Nicholas Nickleby

rom sorrow and misfortune, Nicholas Nickleby wouldhave commenced his expedition under most happy auspices.　　There was so much to be done, and so little time to do it in; somany

say number one,’ pursued Mr Squeers, putting the mugbefore the children, ‘the boy on the left hand nearest the windowmay take a drink; and when I say number two, the boy next himwill go in, and so till we come to number five, which is the last boy.　　Are you ready?’　　‘Yes, sir,’ cried all the little boys with great eagerness.　　‘That’s right,’ said Squeers, calmly getting on with hisbreakfast; ‘keep ready till I tell you to begin. Subdue yourappetites, my dears, and you’ve conquered human nature. This isthe way we inculcate strength of mind, Mr Nickleby,’ said theschoolmaster, turning to Nicholas, and speaking with his mouthvery full of beef and toast.　　Nicholas murmured something—he knew not what—in reply;and the little boys, dividing their gaze between the mug, the breadand butter (which had by this time arrived), and every morselwhich Mr Squeers took into his mouth, remained with strainedeyes in torments of expectation.　　‘Thank God for a good breakfast,’ said Squeers, when he hadfinished. ‘Number one may take a drink.’　　Number one seized the mug ravenously, and had just drunkenough to make him wish for more, when Mr Squeers gave thesignal for number two, who gave up at the same interestingmoment to number three; and the process was repeated until themilk and water terminated with number five.　　 ‘And now,’ said the schoolmaster, dividing the bread and butterfor three into as many portions as there were children, ‘you hadbetter look sharp with your breakfast, for the horn will blow in aminute or two, and then every boy leaves off.’　　Permission being thus given to fall to, the boys began to eatvoraciously, and in desperate haste: while the schoolmaster (whowas in high good humour after his meal) picked his teeth with afork, and looked smilingly on. In a very short time, the horn washeard.　　‘I thought it wouldn’t be long,’ said Squeers, jumping up andproducing a little basket from under the seat; ‘put what youhaven’t had time to eat, in here, boys! You’ll want it on the road!’　　Nicholas was considerably startled by these very economicalarrangements; but he had no time to reflect upon them, for thelittle boys had to be got up to the top of the coach, and their boxeshad to be brought out and put in, and Mr Squeers’s luggage was tobe seen carefully deposited in the boot, and all these offices werein his department. He was in the full heat and bustle of concludingthese operations, when his uncle, Mr Ralph Nickleby, accostedhim.　　‘Oh! here you are, sir!’ said Ralph. ‘Here are your mother andsister, sir.’　　‘Where?’ cried Nicholas, looking hastily round.　　‘Here!’ replied his uncle. ‘Having too much money and nothingat all to do with it, they were paying a hackney coach as I came up,sir.’　　‘We were afraid of being too late to see him before he wentaway from us,’ said Mrs Nickleby, embracing her son, heedless ofthe unconcerned lookers-on in the coach-yard.　　 ‘Very good, ma’am,’ returned Ralph, ‘you’re the best judge ofcourse. I merely said that you were paying a hackney coach. Inever pay a hackney coach, ma’am; I never hire one. I haven’tbeen in a hackney coach of my own hiring, for thirty years, and Ihope I shan’t be for thirty more, if I live as long.’　　‘I should never have forgiven myself if I had not seen him,’ saidMrs Nickleby. ‘Poor dear boy—going away without his breakfasttoo, because he feared to distress us!’　　‘Mighty fine certainly,’ said Ralph, with great testiness. ‘When Ifirst went to business, ma’am, I took a penny loaf and a ha’porth ofmilk for my breakfast as I walked to the city every morning; whatdo you say to that, ma’am? Breakfast! Bah!’　　‘Now, Nickleby,’ said Squeers, coming up at the momentbuttoning his greatcoat; ‘I think you’d better get up behind. I’mafraid of one of them boys falling off and then there’s twentypound a year gone.’　　