This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Chet Chris, London, UK. Nicholas Nickleby by Charles Dickens. CHAPTER XII Whereby the reader will be enabled to trace the further course of Miss Fanny Squire's love, and to ascertain whether it ran smooth or otherwise. There is a fortunate circumstance for Miss Fanny Squire's, that when her worthy papa returned home on the night of the small tea-party, he was what the initiated term, too far gone, to observe the numerous tokens of extreme vexation of spirit which were plainly visible in her countenance. Being, however, of a rather violent and quarrelsome mood in his cups, it is not impossible that he might have fallen out with her, either on this or some imaginary topic, if the young lady had not, with a foresight and prudence highly commendable, kept a boy upon purpose to bear the first brunt of the good gentleman's anger. Which, having ventured itself in a variety of kicks and cuffs, subsided sufficiently to admit of his being persuaded to go to bed, which he did with his boots on, and an umbrella under his arm. The hungry servant attended Miss Squire's in her own room, according to custom, to curl her hair, perform the other little offices of her toilet, and administer as much flattery as she could get up for the purpose. For Miss Squire's was quite lazy enough, and sufficiently vain and frivolous with all, to have been a fine lady, and it was only the arbitrary distinctions of rank and station which prevented her from being one. How lovely your hair, do curl to-night, Miss," said the handmaiden. I declared if it isn't a pity and a shame to brush it out. Hold your tongue," replied Miss Squire's, rothfully. Some considerable experience prevented the girl from being at all surprised at any outbreakable temper on the part of Miss Squire's. Having a half-perception of what had occurred in the course of the evening, she changed her mode of making herself agreeable, and proceeded on the indirect tack.  Miss Squire's sighed and composed herself to listen. I know it's very wrong in me to say so, Miss," continued the girl, delighted to see the impression she was making. Miss Price being a friend of Yorn, and all, but she do dress herself out so, and go on in such a manner to get notice that— Well, if people only saw themselves. What do you mean, fib?" asked Miss Squire's, looking in her own little glass, where, like most of us, she saw not herself, but the reflection of some pleasant image in her own brain. How you talk! Talk, Miss! It's enough to make a Tomcat talk French grammar, only to see how she tosses her head, replied the handmaid. She does toss her head, observed Miss Squire's, with an air of abstraction. So vain and so very, very plain, said the girl. Poor Tilda! sighed Miss Squire's, compassionately. And always laying herself out so, to get to be admired, pursued the servant. Oh, dear, it's positive, indelicate! I can't allow you to talk in that way, fib! said Miss Squire's. Tilda's friends are low people, and if she don't know any better, it's their fault, not hers. Well, but you know, Miss! said Phoebe, for which name fib was used as a patronising abbreviation. If she was only to take copy by a friend. Oh, if she only knew how wrong she was, and would but set herself right by you, what a nice young woman she might be in time. Fib! rejoined Miss Squire's with a stately air. It's not proper for me to hear these comparisons drawn. They make Tilda look a course in proper sort of person, and it seems unfriendly in me to listen to them. I would rather you drop the subject, fib. At the same time I must say that if Tilda Price would take pattern by somebody, not me particularly— Oh, yes, you miss! interposed fib. Well, me, fib, if you will have it so! said Miss Squire's. I must say that if she would, she will be all the better for it. So somebody else thinks, or I'm much mistaken, said the girl mysteriously. What do you mean? demanded Miss Squire's. Never mind, Miss, replied the girl. I know what I know, that's all. Fib! said Miss Squire's dramatically.  What is this dark mystery? speak. Why, if you will have it, Miss, it's this, said the servant girl. Mr. John Browdy thinks as you think, and if he wasn't too far gone to do it creditable, he'd be very glad to be off with Miss Price and on with Miss Squire's. Gracious heavens, exclaimed Miss Squire's, clasping her hands with great dignity. What is this? Truth, marmin, nothing but truth! replied the artful fib. What a situation! cried Miss Squire's, on the brink of unconsciously destroying the peace and happiness of my own Tilda. What's the reason that men fall in love with me whether I like it or not, and desert their chosen intendants for my sake? Because they can't help it, Miss, replied the girl. The reason's plain. If Miss Squire's were the reason, it was very plain. Never let me hear of it again, retorted Miss Squire's. Never, do you hear? Tilda Price has faults, many faults, but I wish her well, and above all I wish her married, for I think it highly desirable, most desirable from the very nature of her failings, that she should be married as soon as possible. No, fib, let her have, Mr. Browdy. I may pity him, poor fellow, but I have a great regard for Tilda, and only hope she may make a better wife than I think she will. With this effusion of feeling Miss Squire's went to bed. Spite is a little word, but it represents as strange a jumble of feelings and compound of discords as any polysyllable in the language. Miss Squire's knew as well in her heart of hearts that what the miserable-serving girl had said was sheer, coarse, lying, flattery, as did the girl herself. Yet the mere opportunity of venting a little ill nature against the offending Miss Price, and affecting to compassionate her weaknesses and foibles, though only in the presence of a solitary dependent, was almost as great a relief to her spleen as if the whole had been gospel truth. Nay, more! We have such extraordinary powers of persuasion when they are exerted over ourselves that Miss Squire's felt quite high-minded and great after her noble renunciation of John Browdy's hand, and looked down upon her rival with a kind of holy calmness and calmness and tranquillity that had a mighty effect in soothing her ruffled feelings. This happy state of mind had some influence in bringing about a reconciliation. For when a knock came at the front door next day and the miller's daughter was announced, Miss Squire's betook herself to the parlour in a Christian frame of spirit, perfectly beautiful to behold.  I pity your bad passions, Tilda, replied Miss Squire's, but I bear no malice. I am above it. Don't be cross, Fanny, said Miss Price. I've come to tell you something that I know will please you. What may that be, Tilda? demanded Miss Squire's, screwing up her lips and looking as if nothing in earth, air, fire or water could afford her the slightest gleam of satisfaction. This, rejoined Miss Price. After we left here last night, John and I had a dreadful quarrel. That doesn't please me, said Miss Squire's, relaxing into a smile, though. Lord, I wouldn't think so bad of you as to suppose it did, rejoined her companion. That's not it. Oh, said Miss Squire's, relaxing into melancholy. Go on. After a great deal of wrangling and saying we would never see each other any more, continued Miss Price. We made it up, and this morning John went and wrote our names down to be put up for the first time next Sunday, so we shall be married in three weeks, and I give you notice to get your frock made. There was mingled gall and honey in this intelligence. The prospect of the friends being married so soon was the gall, and the certainty of her not entertaining serious designs upon Nicholas was the honey. Upon the whole the sweet greatly preponderated over the bitter, so Miss Squire said she would get the frock made and that she hoped Tilda might be happy, though at the same time she didn't know and would not have her billed too much upon it, for men were strange creatures, and a great many married women were very miserable, and wished themselves single again with all their hearts, to which condolences Miss Squire's had at others equally calculated to raise her friends' spirits and promote her cheerfulness of mind. But come now, Fanny, said Miss Price. I want to have a word or two with you about young Mr. Nicolby. He is nothing to me," interrupted Miss Squire's with hysterical symptoms. I despise him too much. Oh, you don't mean that, I'm sure," replied her friend. Confess, Fanny, don't you like him now? Without returning any direct reply Miss Squire's all at once fell into a paroxysm of spiteful tears, and exclaimed that she was a wretched, neglected, miserable castaway.  Dear, dear, said Miss Price, quite moved by this avowal of misanthropical sentiments. You're not serious, I am sure. Yes, I am," rejoined Miss Squire's, tying tight knots in her pocket handkerchief and clenching her teeth, and I wish I was dead too. There! Oh, you'll think very differently in another five minutes," said Matilda. How much better to take him into favour again, than to hurt yourself by going on in that way? Wouldn't it be much nicer now, to have him all to yourself on good terms, in a company-keeping, love-making, pleasant sort of manner? I don't know but what it would, sub-Miss Squire's. Oh, Tilda, how could you have acted so mean and dishonourable? I wouldn't have believed it of you if anybody had told me. Hey, dear, exclaimed Miss Price, giggling. One would suppose I had been murdering somebody at least. Very nigh as bad," said Miss Squire's passionately. And all this because I happen to have enough of good looks to make people civil to me, cried Miss Price. Persons don't make their own faces, and it's no more my fault if mine is a good one than it is other people's fault if theirs is a bad one. Hold your tongue, shrieked Miss Squire's, in her shrillest tone, or you'll make me slap you, Tilda, and afterwards I shall be sorry for it. It is needless to say that by this time the temper of each young lady was in some slight degree affected by the tone of her conversation, and that a dash of personality was infused into the altercation in consequence. Indeed, the quarrel from slight beginnings rose to a considerable height and was assuming a very violent complexion when both parties falling into a great passion of tears exclaimed simultaneously that they had never thought of being spoken to in that way, which exclamation, leading to a remonstrance, gradually brought on an explanation, and the upshot was that they fell into each other's arms and vowed eternal friendship, the occasion in question making the fifty-second time of repeating the same impressive ceremony within a twelve-month. Perfect amicability being thus restored, a dialogue naturally ensued upon the number and nature of the garments which would be indispensable for Miss Price's entrance into the holy state of matrimony, when Miss Squire's clearly showed that a great many more than the miller could or would afford were absolutely necessary, and could not decently be dispensed with. The young lady then, by an easy digression, led the discourse to her own wardrobe, and after recounting its principal beauties at some length, took her friend upstairs to make inspection thereof. The treasures of two drawers and a closet having been displayed, and all the smaller articles tried on. It was time for Miss Price to return home, and as she had been in raptures with all the frocks, and had been stricken quite dumb with admiration of a new pink scarf, Miss Squire said in high good humour that she would walk part of the way with her, for the pleasure of her company. And off they went together. Miss Squire's dilating as they walked along upon her father's accomplishments, and multiplying his income by ten, to give her friend some faint notion of the vast importance and superiority of her