When the spelling class was up, Squeers says to Smike, the big, helpless dunce, 'Spell window,'"

And Smike says, 'W-i-n-d-e-r,' 'All right,' Squeers says, 'now go out and wash 'em,' Well, I hope I got the spelling a little nearer right, but I came home and began washing my windows.

In particular the plight of one poor boy, older than the rest, called Smike, a drudge whom starvation and ill-treatment had rendered dull and slow-witted, aroused all Nicholas's pity.

It was Smike who was the cause of Nicholas leaving Yorkshire.

But there came a day when Smike, unable to face his tormentors any longer, ran away.

The work this unhappy drudge performed would have cost the establishment some ten or twelve shillings a week in the way of wages, and Squeers, who, as a matter of policy, made severe examples of all runaways from Dotheboys Hall, prepared to take full vengeance on Smike.

At the first blow Smike uttered a shriek of pain, and Nicholas Nickleby started up from his desk, and cried "Stop!"

"Is this a theatre?" whispered Smike, in amazement; "I thought it was a blaze of light and finery.

" "Why, so it is," replied Nicholas, hardly less surprised; "But not by day, Smike,not by day.

He went through his part as briskly as he could, then took Smike's arm and walked home to bed.

The lookers-on laughed very heartily, and as it was well to put a good face upon the matter, Nicholas laughed too, when he had succeeded in disengaging himself; and rescuing the astonished Smike, climbed up to the coach-roof after him, waving farewell, as they rolled away.

Mr. Squeers had dismounted, and after ordering the boy, whom he called Smike, to see to the pony, and to take care that he hadn't any more corn that night, he told Nicholas to wait at the front door a minute, while he went round and let him in.

Mrs. Squeers then came in, and was duly made acquainted with Nicholas, and after some conversation between Mr. and Mrs. Squeers, a young servant girl brought in a Yorkshire pie, which being set upon the table, the boy Smike appeared with a jug of ale.

Smike glanced, with an anxious and timid expression, at the papers, as if with a sickly hope that one among them might relate to him.

"What are you bothering about there, Smike?" cried Mrs. Squeers; "let the things alone, can't you?" "Eh," said Squeers, looking up.

"Here, you Smike; take away now.

" Smike shuffled out with the basin, and Mrs. Squeers, hurried out after him into a wash-house where there were a number of little wooden bowls which were arranged upon a board.

Upon the wretched creature Smike, all the spleen and ill-humour that could not be vented on Nicholas, were unceasingly bestowed.

Nicholas hardly dared to look out of the window; but he did so, and the very first object that met his eyes was the wretched Smike: so bedabbled with mud and rain, so haggard, and worn, and wild, that, but for his garments being such as no scarecrow was ever seen to wear, he might have been doubtful, even then, of his identity.

The news that Smike had been caught and brought back in triumph, ran like wild-fire through the hungry community, and expectation was on tiptoe all the morning.

On tiptoe it was destined to remain, however, until afternoon; when Squeers called the school together, and dragged Smike by the collar to the front of the room before them all.

" "Spare me, sir!" cried Smike.

" "I was driven to do it," said Smike faintly; and casting an imploring look about him.

screamed Squeers, almost beside himself with rage, and seizing Smike as he spoke.

The second or heart's idol was Charles DickensDickens as writer, Dickens as the hero of a past England, Dickens as humorist, Dickens as leader of men, above all, Dickens as friend of the poor, the outcast, the pale little sempstress and the downtrodden Smike.