One of our boys--gorging his-self with vittles, and then turning in; that's their way--got a abscess on him last week.

To see how she operated upon him with a pen-knife! Oh Lor!' said Squeers, heaving a sigh, and nodding his head a great many times, 'what a member of society that woman is!' Mr Squeers indulged in a retrospective look, for some quarter of a minute, as if this allusion to his lady's excellences had naturally led his mind to the peaceful village of Dotheboys near Greta Bridge in Yorkshire; and then looked at Ralph, as if waiting for him to say something.
'Have you quite recovered that scoundrel's attack ?' asked Ralph.
'I've only just done it, if I've done it now,' replied Squeers.

'I was one blessed bruise, sir,' said Squeers, touching first the roots of his hair, and then the toes of his boots, 'from HERE to THERE.

Vinegar and brown paper, vinegar and brown paper, from morning to night.

I suppose there was a matter of half a ream of brown paper stuck upon me, from first to last.