family. It happened that that particular time, comprising the short daily interval which was suffered to elapse between what was pleasantly called the dinner of Mr. Squire's pupils, and their return to the pursuit of useful knowledge, was precisely the hour when Nicholas was accustomed to issue forth for a melancholy walk, and to brood as he sauntered listlessly through the village upon his miserable lot. Miss Squire's knew this perfectly well, but had perhaps forgotten it, for when she caught sight of that young gentleman advancing towards them, she vince many symptoms of surprise and consternation, and assured her friend that she felt fit to drop into the earth. Shall we turn back, or run into a cottage?" asked Miss Price. He don't see us yet. No, Tilda, replied Miss Squire's, it's my duty to go through with it, and I will. As Miss Squire said this, in the tone of one who has made a high moral resolution, and was besides taken with one or two chokes and catchings of breath, indicative of feelings at a high pressure, her friend made no further remark, and they bore straight down upon Nicholas, who walking with his eyes bent upon the ground, was not aware of their approach until they were close upon him, otherwise he might perhaps have taken shelter himself. Good morning! said Nicholas, bowing and passing by. He's going, murmured Miss Squire's, I shall choke, Tilda! Come back, Mr. Nicolby, do! cried Miss Price, affecting alarm at her friend's threat, but really actuated by a malicious wish to hear what Nicholas would say. Come back, Mr. Nicolby. Mr. Nicolby came back, and looked as confused as might be, as he inquired whether the ladies had any commands for him. Don't stop to talk, urged Miss Price hastily, but support her on the other side. How do you feel now, dear? Better, sighed Miss Squire's, laying a beaver bonnet of a reddish brown with a green veil attached on Mr. Nicolby's shoulder. This foolish faintness. Don't call it foolish, dear, said Miss Price, her bright eye dancing with merriment as she saw the perplexity of Nicholas. You have no reason to be ashamed of it.   There he says it was not his fault, my dear," remarked the wicked Miss Price. Perhaps you were too jealous, or too hasty with him. He says it was not his fault. You hear, I think that's apology enough. You will not understand me, said Nicholas. Pray dispense with this jesting, for I have no time and really no inclination to be subject or promoter of mirth just now. What do you mean?" asked Miss Price, affecting amazement. Don't ask him, Tilda," cried Miss Squeers. I forgive him. Dear me, said Nicholas, as the brown bonnet went down on his shoulder again, this is more serious than I supposed. Allow me. Will you have the goodness to hear me speak?" Here he raised up the brown bonnet, and regarding with the most unfamed astonishment a look of tender reproach from Miss Squeers shrunk back a few paces to be out of the reach of the fair burden, and went on to say, I am very sorry, truly and sincerely sorry for having been the cause of any difference among you last night. I reproach myself most bitterly for having been so unfortunate as to cause the dissension that occurred, although I did so I assure you, most unwittingly and heedlessly. Well, that's not all you've got to say, surely," exclaimed Miss Price, as Nicholas paused. I fear there is something more, stammered Nicholas with a half smile, and looking toward Miss Squeers. It's the most awkward thing to say, but the very mention of such a supposition makes one look like a puppy. Still, may I ask if that lady supposes that I entertain any—in short, does she think that I am in love with her? Delightful embarrassment, thought Miss Squeers. I've brought him to it at last. Answer for me, dear," she whispered to her friend. Does she think so? Rejoined Miss Price. Of course she does. She does, exclaimed Nicholas with such energy of utterance as might have been for a moment mistaken for rapture. Certainly, replied Miss Price. If Mr. Nicolby has doubted that, Tilda, said the blushing Miss Squeers in soft accents, he may set his mind at rest. His sentiments are reciproc— Stop! cried Nicholas hurriedly. Pray hear me. This is the grossest and wildest delusion, the completest and most signal mistake that ever human being laboured under or committed. I have scarcely seen the young lady half a dozen times, but if I had seen her sixty times, or am destined to see her sixty thousand, it would be and will be precisely the same. I have not one thought, wish or hope connected with her, unless it be—and I say this not to hurt her feelings, but to impress her with the real state of my own—unless it be the one object dear to my heart as life itself, of being one day able to turn my back upon this accursed place, never to set foot in it again or think of it, even think of it, but with loathing and disgust. With this particularly plain and straightforward declaration, which he made with all the vehemence that his indignant and excited feelings could bring to bear upon it, Nicholas waiting to hear no more, retreated. But poor Miss Squeers, her anger, rage and vexation, the rapid succession of bitter and passionate feelings that whirl through her mind are not to be described, refused, refused by a teacher picked up by advertisement at an annual gallery of five pounds, payable at indefinite periods, and found in food and lodging like the very boys themselves. And this too, in the presence of a little chit of a miller's daughter of eighteen, who was going to be married in three weeks' time to a man who had gone down on his very knees to ask her, she could have choked in right good earnest at the thought of being so humbled. But there was one thing clear in the midst of her mortification, and that was that she hated and detested Nicholas with all the narrowness of mind and littleness of purpose, worthy a descendant of the House of Squeers. And there was one comfort too, and that was that every hour in every day she could wound his pride and goad him with the infliction of some slight or insult or deprivation, which would not but have some effect on the most insensible person, and must be acutely felt by one so sensitive as Nicholas. With these two reflections uppermost in her mind, Miss Squeers made the best of the matter to her friend by observing that Mr. Nickelby was such an odd creature, and of such a violent temper that she feared she should be obliged to give him up, and parted from her. And here it may be remarked that Miss Squeers, having bestowed her affections, or whatever it might be that in the absence of anything better represented them, on Nicholas Nickelby, had never once seriously contemplated the possibility of his being of a different opinion from herself in the business. Miss Squeers reasoned that she was prepossessing and beautiful, and that her father was master and Nicholas man, and that her father had saved money and Nicholas had none, all of which seemed to her conclusive arguments why the young man should feel only too much honoured by her preference. She had not failed to recollect either how much more agreeable she could render his situation if she were his friend, and how much more disagreeable if she were his enemy, and doubtless many less scrupulous young gentlemen than Nicholas would have encouraged her extravagance had it been only for this very obvious and intelligible reason. However, he had thought proper to do otherwise, and Miss Squeers was outrageous. Let him see, said the irritated young lady, when she had regained her own room, and eased her mind by committing an assault on Fib, if I don't set mother against him a little more when she comes back. It was scarcely necessary to do this, but Miss Squeers was as good as her word, and poor Nicholas, in addition to bad food, dirty lodging, and the being compelled to witness one dull, unvarying round of squalid misery, was treated with every special indignity that Malice could suggest, or the most grasping cupidity put upon him. Nor was this all. There was another and deeper system of annoyance which made his heart sink, and nearly drove him wild by its injustice and cruelty. The wretched creature Smyke, since the night Nicholas had spoken kindly to him in the schoolroom, had followed him to and fro with an ever-restless desire to serve or help him, anticipating such little wants as his humble ability could supply, and content only to be near him. He would sit beside him for hours, looking patiently into his face, and a word would brighten up his care-worn visage, and call into it a passing gleam even of happiness. He was an altered being. He had an object now, and that object was to show his attachment to the only person, that person a stranger, who had treated him not to say with kindness, but like a human creature. Upon this poor being all the spleen and ill-humour that could not be vented on Nicholas were unceasingly agreed. Drudgery would have been nothing, Smyke was well used to that. Buffettings inflicted without cause would have been equally a matter of course, for to them also he had served a long and weary apprenticeship. But it was no sooner observed that he had become attached to Nicholas than stripes and blows, stripes and blows, morning, noon, and night were his only portion. Spears was jealous of the influence which his man had so soon acquired, and his family hated him, and Smyke paid for both. Nicholas saw it, and ground his teeth at every repetition of the savage and cowardly attack. He had arranged a few regular lessons for the boys, and one night, as he paced up and down the dismal schoolroom, his swollen heart almost bursting to think that his protection and countenance should have increased the misery of the wretched being whose peculiar destitution had awakened his pity, he paused mechanically in a dark corner where sat the object of his thoughts. The poor soul was pouring hard over a tattered book, with the traces of recent tears still upon his face, vainly endeavouring to master some task which a child of nine years old, possessed of ordinary powers, could have conquered with ease, but which, to the old brain of the crushed boy of nineteen, was a sealed and hopeless mystery. Yet there he sat, patiently conning the page again and again, stimulated by no boyish ambition, for he was the common jest and scoff even of the uncouth objects that congregated about him, but inspired by the one eager desire to please his solitary friend. Nicholas laid his hand upon his shoulder. I can't do it," said the dejected creature, looking up with bitter disappointment in every feature. No, no. Do not try, replied Nicholas. The boy shook his head, and closing the book with a sigh, looked vacantly round and laid his head upon his arm. He was weeping. Do not, for God's sake, said Nicholas in an agitated voice, I cannot bear to see you. They are more hard with me than ever. Sobbed the boy. I know it, rejoined Nicholas. They are. But for you," said the outcast, I should die.  