Hello.
Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph,
Your go-to romantic podcast that guarantees you a calm and entertaining transition into a great night's sleep.
Come with me as we immerse ourselves in a romantic journey to a time long since forgotten.
But before we begin,
Let's take a moment to focus on where we are now.
Take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out with a long sigh.
Now close your eyes and feel yourself sink deeper into the support beneath you.
It is time to relax and fully let go.
There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go.
Happy listening.
Chapter 43 Continued Mr Claypole,
Or Morris Bolter as the reader pleases,
Found himself jostled among a crowd of people,
Chiefly women,
Who were huddled together in a dirty,
Frowzy room at the upper end of which was a raised platform railed off from the rest with a dock for the prisoners.
There were only a couple of women in the dock who were nodding to their admiring friends,
While the clerk read some depositions to a couple of policemen and a man in plain clothes.
A jailer stood reclining against the dock rail,
Tapping his nose listlessly with a large key.
Take that baby out,
He said when the gravity of justice was disturbed by feeble cries from some meagre infant.
The room smelt close and unwholesome.
The walls were dirt coloured and the ceiling blackened.
There was an old smoky bust above the mantel shelf and a dusty clock above the dock.
The only thing present that seemed to go on as it ought,
For depravity or poverty or an habitual acquaintance with both,
Had left a taint on all the animate matter.
Noah looked eagerly about him for the dodger,
But although there were several women who would have done very well for that distinguished character's mother or sister,
Nobody at all answering the description given him of Mr Dawkins was to be seen.
He waited in a state of much suspense and uncertainty until the women,
Being committed for trial,
Had left.
It was indeed Mr Dawkins who,
Shuffling into the office with a big coat sleeves tucked up as usual,
His left hand in his pocket and his right clutching his hat,
Preceded the jailer with a rolling gait altogether indescribable.
Taking his place in the dock,
He requested,
In an audible voice,
To know what he was placed in that e'er disgraceful situation for.
Hold your tongue,
Will you?
Said the jailer.
I'm an Englishman,
Ain't I?
Rejoined the dodger.
Where are my privileges?
You'll get your privileges soon enough,
Retorted the jailer,
And pepper with them.
We'll see what the Secretary of State for the Home Affairs has got to say to the Beaks if I don't,
Replied Mr Dawkins.
Now then,
What's here's this business?
I shan't thank the magistrates to dispose of this here's a little fare,
And not to keep me while they read the paper.
I've got an appointment with a gentleman in the city,
And I'm a man of my word,
And very punctual on business matters.
He'll go away if I ain't there to change me time,
And perhaps there won't be an action for damage against them,
As he'll keep me away.
Certainly not.
At this point,
The dodger asked the jailer to communicate the names of them two files that was on the bench.
This tickled the spectators.
They laughed almost as heartily as Master Bates could have done if he'd have heard the request.
Silence,
Cried the jailer.
What is this?
Inquired one of the magistrates.
A pickpocket,
In case you worship.
Has the boy ever been here before?
He ought to have been many times,
Cried the jailer.
He's been pretty well everywhere else.
I know him well,
Your worship.
Oh,
You know me,
Do you?
Cried the artful making a note of the statement.
Very good.
That's a case of defamation of character anyway.
Here again,
There was another laugh and another cry of silence.
Now,
Where are the witnesses?
Said the clerk.
Oh,
That's right,
Added the dodger.
Where are they?
I'd like to see them.
This wish was immediately gratified for a policeman step forward who'd seen the prisoner attempt the pocket of an unknown gentleman in a crowd and indeed take a handkerchief there from,
Which being a very old one,
He deliberately put back again after trying it on his own countenance.
For this reason,
He took the dodger into custody as soon as he could get near him.
And the said dodger being searched had upon his person a sniff snuff box with the owner's name engraved upon the lid.
This gentleman had been discovered on reference to the court guide and being then in their presence swore the snuff box was his.
He said he'd missed it on the previous day,
The moment he disengaged himself from the crowd.
He'd also remarked a young gentleman in the throng,
Particularly active in making his way about and that young gentleman was the prisoner before him.
Have you anything to ask this witness boy?
Said the magistrate.
I wouldn't abase myself by descending to hold no conversation with him,
Replied the dodger.
Have you anything to say at all?
Do you hear his worship ask if you've anything to say,
Inquired the jailer nudging the silent dodger.
I beg your pardon,
Said the dodger looking up with an air of abstraction.
Did you redress yourself to me,
My man?
I've never seen such an out and out young vagabond your worship,
Observed the officer with a grin.
Do you mean to say anything,
You young shaver?
No,
Replied the dodger,
Not yet,
But this ain't the shot for justice.
Besides which,
My attorney is at breakfast in this morning with the vice president of the house of commons,
But I shall have something to say elsewhere,
And so will he,
And so will a very numerous and spectacle circle of acquaintances and I'll make them beaks wish they'd never been born,
Or that they got their footmen to hang them up on their own at-begs before they let them come out this morning to try it out on upon me.
He's fully committed,
Interposed the clock.
Take him away.
Come on,
Said the jailer.
Oh,
Come on,
Replied the dodger,
Brushing his hat with the palm of his hand.
Ah,
To the bench.
It's no use,
You're looking frightened.
I won't show him no mercy,
Not an apeth of it.
You'll pay for this,
My fine fellas.
I wouldn't beat you for summing.
I wouldn't go free now if you was to fall down on your knees and ask me.
Carry me off to prison.
Go on,
Take me away.
With these last words,
The dodger suffered himself to be led off by the collar,
Threatening till he got into the yard to make a parliamentary business of it,
And then grinning in the officer's face with great glee and self-approval.
Having seen him locked up by himself in a little cell,
Noah made the best of his way back to where he'd left Master Bates.
After waiting there for some time,
He was joined by that young gentleman who had prudently abstained from showing himself until he looked carefully abroad from a snug retreat,
And ascertained his new friend had not been followed by any impertinent person.
The two hastened back together to bear to Mr.
Fagin the animating news that the artful dodger was doing full justice to his bringing up,
And establishing for himself a glorious reputation.
