ere was so much determination and depth of purpose about the menacing
manner in which Mr. Bumble delivered himself of these words, that Mrs.
Mann appeared quite awed by them. At length she said,

'You're going by coach, sir? I thought it was always usual to send
them paupers in carts.'

'That's when they're ill, Mrs. Mann,' said the beadle. 'We put the
sick paupers into open carts in the rainy weather, to prevent their
taking cold.'

'Oh!' said Mrs. Mann.

'The opposition coach contracts for these two; and takes them cheap,'
said Mr. Bumble. 'They are both in a very low state, and we find it
would come two pound cheaper to move 'em than to bury 'em--that is, if
we can throw 'em upon another parish, which I think we shall be able to
do, if they don't die upon the road to spite us. Ha! ha! ha!'

When Mr. Bumble had laughed a little while, his eyes again encountered
the cocked hat; and he became grave.

'We are forgetting business, ma'am,' said the beadle; 'here is your
porochial stipend for the month.'

Mr. Bumble produced some silver money rolled up in paper, from his
pocket-book; and requested a receipt: which Mrs. Mann wrote.

'It's very much blotted, sir,' said the farmer of infants; 'but it's
formal enough, I dare say. Thank you, Mr. Bumble, sir, I am very much
obliged to you, I'm sure.'

Mr. Bumble nodded, blandly, in acknowledgment of Mrs. Mann's curtsey;
and inquired how the children were.

'Bless their dear little hearts!' said Mrs. Mann with emotion, 'they're
as well as can be, the dears! Of course, except the two that died last
week. And little Dick.'

'Isn't that boy no better?' inquired Mr. Bumble.

Mrs. Mann shook her head.

'He's a ill-conditioned, wicious, bad-disposed porochial child that,'
said Mr. Bumble angrily. 'Where is he?'

'I'll bring him to you in one minute, sir,' replied Mrs. Mann. 'Here,
you Dick!'

After some calling, Dick was discovered. Having had his face put under
the pump, and dried upon Mrs. Mann's gown, he was led into the awful
presence of Mr. Bumble, the beadle.

The child was pale and thin; his cheeks were sunken; and his eyes large
and bright. The scanty parish dress, the livery of his misery, hung
loosely on his feeble body; and his young limbs had wasted away, like
those of an old man.

Such was the little being who stood trembling beneath Mr. Bumble's
glance; not daring to lift his eyes from the floor; and dreading even
to hear the beadle's voic