"Mr. Sowerberry was much tickled at this, as of course he ought to be, and laughed a long time without cessation. 'Well, well, Mr. Bumble,' he said at length, 'there's no denying that, since the new system of feeding has come in, the coffins are something narrower and more shallow than they used to be; but we must have some profit, Mr. Bumble. Well-seasoned timber is an expensive article, sir; and all the iron handles come by canal from Birmingham.' "'Well, well,' said Mr. Bumble, 'every trade has its drawbacks, and a fair profit is of course allowable.' "'Of course, of course,' replied the undertaker; 'and if I don't get a profit upon this or that particular article, why I make it up in the long run, you see—he! he! he!' "'Just so,' said Mr. Bumble. "'Though I must say,'—continued the undertaker, resuming the current of observations which the beadle had interrupted,—'though I must say, Mr. Bumble, that I have to contend against one very great disadvantage, which is, that all the stout people go off the quickest—I mean that the people who have been better off, and have paid rates for many years, are the first to sink when they come into the house; and let me tell you, Mr. Bumble, that three or four inches over one's calculation makes a great hole in one's profits, especially when one has a family to provide for, sir.' "As Mr. Sowerberry said this, with the becoming indignation of an ill-used man, and as Mr. Bumble felt that it rather tended to convey a reflection on the honour of the parish, the latter gentleman thought it advisable to change the subject; and Oliver Twist being uppermost in his mind, he made him his theme. "'By-the-by,' said Mr. Bumble, 'you don't know anybody who wants a boy, do you—a parochial 'prentis, who is at present a dead-weight—a millstone, as I may say—round the parochial throat? Liberal terms, Mr. Sowerberry—liberal terms;' and, as Mr. Bumble spoke, he raised his cane to the bill above him and gave three distinct raps upon the words 'five pounds,' which were printed therein in Roman capitals of gigantic size. "'Gadso!' said the undertaker, taking Mr. Bumble by the gilt-edged lappel of his official coat; 'that's just the very thing I wanted to speak to you about. You know—dear me, what a very elegant button this is, Mr. Bumble; I never noticed it before.'