Олівер Твіст

Chapter 4

           ‘Let’emaloneforthat,’repliedtheundertaker.Sosaying,hesmiled,approvingly:tocalmtherisingwrathoftheindignantparishofficer.

           MrBumbleliftedoffhiscockedhat;tookahandkerchieffromtheinsideofthecrown;wipedfromhisforeheadtheperspirationwhichhisragehadengendered;fixedthecockedhatonagain;and,turningtotheundertaker,saidinacalmervoice:

           ‘Well;whatabouttheboy?’

           ‘Oh!’repliedtheundertaker;why,youknow,Mr.Bumble,Ipayagooddealtowardsthepoor’srates.

           ‘Hem!’saidMr.Bumble.‘Well?’

           ‘Well,’repliedtheundertaker,‘IwasthinkingthatifIpaysomuchtowards’em,I’vearighttogetasmuchoutof’emasIcan,Mr.Bumble;andsoIthinkI’lltaketheboymyself.

           Mr.Bumblegraspedtheundertakerbythearm,andledhimintothebuilding.Mr.Sowerberrywasclosetedwiththeboardforfiveminutes;anditwasarrangedthatOlivershouldgotohimthatevening‘uponliking’aphrasewhichmeans,inthecaseofaparishapprentice,thatifthemasterfind,uponashorttrial,thathecangetenoughworkoutofaboywithoutputtingtoomuchfoodintohim,heshallhavehimforatermofyears,todowhathelikeswith.

           WhenlittleOliverwastakenbefore‘thegentlemen’thatevening;andinformedthathewastogo,thatnight,asgeneralhouse-ladtoacoffin-maker’s;

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