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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

"Nicholas Nickleby"


It needed no such reflections as those which the memory of old days,
and wanderings among scenes where our childhood has been passed, usually
awaken in the most insensible minds, to soften the heart of Nicholas,
and render him more than usually mindful of his drooping friend. By
night and day, at all times and seasons: always watchful, attentive, and
solicitous, and never varying in the discharge of his self-imposed duty
to one so friendless and helpless as he whose sands of life were now
fast running out and dwindling rapidly away: he was ever at his side. He
never left him. To encourage and animate him, administer to his wants,
support and cheer him to the utmost of his power, was now his constant
and unceasing occupation.
They procured a humble lodging in a small farmhouse, surrounded by
meadows where Nicholas had often revelled when a child with a troop of
merry schoolfellows; and here they took up their rest.
At first, Smike was strong enough to walk about, for short distances
at a time, with no other support or aid than that which Nicholas could
afford him. At this time, nothing appeared to interest him so much as
visiting those places which had been most familiar to his friend in
bygone days.


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