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Gamfield, the chimney sweep, was the first to respond to this offer. "It's a nasty trade," said the chairman of the board. "Young boys have been smothered in chimneys before now," said another member. "That's because they damped the straw afore they lit it in the chimbley to make 'em come down again," said Gamfield.

Gamfield's most sanguine estimate of his finances could not raise them within full five pounds of the desired amount; and, in a species of arithmetical desperation, he was alternately cudgelling his brains and his donkey, when passing the workhouse, his eyes encountered the bill on the gate. 'Wo o! said Mr. Gamfield to the donkey.

Gamfield and the donkey, he smiled joyously when that person came up to read the bill, for he saw at once that Mr. Gamfield was exactly the sort of master Oliver Twist wanted. Mr. Gamfield smiled, too, as he perused the document; for five pounds was just the sum he had been wishing for; and, as to the boy with which it was encumbered, Mr.

It chanced one morning, while Oliver's affairs were in this auspicious and comfortable state, that Mr. Gamfield, chimney-sweep, went his way down the High Street, deeply cogitating in his mind his ways and means of paying certain arrears of rent, for which his landlord had become rather pressing. Mr.

Gamfield replied, that he wished he might come to him; which, although he agreed with the beadle in most matters, would seem to be a wish of a totally opposite description. The next morning, the public were once informed that Oliver Twist was again To Let, and that five pounds would be paid to anybody who would take possession of him.

Gamfield growled a fierce imprecation on the donkey generally, but more particularly on his eyes; and, running after him, bestowed a blow on his head, which would inevitably have beaten in any skull but a donkey's. Then, catching hold of the bridle, he gave his jaw a sharp wrench, by way of gentle reminder that he was not his own master; and by these means turned him round.

'You're desperate hard upon me, gen'l'men, said Gamfield, wavering. 'Pooh! pooh! nonsense! said the gentleman in the white waistcoat. 'He'd be cheap with nothing at all, as a premium. Take him, you silly fellow! He's just the boy for you. He wants the stick, now and then: it'll do him good; and his board needn't come very expensive, for he hasn't been overfed since he was born. Ha! ha! ha! Mr.

'Ten shillings too much, said the gentleman in the white waistcoat. 'Come! said Gamfield; 'say four pound, gen'l'men. Say four pound, and you've got rid of him for good and all. There! 'Three pound ten, repeated Mr. Limbkins, firmly. 'Come! I'll split the diff'erence, gen'l'men, urged Gamfield. 'Three pound fifteen. 'Not a farthing more, was the firm reply of Mr. Limbkins.

Gamfield having lingered behind, to give the donkey another blow on the head, and another wrench of the jaw, as a caution not to run away in his absence, followed the gentleman with the white waistcoat into the room where Oliver had first seen him. 'It's a nasty trade, said Mr. Limbkins, when Gamfield had again stated his wish.

'I hope I am, sir, said Mr. Gamfield, with an ugly leer. 'I have no doubt you are, my friend, replied the old gentleman: fixing his spectacles more firmly on his nose, and looking about him for the inkstand. It was the critical moment of Oliver's fate.