The Birmingham age-herald., 1908-11-22


 as if they could have devoured the very
 metal of which it was made employing
 themselves meanwhile in sucking their fingers assiduously to catch any faint traces of gruel.
 Oliver Twist and his companions suf- fered the tortures of slow starvation for three months. Then they got so wild and 1 voraeious that one day Oliver arose from the table after cleaning his bowl and, advancing to the master with the bowl in
 his hand, said: Please, sir, I want some more"
 The master gasped, aimed blow at the young criminals head with his ladle and | shrleRed aloud for the beadle.
 The beadle heard the dreadful news and rushed Into the boardroom, where the board was sitting.
 '.I beg pour pardon, gentlemen" said the excited beadle. ''but Oliver Twist has asked for more!'
 Horror was depicted on every counte- nance.
 That boy will be hungP exclaimed the l chairman.
 Oliver was ordered into instant confne- ment; and next day a reward of e5 was l offered to any one who would take him as an apprentice
 MT. Sowerberry, who had the honor of conducting the official funerals of the psupers whom the board had successfully convinced that pauperism did not pay, un- dertook to receive the 95 with the encum- brance of Oliver.
 He gave him dignified but somewhat somber lodgings under the counter in the shop among the coffins, while Mrs. Sower- berry saw to his physical well-being by giving him daily share of the food rem nants that used to so to the cat His men tai and moral discipline was looked after by his fellow apprentice, Noah Claypole, a charity boy, whose official uniform of yellow smalls was made additionally gor- geous by his extremely bright red nose. MT. Claypole, as a son of known though dissolute parents, looked down from an immense social height on the workhouse brat. Aided and abetted by the slatternly maid, Charlotte he heaped on the drudge all the indignities he could invent Oliver bore them without complaint un- till the small wits of MT. Claypole became so empty of subjects that he fell back on l the matter of Divers mother, portraytng her character in terms that suddenly brought an amazing catastrophe upon him. Oliver, so furious that his pale face actually flushed, seized the charity boy by the throat shook him with all his might, and at last struck him to the ground with one nervously powerful blow.
 Noah wisely remained where he had fallen, bawling murder. Chalotte re- sponded to the appeal and snatched Oliver by the hair. Mrs. Sowerberry joined the fray and scratched his face while Char l lotte beat him with her disengaged fist. "Run for the beadlel'' cried the women, and Noah obeyed with alacrity, holding a steel knife to his eye to keep down the swelling.
 The beadle came panting and applied his parochial cane with great courage and energy, congratulating the household on not having been murdered in their beds by the desperate young ruffian MT. Sowerberry obliged his wife by adding another and very thorough thrashing to
  | panting and aching, was thrown into his sleeping place and left in darkness. As soon as the house was quiet he | arose, steathily unlocked the door and fled He went at random and happened to take the direction of London. All that first day he walked, with nothing but a crust of bread to sustain him. The next day he bought loaf with a penny that he had received one day-the only one he had ever had. So he went on begging when he dared, hiding in hedges and hay ricks, his feet faltering more and more each day-with fatigue and his body be- coming weaker with insufficient food. He was sitting listlessly by the road side one morning not far out of London | when a queer person accosted him with; "Hullo, my covey, what's the row?" The queer person was as dirty juvs- nile with as commonplace face as could be found, but his manner was so royster- l ing and swaggering that 1t seemed to be in perfect keeping with the adults clothes that he wore. He had turned the long sleeves of the coat back half way to get his hands out, which he kept in the i'm | menSe pockets or the corouroy trousors l that swathed him.
 1 His manner was altogether 90 knowing and so commanding that Oliver told him as much of his story as he thought wise. In return, his newly found acquaintance explained patronlzingly that he was MT. l Jack Dawkins, much better and honorably known however, as The Artful Dodger. 1 He further explained that he was the particular friend and protoge of nne l old gentleman in London, who was so philanthropicaly inclined that he would i be glad to give Oliver shelter on his rec 1 ommendation.
 Oliver innocent of the world as a young kitten, accepted his knowing patrons offer and accompanied him to London. His ] conductor led him through dirty and wretched streets to a house near Field i lane, and there ushered him into a room black with dirt and age.
 i Standing over the fireplace, where l sausages were cooking in rusty frypan was very old, shriveled man, whose face was obscured with quantity of matted flannel gown, and seemed to divide his at- 1 tention between the frying pan and a elotheshorse on which hung a great many silk handkerchiefs.
 He grinned when MT. Dawkins intro duced Oliver, shook him by the hand and