‘Dear Nicholas,’ whispered Kate, touching her brother’s arm,‘who is that vulgar man?’　　‘Eh!’ growled Ralph, whose quick ears had caught the inquiry.　　‘Do you wish to be introduced to Mr Squeers, my dear?’　　‘That the schoolmaster! No, uncle. Oh no!’ replied Kate,shrinking back.　　‘I’m sure I heard you say as much, my dear,’ retorted Ralph inhis cold sarcastic manner. ‘Mr Squeers, here’s my niece:　　Nicholas’s sister!’　　‘Very glad to make your acquaintance, miss,’ said Squeers,raising his hat an inch or two. ‘I wish Mrs Squeers took gals, andwe had you for a teacher. I don’t know, though, whether shemightn’t grow jealous if we had. Ha! ha! ha!’　　 If the proprietor of Dotheboys Hall could have known what waspassing in his assistant’s breast at that moment, he would havediscovered, with some surprise, that he was as near being soundlypummelled as he had ever been in his life. Kate Nickleby, having aquicker perception of her brother’s emotions, led him gently aside,and thus prevented Mr Squeers from being impressed with thefact in a peculiarly disagreeable manner.　　‘My dear Nicholas,’ said the young lady, ‘who is this man? Whatkind of place can it be that you are going to?’　　‘I hardly know, Kate,’ replied Nicholas, pressing his sister’shand. ‘I suppose the Yorkshire folks are rather rough anduncultivated; that’s all.’　　‘But this person,’ urged Kate.　　‘Is my employer, or master, or whatever the proper name maybe,’ replied Nicholas quickly; ‘and I was an ass to take hiscoarseness ill. They are looking this way, and it is time I was in myplace. Bless you, love, and goodbye! Mother, look forward to ourmeeting again someday! Uncle, farewell! Thank you heartily for allyou have done and all you mean to do. Quite ready, sir!’　　With these hasty adieux, Nicholas mounted nimbly to his seat,and waved his hand as gallantly as if his heart went with it.　　At this moment, when the coachman and guard werecomparing notes for the last time before starting, on the subject ofthe way-bill; when porters were screwing out the last reluctantsixpences, itinerant newsmen making the last offer of a morningpaper, and the horses giving the last impatient rattle to theirharness; Nicholas felt somebody pulling softly at his leg. He lookeddown, and there stood Newman Noggs, who pushed up into hishand a dirty letter.　　 ‘What’s this?’ inquired Nicholas.　　‘Hush!’ rejoined Noggs, pointing to Mr Ralph Nickleby, whowas saying a few earnest words to Squeers, a short distance off:　　‘Take it. Read it. Nobody knows. That’s all.’　　‘Stop!’ cried Nicholas.　　‘No,’ replied Noggs.　　Nicholas cried stop, again, but Newman Noggs was gone.　　A minute’s bustle, a banging of the coach doors, a swaying ofthe vehicle to one side, as the heavy coachman, and still heavierguard, climbed into their seats; a cry of all right, a few notes fromthe horn, a hasty glance of two sorrowful faces below, and the hardfeatures of Mr Ralph Nickleby—and the coach was gone too, andrattling over the stones of Smithfield.　　The little boys’ legs being too short to admit of their feet restingupon anything as they sat, and the little boys’ bodies beingconsequently in imminent hazard of being jerked off the coach,Nicholas had enough to do over the stones to hold them on.　　Between the manual exertion and the mental anxiety attendantupon this task, he was not a little relieved when the coach stoppedat the Peacock at Islington. He was still more relieved when ahearty-looking gentleman, with a very good-humoured face, and avery fresh colour, got up behind, and proposed to take the othercorner of the seat.　　‘If we put some of these youngsters in the middle,’ said thenewcomer, ‘they’ll be safer in case of their going to sleep; eh?’　　‘If you’ll have the goodness, sir,’ replied Squeers, ‘that’ll be thevery thing. Mr Nickleby, take three of them boys between you andthe gentleman. Belling and the youngest Snawley can sit betweenme and the guard. Three children,’ said Squeers, explainin