They would. I know they would. You will do better, poor fellow," replied Nicholas, shaking his head mournfully, when I am gone. Gone, cried the other, looking intently in his face. Softly rejoined Nicholas. Yes. Are you going? demanded the boy, in an earnest whisper. I cannot say, replied Nicholas. I was speaking more to my own thoughts than to you. Tell me," said the boy imploringly. Oh, do tell me. Will you go? Will you? I shall be driven to that, at last, said Nicholas. The world is before me after all. Tell me, urged Smike. Is the world as bad and dismal as this place? Heaven forbid," replied Nicholas, pursuing the train of his own thoughts. Its hardest course's toil were happiness to this. Should I ever meet you there? demanded the boy, speaking with unusual wildness and volubility. Yes, replied Nicholas, willing to soothe him. No, no," said the other, clasping him by the hand. Should I—should I—tell me that again? Say, I should be sure to find you." You would, replied Nicholas, with the same humane intention. And I would help and aid you, and not bring fresh sorrow on you as I've done here. The boy caught both the young man's hands passionately in his, and hugging them to his breast, uttered a few broken sounds which were unintelligible. Wears entered at the moment, and he shrunk back into his old corner. The cold, feeble dawn of a January morning was stealing in at the windows of the common sleeping-room, when Nicholas, raising himself on his arm, looked among the prostrate forms which on every side surrounded him, as though in search of some particular object. It needed a quick eye to detect from among the huddled mass of sleepers the form of any given individual. As they lay closely packed together, covered for warmth's sake with their patched and ragged clothes, little could be distinguished but the sharp outlines of pale faces, over which the somber light shed the same dull heavy colour. With, here and there, the gaunt arm thrust forth, its thinness hidden by no covering, but fully exposed to view, in all its shrunken, ogre-like, there were some who, lying on their backs with upturned faces and clenched hands, just visible in the leaden light, bore more the aspect of dead bodies than of living creatures, and there were others coiled up into strange and fantastic postures, such as might have been taken for the uneasy efforts of pain to gain some temporary relief, rather than the freaks of slumber. A few, and these were among the youngest of the children, slept peacefully on with smiles upon their faces, dreaming perhaps of home. But ever and again a deep and heavy sigh, breaking the stillness of the room, announced that some new sleeper had awakened to the misery of another day. And as morning took the place of night, the smiles gradually faded away, with the friendly darkness which had been cast away, dreams are the bright creatures of poem and legend, who sport on earth in the night season, and melt away in the first beam of the sun, which lights grim care and stern reality on their daily pilgrimage through the world. Nicholas looked upon the sleepers, at first with the air of one who gazes upon a scene which, though familiar to him, has lost none of its sorrowful effect in consequence. And afterwards, with the more intense and searching scrutiny, as a man would who missed something his eye was accustomed to meet, and had expected to rest upon. He was still occupied in this search, and had half risen from his bed in the eagerness of his quest, when the voice of squeers was heard, calling from the bottom of the stairs. Now, then, cried that gentleman, are you going to sleep all day up there? Your lazy hounds added to the sound of the door, are you going to sleep all day up there? Your lazy hounds added Mrs. Squeers, finishing the sentence, and producing at the same time a sharp sound, like that which is occasioned by the lacing of stays. We shall be down directly, sir, replied Nicholas. Down directly, said Squeers. Ah, you better be down directly, or I'll be down upon some of you in less. Where's that smike? Nicholas looked hurriedly round again, but made no answer. SMIKE! shouted Squeers. Do you want your head broke in a fresh place, SMIKE? demanded his amiable lady, in the same key. Still there was no reply, and still Nicholas stared about him, as did the greater part of the boys, who were by this time roused. Can found his impudence, muttered Squeers, wrapping the stair-rail impatiently with his cane. NICLEBY! Well, sir, send that obstinate scoundrel down. Don't you hear me calling? He's not here, sir, replied Nicholas. Don't tell me a lie, retorted the schoolmaster. He is. He is not, retorted Nicholas angrily. Don't tell me one. We shall soon see that, said Mr. Squeers, rushing upstairs. I'll find him, I warrant you. With which assurance Mr. Squeers bounced into the dormitory, and swinging his cane in the air ready for a blow, darted into the corner where the lean body of the judge was usually stretched at night. The cane descended harmlessly upon the ground. There was nobody there. What does this mean, said Squeers, turning round with a very pale face? Where have you hid him? I've seen nothing of him since last night, replied Nicholas. Come, said Squeers, evidently frightened, though he endeavoured to look otherwise. You won't save him this way. Where is he? At the bottom of the nearest pond, for ought I know, rejoined Nicholas in a low voice, and fixing his eyes full on the master's face.  Without waiting for a reply, he inquired of the boys whether any one among them knew anything of their missing schoolmate. There was a general hum of anxious denial, in the midst of which one shrill voice was heard to say, as indeed everybody thought, Please, sir, I think Smikes run away, sir. Huh! cried Squeers, turning sharp round. Who said that? Tomkins, please, sir, rejoined a chorus of voices. Mr. Squeers made a plunge into the crowd, and at one dive caught a very little boy, habited still in his night-gear, and the perplexed expression of whose countenance as he was brought forward seemed to intimate that he was as yet uncertain whether he was about to be punished or rewarded for the suggestion. He was not long in doubt.   And what, sir? said Squeers, catching the little boy suddenly by the arms and whisking up his drapery in the most dexterous manner. What reason have you to suppose that any boy would want to run away from this establishment? Eh, sir? The child raised a dismal cry by way of answer, and Mr. Squeers, throwing himself into a most favourable attitude for exercising his strength, beat him until the little urchin in his writhings actually rolled out of his hands, when he mercifully allowed him to roll away as best he could. There, said Squeers, now if any other boy thinks Smikes run away, I shall be glad to have a talk with him. There was, of course, a profound silence, during which Nicholas showed his disgust as plainly as looks could show it. Well, Nicolby, said Squeers, eyeing him maliciously. You think he's run away, I suppose? I think it extremely likely, replied Nicholas in a quiet manner.  I know nothing of the kind. He didn't tell you he was going, I suppose, did he, sneered Squeers. He did not, replied Nicholas. I am very glad he did not, for it would then have been my duty to have warned you in time. Which no doubt you would have been devilish sorry to do, said Squeers in a taunting fashion. I should indeed, replied Nicholas, you interpret my feelings with great accuracy. Mrs. Squeers had listened to this conversation from the bottom of the stairs, but now losing all patience she hastily assumed her night-jacket and made her way to the scene of action. What's all this air to do? said the lady, as the boys fell off right and left to save her the trouble of clearing a passage with her brawny arms. What on earth are you talking to him for, Squeery? Why, my dear, said Squeers, the fact is that Smike is not to be found. Well, I know that, said the lady, and where's the wonder? If you get a parcel of proud stomached teachers that set the young dogs a rebelling, what else can you look for?  Indeed, said Nicholas. Yes, and indeed, and indeed again, Mr. Jackenapes, said the excited lady, and I wouldn't keep such as you in the house another hour if I had my way. Nor would you if I had mine, replied Nicholas. Now, boys. And now, boys, said Mrs. Squeers, mimicking as nearly as she could the voice and manner of the usher. Follow your leader, boys, and take pattern by smike, if you dare. See what he'll get for himself when he's brought back a mind. I tell you that you shall have as bad and twice as bad of you, so much as open your mouths about him. If I catch him, said Squeers, I'll only stop short of flaying him alive. I'll give you notice, boys. If you catch him, retorted Mrs. Squeers, contemptuously, you're sure to—you can't help it if you go the right way to work. Come, away with you. With these words Mrs. Squeers dismissed the boys, and after a little light skirmishing with those in the rear who were pressing forward to get out of the way, but were detained for a few moments by the throng in front, succeeded in clearing the room, when she confronted her spouse alone. He's off, said Mrs. Squeers, the cowhouse and stabler locked up, so he can't be there, and he's not downstairs anywhere, for the girl has looked. He must have gone Yorkway, and by a public road, too. Why must he, in quiet Squeers? Stupid, said Mrs. Squeers angrily. He hadn't any money, had he? Never had a penny of his own in his old life that I know of, replied Squeers. To be sure, rejoined Mrs. Squeers, and he didn't take anything to eat with him. That I'll answer for, ha-ha-ha-ha. Loved Squeers. Then of course, said Mrs. S., he must beg his way, and he could do that nowhere but on the public road. That's true, exclaimed Squeers, clapping his hands. True, yes, but you would never have thought of it for all that if I hadn't said so, replied his wife. Now, if you take the chaise and go one road, and I borrow Swallows' chaise and go the other, What with keeping our eyes open and asking questions, one or other of us is pretty certain to lay hold of him. The worthy lady's plan was adopted and put in execution without a moment's delay. After a very hasty breakfast, and the prosecution of some inquiries in the village, the result of which seemed to show that he was on the right track, squeers started forth in the pony-chase, intent upon discovery and vengeance. The afterwards Mrs. Squeers, arrayed in the white topcoat and tied up in various shawls and handkerchiefs, issued forth in another chase and another direction, taking with her a good sized bludgeon, several odd pieces of strong cord, and a stout laboring man, all provided and carried upon the expedition with the sole object of assisting in the capture, and once caught, ensuring the safe custody of the unfortunate smike. Mrs. Squeers remained behind in a tumult of feeling, sensible that whatever might be the upshot of the boy's flight, nothing but painful and deplorable consequences were likely to ensue from it. Death, from want and exposure to the weather, was the best that could be expected from the protracted wandering of so poor and helpless a creature, alone and unfriended, through a country of which he was wholly ignorant. There was little perhaps to choose between this fate, and a return to the tender mercies of the Yorkshire school. But the unhappy being had established a hold upon his sympathy and compassion, which made his heart ache at the prospect of the suffering he was destined to undergo. He lingered on in a restless anxiety, picturing a thousand possibilities, until the evening of next day, when Squeers returned, alone and unsuccessful. No news of the scamp, said the schoolmaster, who had evidently been stretching his legs on the old principle not a few times during the journey. I'll have consolation for this out of somebody, Nicolby, if Mrs. Squeers don't hunt him down, so I give you warning. It is not in my power to console you, sir, said Nicolus, it is nothing to me. Isn't it, said Squeers, in a threatening manner, we shall see, we shall rejoin Nicolus. Here's the pony run right off his legs, and me obliged to come on with a hack-cob that will cost fifteen shillings, besides other expenses, said Squeers. Who's to pay for that, dear, here? Nicolus shrugged his shoulders and remained silent. I'll have it out of somebody, I tell you, said Squeers. His usual harsh, crafty manner changed to open bullying.  