a wooden or stuffed representation of
a blackbird indifferently executed, would come to the side of the cage
in three small jumps, and, thrusting his bill between the bars, turn his
sightless head towards his old master--and at that moment it would be
very difficult to determine which of the two was the happier, the bird
or Tim Linkinwater.

Nor was this all. Everything gave back, besides, some reflection of the
kindly spirit of the brothers. The warehousemen and porters were such
sturdy, jolly fellows, that it was a treat to see them. Among the
shipping announcements and steam-packet list's which decorated the
counting-house wall, were designs for almshouses, statements of
charities, and plans for new hospitals. A blunderbuss and two swords
hung above the chimney-piece, for the terror of evil-doers, but the
blunderbuss was rusty and shattered, and the swords were broken and
edgeless. Elsewhere, their open display in such a condition would have
realised a smile; but, there, it seemed as though even violent and
offensive weapons partook of the reigning influence, and became emblems
of mercy and forbearance.

Such thoughts as these occurred to Nicholas very strongly, on the
morning when he first took possession of the vacant stool, and looked
about him, more freely and at ease, than he had before enjoyed an
opportunity of doing. Perhaps they encouraged and stimulated him to
exertion, for, during the next two weeks, all his spare hours, late at
night and early in the morning, were incessantly devoted to acquiring
the mysteries of book-keeping and some other forms of mercantile
account. To these, he applied himself with such steadiness and
perseverance that, although he brought no greater amount of previous
knowledge to the subject than certain dim recollections of two or three
very long sums entered into a ciphering-book at school, and relieved for
parental inspection by the effigy of a fat swan tastefully flourished
by the writing-master's own hand, he found himself, at the end of a
fortnight, in a condition to report his proficiency to Mr Linkinwater,
and to claim his promise that he, Nicholas Nickleby, should now be
allowed to assist him in his graver labours.

It was a sight to behold Tim Linkinwater slowly bring out a massive
ledger and day-book, and, after turning them over and over, and
affectionately dusting their backs and sides, open the leaves here and
there, and cast his eyes, half mournfully, half proudly,