Of the internal economy of Dotheboys Hall A RIDE of two hundred and odd miles in severe weather, is one of the best softeners of a hard bed that ingenuity can devise. Perhaps it is even a sweetener of dreams, for those which hovered over the rough couch of Nicholas, and whispered their airy nothings in his ear, were of an agreeable and happy kind. He was making his fortune very fast indeed, when the faint glimmer of an expiring candle shone before his eyes, and a voice he had no difficulty in recognising as part and parcel of Mr Squeers, admonished him that it was time to rise.
`Past seven, Nickleby,' said Mr Squeers.
`Has morning come already?' asked Nicholas, sitting up in bed.
`Ah! that has it,' replied Squeers, `and ready iced too. Now, Nickleby, come; tumble up, will you?'
Nicholas needed no further admonition, but `tumbled up' at once, and proceeded to dress himself by the light of the taper, which Mr Squeers carried in his hand.
`Here's a pretty go,' said that gentleman; `the pump's froze.'
`Indeed!' said Nicholas, not much interested in the intelligence.
`Yes,' replied Squeers. `You can't wash yourself this morning.'
`Not wash myself!' exclaimed Nicholas.
`No, not a bit of it,' rejoined Squeers tartly. `So you must be content with giving yourself a dry polish till we break the ice in the well, and can get a bucketful out for the boys. Don't stand staring at me, but do look sharp, will you?'
Offering no further observation, Nicholas huddled on his clothes. Squeers, meanwhile, opened the shutters and blew the candle out; when the voice of his amiable consort was heard in the passage, demanding admittance.
`Come in, my love,' said Squeers.
Mrs Squeers came in, still habited in the primitive night-jacket which had displayed the symmetry of her figure on the previous night, and further ornamented with a beaver bonnet of some antiquity, which she wore, with much ease and lightness, on the top of the nightcap before mentioned.
`Drat the things,' said the lady, opening the cupboard; `I can't find the school spoon anywhere.'
`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.'
`Purify fiddlesticks,' ends,' said his lady. `Don't think, young man, that we go to the expense of flower of brimstone and molasses, just to purify them; because if you think we carry on the business in that way, you'll find yourself mistaken, and so I tell you plainly.'
`My dear,' said Squeers frowning. `Hem!'
`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.'
Having given this explanation, Mrs Squeers put her head into the closet and instituted a stricter search after the spoon, in which Mr Squeers assisted.
A few words passed between them while they were thus engaged, but as their voices were partially stifled by the cupboard, all that Nicholas could distinguish was, that Mr Squeers said what Mrs Squeers had said, was injudicious, and that Mrs Squeers said what Mr Squeers said, was `stuff.'
A vast deal of searching and rummaging ensued, and it proving fruitless, Smike was called in, and pushed by Mrs Squeers, and boxed by Mr Squeers;which course of treatment brightening his intellects, enabled him to suggest that possibly Mrs Squeers might have the spoon in her pocket, as indeed turned out to be the case. As Mrs Squeers had previously protested, however, that she was quite certain she had not got it, Smike received another box on the ear for presuming to contradict his mistress, together with a promise of a sound thrashing if he were not more respectful in future; so that he took nothing very advantageous by his motion.
`A most invaluable woman, that, Nickleby,' said Squeers when his consort had hurried away, pushing the drudge before her.
`Indeed, sir!' observed Nicholas.
`I don't know her equal,' said Squeers; `I do not know her equal. That woman, Nickleby, is always the same--always the same bustling, lively, active, saving creetur that you see her now.'
Nicholas sighed involuntarily at the thought of the agreeable domestic prospect thus opened to him; but Squeers was, fortunately, too much occupied with his own reflections to perceive it.
`It's my way to say, when I am up in London,' continued Squeers, `that to them boys she is a mother. But she is more than a mother to them; ten times more. She does things for them boys, Nickleby, that I don't believe half the mothers going, would do for their own sons.'
`I should think they would not, sir,' answered Nicholas.
Now, the fact was, that both Mr and Mrs Squeers viewed the boys in the light of their proper and natural enemies; or, in other words, they held and considered that their business and profession was to get as much from every boy as could by possibility be screwed out of him. On this point they were both agreed, and behaved in unison accordingly. The only difference between them was, that Mrs Squeers waged war against the enemy openly and fearlessly, and that Squeers covered his rascality, even at home, with a spice of his habitual deceit; as if he really had a notion of someday or other being able to take himself in, and persuade his own mind that he was a very good fellow.
`But come,' said Squeers, interrupting the progress of some thoughts to this effect in the mind of his usher, `let's go to the schoolroom; and lend me a hand with my school-coat, will you?'