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Updated: July 15, 2025
But Mrs Squeers's lord it was; and in a tolerably disconsolate mood Mrs Squeers's lord appeared to be, as, helping himself from a black bottle which stood on the table beside him, he cast round the chamber a look, in which very slight regard for the objects within view was plainly mingled with some regretful and impatient recollection of distant scenes and persons.
At length he felt it was hopeless to remain, and going downstairs again, inquired of one of the lodgers if he knew anything of Mr Squeers's movements mentioning that worthy by an assumed name which had been agreed upon between them.
A Master of Arts would be preferred." When this advertisement in the "London Herald" came to the notice of Mr. Nicholas Nickleby, then in search of a position as teacher, it seemed to be the opening for which he was looking, and the next day he hastened to the Saracen's Head, Snow Hill, to have an interview with Mr. Wackford Squeers. Mr. Squeers's appearance was not prepossessing.
Wackford Squeers's academy, on the strength of the memorable advertisement in the London newspapers. A master of arts would be preferred!" Immediately after this, in the Reading, came the description of Mr.
Squeers had finished their talk, Nicholas Nickleby entered. He briefly stated his desire for a position, his having seen Mr. Squeers's "Herald" advertisement, and, after more or less questioning and examination from the schoolmaster, Nicholas was engaged as assistant master for Dotheboys Hall, and it was settled that he was to go by coach with Mr. Squeers at eight o'clock the next morning.
Mr Squeers's catalogue of his own merits and accomplishments, which was partly the result of a concerted plan between himself and Ralph Nickleby, and flowed, in part, from the black bottle, was here interrupted by Mrs Sliderskew. 'Ha, ha, ha! she cried, folding her arms and wagging her head; 'and so he wasn't married after all, wasn't he. Not married after all?
When Miss Squeers had 'done' the friend's hair, the friend 'did' Miss Squeers's hair, throwing in some striking improvements in the way of ringlets down the neck; and then, when they were both touched up to their entire satisfaction, they went downstairs in full state with the long gloves on, all ready for company. 'Where's John, 'Tilda? said Miss Squeers.
Livy was tempted to bring away a little porter-pot hanging outside the door, as a trophy; but fearing Squeers's squint eye was upon her, she refrained, and took a muddy pebble instead. They took a peep at the Temple and its garden. The fountain was not playing, but it looked very pleasant, nevertheless; and as they stood there the sun came out, as if anxious that they should see it at its best.
Peg demanded what he laughed at, but no answer was returned. Newman's arm could no longer be restrained; the bellows, descending heavily and with unerring aim on the very centre of Mr Squeers's head, felled him to the floor, and stretched him on it flat and senseless. In which one Scene of this History is closed
John cantered away, and arriving at Dotheboys Hall, tied his horse to a gate and made his way to the schoolroom door, which he found locked on the inside. A tremendous noise and riot arose from within, and, applying his eye to a convenient crevice in the wall, he did not remain long in ignorance of its meaning. The news of Mr Squeers's downfall had reached Dotheboys; that was quite clear.
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