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Updated: June 4, 2025
Squeers did the plump Wackford, when displaying him as a specimen of the fine diet at Do-the-boys Hall. "Don't believe I could put you up now if I tried, for I haven't got my strength back yet, and we are both out of practice.
Just before you, you will observe a long window with the words 'coffee-room' legibly painted above it; and looking out of that window, you would have seen in addition, if you had gone at the right time, Mr Wackford Squeers with his hands in his pockets. Mr Squeers's appearance was not prepossessing. He had but one eye, and the popular prejudice runs in favour of two.
One glance showed him this; and in that one glance the terrified creature became utterly powerless and unable to utter a sound. 'Here's a go! cried Mr Squeers, gradually coming hand-over-hand down the umbrella, and only unhooking it when he had got tight hold of the victim's collar. 'Here's a delicious go! Wackford, my boy, call up one of them coaches. 'A coach, father! cried little Wackford.
Mr Squeers had hooked him in the coat collar with the handle of his umbrella, and was hanging on at the other end with all his might and main. The cry of triumph proceeded from Master Wackford, who, regardless of all his kicks and struggles, clung to him with the tenacity of a bull-dog!
Mr Squeers shook his head in a threatening manner, looking very white with passion; and taking his daughter's arm, and dragging little Wackford by the hand, retreated towards the door.
'Guards, she said in a quiet choked voice, and pointing at the fair but unconscious disciple of Wackford Squeers, 'slay me that woman. The men hesitated, as well they might. 'Will ye do my bidding, she said again in the same voice, 'or will ye not? Then they advanced upon the girl with uplifted spears.
Squeers, Wackford by name a striking likeness of his father kicking, with great vigour, under the hands of Smike, who was fitting upon him a pair of new boots that bore a most suspicious resemblance to those which the least of the little boys had worn on the journey down as the little boy himself seemed to think, for he was regarding the appropriation with a look of rueful amazement.
'These are only some pupils of mine, said Wackford Squeers, pointing to the little boy on the trunk and the two little boys on the floor, who had been staring at each other without uttering a word, and writhing their bodies into most remarkable contortions, according to the custom of little boys when they first become acquainted.
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.
Still, that isn't our affair. You want to put the responsibility on the police and I entirely agree with you." "There ought not to be any delay," said I. "There needn't be. I shall look in on Mrs. Wackford and you have to see the Rummel children; we shall pass the station on our way. Why shouldn't we drop in and see the inspector or superintendent?" The suggestion met my views exactly.
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