grin, as the other boys put a bottle of spirits on the table.
"I—I—don't know, sir," replied Oliver.
"Who's that?" inquired Tom Chitling, casting a contemptuous look at Oliver.
"A young friend of mine, my dear," replied the Jew.
"He's in luck then," said the young man, with a meaning look at Fagin. "Never mind where I came from, young 'un; you'll find your way there soon enough, I'll bet a crown!"
At this sally the boys laughed, and, after some more jokes on the same subject, exchanged a few short whispers with Fagin, and withdrew.
After some words apart between the last comer and Fagin, they drew their chairs towards the fire; and the Jew, telling Oliver to come and sit by him, led the conversation to the topics most calculated to interest his hearers. These were, the great advantages of the trade, the proficiency of the Dodger, the amiability of
