‘The same, sir,’ said Mr. Squeers, with an assumption of extreme surprise.
‘The gentleman,’ said the stranger, ‘that advertised in the Times newspaper?’
‘—Morning Post, Chronicle, Herald, and Advertiser, regarding the Academy called Dotheboys Hall at the delightful village of Dotheboys, near Greta Bridge in Yorkshire,’ added Mr. Squeers. ‘You come on business, sir. I see by my young friends. How do you do, my little gentleman? and how do you do, sir?’ With this salutation Mr. Squeers patted the heads of two hollow-eyed, small-boned little boys, whom the applicant had brought with him, and waited for further communications.
‘I am in the oil and colour way. My name is Snawley, sir,’ said the stranger.
Squeers inclined his head as much as to say, ‘And a remarkably pretty name, too.’
The stranger continued. ‘I have been thinking, Mr. Squeers, of placing my two boys at your school.’
‘It is not for me to say so, sir,’ replied Mr. Squeers, ‘but I don’t think you could possibly do a better thing.’
‘Hem!’ said the other. ‘Twenty pounds per annewum, I believe, Mr. Squeers?’
‘Guineas,’ rejoined the schoolmaster, with a persuasive smile.
‘Pounds for two, I think, Mr. Squeers,’ said Mr. Snawley, solemnly.