" I really don't know, I do NOT know what's
to be done with that young fellow; he's always a-wishing something
horrid. He said once, he wished he was a donkey, because then he
wouldn't have a father as didn't love him! Pretty wicious that for a
child of six!'
Mr Squeers was so much moved by the contemplation of this hardened
nature in one so young, that he angrily put up the letter, and sought,
in a new train of ideas, a subject of consolation.
'It's a long time to have been a-lingering in London,' he said; 'and
this is a precious hole to come and live in, even if it has been only
for a week or so. Still, one hundred pound is five boys, and five boys
takes a whole year to pay one hundred pounds, and there's their keep to
be substracted, besides. There's nothing lost, neither, by one's being
here; because the boys' money comes in just the same as if I was at
home, and Mrs Squeers she keeps them in order. There'll be some lost
time to make up, of course. There'll be an arrear of flogging as'll have
to be gone through: still, a couple of days makes that all right, and
one don't mind a little extra work for one hundred pound.
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