Come get out. Nicolus bit his lip and knit his hands involuntarily for his finger ends tingled to avenge the insult, but remembering that the man was drunk, and that it could come to little but a noisy brawl, he contented himself with darting a contemptuous look at the tyrant, and walked as majestically as he could upstairs. Not a little nettle, however, to observe that Miss Squeers and Master Squeers and the Servant Girl were enjoying the scene from a snug corner. The two former, indulging in many edifying remarks about the presumption of poor upstarts, which occasioned a vast deal of laughter, in which even the most miserable of all miserable Servant Girls joined. While Nicolus, stung to the quick, drew over his head such bed-clothes as he had, and sternly resolved that the outstanding account between himself and Mr. Squeers should be settled rather more speedily than the latter anticipated. The day came, and Nicolus was scarcely awake when he heard the wheels of a chase approaching the house. It stopped. The voice of Miss Squeers was heard, and in exultation, ordering a glass of spirits for somebody, which was in itself a sufficient sign that something extraordinary had happened. Nicolus hardly dared to look out of the window. But he did so, and the very first object that met his eyes was the wretched smike, so bedabbled with mud and rain, so haggard and worn and wild that, but for his garments being such as no scarecrow was ever seen to wear, he might have been doubtful even then of his identity. "'Lift him out,' said Squeers, after he had literally feasted his eyes in silence upon the culprit. "'Bring him in. Bring him in.' "'Take care,' cried Miss Squeers, as her husband proffered his assistance. We tied his legs under the apron and made him fast to the chase to prevent his giving us the slip again. With hands trembling with delight, Squeers unloosened the cord, and smite to all appearance more dead than alive was brought into the house and securely locked up in a cellar, until such time as Mr. Squeers should deem it expedient to operate upon him in presence of the assembled school. Upon a hasty consideration of the circumstances, it may be a matter of surprise to some persons that Mr. and Mrs. Squeers should have taken so much trouble to repossess themselves of an incumbrance of which it was their want to complain so loudly. But their surprise will cease when they are informed that the manifold services of the drudge, if performed by anybody else, would have cost the establishment some ten or twelve shillings per week in the shape of wagers, and furthermore that all runaways were, as a matter of policy, made severe examples of at do the boys' hall. In as much as, in consequence of the limited extent of its attractions, there was but little inducement beyond the powerful impulse of fear for any pupil provided with the usual number of legs and the power of using them to remain. The news that Smyke had been caught and brought back in triumph ran like wildfire through the hungry community, and expectation was on Tiptoe all the morning. On Tiptoe it was destined to remain, however, until afternoon, when Squeers, having refreshed himself with his dinner, and further strengthened himself by an extra libation or so, made his appearance accompanied by his amiable partner, with the countenance of portentous import, and a fearful instrument of flagellation, strong, supple, wax-ended, and new, in short purchased that morning expressly for the occasion. "'Is every boy here?' asked Squeers, in a tremendous voice. Every boy was there, but every boy was afraid to speak, so Squeers glared along the lines to assure himself, and every eye drooped and every head cowered down as he did so. "'Each boy keep his place,' said Squeers, administering his favourite blow to the desk, and regarding with gloomy satisfaction the universal start which it never failed to occasion. "'Nickelby, to your desk, sir!' It was remarked by more than one small observer, that there was a very curious and unusual expression in the usher's face, but he took his seat without opening his lips in reply. Squeers casting a triumphant glance at his assistant, and a look of most comprehensive despotism on the boys, left the room, and shortly afterwards returned, dragging smike by the collar, or rather by that fragment of his jacket which was nearest the place where his collar would have been had he boasted such a decoration. In any other place, the appearance of the wretched, jaded, spiritless object would have occasioned a murmur of compassion and remonstrance. It had some effect even there, for the lookers on moved uneasily in their seats, and a few of the boldest ventured to steal looks at each other, expressive of indignation and pity. They were lost on Squeers, however, whose gaze was fastened on the luckless smike, as he inquired according to custom in such cases whether he had anything to say for himself. "'Nothing, I suppose,' said Squeers, with a diabolical grin. Squeak glanced round, and his eye rested for an instant on Nicholas, as if he had expected him to intercede. But his look was riveted on his desk. "'Have you anything to say?' demanded Squeers again, giving his right arm two or three flourishes, to try its power and suppleness. "'Stand a little out of the way, Mrs. Squeers, my dear. I've hardly got room enough.' "'Spare me, sir,' cried Smike. "'Oh, that's all, is it?' said Squeers.  "'That's a good'n.' "'I was driven to do it,' said Smike faintly, and casting another imploring look about him. "'Driven to do it, were you?' said Squeers. "'Oh, it wasn't your fault. It was mine, I suppose, eh?' "'A nasty, ungrateful, pig-edded, brutish, obstinate, sneak-in dog!' exclaimed Mrs. Squeers, taking Smike's head under her arm and administering a cuff with every epithet. What does he mean by that?' "'Stand aside, my dear,' replied Squeers. "'We'll try and find out.' Mrs. Squeers, being out of breath with her exertions, complied. Squeers caught the boy firmly in his grip. One desperate cut had fallen on his body. He was wincing from the lash, and uttering a scream of pain. It was raised again, and again about to fall, when Nicholas Nickelby, suddenly starting up, cried, "'Stop!' in a voice that made the rafters ring. "'Who cried, stop!' said Squeers, turning savagely round. "'I,' said Nicholas, stepping forward, "'this must not go on.' "'Must not go on!' cried Squeers, almost in a shriek. "'No!' thundered Nicholas. Aghast and stupefied by the boldness of the interference, Squeers released his hold on Fsmike, and, falling back a pace or two, gazed upon Nicholas with looks that were positively frightful. "'I say must not,' repeated Nicholas, nothing daunted. "'Shall not. "'I will prevent it.'"  But astonishment had actually for the moment bereft him of speech. "'You have disregarded all my quiet interference in the miserable lad's behalf,' said Nicholas. "'You have returned no answer to the letter in which I begged forgiveness for him, and offered to be responsible that he would remain quietly here. Don't blame me for this public interference. You have brought it upon yourself, not I.' "'Sit down, beggar!' screamed Squeers, almost beside himself with rage, and seizing Smyke as he spoke. "'Wretch!' rejoined Nicholas fiercely. "'Touch him at your peril. "'I will not stand by and see it done. My blood is up, and I have the strength of ten such men as you. Look to yourself for by heaven.  "'I have a long series of insults to avenge,' said Nicholas, flushed with passion, and my indignation is aggravated by the dastardly cruelty practised on helpless infancy in this foul den. Have a care, for if you do raise the devil within me, the consequences shall fall heavily upon your own head.' He had scarcely spoken when Squeers, in a violent outbreak of wrath, and with a cry like the howl of a wild beast, spat upon him, and struck him a blow across the face with his instrument of torture, which raised up a bar of livid flesh as it was inflicted, smarting with the agony of the blow, and concentrating into that one moment all his feelings of rage, scorn, and indignation, Nicholas sprang upon him, rested the weapon from his hand, and pinning him by the throat, beat the ruffian till he roared for mercy. The boys, with the exception of Master Squeers, who, coming to his father's assistance, harassed the enemy in the rear, moved not hand or foot. But Mrs. Squeers, with many shrieks for aid, hung on to the tail of her partner's coat and endeavoured to drag him from his infuriated adversary, while Miss Squeers, who had been peeping through the keyhole in expectation of a very different scene, darted in at the very beginning of the attack, and after launching a shower of ink-stands at the Usher's head, beat Nicholas to her heart's content, animating herself at every blow with the recollection of his having refused her proffered love, and thus imparting additional strength to an arm which, as she took after her mother in this respect, was at no time one of the weakest. Nicholas, in the full torrent of his violence, felt the blows no more than if they had been dealt with feathers. But becoming tired of the noise and uproar, and feeling that his arm grew weak besides, he threw all his remaining strength into half a dozen finishing cuts, and flung Squeers from him with all the force he could muster. The violence of his fall precipitated Mrs. Squeers completely over an adjacent form, and Squeers striking his head against it in his dissent, lay at his full length on the ground, stunned and motionless. Having brought affairs to this happy termination, and ascertained to his thorough satisfaction that Squeers was only stunned and not dead, upon which point he had had some unpleasant doubts at first, Nicholas left his family to restore him, and retired to consider what course he had better adopt. He looked anxiously round for Smyke as he left the room, but he was nowhere to be seen. After a brief consideration, he packed up a few clothes in a small leaven valise, and, finding that nobody offered to oppose his progress, marched boldly out by the front door, and shortly afterwards struck into the road which led to Greta Bridge. When he had cooled sufficiently to be enabled to give his present circumstances some little reflection, they did not appear in a very encouraging light. He had only four shillings and a few pence in his pocket, and was something more than two hundred and fifty miles from London, wither he resolved to direct his steps, that he might ascertain among other things what account of the morning's proceedings Mr. Squeers transmitted to his most affectionate uncle. Lifting up his eyes, as he arrived at the conclusion that there was no remedy for this unfortunate state of things, he beheld a horseman coming towards him, whom on nearer approach he discovered to his infinite chagrin to be no other than Mr. John Browdy, who clad in cords and leather leggings, was urging his animal forward by means of a thick ash stick, which seemed to have been recently cut from some stout sapling. I am in no mood for more noise and riot, thought Nicholas, and yet do what I will, and shall have an altercation with this honest blockhead, and perhaps a blow or two from yonder staff. In truth there appeared some reason to expect that such a result would follow from the encounter, for John Browdy no sooner saw Nicholas advancing than he reigned in his horse by the footpath, and waited until such time as he should come up, looking meanwhile very sternly between the horse's ears at Nicholas, as he came on at his leisure. "'Servant young gentleman,' said John. "'Yours,' said Nicholas. "'Well, we have met at last,' observed John, making the stidip ring under a smart touch of the ash stick.' "'Yes,' replied Nicholas, hesitating. "'Come,' he said frankly, after a moment's pause. "'We parted on no very good terms the last time we met. It was my fault, I believe, but I had no intention of offending you, and no idea that I was doing so. I was very sorry for it afterwards. Will you shake hands?' "'Shake on's,' cried the good-humoured Yorkshireman. "'Ah, that I will!' At the same time he bent down from the saddle, and gave Nicholas's fist a huge wrench. "'But what