DAVID COPPERFIELD
Transcription
DAVID COPPERFIELD
ELECBOOK CLASSICS DAVID COPPERFIELD Charles Dickens ELECBOOK CLASSICS ebc0004. Charles Dickens: David Copperfield This file is free for individual use only. It must not be altered or resold. Organisations wishing to use it must first obtain a licence. Low cost licenses are available. Contact us through our web site © The Electric Book Co 1998 The Electric Book Company Ltd 20 Cambridge Drive, London SE12 8AJ, UK +44 (0)181 488 3872 www.elecbook.com DAVID COPPERFIELD THE PERSONAL HISTORY AND EXPERIENCE OF DAVID COPPERFIELD THE YOUNGER CHARLES DICKENS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED TO THE HON. Mr. AND Mrs RICHARD WATSON, OF ROCKINGHAM, NORTHAMPTONSHIRE. David Copperfield 4 Contents Ck on number to go to Chapter Chapter 1. I AM BORN.......................................................................10 Chapter 2. I OBSERVE ......................................................................26 Chapter 3. I HAVE A CHANGE ........................................................46 Chapter 4. I FALL INTO DISGRACE..............................................67 Chapter 5. I AM SENT AWAY FROM HOME................................93 Chapter 6. I ENLARGE MY CIRCLE OF AQUAINTANCE ..............................................................................118 Chapter 7. MY ‘FIRST HALF’ AT SALEM HOUSE ...................128 Chapter 8. MY HOLIDAYS. ESPECIALLY ONE HAPPY AFTERNOON ......................................................................152 Chapter 9. I HAVE A MEMORABLE BIRTHDAY ......................173 Chapter 10. I BECOME NEGLECTED, AND AM PROVIDED FOR ................................................................................189 Chapter 11. I BEGIN LIFE ON MY OWN ACOUNT, AND DON’T LIKE IT.........................................................................216 Chapter 12. LIKING LIFE ON MY OWN AOUNT NO BETTER, I FORM A GREAT RESOLUTION ........................238 Chapter 13. THE SEQUEL OF MY RESOLUTION ....................251 Chapter 14. MY AUNT MAKES UP HER MIND ABOUT ME..........................................................................................278 Chapter 15. I MAKE ANOTHER BEGINNING ...........................300 Chapter 16. I AM A NEW BOY IN MORE SENSES Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 5 THAN ONE..........................................................................................313 Chapter 17. SOMEBODY TURNS UP...........................................342 Chapter 18. A RETROSPECT .........................................................366 Chapter 19. I LOOK ABOUT ME, AND MAKE A DISCOVERY .......................................................................................376 Chapter 20. STEERFORTH’S HOME ...........................................399 Chapter 21. LITTLE EM’LY............................................................411 Chapter 22. SOME OLD SCENES, AND SOME NEW PEOPLE...............................................................................................438 Chapter 23. I CORROBORATE MR. DICK, AND CHOOSE A PROFESSION...............................................................468 Chapter 24. MY FIRST DISSIPATION .........................................488 Chapter 25. GOOD AND BAD ANGELS .......................................500 Chapter 26. I FALL INTO CAPTIVITY.........................................527 Chapter 27. TOMMY TRADDLES .................................................548 Chapter 28. Mr. MICAWBER’S GAUNTLET ...............................561 Chapter 29. I VISIT STEERFORTH AT HIS HOME, AGAIN ..................................................................................................588 Chapter 30. A LOSS..........................................................................598 Chapter 31. A GREATER LOSS .....................................................609 Chapter 32. THE BEGINNING OF A LONG JOURNEY............................................................................................622 Chapter 33. BLISSFUL....................................................................647 Chapter 34. MY AUNT ASTONISHES ME ..................................670 Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 6 Chapter 35. DEPRESSION..............................................................682 Chapter 36. ENTHUSIASM.............................................................710 Chapter 37. A LITTLE COLD WATER .........................................733 Chapter 38. A DISSOLUTION OF PARTNERSHIP...................744 Chapter 39. WICKFIELD AND HEEP...........................................767 Chapter 40. THE WANDERER.......................................................793 Chapter 41. DORA’S AUNTS ..........................................................805 Chapter 42. MISCHIEF....................................................................827 Chapter 43. ANOTHER RETROSPECT .......................................854 Chapter 44. OUR HOUSEKEEPING .............................................865 Chapter 45. Mr. DICK FULFILS MY AUNT’S PREDICTIONS ...................................................................................886 Chapter 46. INTELLIGENCE .........................................................907 Chapter 47. MARTHA ......................................................................926 Chapter 48. DOMESTIC...................................................................941 