Chapter 4.
A Bit of Meat.
It was already evening when Oliver and his new master arrived at the Undertaker's home.
Mr. Sourberry entered the front hall and lit a small candle.
Oliver stepped in slowly.
He stood quietly by the door, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the gloomy hall.
Mrs. Sourberry, Mr. Sourberry called.
Would you come here for a moment?
Mrs. Sourberry appeared from a back room.
She was a small, thin woman who looked like she never smiled.
She placed her hands on her hips and said, Well, she did not sound very happy.
My dear, said Mr. Sourberry.
I brought home a workhouse boy.
We can put him to work in the shop.
He looks pretty small, she frowned.
Well, yes, Mr. Sourberry said.
He is rather small.
I'm sure that he will grow, though.
Of course, she snapped, and on our food and money.
These workhouse boys always cost more than they're worth.
Mrs. Sourberry took Oliver by the shoulders.
She turned him around, checking his hair and teeth.
Oliver did as she asked.
He showed her his hands and tried to answer her questions, but every time he started to say something, his eyes welled up with tears.
No words would come out.
Mrs. Sourberry sighed.
Her husband had too many plans, she thought.
They would never get ahead at this rate, not if he continued to bring home strays.
Come down to the cellar.
Charlotte will give you some meat.
Oliver's eyes grew wide at that word.
Meat?
Could it really be true?
Was he about to enjoy meat for dinner?
The boy's mouth started to water.
Mrs. Sourberry pulled him by the arm.
She dragged him down the cellar stairs and pushed him toward the fire.
He startled a young woman standing by the fire.
Charlotte almost dropped her spoon into the cooking pot.
She looked surprised and confused by this pale, thin boy.
"'Charlotte,' Mrs. Sourberry said, "'my husband has brought home another boy.
This one's from the workhouse.'
Mrs. Sourberry started cleaning up Charlotte's work area.
It was obvious that Mrs. Sourberry liked things done her own way.
"'Give him whatever scraps you have.
There must be something you were saving for the dog.'
Oliver ate his supper quickly.
He pulled the meat from the bone, chewed off the extra bits of fat and sucked out the last of the flavor.
Charlotte and Mrs. Sourberry watched with horror.
They had never seen anything like it.
Oliver knew he should be more careful about his manners, but he could not stop.
Although his dinner was small, by most standards it was the largest he had ever enjoyed.
When he was done, Mrs. Sourberry said, grab your things, boy.
We'll make up your bed in the front room.
You don't mind sleeping among the coffins, do you?
She did not wait for an answer.
Once again, she dragged him by the arm.
Don't suppose it matters much if you do mind, though.
There's no place else for you to go.
Oliver found himself in a room full of coffins.
Some were set up on platforms for display.
The lids were open, revealing plain or satin interiors.
Many more were leaning up against the walls.
Mrs. Sowerberry handed him a small candle.
She told him not to waste it as he was not likely to get another.
Thank you. he said meekly.
I'll be careful.
My word, she exclaimed.
It does speak.
For a second, Oliver thought she might smile.
He was wrong.
Now get to sleep, boy.
We wake up early here and there'll be no dawdling.
Mrs. Sourberry left Oliver all alone.
She shut the door tightly and walked away.
Oliver was scared, but only because things were new.
He had no idea what to expect.
He was so used to the routine of the workhouse that he could not imagine another way of living.
Oliver was to learn a new trade in the morning.
He would soon be an undertaker's assistant.
He promised himself that he would work hard and not disappoint anyone.
Oliver blew out the candle.
He lay on his mat, thinking about his mother.
He wondered what his life might have been like had she lived.
Oliver thought about his mother almost every night.
Whenever the room full of workhouse boys settled down and everything was dark and quiet, he wondered what she looked like.
Did she have the same hair color?
Did she have a soft voice?
He knew nothing about her, but he missed her terribly.
Somehow he knew that she would have been tender and kind.
He knew that she would have loved him dearly.
She would have kissed him on the forehead every night and helped him say his prayers.
Oliver fell asleep in his new home with a very heavy heart.
