In pursuance of this determination, little Oliver, to his
excessive astonishment, was released from bondage, and ordered to
put himself into a clean shirt. He had hardly achieved this very
unusual gymnastic performance, when Mr. Bumble brought him, with
his own hands, a basin of gruel, and the holiday allowance of two
ounces and a quarter of bread. At this tremendous sight, Oliver
began to cry very piteously: thinking, not unnaturally, that the
board must have determined to kill him for some useful purpose,
or they never would have begun to fatten him up in that way.

'Don't make your eyes red, Oliver, but eat your food and be
thankful,' said Mr. Bumble, in a tone of impressive pomposity.
'You're a going to be made a 'prentice of, Oliver.'

'A prentice, sir!' said the child, trembling.

'Yes, Oliver,' said Mr. Bumble. 'The kind and blessed gentleman
which is so many parents to you, Oliver, when you have none of
your own: are a going to 'prentice' you: and to set you up in
life, and make a man of you: although the expense to the parish
is three pound ten!--three pound ten, Oliver!--seventy
shillins--one hundred and forty sixpences!--and all for a naughty
orphan which nobody can't love.'

As Mr. Bumble paused to take breath, after delivering this
address in an awful voice, the tears rolled down the poor child's
face, and he sobbed bitterly.

'Come,' said Mr. Bumble, somewhat less pompously, for it was
gratifying to his feelings to observe the effect his eloquence