bit matter with you, fierce-man? It be all broken like!' "'It is a cut,' said Nicholas, turning scarlet as he spoke. A blow! But I returned it to the giver, and with good interest, too. "'No! Did he, though?' exclaimed John Browdy. "'Well done! I liken for that!' The fact is,' said Nicholas, not very well knowing how to make the avowal. "'The fact is that I have been ill-treated.' "'No!' interposed John Browdy in a tone of compassion. But it was a giant in strength and stature, and Nicholas very likely in his eyes seemed to me a dwarf. "'Don't say that!' "'Yes, I have,' replied Nicholas, by that man's squeers, and I've beaten him soundly, and I'm leaving this place in consequence.' "'What!' cried John Browdy, with such an ecstatic shout, that the horse quite shied at it. "'Beaten the school-master!' "'Oh! Beaten the school-master! Whoever heard of the like of that, no. Whoever's the and again, youngster? Beaten the school-master! Dang it! I'm lovely for it!' With these expressions of delight, John Browdy laughed and laughed again so loud that the echoes far and wide sent back nothing but jovial peals of merriment, and shook Nicholas by the hand, meanwhile no less heartily. When his mirth had subsided, he inquired what Nicholas meant to do. On his informing him to go straight to London, he shook his head doubtfully, and inquired if he knew how much the coaches charged to carry passengers so far. "'No, I do not,' said Nicholas, but it is of no great consequence to me, for I intend walking.' "'Gang a word all on and a foot!' cried John in amazement. "'Every step of the way,' replied Nicholas. "'I shall be many steps further on by this time. And so good-bye.' "'Nay, no!' replied the honest countryman, reigning in his impatient horse. "'Stand still, Telly. How much cash has there you gotten?' "'Not much,' said Nicholas, colouring. "'But I can make it enough. Where there's a will, there's a way, you know.' John Browdy made no verbal answer to this remark. But putting his hand in his pocket pulled out an old purse of solid leather, and insisted that Nicholas should borrow from him whatever he required for his present necessities. "'Don't be afraid, Mont,' he said, "'Pick enough to carry the oom. "'Thou pay me, anday, I warrant.'" Nicholas could by no means be prevailed upon to borrow more than a sovereign, with which loan Mr. Browdy, after many entreaties that he would accept of more, observing with a touch of Yorkshire caution that if he didn't spend it all he could put the surplus by, till he had an opportunity of remitting it, carriage-free, was feigned to content himself. "'Tack that bit of timber to help the on-way,' Mont,' he added, pressing his stick on Nicholas, and giving his hand another squeeze. "'Keep a good heart, and bless thee.' "'Beaten the school-master! God, it's the best thing I've heard this twenty year!' So saying, and indulging with more delicacy than might have been expected from him, in another series of loud laughs, for the purpose of avoiding the thanks which Nicholas poured forth, John Browdy set spurs to his horse and went off at a smart canter, looking back from time to time as Nicholas stood gazing after him, and waving his hand cheerily, as if to encourage him on his way. Nicholas watched the horse and rider until they disappeared over the brow of a distant hill, and then set forward on his journey. He did not travel far that afternoon, for by this time it was nearly dark, and there had been a heavy fall of snow, which not only rendered the way toilsome, but the track uncertain and difficult to find after daylight, saved by experienced wavefarers. He lay that night at a cottage, where beds were let at a cheap rate to the more humble class of travellers, and rising betimes next morning made his way before night to Burrbridge. Passing through that town in search of some cheap resting place, he stumbled upon an empty barn within a couple of hundred yards of the roadside, in a warm corner of which he stretched his weary limbs, and soon fell asleep. When he awoke next morning, and tried to recollect his dreams, which had been all connected with his recent sojourn at Dozer Boy's Hall, he sat up, rubbed his eyes and stared, and not with the most composed countenance possible, at some motionless object which seemed to be stationed within a few yards in front of him. Strange, cried Nicholas. Can this be some lingering creation of the visions that have scarcely left me? It cannot be real, and yet I am awake. Smike, the form moved, rose, advanced, and dropped upon its knees at his feet. It was Smike, indeed.  Let me, or do let me. You are my home, my kind friend.  I am a friend who can do little for you, said Nicholas kindly. How came you here? He had followed him, it seemed, had never lost sight of him all the way, had watched while he slept, and when he halted for refreshment, and had feared to appear before lest he should be sent back. He had not intended to appear now, but Nicholas had awakened more suddenly than he looked for, and he had had no time to conceal himself. Poor fellow, said Nicholas, your hard fate denies you any friend but one, and he is nearly as poor and helpless as yourself. May I go with you, asked Smike, timidly. I will be your faithful, hard-working servant. I will, indeed. I want no clothes, added the poor creature, drawing his rags together. These will do very well. I only want to be near you. And you shall, cried Nicholas. And the world shall deal by you, as it does by me, till one or both of us shall quit it for a better. Come! With these words he strapped his burden on his shoulders, and taking his stick in one hand, extended the other to his delight at charge, and so they passed out of the old barn together. End of chapter 13. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Czech Chris London UK Nicholas Nicolby By Charles Dickens Chapter 14. Having the misfortune to treat of none but common people is necessarily of a mean and vulgar character. In that quarter of London in which Golden Square is situated, there is a bygone, faded, tumble-down street, with two irregular rows of tall meagre houses, which seem to have stared each other out of countenance years ago. The very chimneys appear to have grown dismal and melancholy, from having had nothing better to look at than the chimneys over the way. Their tops are battered and broken and blackened with smoke, and here and there some taller stack than the rest, inclining heavily to one side and toppling over the roof, seems to mediate taking revenge for half a century's neglect by crushing the inhabitants of the garret's beneath.  Dingy, ill-pluned, drowsy flutterers, sent, like many of the neighbouring children, to get a livelihood in the streets, they hop from stone to stone in forlorn search of some hidden eatable in the mud, and can scarcely raise a crow among them. The only one with anything approaching to a voice is an aged bantam at the baker's, and even he is hoarse in consequence of bad living in his last place. To judge from the size of the houses, they have been at one time tenanted by persons of better condition than their present occupants, but they are now let off by the week in floors or rooms, and every door has almost as many plates or bell-handles as there are apartments within. The windows are, for the same reason, sufficiently diversified in appearance, being ornamented with every variety of common blind and curtain that can easily be imagined, while every doorway is blocked up and rendered nearly impassable by a motley collection of children and porta-pots of all sizes, from the baby-in-arms and the half-pint pot to the full-grown girl and half-gallon cam. In the parlour of one of these houses, which was perhaps a thought dirtier than any of its neighbours, which exhibited more bell-handles, children and porta-pots, and caught in all its freshness the first gust of the thick black smoke that poured forth night and day from a large brewery hard by, hung a bill, announcing that there was yet one room to let within its walls, though on what storey the vacant room could be, regard being had to the outward tokens of many lodgers which the whole front displayed, from the mangle in the kitchen window to the flower-pots on the parapet, it would have been beyond the power of a calculating boy to discover. The common stairs of this mansion were bare and carpetless, but a curious visitor who had to climb his way to the top might have observed that there were not wanting indications of the progressive poverty of the inmates, although their rooms were shut. Thus the first floor lodgers, being flush of furniture, kept an old mahogany table, real mahogany, on the landing-place outside, which was only taken in when occasion required. On the second storey, the spare furniture dwindled down to a couple of old deal-chairs, of which one belonging to the back room was shorn of a leg and bottomless. The storey above boasted no greater excess than a wormeat and wash-tube, and the garret landing-place displayed no costlier articles than two crippled pictures, and some broken blacking-bottles. It was on this garret landing-place that a hard-featured square-faced man, elderly and shabby, stopped to unlock the door of the front attic, into which, having surmounted the task of turning the rusty key in its still more rusty wards, he walked with the air of legal owner.  Having adopted in its place a dirty cotton nightcap, and groped about in the dark till he found a remnant of candle, he knocked at the partition which divided the two garrets, and inquired in a loud voice whether Mr. Noggs had a light. The sounds that came back were stifled by the lat and plaster, and it seemed moreover as though the speaker had uttered them from the interior of a mug or other drinking-vessel. But they were in the voice of Newman, and conveyed a reply in the affirmative. A nasty night, Mr. Noggs, said the man in the nightcap, stepping into light his candle. Does it rain? asked Newman. Does it? replied the other pettishly. I'm wet through. It doesn't take much to wet you and me through, Mr. Crowell, said Newman, laying his hand upon the lapel of his threadbare coat. Well, and that makes it more vexatious, observed Mr. Crowell in the same pettish tone. Uttering a low quarrelous growl, the speaker whose harsh countenance was the very epitome of selfishness, raped the scanty fire nearly out of the grate, and emptying the glass which Noggs had pushed towards him, inquired where he kept his coals. Newman Noggs pointed to the bottom of a cupboard, and Mr. Crowell seizing the shovel, threw on half the stock, which Noggs very deliberately took off again without saying a word. You've not turned saving at this time a day, I hope? said Crowell. Newman pointed to the empty glass as though it were a sufficient refutation of the charge, and briefly said that he was going downstairs to supper. To the Kenwigs's, asked Crowell, Newman nodded ascent. Think of that now, said Crowell. If I didn't, thinking that you were certain not to go, because you said you wouldn't, tell Kenwigs I couldn't come, and make up my mind to spend the evening with you. I was obliged to go, said Newman. They would have me. Well, but what's to become of me? urged the selfish man, who never thought of anybody else. It's all your fault. I'll tell you what.  