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"Oh please sah," said Oliver, "I would so like some moh." The master said nothing. Oliver continued. "For while I have very little in my life that can make me happy there is always food. Warm, filling, delicious, mouthwatering food. Sweet, savoury, sour, salty food." Just talking about food in this way raised young Oliver's spirits, to the point of where he almost felt like singing. "Soft food, crunchy food, wet food, dry food..." Oliver could hold back no more...
Jellied eels and custard,
Sah, we'd be so good,If you topped it with mustard...
As Oliver continued naming foods that he had only ever heard spoken of in the streets, he leapt up onto a nearby table and started leaping and pirrouetting amongst the half-empty gruel bowls. Meanwhile, all the other boys had begun clapping their hands and playing their spoons, and somehow created marvellous music, worthy of the West End theatres. Swept up in the music, Oliver built up for his big finish.
Any old food!
Edible food!Glorious food!!!!!
The gruel hall was filled with raucous cheering and rapturous applause from all angles. Someone even gave Oliver a bunch of flowers. As it all died down. Oliver heard one young orphan call out from the back.