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IV . The Road to London At eight o’clock that morning Oliver was five miles from the town . He hid behind hedges until midday , because he was afraid that someone would follow him . Then he sat down by a milestone and began to think for the first time where he should go . The stone told him that it was just seventy miles to London . London ! It was a great , big place , and Oliver had heard old men in the workhouse say that a clever boy never needed to go hungry there . Nobody , not even Mr Bumble , would ever find him in such a city . He had a crust of bread , a coarse shirt , two pairs of socks and a penny in his bundle , and he started walking . He walked twenty miles that day , and he slept in a field under a haystack . The next day he spent his penny on a small loaf . For seven days he walked on , cold , tired and very hungry . In some villages there were notices which warned that anybody found begging would be sent to prison . A few kind people gave him food , and an old lady whose grandson had been shipwrecked far away gave him what little she could . Without her , he might have died on the road . Early on the seventh morning Oliver limped slowly into the little town of Barnet . His feet were bleeding and covered with dust . He sat down on a doorstep , and after a while he noticed a boy who was watching him from across the road . The boy came over . “ Hullo , my friend ! What’s the matter ? ” he said . He was about Oliver’s age , with a short nose and a common , dirty face , but he had all the airs and manners of a man . His hat sat so lightly on the top of his head that it seemed ready to fall off at every moment , and he wore a man’s coat which reached nearly to his heels . “ I am very hungry and tired , ” replied Oliver , and tears stood in his eyes . “ I have walked a long way . I have been walking these seven days . ” “ Walking for seven days ! ” said the young gentleman . “ Never mind . You want food , and you shall have it . ” He helped Oliver up and took him to a small shop , where he bought some ham and a loaf of bread . Then he led him into a little public house and ordered a pot of beer . Oliver ate a long and hearty meal , while his new friend watched him with interest . When he heard that Oliver was going to London without money or a place to stay , the strange boy whistled . “ I’ve got to be in London tonight , ” he said , “ and I know a respectable old gentleman who lives there . He’ll give you a place to stay for nothing , and never ask for anything in return . That is , if any gentleman he knows introduces you . And doesn’t he know me ? Oh , no ! Not in the least ! By no means . Certainly not ! ” The boy smiled , as if this was a joke . He told Oliver that his name was Jack Dawkins , and that his friends called him the Artful Dodger . Oliver thought that the name was rather strange , but he was too grateful to ask questions .
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