Newman cast a despairing glance at his small store of fuel, but not having the courage to say no, a word which in all his life he never had said at the right time, either to himself or anyone else, gave way to the proposed arrangement. Mr. Crowell immediately went about making himself as comfortable with Newman-Noggs's means as circumstances would admit of his being made. The lodgers to whom Crowell had made illusion under the designation of the Kenwigs's, were the wife and olive branches of one Mr. Kenwigs, a turner in Ivory, who was looked upon as a person of some consideration on the premises, in as much as he occupied the whole of the first floor, comprising a suite of two rooms. Mrs. Kenwigs, too, was quite a lady in her manners, and of a very genteel family, having an uncle who collected a water-rate. Besides which distinction, the two eldest of her little girls went twice a week to a dancing school in the neighbourhood, and had flaxen hair tied with blue ribbons hanging in luxuriant pigtails down their backs, and wore little white trousers with frills round the ankles. For all of which reasons, and many more equally valid but too numerous to mention, Mrs. Kenwigs was considered a very desirable person to know, and was the constant theme of all the gossips in the street, and even three or four doors round the corner at both ends. It was the anniversary of that happy day on which the Church of England, as by law established, had bestowed Mrs. Kenwigs upon Mr. Kenwigs. And in grateful commemoration of the same, Mrs. Kenwigs had invited a few select friends to cards and a supper in the first floor, and had put on a new gown to receive them in. Which gown, being of a flaming colour, and made upon a juvenile principle, was so successful that Mr. Kenwigs said the eight years of matrimony and the five children seemed all a dream, and Mrs. Kenwigs younger and more blooming than on the very first Sunday he had kept company with her. Beautiful as Mrs. Kenwigs looked when she was dressed, though, and so stately that she would have supposed she had a cook and housemaid at least, and nothing to do but order them about. She had a world of trouble with the preparations. More indeed than she, being of a delicate and genteel constitution, could have sustained, had not the pride of housewifery upheld her. At last, however, all the things that had to be got together were got together, and all the things that had to be got out of the way were got out of the way, and everything was ready, and the collector himself, having promised to come, fortune smiled upon the occasion. The party was admirably selected. There were, first of all, Mr. Kenwigs and Mrs. Kenwigs, and four Olive Kenwigsers who sat up to supper, firstly because it was but right that they should have a treat on such a day, and secondly, because they are going to bed in presence of the company would have been inconvenient, not to say improper. Then there was a young lady who had made Mrs. Kenwigs's dress, and who, it was the most convenient thing in the world, living in the two-pair back, gave up her bed to the baby, and got a little girl to watch it. Then to match this young lady was a young man who had known Mr. Kenwigs when he was a bachelor, and was much esteemed by the ladies as bearing the reputation of a rake. To these were added a newly married couple who had visited Mr. Mrs. Kenwigs in their courtship, and a sister of Mrs. Kenwigsers who was quite a beauty, besides whom there was another young man supposed to entertain honourable designs upon the lady last mentioned, and Mr. Noggs, who was a genteel person to ask, because he had been a gentleman once. There were also an elderly lady from the back parlor, and one more young lady, who, next to the collector, perhaps was the great lion of the party, being the daughter of a theatrical fireman, who went on in the pantomime, and had the greatest turn for the stage that was ever known, being able to sing and recite, in a manner that brought the tears into Mrs. Kenwigs's eyes. There was only one drawback upon the pleasure of seeing such friends, and that was that the lady in the back parlor, who was very fat and turned of sixty, came in a low book-muslin dress and short kid gloves, which so exasperated Mrs. Kenwigs, that that lady assured her visitors in private, that if it hadn't happened that the supper was cooking at the back parlor great at that moment, she certainly would have requested its representative to withdraw. My dear, said Mr. Kenwigs, wouldn't it be better to begin a round game? Kenwigs, my dear, returned his wife. I'm surprised at you. Would you begin without my uncle? I forgot the collector, said Kenwigs. Oh no, that would never do. He's so particular, said Mrs. Kenwigs, turning to the other married lady, that if we began without him, I shall be out of his will, for ever. Dear, cried the married lady, you've no idea what he is, replied Mrs. Kenwigs, and yet as good a creature as ever breathed. The kindest-hearted man as ever was, said Kenwigs. It goes to his heart, I believe, to be forced to cut the water off, when the people don't pay. Observed the bachelor friend, intending a joke. George, said Mr. Kenwigs solemnly. None of that, if you please. It was only my joke, said the friend, abashed. George rejoined Mr. Kenwigs. A joke is a very good thing. A very good thing. But when that joke is made at the expense of Mrs. Kenwigs's feelings, I set my face against it. A man in public life expects to be sneered at. It is the fault of his elevated situation, and not of himself. Mrs. Kenwigs's relation is a public man, and that he knows, George, and that he can bear. But putting Mrs. Kenwigs out of the question, if I could put Mrs. Kenwigs out of the question on such an occasion as this, I have the honour to be connected with the collector by marriage, and I cannot allow these remarks in my— Mr. Kenwigs was going to say, house. But he rounded the sentence with, Apartments. At the conclusion of these observations, which drew forth evidences of acute feeling from Mrs. Kenwigs, and had the intended effect of impressing the company with a deep sense of the collector's dignity, a ring was heard at the bell. That's him! whispered Mr. Kenwigs, greatly excited.  Let's be talking. Adopting Mr. Kenwigs's suggestion, the company spoke very loudly, to look easy and unembarrassed. And almost as soon as they had begun to do so, a short old gentleman in drabs and gaiters, with a face that might have been carved out of lignum vitae, for anything that appeared to the contrary, was led playfully in by Miss Moline Kenwigs. Regarding whose uncommon Christian name, it may be here remarked that it had been invented and composed by Mrs. Kenwigs, previous to her first lying in, for the special distinction of her eldest child, in case it should prove a daughter. Oh, uncle, I am so glad to see you, said Mrs. Kenwigs, kissing the collector affectionately on both cheeks, so glad. Many happy returns of the day, my dear, replied the collector, returning the compliment. Now, this was an interesting thing. Here was a collector of water-rates, without his book, without his pen and ink, without his double knock, without his intimidation, kissing, actually kissing, an agreeable female, and leaving taxes, summonses, notices that he had called, or announcements that he would never call again for two quarters due, wholly out of the question. It was pleasant to see how the company looked on, quite absorbed in the sight, and to behold the nods and winks with which they expressed their gratification at finding so much humanity in a tax-gatherer. Where will you sit, uncle, said Mrs. Kenwigs, in the full glow of family pride, which the appearance of her distinguished relation occasioned? Any words, my dear, said the collector? I'm not particular. Not particular? What a meek collector! If he had been an author who knew his place, he couldn't have been more humble. Mr. Lilivick, said Kenwigs, addressing the collector, some friends here, sir, are very anxious for the honor of, thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Cutler, Mr. Lilivick. Proud to know you, sir, said Mr. Cutler. I've heard of you very often. These were not mere words of ceremony, for Mr. Cutler, having kept house in Mr. Lilivick's parish, had heard of him very often indeed. His attention in calling had been quite extraordinary. George, you know, I think, Mr. Lilivick, said Kenwigs, lady from downstairs, Mr. Lilivick, Mr. Snukes, Mr. Lilivick, Miss Green, Mr. Lilivick, Mr. Lilivick, Miss Patauker, of the Theatre Royal Drury Lane, very glad to make two public characters acquainted. Mrs. Kenwigs, my dear, will you sort the counters? Mrs. Kenwigs, with the assistance of Newman-Noggs, who, as he performed sundry little acts of kindness for the children, at all times and seasons, was humored in his request to be taken no notice of, and was merely spoken about in a whisper as the decayed gentleman, did as he was desired, and the greater part of the guests sat down to speculation, while Newman himself, and Mrs. Kenwigs, and Miss Patauker of the Theatre Royal Drury Lane, looked after the supper table. While the ladies were thus busying themselves, Mr. Lilivick was intent upon the game in progress, and as all should be fish that comes to a water-collector's net, the dear old gentleman was by no means scrupulous in appropriating to himself the property of his neighbours, which, on the contrary, he abstracted whenever an opportunity presented itself, smiling good-humidly all the while, and making so many condescending speeches to the owners that they were delighted with his amiability, and thought in their hearts that he deserved to be Chancellor of the Exchequer at least. After a great deal of trouble, and the administration of many slaps on the head to the infant Kenwigs's, whereof two of the most rebellious were summarily banished, the cloth was laid with much elegance, and a pair of boiled fowls, a large piece of pork, apple pie, potatoes, and greens were served, at sight of which the worthy Mr. Lilivick invented a great many witticisms, and plucked up amazingly to the immense delight and satisfaction of the whole body of admirers. Very well, and very fast, the supper went off. No more serious difficulties occurring than those which arose from the incessant demand for clean knives and forks, which made poor Mrs. Kenwigs wish, more than once, that private society adopted the principle of schools, and required that every guest should bring his own knife, fork, and spoon, which doubtless will be a great accommodation in many cases, and to no one more so than to the lady and gentleman of the house, especially if the school principle were carried out to the full extent, and the articles were expected as a matter of delicacy, not to be taken away again. Everybody having eaten everything, the table was cleared in the most alarming hurry and with great noise, and the spirits, where at the eyes of Newman Noggs glistened, being arranged in order, with water both hot and cold, the party composed themselves for conviviality. Mr.  