| Display title | Oliver Twist/Source/Chapter 37 |
| Default sort key | Oliver Twist/Source/Chapter 37 |
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| Page ID | 413476 |
| Page content language | en - English |
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| Page creator | GethN7 (talk | contribs) |
| Date of page creation | 22:22, 26 November 2014 |
| Latest editor | Void (talk | contribs) |
| Date of latest edit | 00:03, 27 October 2018 |
| Total number of edits | 3 |
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Description | Content |
Article description: (description)
This attribute controls the content of the description and og:description elements. | Mr. Bumble sat in the workhouse parlour, with his eyes moodily
fixed on the cheerless grate, whence, as it was summer time, no
brighter gleam proceeded, than the reflection of certain sickly
rays of the sun, which were sent back from its cold and shining
surface. A paper fly-cage dangled from the ceiling, to which he
occasionally raised his eyes in gloomy thought; and, as the
heedless insects hovered round the gaudy net-work, Mr. Bumble
would heave a deep sigh, while a more gloomy shadow overspread
his countenance. Mr. Bumble was meditating; it might be that the
insects brought to mind, some painful passage in his own past
life. |