Oliver fell on his knees, and clasping his hands together, prayed

that they would order him back to the dark room-- that they would

starve him--beat him--kill him if they pleased--rather than send

him away with that dreadful man.

'Well!' said Mr. Bumble, raising his hands and eyes with most

impressive solemnite. 'Well! of all the artful and designing

orphans that ever I see, Oliver, you are one of the most

'Hold your tongue, Beadle,' said the second old gentleman, when