In a gloomy workhouse lived a small victorian boy.All he got to eat was a thin paste like custard.The custard tasted like watery goo. After his tea of watery custard he went to sleep in his hard wooden bed. He normally dreamt about a softer bed. The next morning wasn’t like the rest. It was Christmas eve he rushed to put his stocking on his bed. That night the small boy couldn’t sleep he was exited. That morning was the greatest of his life. A couple came to the workhouse and adopted him! No more watery custard for him ever again.