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there were laughing boys, singing boys, talking boys, dancing boys, howling boys; boys shuffled with their feet, boys whirled about him, grinning, making faces, mimicking him behind his back and before his eyes; mimicking his poverty, his boots, his coat, his mother, everything belonging to him that they should have had consideration for. ¡¡¡¡'Silence!' cried Mr. Mell, suddenly rising up, and striking his desk with the book. 'What does this mean! It's impossible to bear it. It's maddening. How can you do it to me, boys?' ¡¡¡¡It was my book that he struck his desk with; and as I stood beside him, following his eye as it glanced round the room, I saw the boys all stop, some suddenly surprised, some half afraid, and some sorry perhaps. ¡¡¡¡Steerforth's place was at the bottom
oil painting
of the school, at the opposite end of the long room. He was lounging with his back against the wall, and his hands in his pockets, and looked at Mr. Mell with his mouth shut up as if he were whistling, when Mr. Mell looked at him. ¡¡¡¡'Silence, Mr. Steerforth!' said Mr. Mell. ¡¡¡¡'Silence yourself,' said Steerforth, turning red. 'Whom are you talking to?' ¡¡¡¡'Sit down,' said Mr. Mell. ¡¡¡¡'Sit down yourself,' said Steerforth, 'and mind your business.' ¡¡¡¡There was a titter, and some applause; but Mr. Mell was so white, that silence immediately succeeded; and one boy, who had darted out behind him to imitate his mother again, changed his mind, and pretended to want a pen mended.