the
classical, commercial, or mathematical line, says I, gravely, "Why, sir,
in the first place, are you a philosopher?"--"No, Mr Squeers," he says,
"I an't." "Then, sir," says I, "I am sorry for you, for I shan't be
able to explain it." Naturally, the parent goes away and wishes he was a
philosopher, and, equally naturally, thinks I'm one.'

Saying this, and a great deal more, with tipsy profundity and a
serio-comic air, and keeping his eye all the time on Mrs Sliderskew, who
was unable to hear one word, Mr Squeers concluded by helping himself and
passing the bottle: to which Peg did becoming reverence.

'That's the time of day!' said Mr Squeers. 'You look twenty pound ten
better than you did.'

Again Mrs Sliderskew chuckled, but modesty forbade her assenting
verbally to the compliment.

'Twenty pound ten better,' repeated Mr Squeers, 'than you did that day
when I first introduced myself. Don't you know?'

'Ah!' said Peg, shaking her head, 'but you frightened me that day.'

'Did I?' said Squeers; 'well, it was rather a startling thing for a
stranger to come and recommend himself by saying that he knew all about
you, and what your name was, and why you were living so quiet here, and
what you had boned, and who you boned it from, wasn't it?'

Peg nodded her head in strong assent.

'But I know everything that happens in that way, you see,' continued
Squeers. 'Nothing takes place, of that kind, that I an't up to
entirely. I'm a sort of a lawyer, Slider, of first-rate standing, and
understanding too; I'm the intimate friend and confidential adwiser
of pretty nigh every man, woman, and child that gets themselves into
difficulties by being too nimble with their fingers, I'm--'

Mr Squeers's catalogue of his own merits and accomplishments, which
was partly the result of a concerted plan between himself and Ralph
Nickleby, and flowed, in part, from the black bottle, was here
interrupted by Mrs Sliderskew.

'Ha, ha, ha!' she cried, folding her arms and wagging her head; 'and so
he wasn't married after all, wasn't he. Not married after all?'

'No,' replied Squeers, 'that he wasn't!'

'And a young lover come and carried off the bride, eh?' said Peg.

'From under his very nose,' replied Squeers; 'and I'm told the young
chap cut up rough besides, and broke the winders, and forced him to
swaller his wedding favour which nearly choked him.'

'Tell me all about it again,' cried Peg, with a malicious relish of her
old m