|
Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
||||
 |
||||
|
Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
||||
|
|
||||
61 at finding himself so respectable. Mr Squeers was standing in a box by one of the coffee-room fire-places, fitted with one such table as is usually seen in coffee- rooms, and two of extraordinary shapes and dimensions made to suit the angles of the partition. In a corner of the seat, was a very small deal trunk, tied round with a scanty piece of cord; and on the trunk was perched--his lace-up half-boots and corduroy trousers dangling in the air--a diminutive boy, with his shoulders drawn up to his ears, and his hands planted on his knees, who glanced timidly at the schoolmaster, from time to time, with evident dread and apprehension. ‘Half-past three,’ muttered Mr Squeers, turning from the window, and looking sulkily at the coffee-room clock. ‘There will be nobody here today.’ Much vexed by this reflection, Mr Squeers looked at the little boy to see whether he was doing anything he could beat him for. As he happened not to be doing anything at all, he merely boxed his ears, and told him not to do it again. ‘At Midsummer,’ muttered Mr Squeers, resuming his complaint, ‘I took down ten boys; ten twenties is two hundred pound. I go back at eight o’clock tomorrow morning, and have got only three--three oughts is an ought--three twos is six--sixty pound. What’s come of all the boys? what’s parents got in their heads? what does it all mean?’ Here the little boy on the top of the trunk gave a violent sneeze. ‘Halloa, sir!’ growled the schoolmaster, turning round. ‘What’s that, sir?’ ‘Nothing, please sir,’ replied the little boy. ‘Nothing, sir!’ exclaimed Mr Squeers. |
