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Updated: May 14, 2025
The woman was young, frail, and delicate a stranger to the parish. "How comes he to have any name at all, then?" said Mrs. Bumble, the parish beadle. The beadle drew himself up with great pride, and said, "I invented it. We name our foundings in alphabetical order. The last was a S; Swubble I named him. This was a T; Twist I named him.
Mann raised her hands in astonishment; but added, after a moment's reflection, 'How comes he to have any name at all, then? The beadle drew himself up with great pride, and said, 'I inwented it. 'You, Mr. Bumble! 'I, Mrs. Mann. We name our fondlings in alphabetical order. The last was a S, Swubble, I named him. This was a T, Twist, I named him.
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