You'll be in need of mercy then.

You must remember that you may have to seek for mercy and not find it, just as you're seeking for snuff.' At the first sentence of this admonition, the twinkle subsided from Mrs.
Brick's eyes.

The lid of her box went 'click!' and her heart was shut up at the same moment.
But now Mr.Barton's attention was called for by Mr.Spratt, who was dragging a small and unwilling boy from the rear.

Mr.Spratt was a small-featured, small-statured man, with a remarkable power of language, mitigated by hesitation, who piqued himself on expressing unexceptionable sentiments in unexceptional language on all occasions.
'Mr.Barton, sir--aw--aw--excuse my trespassing on your time--aw--to beg that you will administer a rebuke to this boy; he is--aw--aw--most inveterate in ill-behaviour during service-time.' The inveterate culprit was a boy of seven, vainly contending against 'candles' at his nose by feeble sniffing.

But no sooner had Mr.Spratt uttered his impeachment, than Miss Fodge rushed forward and placed herself between Mr.Barton and the accused.
'That's _my_ child, Muster Barton,' she exclaimed, further manifesting her maternal instincts by applying her apron to her offspring's nose.
'He's al'ys a-findin' faut wi' him, and a-poundin' him for nothin'.