Oliver Twist Chapter 2 (narrated by Tommy) Oliver Goes Out to Work The arrangements were soon made, and Mr Bumble took Oliver to Mr Sowerberry's shop that evening. Oliver did not want to go. 'I will be good, sir!' he said. 'I am a very little boy and it is so - so - lonely! Please don't be angry with me, sir!' To Mr Bumble's surprise, Oliver had tears in his eyes. He told the boy not to complain, to dry his eyes and to be good. He took Oliver's hand, and they continued walking in silence. Mr Sowerberry had closed the shop, and he was writing by the light of a candle when they arrived. 'Here, Mr Sowerberry, I have brought the boy,' said Mr Bumble. Oliver bowed. 'Oh, that is the boy, is it?' said Mr Sowerberry. 'Mrs Sowerberry, come here, my dear.' A short thin woman with a narrow face came out from a little room behind the shop. 'My dear,' said Mr Sowerberry, 'this is the boy from the workhouse that I told you about.' Oliver bowed again. 'Oh!' said the woman. 'He is very small.' 'Yes, he is rather small!' said Mr Bumble. 'But he will grow, Mrs Sowerberry, he will grow.' 'Yes, I expect he will', said the lady angrily, 'on our food and our drink. Here, get downstairs, you little bag of bones. You can have some of the cold meat that we saved for the dog. The dog hasn't come home since this morning.' Mrs Sowerberry opened a door and pushed Oliver down some stairs into a dark room. Oliver's eyes shone at the thought of meat. They gave him a plate of the dog's food, and he ate very quickly. Mrs Sowerberry was not pleased that he was so enthusiastic. 'Come with me,' she said, taking a dirty lamp and leading him upstairs again. 'Your bed is in the shop. You don't mind sleeping among the coffins? But it doesn't matter whether you mind or not. You can't sleep anywhere else.' Oliver was left alone in the shop full of coffins. He put the lamp down and looked around him. The shapes of the black boxes looked like the ghosts of dead people. The room smelt of death. He was alone in a strange place. He climbed quickly into his narrow bed and fell asleep. The next morning he heard a loud knocking noise outside the shop door. 'Open the door!' cried a voice. 'I am coming, sir,' replied Oliver, turning the key. A large boy was sitting in front of the house, eating bread and butter. He had small eyes and a red nose. 'Did you knock?' asked Oliver. 'I did.' 'Do you want a coffin?' asked Oliver innocently. 'You don't know who I am, Workhouse?' said the boy. 'I am Mr Noah Claypole, and you will work under me. Open the windows, you lazy boy!' He kicked Oliver, and entered the shop. Noah was a poor boy, but not from the workhouse. He knew who his parents were. His mother washed clothes, and his father was a soldier who was always drunk. Other boys were rude to him, so he was glad that Oliver had come. Now he could be rude to Oliver.