raymarsh. Graymarsh's aunt is very
glad to hear he's so well and happy, and sends her respectful
compliments to Mrs. Squeers and thinks she must be an angel. She
likewise thinks that Mr. Squeers is too good for this world, but hopes
he may long be spared to carry on the business. Would have sent the two
pairs of stockings as desired, but is short of money, so forwards a
tract instead, and hopes that Graymarsh will put his trust in
Providence. Hopes, above all, that he will study in everything to please
Mr. and Mrs. Squeers, and look upon them as his only friends; and that
he will love master Squeers, and not object to sleeping five in a bed,
which no Christian should. Ah! a delightful letter. Very affecting
indeed.

"Mobbs!--Mobbs's mother-in-law took to her bed on hearing that he
wouldn't eat fat, and has been very ill ever since. She wishes to know,
by an early post, where he expects to go to if he quarrels with his
vittles; and with what feelings he could turn up his nose at the cow's
liver broth, after his good master had asked a blessing on it. This was
told her in the London newspapers--not by Mr. Squeers, for he's too kind
and good to set anybody against anybody. She is sorry to find he is
discontented, which is sinful and horrid, and hopes Mr. Squeers will
flog him into a happier state of mind. With which view she has also
stopped his half penny a week pocket-money, and given a double-bladed
knife with a cork-screw in it to the missionaries, which she had bought
on purpose for him. A sulky state of feeling won't do. Cheerfulness and
contentment must be kept up. Mobbs, come to me!"

Mobbs moved slowly towards the desk, rubbing his eyes in anticipation of
good cause for doing so; and he soon afterwards retired, with as good
cause as a boy need have.

This business dispatched, a few slovenly lessons were performed, and
Squeers retired to his fireside, leaving Nicholas to take care of the
boys in the school-room which was very cold, and where a meal of bread
was served out shortly after dark.

There was a small stove at that corner of the room which was nearest
the master's desk, and by it Nicholas sat down, depressed and
self-degraded.

As he was absorbed in his meditations, he all at once encountered the
upturned face of Smike, who was on his knees before the stove, picking a
few stray cinders from the hearth and planting them on the fire. He had
paused to steal a look at Nicholas, and when he saw that he wa