Nicholas Nickleby

t softeners of a hard bed that ingenuity candevise. Perhaps it is even a sweetener of dreams, for thosewhich hovered

amazement. Besides these, there was along row of boys waiting, with countenances of no pleasantanticipation, to be treacled; and another file, who had just escapedfrom the infliction, making a variety of wry mouths indicative of anything but satisfaction. The whole were attired in such motley,ill-assorted, extraordinary garments, as would have beenirresistibly ridiculous, but for the foul appearance of dirt, disorder,and disease, with which they were associated.　　'Now,' said Squeers, giving the desk a great rap with his cane,which made half the little boys nearly jump out of their boots, 'isthat physicking over?'　　'Just over,' said Mrs Squeers, choking the last boy in her hurry,and tapping the crown of his head with the wooden spoon torestore him. 'Here, you Smike; take away now. Look sharp!'　　Smike shuffled out with the basin, and Mrs Squeers havingcalled up a little boy with a curly head, and wiped her hands uponit, hurried out after him into a species of wash-house, where therewas a small fire and a large kettle, together with a number of littlewooden bowls which were arranged upon a board.　　Into these bowls, Mrs Squeers, assisted by the hungry servant,poured a brown composition, which looked like dilutedpincushions without the covers, and was called porridge. A minutewedge of brown bread was inserted in each bowl, and when theyhad eaten their porridge by means of the bread, the boys ate thebread itself, and had finished their breakfast; whereupon MrSqueers said, in a solemn voice, 'For what we have received, maythe Lord make us truly thankful!'-and went away to his own.　　Nicholas distended his stomach with a bowl of porridge, formuch the same reason which induces some savages to swallowearth-lest they should be inconveniently hungry when there isnothing to eat. Having further disposed of a slice of bread andbutter, allotted to him in virtue of his office, he sat himself down,to wait for school-time.　　 He could not but observe how silent and sad the boys allseemed to be. There was none of the noise and clamour of aschoolroom; none of its boisterous play, or hearty mirth. Thechildren sat crouching and shivering together, and seemed to lackthe spirit to move about. The only pupil who evinced the slightesttendency towards locomotion or playfulness was Master Squeers,and as his chief amusement was to tread upon the other boys' toesin his new boots, his flow of spirits was rather disagreeable thanotherwise.　　After some half-hour's delay, Mr Squeers reappeared, and theboys took their places and their books, of which latter commoditythe average might be about one to eight learners. A few minuteshaving elapsed, during which Mr Squeers looked very profound,as if he had a perfect apprehension of what was inside all thebooks, and could say every word of their contents by heart if heonly chose to take the trouble, that gentleman called up the firstclass.　　Obedient to this summons there ranged themselves in front ofthe schoolmaster's desk, half-a-dozen scarecrows, out at knees andelbows, one of whom placed a torn and filthy book beneath hislearned eye.　　'This is the first class in English spelling and philosophy,Nickleby,' said Squeers, beckoning Nicholas to stand beside him.　　'We'll get up a Latin one, and hand that over to you. Now, then,where's the first boy?'　　'Please, sir, he's cleaning the back-parlour window,' said thetemporary head of the philosophical class.　　'So he is, to be sure,' rejoined Squeers. 'We go upon thepractical mode of teaching, Nickleby; the regular education system. C-l-e-a-n, clean, verb active, to make bright, to scour. W-in, win, d-e-r, der, winder, a casement. When the boy knows thisout of book, he goes and does it. It's just the same principle as theuse of the globes. Where's the second boy?'　　'Please, sir, he's weeding the garden,' replied a small voice.　　'To be sure,' said Squeers, by no means disconcerted. 'So he is.　　B-o-t, bot, t-i-n, tin, bottin, n-e-y, ney, bottinney, noun substantive,a knowledge of plants. When he has learned that bottinney meansa knowledge of plants, he goes and knows 'em. That's our system,Nickleby: what do you think of it?'　　'It's very useful one, at any rate,' answered Nicholas.　　'I believe you,' rejoined Squeers, not remarking the emphasis ofhis usher. 'Third boy, what's horse?'　　'A beast, sir,' replied the boy.　　'So it is,' said Squeers. 'Ain't it, Nickleby?'　　'I believe there is no doubt of that, sir,' answered Nicholas.　　'Of course there isn't,' said Squeers. 'A horse is a quadruped,and quadruped's Latin for beast, as everybody that's gone throughthe grammar knows, or else where's the use of having grammarsat all?'　　