An arrangement which was no sooner perfected, the Mrs. Kenwigs was overpowered by the feelings of a mother, and fell upon the left shoulder of Mr. Kenwigs, dissolved in tears. They are so beautiful, said Mrs. Kenwigs sobbing. Oh dear, said all the ladies, so they are. It's very natural you should feel proud of that, but don't give way, don't. I cannot help it, and it don't signify, sub-Mrs. Kenwigs, oh, they're too beautiful to live, much too beautiful. On hearing this alarming presentiment of their being doomed to an early death in the flower of their infancy, all four little girls raised a hideous cry, and burying their heads in their mother's lap simultaneously, screamed until the eight flaxen tails vibrated again. Mrs. Kenwigs, meanwhile, clasping them alternately to her bosom, with attitudes expressive of distraction, which Ms. Patauke herself might have copied. At length the anxious mother permitted herself to be soothed into a more tranquil state, and the little Kenwigs's, being also composed, were distributed among the company to prevent the possibility of Mrs. Kenwigs being again overcome by the blaze of their combined beauty. This done, the ladies and gentlemen united in prophesying that they would live for many, many years, and that there was no occasion at all for Mrs. Kenwigs to distress herself, which, in good truth, there did not appear to be, the loveliness of the children by no means justifying her apprehensions. This day, eight years, said Mr. Kenwigs after a pause, dear me, ha! This reflection was echoed by all present, who said, first, and dear me, afterwards. I was younger, then, titted Mrs. Kenwigs. No, said the collector. Certainly not, added everybody. I remember my niece, said Mr. Lilivick, surveying his audience with a grave hair. I remember her on that very afternoon, when she first acknowledged to her mother a partiality for Kenwigs. Mother, she says, I love him. Adore him, I said, uncle, in to pose Mrs. Kenwigs. Love him, I think, my dear, said the collector, firmly. Perhaps you're right, uncle, replied Mrs. Kenwigs submissively. I thought it was Adore. Love, my dear, retorted Mr. Lilivick. Mother, she says, I love him. What do I hear? cries her mother, and instantly falls into stronken waltzions. A general exclamation of astonishment burst from the company. In to stronken waltzions, repeated Mr. Lilivick, regarding them with a rigid look. Kenwigs will excuse my saying, in the presence of friends, that there was a very great objection to him, on the ground that he was beneath the family, and would disgrace it. You remember Kenwigs? Certainly, replied that gentleman, in no way displeased at the reminisce, in as much as it proved beyond all doubt what a high family Mrs. Kenwigs came of. I shared in that feeling, said Mr. Lilivick. Perhaps it was natural? Perhaps it wasn't. A general murmur seemed to say that, in one of Mr. Lilivick's station, the objection was not only natural, but highly praiseworthy. I came round to him in time, said Mr. Lilivick. After they were married, and there was no help for it, I was one of the first to say that Kenwigs must be taken notice of. The family did take notice of him in consequence, and on my representation, and I am bound to say, and proud to say, that I have always found him a very honest, well-behaved, upright, respectable sort of man. Kenwigs, shake hands. I am proud to do it, sir, said Mr. Kenwigs. So am I, Kenwigs, rejoined Mr. Lilivick. A very happy life I've led with your niece, sir, said Kenwigs. It would have been your own fault if you had not, sir, remarked Mr. Lilivick. Maulina Kenwigs cried her mother at this crisis much affected. Kiss your dear uncle. The young lady did as she was requested, and the three other little girls were successively hoisted up to the collector's countenance, and subjected to the same process, which was afterwards repeated on them by the majority of those present. Oh, dear, Mrs. Kenwigs, said Miss Patauke, while Mr. Noggs is making that punch to drink happy returns in, do let Maulina go through that figure dance before Mr. Lilivick. No, no, my dear, replied Mrs. Kenwigs. It will only worry my uncle. It can't worry him, I'm sure, said Miss Patauke. You will be very much pleased, won't you, sir? That I'm sure I shall, replied the collector, glancing at the punch-mixer. Well then, I'll tell you what, said Mrs. Kenwigs. Maulina shall do the steps, if uncle can persuade Miss Patauke to recite as the blood-drinker's burial afterwards. There was a great clapping of hands and stamping of feet at this proposition, the subject, whereof, gently inclined her head several times in acknowledgement of the reception. You know, said Miss Patauke reproachfully, that I dislike doing anything professional in private parties. Oh, but not here, said Mrs. Kenwigs. We're also very friendly and pleasant, that you might as well be going through it in your own room. Besides the occasion. I can't resist that, interrupted Miss Patauke, anything in my humble power I shall be delighted to do. Mrs. Kenwigs and Miss Patauke had arranged a small programme of the entertainments between them, of which this was the prescribed order. But they had settled to have a little pressing on both sides, because it looked more natural. The company being all ready, Miss Patauke hummed a tune, a more leaner dance to dance, having previously had the soles of her shoes chalked, with as much care as if she were going on the tightrope. It was a very beautiful figure, comprising a great deal of work for the arms, and was received with unbounded applause. If I was blessed with a—a child, said Miss Patauke blushing, of such genius as that, I would have her out of the opera instantly. Mrs. Kenwigs sighed and looked at Mr. Kenwigs, who shook his head and observed that he was doubtful about it. Kenwigs is afraid, said Mrs. Kaye. What of? inquired Miss Patauke, not of her failing. Oh, no! replied Mrs. Kenwigs. But if she grew up what she is now, only think of the young dukes and marquisers. Very right! said the collector. Still, submitted Miss Patauke, if she took a proper pride in herself, you know. There's a good deal in that, observed Mrs. Kenwigs, looking at her husband. I only know, faulted Miss Patauke, it may be no rule to be sure, but I have never found any inconvenience or unpleasantness of that sort. Mr. Kenwigs, with becoming gallantry, said that settled the question at once, and that he would take the subject into his serious consideration. This being resolved upon, Miss Patauke was entreated to begin the blood-drinker's burial. To which end, that young lady let down her back hair, and taking up her position at the other end of the room, with the bachelor friend posted in a corner, to rush out at the queue, in death expire, and catch her in his arms when she died, raving mad, went through the performance with extra ordinary spirit, and to the great terror of the little Kenwigsers, who were all but frightened into fits. The ecstasy's consequent upon the effort had not yet subsided. A newman, who had not been thoroughly sober at so late an hour for a long, long time, had not yet been able to put in a word of announcement that the punch was ready, when a hasty knock was heard at the room door, which elicited a shriek from Mrs. Kenwigs, who immediately divined that the baby had fallen out of bed. "'Who is that?' demanded Mr. Kenwigs sharply. "'Don't be alarmed, it's only me,' set Kroll, looking in, in his nightcap. The baby is very comfortable for a peeped into the room, as I came down, and it's fast asleep, and so is the girl, and I don't think the candle will set fire to the bed-curtain, unless a draught was to get into the room. It's Mr. Nogs that's wanted.' "'Me?' cried Newman, much astonished. "'Why, it is a queer hour, isn't it?' replied Kroll, who was not best pleased at the prospect of losing his fire. And they are queer-looking people, too, all covered with rain and mud. Shall I tell them to go away?' "'No,' said Newman, rising. "'People?' "'How many?' "'Two,' rejoined Kroll. "'Want me by name?' asked Newman. "'By name!' replied Kroll. "'Mr. Newman, Nogs, as patters need be.' Newman reflected for a few seconds, and then hurried away, muttering that he would be back directly. He was as good as his word. For in an exceedingly short time he burst into the room, and, seizing without a word of apology or explanation, a lighted candle and tumbler of hot punch from the table, darted away like a madman. "'What the deuce is the matter with him?' exclaimed Kroll, throwing the door open. "'Hark! Is there any noise above?' The guests rose in great confusion, and looking in each other's faces with much perplexity and some fear, stretched their necks forward and listened attentively.


The legendary First Army honors four great American legends. Destiny set them on course for legendary status as they led First Army soldiers in World Wars I and II. But before they became American legends, they were West Point cadets. And by the way, these guys were on the football team. Feeling lucky, Navy? On behalf of all of us at First United States Army, Rock Island Arsenal, Illinois. Go Army! Be Navy!


Well, a very good afternoon to you and it's time for Gospotrens and even before I start, na joa leo pa leko social media to na ulyza, what would you like to tell your mother? Nami mi na takatu kwa mbia mama yangu yani, she's a superwoman, she's a great lady, she's an amazing woman, raising three kids by yourself is not a joke, so I love you so much mum, happy, happy, happy, happy mother's day.  Ukiyenda hanga. She don't know that he accepts. Kenyansa say, ame kubali. Ko ibi oni hi? Hei. Kenyansa say, na kwa sanga kaziya kudu. Wa mo we have too much internet. But one thing I can tell you guys, waiting is not easy. Siku mo ya kuja kama umewa ringa upa tu. Ibi tu. Wane, uskiya tu bilet na kama. Next Sunday, I'll be doing that. Congratzitapu, ja apa. Anyway, moving on to the next story. We would like to send our congratulatory messages to gospel artist Moji Shotbaba. So Moji Shotbaba and his long time girlfriend, ana ito aniawera gashugi. Wa li fanya Harusi last weekend. And it was a private ceremony. These two got engaged early February. But they've been together for a very long time. Iwi uwezi ona moji kwa seniawera. Iwi wana kuwa angahivi upa moja. So they got engaged in February. And they got married the other weekend. So iya Harusi ili kwa private sana. Ina ndo sijui kuna nom iya artists, ama public figures kufanya Harusi, privately alafu sasa, watu anapenda takula kama kina dijeniku, watu anaju wa badai. So sijui ni kwanini watu, ni mnuna ni neza kwa rizu neza kwanini. Mafansu wa taku ja wengi. Mafansu wa neza ja. Mi disclaimer kwanza. Harusi angi taku ani. Siku gani. Very soon, wona stadium. Kasaranya manyao stadium, uko. Ama ili kwa uko jogo rune itu aje. Uko nuna. Iya moji ili kwa private sana. Una tumio location. Bade time unafika programimera kisha. Isha isha. Harusi maisha isha. Do you get crashes? Kama uko nampango. But congrats to them manze. Wacha zifani keivi yo sabu pia. As much as manze COVID, pia na punguza ni ni. Badjet paale. Ina cherimita badjet. Zai watu onaji tete sana na COVID. So DJ Nix, tafadali umetweka sana, please. Chesa kama wewe. Moji. Moji ame kwa mua jam. So chesa kama wewe. Munguata chesa kama wewe. And on to the last story. This is good news. Very great news. I'm sure Miriam Masawa tafuraia isana. So saizit utamuita gospel artist, but she was a secular artist and ito chidima. So has finally given her life to Jesus. Na ame decide him ziki ake vlemi kwa kifanya. So she will be doing gospel music. And actually sai ako veri veri veri veri veri. Ia ni ako veri serious anase. Mamukimuita tafadali kwa dina ake palembele mnongiza minister chidima. So amumuiti jitu vilali kwa na ito aki. Aki fanya gospel music. Which is a good thing. Chidima actually in the year 2016 something close to this happened pia. So ali na palekwa social media kanza kongia kusu Jesus ni ni ni ni kiboduori astu na tujiwa kama kawida. So tu kanza kusema ame ako kaka but that was not it. But this time round ni serious. Ni serious to an extent that she had a birthday and this birthday ali fanya fellowship. Balea kuru shabash Ali fanya fellowship. They prayed. They worshipped. They thanked God for adding her another year. So Miriam Masava. Najiwa kukwanzu na kwa iya. Everyone's version is predestined. And once you get born again you become a koher with Christ. So when a Christ na pase mozaap God akita Christ my child. We are also my child. Kupiwa zile ma spiritual blessings wa tenizap. Ha pase mozaap. Na the good thing about that najiwa umpaka every element in you ame everything that God and Papas wa totoakendi wana wuna akuwanza wana kuangapivi wuku wuna. So mi Mr. Chidi ma Gracia God ani sabuna teme na God apevi Gracia God pro everything that she needs through this new journey God at a kuwa there to work it. And to top actually sosa ni kimali the good news is the record label eni na kuangeme sign Masichino wa memchu kuwa and they have decided to work with her through this journey. Sosa mi yo nishanzaku akawa kenya Kolabo Kolabo ya Minister Chidi ma na Na DJ Nix Na Abana na Masichino mazi. Okay, Masichino. And all Nigerians female artists DJ Nix. DJ Nix come here but they will do a kolabo the good thing me e? Sunona izi.


