He had turned the cuffs back, half-way up his arm, to get his hands out of the sleeves: apparently with the ultimate view of thrusting them into the pockets of his corduroy trousers; for there he kept them.

He was, altogether, as roystering and swaggering a young gentleman as ever stood four feet six, or something less, in the bluchers.
'Hullo, my covey! What's the row ?' said this strange young gentleman to Oliver.
'I am very hungry and tired,' replied Oliver: the tears standing in his eyes as he spoke.

'I have walked a long way.

I have been walking these seven days.' 'Walking for sivin days!' said the young gentleman.

'Oh, I see.