Mr Bumble coughed． ‘What is it？’ he asked， looking at the bottle with interest．
‘Gin．I keep it for the children’s medicine drink.’
‘You give the children gin，Mrs Mann？’asked Mr Bumble，watching as she mixed his drink．
‘Only with medicine， sir． I don’t like to see the m suffer．’
‘You’re a good woman， Mrs Mann．’ Mr Bumble drank half his glass immediately． ‘I’ll tell the board about you．Now - the reason why I’m here． O liver Twist is nine years old today． We’ve never been able to discover anything about his parents.’
‘The n how did he get his name？’
‘I gave it to him，’said Mr Bumble proudly． ‘We follow the alphabet．The last one was an S-Swubble． The n it was T， so this one is Twist． The next one will be Unwin．Anyway，Oliver Twist is now old enough to return to the workhouse． Bring him here， please．’ While Mrs Mann went to get him， Mr Bumble finished the rest of his gin．
Oliver， his face and hands now almost clean， was led into the room.
‘Will you come along with me，Oliver？’asked Mr Bumble in a loud voice．
Oliver was very glad to be free of Mrs Mann’s violence， but he said nothing because she was angrily shaking her finger at him．However，as the gate closed behind O liver，he burst into tears. He was leaving behind the other children， the only friends he had，and he realized at that moment how lonely he was in the world.
Mr Bumble walked on with long steps，with O liver on his short little legs running beside him．The feeling of contentment produced by gin－and－water had now disappeared，and the beadle was in a bad mood once more．
Back at the workhouse， O liver was taken to see the board. He stood in front of ten fat men who were sitting around a table．
‘What’s your name， boy？’ asked a particularly fat man with a very round， red face．
O liver was frightened at the sight of so many people， and started to cry.