So my book is Love and Condition Yellow, and it's a story of an unlikely marriage. A few years back, it might have been called a red state, blue state marriage. Now you might think of it as a pro-healthcare, anti-healthcare marriage. But it is, in any case, particularly unlikely in the political climate we have today in this country. I was a political activist in college. I'm on the right side. I'm protesting everything from apartheid to the nuclear arms race to our intervention in Central America. While my husband went to West Point, became an army airborne ranger, and invaded Grenada. I realized our story was a fun, quirky way to examine divisions in marriage and in America while also telling a love story. In Love and Condition Yellow, I come to my most radical position yet that intimacy can actually be independent of outward similarity or agreement. Here we are. I am getting arrested, and here he is training with the Oakland SWAT team. Most people don't have differences that vast in their marriage, but everyone has some differences. My hope is that our story will not only be entertaining, but also will provide ideas and tools and hope for transforming differences of many kinds in our marriages and our other relationships, and maybe even in the political arena. So I will read a short scene from the second chapter of my book called Reconnaissance, the second chapter. And in it, we are on our second date taking our dogs for a walk at the Berkeley marina. We choose the path toward the methane vent, a concrete tube surrounded by chain link, which sits incongruously amidst the rolling green of Cesar Chavez Park. It is dark now and foggy. I remarked to Barrett that there is something poetic about this place, that on the weekends, everything from stunt kites to massive dragons to the simple diamonds of little kids will dance together above the old dump. He says, huh, I try a different tack and tell them of my ski weekend. There was new snow, and my friend Mark and I spied the ski patrol, making their way up to the top of a closed area. We joined a group of skiers racing to be the first behind them. Because I was lighter than Mark and the other skiers, all male, I was able to stay higher on the new snow and pass them up. When the patrol turned the sign and opened the slope, I was their first, whooping with the powder billowing up around my legs and even kissing my back under my parka. I swooped and glided down, queen of the moment. When I finish relating the story, I am grinning, full of the freedom and triumph of that run. Barrett says, I think you're the cockiest girl I've ever met. For some reason, this makes me very happy. Perhaps he understands bravado. I laugh and say to him, so do you ski? Haven't been up much in the last few years. I don't get that much time off with the SWAT team and pulling a lot of overtime. But what do you do for fun? Do you bike, hike, rollerblade? Rollerblade, he guffaws. Ah, no. Don't rollerblade. Don't wear spandex either. That's for guys with beards. We can see the lights of the Albany racetrack in the great distance. And as we turn the corner, the wind rolling in under the Golden Gate hits us hard and we have to lean into it and raise our voices. Barrett pulls a wool watch cap out of his pocket and tugs it on his head. I guess mostly I work. I was a salesman for a couple of years after getting out of the Army. And man, I just hated it. I worked real hard, but the sucking up to people, the schmoozing, the lack of real mission, real camaraderie, it just felt like I was slowly drinking pure acid every day. Drip, drip, drip, acid.  Oh yeah, definitely. I like being outside. I love to drive. I love the rush of chasing turds.  I do it for free. I am examining Barrett's words and phrases like they're puzzle pieces. I hope that if I can arrange them the right way, they might form a picture I can understand. But turds? I feel a weight in my gut. This is what I was afraid of finding in Barrett. Going along with something like that is like giving tacit approval. Then I chide myself. Come on, this is just a lark. We don't have to agree. We walk a while in silence. Finally I murmur, so you call them turds? What? Turds. You call the people you arrest turds, didn't you? Oh well, no, not exactly, did I say turds? I should have said suspects. Mostly, that's usually what we call them. Mostly we say suspects. I don't believe him and I guess it shows in my face because he flashes me a guilty grin. Except the really bad ones. Okay, yes, some of the really bad ones we call turds. How do you know they're really bad?  Or you see them all the time over and over again. I just don't like the idea of calling human beings turds. But come on, some people are just evil, aren't they? They're just bad. They really are. Like the guy that kidnapped Polly Class, he's a turd, no doubt about it. Jesus, a little girl, that guy needs to go. And he makes a quick ringing motion with his hands. Something in my chest tightens and I wrap my arms around himself. Barrett says, do you know a cop stopped that guy? When he had her in the car, he stopped the guy and he didn't savor. Jesus, I don't ever wanna make a mistake like that. I could never live with myself. He really is noble in a way I think. He wants to help people, especially those that are vulnerable. He wants to protect them. From harm, I can barely even contemplate. I am fascinated to walk next to him knowing that he travels in and out of the world of my nightmares. To me, Barrett is one of a monolithic block of impassive guys with bristly mustaches and mirrored sunglasses that I generally try to avoid. I can imagine him in his uniform looking tough and scary, but now I see him in his plaid royal robin shirt, his wrangler jeans, looking at me with eyes that crinkle at the corners when he smiles. And I feel like I have slipped between the cracks of a concrete wall and found a lush, secret world.


Ever dreamed of owning a house in the beautiful country of Albania without breaking the bank? Well, you're in for a treat. Albania, a hidden gem in the Balkans, offers unique opportunities in the real estate market. Known for its affordability, the country also boasts breathtaking landscapes that would make any homeowner proud. Plus, investing here could potentially yield significant benefits. So, get ready as we embark on a journey to discover the 10 cheapest places to buy a house in Albania. First stop, Vlor, a coastal city with a rich history, nestled on the Adriatic Seas shores, this Albanian gem is a treasure trove of affordability.  Vlor is more than just an affordable real estate market. It's a city where the sun kisses beautiful beaches, where the azure sea dances with the golden sands. It's a place where culture and history intertwine with ancient ruins whispering tales of bygone eras and vibrant museums showcasing the country's rich heritage. As the sun dips below the horizon, Vlor comes alive with a nightlife that's as energetic as it is diverse. From cozy taverns serving local delicacies to trendy nightclubs pulsating with rhythm, there's something for every nocturnal adventurer, Vlor, where history meets affordability. It's a city that offers more than just a home, but a lifestyle that's rich in experiences and light on the wallet. Next, we journey to Škodr, the cultural heart of Albania. This city is a melting pot of rich history and vibrant artistry, where the average property price will leave you pleasantly surprised. Imagine owning a place amidst the charm of the old town, where every cobblestone street tells a tale from the past. Škodr is a city that lives and breathes culture. It houses some of the country's most prestigious art galleries, and its theater scene is second to none. Here you'll find the grandeur of ancient architecture blending seamlessly with the creativity of modern art installations. The city's old town, with its quaint shops and traditional eateries, is a delightful labyrinth of history waiting to be explored. And the best part? All this could be on your doorstep for less than you might think. From the mosaic of historical landmarks to the thriving artistic community, Škodr offers an enriching lifestyle that's light on the wallet. Škodr, a budget-friendly cultural paradise. Now let's ascend to Kuks, nestled in the Albanian Alps. Here in Kuks, the average property prices are as inviting as the striking mountainous landscapes that surround the city. Imagine owning a house with a panoramic view of snow-capped peaks, verdant valleys, and crystal-clear lakes. It's not just a dream, but a reality that can be yours for a price that's surprisingly affordable. But Kuks is not just about the views. It's an outdoor enthusiast's paradise, offering activities from hiking and mountain biking to fishing and bird watching. And when you want to slow down, the city's serene environment allows you to relax and rejuvenate amidst nature. The city's charm extends beyond its natural beauty. The locals, with their warm hospitality and vibrant culture, add to Kuks' appeal, making it a place not just to invest in, but to live and experience. Kuks, where nature and affordability blend, prepare to be charmed by Sarand, a gem in the south of Albania. This coastal city, nestled on the edge of the Ionian Sea, is known for its affordability. A typical property in Sarande can be yours for less than the price of a small city car, but the allure of Sarande extends far beyond its reasonable real estate prices. Imagine living a stone's throw away from some of the most stunning beaches in the Balkans, where the Cerulean Sea kisses the golden sand. Picture yourself indulging in traditional Albanian cuisine, a delightful culinary journey through the flavors of the Mediterranean. And let's not forget the climate. Sarande is blessed with a warm Mediterranean climate, offering over 300 sunny days a year. It's the kind of weather that makes every day feel like a summer holiday. So, if you're looking for an affordable home in a beautiful sunny locale, look no further. Sarande, a pocket-friendly piece of paradise. Our journey doesn't end here. There are more affordable gems to discover in Albania. Let's shift our focus to Duris, a vibrant city with a rich history stretching back to ancient times. Known for its Roman amphitheater, sandy beaches, and bustling port, Duris offers a unique blend of modern and ancient living. Property prices here are surprisingly affordable, averaging around 100,000 euros for a city center apartment. Moving inland, we find Elbasan, a city encased by mountains. Elbasan's charm lies in its medieval architecture, beautiful parks, and the famous Elbasan castle. The city's average property prices are significantly lower than Duris, making it an attractive option for budget-conscious buyers. Next, we move to the northern city of Lege. Known for its historic sites such as the Lege Castle and the Memorial of Skanderbeg, Lege offers a serene lifestyle away from the hustle and bustle of the major cities. The property prices here are competitive, making it a worthy consideration for those seeking affordability. Our journey continues to Barat, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, often referred to as the City of a Thousand Windows. This city is a treasure trove of historical architecture, with property prices that will leave you pleasantly surprised. Finally, we arrive at Girokastur, another UNESCO World Heritage Site. This city is a living museum, with stone roofed houses that appear to cascade down the hillside. Despite its historical significance, property prices in Girokastur remain some of the most affordable in the country. These cities are proof that affordable doesn't mean less charming. Each brings its unique allure, offering a taste of Albania's rich history and culture, all while keeping your budget in check. So if you're considering a property investment in Europe, don't overlook the hidden gems of Albania. With a little exploration, you might just find your dream home nestled in one of these affordable yet charming cities. Now that you've discovered these affordable treasures, you might wonder, how do I buy a house in Albania? Well, the process is quite straightforward, but there are some important steps you need to keep in mind. First off, you need to find a property that fits your needs and budget. You can do this by researching online, working with a real estate agent, or even taking a trip to Albania to explore different areas and properties. Remember to consider factors like location, size, and local amenities to ensure the property suits your lifestyle. Once you've found the perfect place, it's time to navigate the legal requirements. Foreigners have the right to buy property in Albania, but there are some restrictions. For instance, agricultural land can only be purchased by Albanian citizens or companies. However, residential and commercial properties are generally open to foreign buyers. You'll need to hire a local lawyer to help with the buying process. They'll ensure all legal procedures are adhered to and the property is free from any liens or encumbrances. Your lawyer will draft a preliminary contract which outlines the terms and conditions of the sale. Next, you'll need to pay a deposit, usually 10% of the purchase price. This secures the property while the remaining legal checks are carried out. Once everything is in order, the final contract is signed in the presence of a notary. The notary will verify the identities of both parties, ensure the contract is fair and legal, and register the sale with the Albanian office of the public registry. The remaining payment is then made, and the property is officially yours. Keep in mind there are additional costs to consider, including legal fees, notary fees, and property transfer tax, which is usually around 3% of the property value. And that's it. The process might seem daunting at first, but with careful planning and the right support, it can be a smooth journey. With the right information, your dream of owning a house in Albania is within reach. And that brings us to the end of our journey through Albania's affordable property market. We've explored the coastal beauty of Vlor, the cultural richness of Škoda, the mountainous allure of Kukes, the southern charm of Sarande, and several other noteworthy destinations. Each offers unique opportunities for property investment, all within an accessible price range.  Don't forget to subscribe to the European Hub YouTube channel for more insights on European real estate. Until next time, happy house hunting.