To wound him through his own affections and fancies--.

If I could strike him through this boy--' 'Strike him how you like, sir,' interrupted Squeers, 'only hit him hard enough, that's all--and with that, I'll say good-morning.

Here!--just chuck that little boy's hat off that corner peg, and lift him off the stool will you ?' Bawling these requests to Newman Noggs, Mr Squeers betook himself to the little back-office, and fitted on his child's hat with parental anxiety, while Newman, with his pen behind his ear, sat, stiff and immovable, on his stool, regarding the father and son by turns with a broad stare.
'He's a fine boy, an't he ?' said Squeers, throwing his head a little on one side, and falling back to the desk, the better to estimate the proportions of little Wackford.
'Very,' said Newman.
'Pretty well swelled out, an't he ?' pursued Squeers.

'He has the fatness of twenty boys, he has.' 'Ah!' replied Newman, suddenly thrusting his face into that of Squeers, 'he has;--the fatness of twenty!--more! He's got it all.

God help that others.