education.

'Speculate with it,' said Mrs Nickleby.

'Spec--u--late, my dear?' said Mr Nickleby, as though in doubt.

'Why not?' asked Mrs Nickleby.

'Because, my dear, if we SHOULD lose it,' rejoined Mr Nickleby, who
was a slow and time-taking speaker, 'if we SHOULD lose it, we shall no
longer be able to live, my dear.'

'Fiddle,' said Mrs Nickleby.

'I am not altogether sure of that, my dear,' said Mr Nickleby.

'There's Nicholas,' pursued the lady, 'quite a young man--it's time he
was in the way of doing something for himself; and Kate too, poor girl,
without a penny in the world. Think of your brother! Would he be what he
is, if he hadn't speculated?'

'That's true,' replied Mr Nickleby. 'Very good, my dear. Yes. I WILL
speculate, my dear.'

Speculation is a round game; the players see little or nothing of their
cards at first starting; gains MAY be great--and so may losses. The run
of luck went against Mr Nickleby. A mania prevailed, a bubble burst,
four stock-brokers took villa residences at Florence, four hundred
nobodies were ruined, and among them Mr Nickleby.