The evening arrived; the boys took their places. The master, in his cook's uniform,
stationed himself at the copper; his pauper assistants ranged themselves behind him; the
gruel was served out; and a long grace was said over the short commons. The gruel¹
disappeared; the boys whispered to each other, and winked at Oliver; while his next
neighbours nudged him. Child as he was, he was desperate with hunger, and reckless with
misery. He rose from the table; and advancing to the master, basin and spoon in hand,
said: somewhat alarmed at his own temerity²:
"Please, sir, I want some more.
