Natur,' said Mr Squeers, solemnly, 'is more easier conceived than described.

Oh what a blessed thing, sir, to be in a state of natur!' Pending this philosophical discourse, the bystanders had been quite stupefied with amazement, while Nicholas had looked keenly from Snawley to Squeers, and from Squeers to Ralph, divided between his feelings of disgust, doubt, and surprise.

At this juncture, Smike escaping from his father fled to Nicholas, and implored him, in most moving terms, never to give him up, but to let him live and die beside him.
'If you are this boy's father,' said Nicholas, 'look at the wreck he is, and tell me that you purpose to send him back to that loathsome den from which I brought him.' 'Scandal again!' cried Squeers.

'Recollect, you an't worth powder and shot, but I'll be even with you one way or another.' 'Stop,' interposed Ralph, as Snawley was about to speak.

'Let us cut this matter short, and not bandy words here with hare-brained profligates.