calm the rising wrath of the indignant parish officer.
Mr. Bumble lifted off his cocked hat, took a handkerchief from the inside of the crown, wiped from his forehead the perspiration which his rage had engendered, fixed the cocked hat on again; and, turning to the undertaker, said in a calmer voice,
"Well; what about the boy?"
"Oh!" replied the undertaker; "why, you know, Mr. Bumble, I pay a good deal towards the poor's rates."
"Hem!" said Mr. Bumble. "Well?"
"Well," replied the undertaker, "I was thinking that if I pay so much towards 'em, I 've a right to get as much out of 'em as I can, Mr. Bumble; and so—and so—I think I 'll take the boy myself."
Mr. Bumble grasped the undertaker by the arm, and led him into the building. Mr. Sowerberry was closeted with the board for five minutes, and it was arranged that Oliver should go to him that evening "upon liking,"