'Yes, here he is, flesh and blood, flesh and blood.' 'Vary little flesh,' said John Browdie.
Mr Snawley was too much occupied by his parental feelings to notice this remark; and, to assure himself more completely of the restoration of his child, tucked his head under his arm again, and kept it there.
'What was it,' said Snawley, 'that made me take such a strong interest in him, when that worthy instructor of youth brought him to my house?
What was it that made me burn all over with a wish to chastise him severely for cutting away from his best friends, his pastors and masters ?' 'It was parental instinct, sir,' observed Squeers.
'That's what it was, sir,' rejoined Snawley; 'the elevated feeling, the feeling of the ancient Romans and Grecians, and of the beasts of the field and birds of the air, with the exception of rabbits and tom-cats, which sometimes devour their offspring.

My heart yearned towards him.

I could have--I don't know what I couldn't have done to him in the anger of a father.' 'It only shows what Natur is, sir,' said Mr Squeers.

'She's rum 'un, is Natur.' 'She is a holy thing, sir,' remarked Snawley.
'I believe you,' added Mr Squeers, with a moral sigh.

'I should like to know how we should ever get on without her.