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Updated: June 23, 2025
'I've got him, hard and fast. 'Wa'at! exclaimed John Browdie, pushing away his plate. 'Got that poor dom'd scoondrel? Where? 'Why, in the top back room, at my lodging, replied Squeers, 'with him on one side, and the key on the other. 'At thy loodgin'! Thee'st gotten him at thy loodgin'? Ho! ho! The schoolmeasther agin all England.
'I might ha' knowa'd, said John, 'that nobody but thou would ha' coom wi' sike a knock as you. Thot was the wa' thou knocked at schoolmeasther's door, eh? Ha, ha, ha! But I say; wa'at be a' this aboot schoolmeasther? 'You know it then? said Nicholas. 'They were talking aboot it, doon toon, last neeght, replied John, 'but neane on 'em seemed quite to un'erstan' it, loike.
'It was you, was it, returned Squeers, 'that helped off my runaway boy? It was you, was it? 'Me! returned John, in a loud tone. 'Yes, it wa' me, coom; wa'at o' that? It wa' me. Noo then! 'You hear him say he did it, my child! said Squeers, appealing to his daughter. 'You hear him say he did it! 'Did it! cried John. 'I'll tell 'ee more; hear this, too.
And she wur coaxin', and coaxin', and wheedlin', and wheedlin' a' the blessed wa'. "Wa'at didst thou let yon chap mak' oop tiv'ee for?" says I. "I deedn't, John," says she, a squeedgin my arm. "You deedn't?" says I. "Noa," says she, a squeedgin of me agean. 'Lor, John! interposed his pretty wife, colouring very much. 'How can you talk such nonsense? As if I should have dreamt of such a thing!
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