The following morning, when Nicholas appeared downstairs, Mrs. Squeers was
in a state of great excitement.
"I can't find the school spoon anywhere," she said anxiously.
"Never mind it, my dear," observed Squeers in a soothing manner; "it's of
no consequence."
"No consequence? Why, how you talk!" retorted Mrs. Squeers sharply, "isn't
it brimstone morning?"
"I forgot, my dear," rejoined Squeers; "yes, it certainly is. We purify
the boys' bloods now and then, Nickleby."
"Oh! nonsense," rejoined Mrs. Squeers. "If the young man comes to be a
teacher here, let him understand, at once, that we don't want any foolery
about the boys. They have the brimstone and treacle, partly because if
they hadn't something or other in the way of medicine they 'd be always
ailing and giving a world of trouble, and partly because it spoils their
appetites and comes cheaper than breakfast and dinner. So, it does them
good and us good at the same time, and that's fair enough, I'm sure!"
"But come," said Squeers, "let's go to the schoolroom; and lend me a hand
with my school-coat, will you?"
Nicholas assisted his master to put on an old fustian shooting jacket, and
Squeers, arming himself with his cane, led the way across a yard, to a
door in the rear of the house.
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