6, in the court.' 'There is a double wallflower at No.

6, in the court, is there ?' said Nicholas.
'Yes, is there!' replied Tim, 'and planted in a cracked jug, without a spout.

There were hyacinths there, this last spring, blossoming, in--but you'll laugh at that, of course.' 'At what ?' 'At their blossoming in old blacking-bottles,' said Tim.
'Not I, indeed,' returned Nicholas.
Tim looked wistfully at him, for a moment, as if he were encouraged by the tone of this reply to be more communicative on the subject; and sticking behind his ear, a pen that he had been making, and shutting up his knife with a smart click, said, 'They belong to a sickly bedridden hump-backed boy, and seem to be the only pleasure, Mr Nickleby, of his sad existence.

How many years is it,' said Tim, pondering, 'since I first noticed him, quite a little child, dragging himself about on a pair of tiny crutches?
Well! Well! Not many; but though they would appear nothing, if I thought of other things, they seem a long, long time, when I think of him.

It is a sad thing,' said Tim, breaking off, 'to see a little deformed child sitting apart from other children, who are active and merry, watching the games he is denied the power to share in.