With this view he gave a kick at the outside, by way of prelude; and, then, applying his mouth to the keyhole, said, in a deep and impressive tone: 'Oliver!' 'Come; you let me out!' replied Oliver, from the inside.
'Do you know this here voice, Oliver ?' said Mr.Bumble.
'Yes,' replied Oliver.
'Ain't you afraid of it, sir?
Ain't you a-trembling while I speak, sir ?' said Mr.Bumble.
'No!' replied Oliver, boldly.
An answer so different from the one he had expected to elicit, and was in the habit of receiving, staggered Mr.Bumble not a little.

He stepped back from the keyhole; drew himself up to his full height; and looked from one to another of the three bystanders, in mute astonishment.
'Oh, you know, Mr.Bumble, he must be mad,' said Mrs.Sowerberry.
'No boy in half his senses could venture to speak so to you.' 'It's not Madness, ma'am,' replied Mr.Bumble, after a few moments of deep meditation.

'It's Meat.' 'What ?' exclaimed Mrs.Sowerberry.
'Meat, ma'am, meat,' replied Bumble, with stern emphasis.

'You've over-fed him, ma'am.

You've raised a artificial soul and spirit in him, ma'am unbecoming a person of his condition: as the board, Mrs.
Sowerberry, who are practical philosophers, will tell you.