Chapter 49. I AM INVOLVED IN MYSTERY ..............................956 Chapter 50. Mr. PEGGOTTY’S DREAM COMES TRUE ....................................................................................................973 Chapter 51. THE BEGINNING OF A LONGER JOURNEY............................................................................................987 Chapter 52. I ASSIST AT AN EXPLOSION...............................1010 Chapter 53. ANOTHER RETROSPECT .....................................1042 Chapter 54. Mr. MICAWBER’S TRANSACTIONS ...................1049 Chapter 55. TEMPEST...................................................................1070 Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 7 Chapter 56. THE NEW WOUND, AND THE OLD ....................1086 Chapter 57. THE EMIGRANTS....................................................1095 Chapter 58. ABSENCE...................................................................1110 Chapter 59. RETURN.....................................................................1119 Chapter 60. AGNES ........................................................................1141 Chapter 61. I AM SHOWN TWO INTERESTING PENITENTS .....................................................................................1153 Chapter 62. A LIGHT SHINES ON MY WAY ............................1170 Chapter 63. A VISITOR..................................................................1182 Chapter 64. A LAST RETROSPECT ...........................................1193 Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 8 PREFACE TO 1850 EDITION do not fid it easy to get sufficiently far away fro this Bok, in th first sensations of having finished it, to refer to it wth th composure which this formal headig would se to require My interest in it, is so recent and strong; and my mind is s divided between pleasure and regret—plasure i th acevemet of a lg degn, regret in the sparation from many cpan—that I am i danger of wearying the reader whom I love, with persal confidences, and private emtions. Besides which, all that I could say of th Story, to any purpo, I have endeavoured to say in it. It would coern the reader lttle, perhaps, to know, how sorrofully th pen is laid dow at th cl of a tw-years’ imagiative task; or ho an Authr fes as if he were dismsing some portion of himself into th shadowy world, w a crod of the creature of his brai are gog from him for ever. Yet, I have nothing el to tell; unless, indeed, I were to confe (wich might be of less moment still) that no on can ever believe this Narrative, in th reading, more than I have believed it in th writing. Intead of lookig back, therefore, I will lok forward. I cannot cose this Volum mre agreeably to mysf, than with a hopeful glan towards the tim when I shal again put forth my two gree leave once a month, and with a faithful remembrance of th geal sun and showers that have falen on the laves of David Cpperfield, and made me happy. Londo, October, 1850. I Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 9 PREFACE TO THE CHARLES DICKENS EDITION I rearked in the origial Prefac to th Book, that I did not find it easy to get sufficiently far away fro it, in th first sensation of having finished it, to refer to it wth th mposure which this formal heading would see to require My interest in it was so recent and strong, and my md was so divided between plasure and regret—plasure in th acevemet of a lg degn, regret in the sparation from many companions—that I was in danger of wearying th reader wth persal confidences and private emtions. Besides which, all that I could have said of th Story to any purpose, I had endeavoured to say in it. It would coern the reader little, perhaps, to know how sorrofully th pen is laid dow at th cl of a tw-years’ imagiative task; or ho an Authr fes as if he were dismsing some portion of himself into th shadowy world, w a crod of the creature of hi brai are gog from him for ever. Yet, I had nothing el to tell; unless, indeed, I were to confe (wich might be of less moment still), that no on can ever believe this Narrative, in the readig, mre than I beved it in the writig. So true are the avowal at the present day, that I can no nly take th reader into on confidence more Of all my books, I like th th best. It will be easily believed that I am a fod parent to every chd of my fany, and that n one can ever love that family as dearly as I love th But, like many fond parents, I have in my heart of hearts a favourite chid. And hi name is DAVID 1869 COPPERFIELD. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 10 Chapter 1 I AM BORN W hether I sal turn out to be the hero of my own life, or wthr that station wi be hed by anybody el, th pages must show. To begin my life with the beginnig of my lfe, I recrd that I was born (as I have be informed and believe) o a Friday, at twve o’clock at night. It was remarked that the clock began to strike, and I began to cry, siultaneusly. In coderati of the day and hour of my birth, it was deared by the nurse, and by so sage wo i th ghbourhood who had take a lvely interest in m sveral month before thre was any possibility of our beming personally acquaited, first, that I was detid to be unlucky in life; and secondly, that I was privileged to se ghts and spirits; both thes gifts invitably attacg, as they beved, to al unlucky infants of eithr gender, born toards th sall hurs o a Friday night. I nd say nthing here, on the first