e, sir, he's weeding the garden," replied a small voice.

"To be sure," said Squeers. "So he is. B-o-t, bot, t-i-n, tin, n-e-y, ney,
bottinney, noun substantive, a knowledge of plants. Third boy, what's a
horse?"

"A beast, sir," replied the boy.

"So it is," said Squeers. "Ain't it, Nickleby?"

"I believe there is no doubt of that, sir," answered Nicholas.

"Of course there isn't," said Squeers. "A horse is a quadruped, and
quadruped's Latin for beast, as every body that's gone through the grammar
knows. As you're perfect in that," resumed Squeers, turning to the boy,
"go and look after _my_ horse, and rub him down well, or I'll rub you
down. The rest of the class go and draw water up till somebody tells you
to leave off, for it's washing day to-morrow."

So saying, he dismissed the class, and eyed Nicholas with a look, half
cunning and half doubtful, as if he were not altogether certain what he
might think of him by this time.

"That's the way we do it, Nickleby," he said, after a pause.

Nicholas shrugged his shoulders, and said he saw it was.

"And a very good way it is, too," said Squeers. "Now just take them
fourteen little boys and hear them some reading, because, you know, you
must begin to be useful."

Mr. Squeers said this as if it had suddenly occurred to him, either that
he must not say too much to his assistant, or that his assistant did not
say enough to him in praise of the establishment. The children were
arranged in a semi-circle round the new master, and he was soon listening
to their dull, drawling, hesitating recital of stories to be found in the
old spelling books. In this exciting occupation the morning lagged heavily
on. At one o'clock, the boys sat down in the kitchen to some hard salt
beef. After this, there was another hour of crouching in the schoolroom
and shivering with cold, and then school began again.

It was Mr. Squeers's custom to call the boys together, and make a sort of
report, after every half-yearly visit to the metropolis, regarding the
relations and friends he had seen, the news he had heard, the letters he
had brought down, and so forth. This solemn proceeding took place on the
afternoon of the day succeeding his return. The boys were recalled from
house-window, garden and stable, and cow-yard, when Mr. Squeers with a
small bundle of papers in his hand, and Mrs. Squeers following with a pair
of canes, entered the room, and proclaimed silence.

"Let any boy speak wit