'It isn't a dream!' said Squeers. 'That's real flesh and blood! I know
the feel of it!' and being quite assured of his good fortune by these
experiments, Mr Squeers administered a few boxes on the ear, lest the
entertainments should seem to partake of sameness, and laughed louder
and longer at every one.
'Your mother will be fit to jump out of her skin, my boy, when she hears
of this,' said Squeers to his son.
'Oh, won't she though, father?' replied Master Wackford.
'To think,' said Squeers, 'that you and me should be turning out of a
street, and come upon him at the very nick; and that I should have him
tight, at only one cast of the umbrella, as if I had hooked him with a
grappling-iron! Ha, ha!'
'Didn't I catch hold of his leg, neither, father?' said little Wackford.
'You did; like a good 'un, my boy,' said Mr Squeers, patting his son's
head, 'and you shall have the best button-over jacket and waistcoat
that the next new boy brings down, as a reward of merit. Mind that. You
always keep on in the same path, and do them things that you see your
father do, and when you die you'll go right slap to Heaven and no
questions asked.
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