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Twist were offered to any man or woman who wanted an apprentice to any
trade, business, or calling.

Mr. Sowerberry, the parish undertaker, finally applied for the prize, and
carried Oliver away with him, which, for the poor boy, was a matter of
falling from the frying pan into the fire, and in his short career as
undertaker's assistant he even sighed for the workhouse,--miserable as his
life there had been. At the undertaker's, Oliver's bed was in the shop.
The atmosphere seemed tainted with the smell of coffins. The recess behind
the counter in which his mattress was thrust, looked like a grave. His
food was broken bits left from the meals of others, and his constant


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