'Where, indeed!' said Nicholas abstractedly.　　'As you're perfect in that,' resumed Squeers, turning to the boy,'go and look after my horse, and rub him down well, or I'll rub youdown. The rest of the class go and draw water up, till somebodytells you to leave off, for it's washing-day tomorrow, and they wantthe coppers filled.'　　So saying, he dismissed the first class to their experiments inpractical philosophy, and eyed Nicholas with a look, half cunningand half doubtful, as if he were not altogether certain what he might think of him by this time.　　'That's the way we do it, Nickleby,' he said, after a pause.　　Nicholas shrugged his shoulders in a manner that was scarcelyperceptible, and said he saw it was.　　'And a very good way it is, too,' said Squeers. 'Now, just takethem fourteen little boys and hear them some reading, because,you know, you must begin to be useful. Idling about here won'tdo.'　　Mr Squeers said this, as if it had suddenly occurred to him,either that he must not say too much to his assistant, or that hisassistant did not say enough to him in praise of the establishment.　　The children were arranged in a semicircle round the new master,and he was soon listening to their dull, drawling, hesitating recitalof those stories of engrossing interest which are to be found in themore antiquated spelling-books.　　In this exciting occupation, the morning lagged heavily on. Atone o'clock, the boys, having previously had their appetitesthoroughly taken away by stir-about and potatoes, sat down in thekitchen to some hard salt beef, of which Nicholas was graciouslypermitted to take his portion to his own solitary desk, to eat itthere in peace. After this, there was another hour of crouching inthe schoolroom and shivering with cold, and then school beganagain.　　It was Mr Squeer's custom to call the boys together, and make asort of report, after every half-yearly visit to the metropolis,regarding the relations and friends he had seen, the news he hadheard, the letters he had brought down, the bills which had beenpaid, the accounts which had been left unpaid, and so forth. Thissolemn proceeding always took place in the afternoon of the day succeeding his return; perhaps, because the boys acquiredstrength of mind from the suspense of the morning, or, possibly,because Mr Squeers himself acquired greater sternness andinflexibility from certain warm potations in which he was wont toindulge after his early dinner. Be this as it may, the boys wererecalled from house-window, garden, stable, and cow-yard, andthe school were assembled in full conclave, when Mr Squeers,with a small bundle of papers in his hand, and Mrs S. followingwith a pair of canes, entered the room and proclaimed silence.　　'Let any boy speak a word without leave,' said Mr Squeersmildly, 'and I'll take the skin off his back.'　　This special proclamation had the desired effect, and adeathlike silence immediately prevailed, in the midst of which MrSqueers went on to say:　　'Boys, I've been to London, and have returned to my family andyou, as strong and well as ever.'　　According to half-yearly custom, the boys gave three feeblecheers at this refreshing intelligence. Such cheers! Sights of extrastrength with the chill on.　　'I have seen the parents of some boys,' continued Squeers,turning over his papers, 'and they're so glad to hear how their sonsare getting on, that there's no prospect at all of their going away,which of course is a very pleasant thing to reflect upon, for allparties.'　　Two or three hands went to two or three eyes when Squeerssaid this, but the greater part of the young gentlemen having noparticular parents to speak of, were wholly uninterested in thething one way or other.　　'I have had disappointments to contend against,' said Squeers, looking very grim; 'Bolder's father was two pound ten short.　　Where is Bolder?'　　'Here he is, please sir,' rejoined twenty officious voices. Boysare very like men to be sure.　　'Come here, Bolder,' said Squeers.　　An unhealthy-looking boy, with warts all over his hands,stepped from his place to the master's desk, and raised his eyesimploringly to Squeers's face; his own, quite white from the rapidbeating of his heart.　　'Bolder,' said Squeers, speaking very slowly, for he wasconsidering, as the saying goes, where to have him. 'Bolder, if youfather thinks that because-why, what's this, sir?'　　As Squeers spoke, he caught up the boy's hand by the cuff ofhis jacket, and surveyed it with an edifying aspect of horror anddisgust.　　'What do you call this, sir?' demanded the schoolmaster,administering a cut with the cane to expedite the reply.　　'I can't help it, indeed, sir,' rejoined the boy, crying. 'They willcome; it's the dirty work I think, sir-at least I don't know what itis, sir, but it's not my fault.'　　'Bolder,' said