When dusk came, the children took their seats, and the master priest, dressed as a cook, stood by the pot, and the two poor women who had beaten him stood behind him. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 The info porridge was distributed one by one, and after the long prayer, it took not much time to eat. The bowl of porridge was swept away, and the children looked at Oliver with a glance when the next table nudged him lightly with his elbow. Although Oliver was still a child, he was forced by hunger and suffering to take a risk. He stood up from the table, spoon and porridge basin in his hand, and walked towards the master, and when he spoke, he was somewhat startled by his boldness:

"I'm sorry, sir, I want a little more. “

The master was a fat man with a strong body, and his face turned white, and for a while he stared at the rebellious little fellow in astonishment, and then he was a little steady, and he stuck to the stove. The women who helped the cook were stunned, and the children were frightened, and none of them could move.

"What!" the master opened his mouth easily, and his voice was weak.

"I'm sorry, sir, I still want it. Oliver replied.

The master picked up the spoon, pointed it on Oliver's head, stretched out his arms and clamped him tightly, and shouted at a shrill voice, "Call the officer."

While the councillors were discussing important matters, Mr. Bombur rushed into the room, and said to the gentleman in the high chair:

"Mr. Limkins, I beg your pardon, sir. Oliver Twist also. “

The audience was shocked, and the fear was painted on the faces.

"And!" said Mr. Limkins, "calm down, Bombur, answer clearly. I heard you right, you mean he's going to have to eat the standard rationed dinner?"

"Yes, sir. Bombur replied.

"That child will be hanged," said the gentleman in the white vest, "and I am sure that the child will be hanged." “

No one refuted the gentleman's foresight. The Council had a lively discussion. Oliver was immediately locked up. The next morning a notice was posted outside the gate, saying that anyone who wished to take over the diocese and take in Oliver Twist would be paid a five-pound honorary, in other words, that any person, male or female, who wished to recruit an apprentice to engage in any kind of trade, trade, or trade, could come and receive five pounds in cash and Oliver Twist.

"Nothing is the contemptible man is sure of," said the gentleman in the white vest the next morning, knocking at the door, reading the notice, "and there is nothing more than the contemptible man is sure of, and I am sure that the little devil will be hanged." “

Whether the gentleman in the white vest is right or not, the author intends to disclose it later. If I were to break it now, Oliver Twist would not have ended up in such a terrible end, and maybe it would have ruined the interest of the story (assuming it was somewhat interesting).

Oliver had committed a blasphemous and perverse sin by openly demanding more porridge, and for the next week he became an important prisoner, confined in solitary confines in a dark room, an arrangement made of the Council's foresight and mercy. At first glance, it is reasonable to suppose that if he had a moderate respect for the foresight of the gentleman in the white vest, he had simply tied one end of his handkerchief to an iron hook in the wall, and hung himself on the other, so that the brigadier would have once and for all made the sage known as an unknown prophet. However, there was an obstacle to the performance of the trick, which was that handkerchiefs had always been considered a luxury, and by the express decree of the Council, they disappeared from under the noses of the poor for generations. This order was unanimously adopted, signed and sealed, and solemnly issued. Another bigger obstacle is Oliver's young ignorance. During the day, he only knew how to cry sadly, and when the long night came, he would always stretch out his little hand and cover his eyes, trying to keep the darkness out, and he would curl up in the corner, trying to fall asleep. He shuddered from time to time, and pressed his body closer and closer to the wall, as if he felt that when darkness and loneliness came on all sides, the cold, hard wall also became a barrier.

Those who hate "the system" should not think that Oliver did not enjoy the benefits of sports, social pleasures, or even religious comfort during his time in solitary confinement. As far as sports were concerned, it was a cold day, and he was allowed to bathe every morning under the slate in the slate yard, and Mr. Bombur was present to watch over him, and in order to prevent Oliver from catching a cold, he always took a rattan and whipped him with a rattan very diligently, giving him a feeling of heat all over. When it comes to socializing, he was once a day in the hall where the children were eating and whipped in public as an example. Every evening, when the time for prayer came, he was kicked into the dark room, where he was allowed to listen to the children's collective prayers as a way to comfort his soul, showing that he was far from being deprived of the benefits of religious consolation. The Council added a prayer calling on the children to ask God to bless them to be noble, good, contented, and obedient people, and not to commit the sins and misdeeds of Oliver Twist, which clearly declared that he was under the special protection of the evil forces, and that it was a product made in a factory run by the devil himself.

Oliver is in such a situation of auspicious stars shining and being cared for. One morning Mr. Gamfil, the chimney sweeper, came out into the street, and he had been thinking about how to pay the rent owed, and the landlord had become quite impatient. No matter how well Mr. Ganfil's calculations were made, he could not make up the full five pounds he needed. Desperate at this arithmetic problem, he knocked on his head with a short stick in his hand, and whipped his donkey, and as he passed the workhouse, his eyes grasping the sign on the door.

"W-hmm. Mr. Griffel spoke to the donkey.

The donkey was now completely absent-minded, and he was probably wondering if he could get a cabbage or two as a reward after unloading the two bags of soot from the cart, so he did not hear the command, and continued to walk on slowly.

Mr. Griffel roared, and hurled a foul snarl at its head, focusing on its eyes. He rushed forward and looked at the donkey's head, but fortunately it was a donkey, and the other beasts must have already blossomed. Then, Mr. Gamfil grabbed the pet head and twisted it hard, politely reminding it not to make a claim on its own, and then made it turn around. Mr. Gamfil then came at the donkey's head again, and told him to stay honest and wait for him to come back. When Mr. Griffel had done all this, he went to the gate and read the poster.