CHAPTER IV. OLIVER, BEING OFFERED ANOTHER PLACE, MAKES HIS FIRST ENTRY INTO PUBLIC LIFE

“Oh!that’stheboy,isit?”saidtheundertaker:raisingthecandleabovehishead,togetabetterviewofOliver.“Mrs.Sowerberry,willyouhavethegoodnesstocomehereamoment,mydear?” Mrs.Sowerberryemergedfromalittleroombehindtheshop,andpresentedtheformofashort,thin,squeezed-upwoman,withavixenishcountenance. “Mydear,”saidMr.Sowerberry,deferentially,“thisistheboyfromtheworkhousethatItoldyouof.”Oliverbowedagain. “Dearme!”saidtheundertaker’swife,“he’sverysmall.” “Why,heisrathersmall,”repliedMr.Bumble:lookingatOliverasifitwerehisfaultthathewasnobigger“heissmall.There’snodenyingit.Buthe’llgrow,Mrs.Sowerberry—he’llgrow.” “Ah!Idaresayhewill,”repliedtheladypettishly,“onourvictualsandourdrink.Iseenosavinginparishchildren,notIfortheyalwayscostmoretokeep,thanthey’reworth.However,menalwaysthinktheyknowbest.There!Getdownstairs,littlebago’bones.”Withthis,theundertaker’swifeopenedasidedoor,andpushedOliverdownasteepflightofstairsintoastonecell,dampanddark:formingtheante-roomtothecoal-cellar,anddenominated“kitchen”whereinsataslatternlygirl,inshoesdownatheel,andblueworstedstockingsverymuchoutofrepair. “Here,Charlotte,”saidMr.Sowerberry,whohadfollowedOliverdown,“givethisboysomeofthecoldbitsthatwereputbyforTrip.Hehasn’tcomehomesincethemorning,sohemaygowithout’em.Idaresaytheboyisn’ttoodaintytoeat’em—areyou,boy?” Oliver,whoseeyeshadglistenedatthementionofmeat,andwhowastremblingwitheagernesstodevourit,repliedinthenegativeandaplatefulofcoarsebrokenvictualswassetbeforehim. Iwishsomewell-fedphilosopher,whosemeatanddrinkturntogallwithinhimwhosebloodisice,whoseheartisironcouldhaveseenOliverTwistclutchingatthedaintyviandsthatthedoghadneglected.IwishhecouldhavewitnessedthehorribleaviditywithwhichOlivertorethebitsasunderwithalltheferocityoffamine.ThereisonlyonethingIshouldlikebetterandthatwouldbetoseethePhilosophermakingthesamesortofmealhimself,withthesamerelish. “Well,”saidtheundertaker’swife,whenOliverhadfinishedhissupper:whichshehadregardedinsilenthorror,andwithfearfulauguriesofhisfutureappetite:“haveyoudone?” Therebeingnothingeatablewithinhisreach,Oliverrepliedintheaffirmative. “Thencomewithme,”saidMrs.Sowerberry:takingupadimanddirtylamp,andleadingthewayupstairs“yourbed’sunderthecounter.Youdon’tmindsleepingamongthecoffins,Isuppose?Butitdoesn’tmuchmatterwhetheryoudoordon’t,foryoucan’tsleepanywhereelse.Comedon’tkeepmehereallnight!” Oliverlingerednolonger,butmeeklyfollowedhisnewmistress.