head, beause nothing can sho better than my history whthr that prediction was verifid or falsified by th result. On th send branch of th queti, I wll only reark, that unles I ran through that part of my inheritance while I was still a baby, I have not come into it yet. But I do not at al coplai of having be kept out of this property; and if anybody el should be in th pret ejoymt of it, h is heartiy wee to keep it. I was born with a caul, which was advertised for sale, i th Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 11 nespapers, at th low price of fiften guineas. Whthr sea-going peopl were short of moy about that tim, or were short of faith and preferred cork jackets, I don’t kn; all I know is, that thre was but one solitary biddig, and that was from an attorney connected with th bill-broking busine, w offered tw pounds i cas, and the balane in sherry, but deed to be guaranteed fro droning o any highr bargain. Consequently th advertisement was withdrawn at a dead loss—for as to sherry, my poor dear mother’s own sherry was i the market then—and te years afterwards, th caul was put up in a raffle dow in our part of the country, to fifty mbers at half-a-crown a head, the winr to spend five shillings. I was pret myself, and I remember to ave felt quite unmfortabl and confusd, at a part of myself beg diposed of in that way. The caul was won, I rect, by an old lady with a hand-basket, who, very reluctantly, produced from it th stipulated five shillings, all in halfpence, and twpe halfpey short—as it took an ime tim and a great waste of arithtic, to endeavour withut any effect to prove to her. It is a fact wh wi be log rebered as rearkabl do there, that she was never drod, but died triumphantly in bed, at nnety-two. I have understood that it was, to the last, her proudet boast, that sh nver had be on the water i her lfe, excpt upon a bridge; and that over her tea (to w se was extremely partial) she, to th last, expressed her indignation at th impiety of marinrs and others, who had the presumpti to go ‘meandering’ about the world. It was i vai to repret to her that s nveiences, tea perhaps included, resulted fro this objectionabl practice. She alays returnd, with greater ephasis and with an instinctive knledge of th strength of her Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 12 objection, ‘Let us have no meanderig.’ Not to meander mysf, at pret, I wi go back to my birth. I was born at Blundersto, in Suffolk, or ‘thre by’, as they say in Sctland. I was a posthumous chid. My fathr’s eye had closd upon the light of this world sx moths, when mi oped o it. There is sothing strange to me, eve now, i the refletio that h never saw me; and something stranger yet in th shadoy remembran that I have of my first childish assocations wth h te grave-stone in the churcyard, and of the indefinabl mpassion I usd to fe for it lying out al thre in th dark nght, when our little parlour was warm and bright with fire and candl, and the doors of our house were—alost cruely, it sed to me sometimes—bolted and locked against it. An aunt of my fathr’s, and consequently a great-aunt of mine, of w I shall have more to relate by and by, was th principal magnate of our family. Mi Trotwd, or Miss Betsy, as my poor mther alays caled her, when she suffictly overcam her dread of this formidable persage to mention her at all (wich was sedom), had be married to a husband younger than hersef, who was very hands, except in the see of the homely adage, ‘hands is, that handsome doe’—for he was strongly suspected of having beaten Mis Betsey, and even of having onc, on a disputed queti of supplies, made some hasty but determd arrangemets to throw her out of a two pair of stairs’ window. Th evidences of an inmpatibiity of temper iduced Mi Betsey to pay him off, and effect a separatio by mutual cot. He went to India with his capital, and there, accrdig to a wild legend in our family, he was oce see riding o an ephant, i pany with a Baboon; but I think it must have been a Baboo— Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 13 or a Begum. Anyhow, from India tidigs of hi death reached home, with te years How they affected my aunt, nobody knew; for imdiately upo the separation, she took her maide nam again, bought a cottage in a hamlet on th sea-coast a long way off, establd herself there as a sgle woan with one srvant, and was understod to live secluded, ever afterwards, in an inflxibl retiremt. My father had onc been a favourite of hers, I beeve; but s was mortaly affronted by his marriage, on the ground that my mothr was ‘a wax dol’. She had never see my mothr, but she kn her to be nt yet twenty. My father and Mis Betsey never met again. He was double my mothr’s age wh he marrid, and of but a deate cotitution. He did a year afterwards, and, as I have said, six month before I came into the world. This was the state of matters, on the afternoon of, what I may be excused for calling, that evetful and important Friday. I can ake n caim therefore to have known, at that tim, how matters stood; or to have any remebrane, founded on the evide of my own senses, of what follows. My mother was sitting by the fire, but poorly i health, and very low in spirits, lookig at it through her tears, and despondig heaviy about herself and the fatherl little stranger, who was already welcomd by some grosses of prophtic pi, in a drawer upstairs, to a wrld nt at al excted on the subject of his arrival; my mother, I say, was sitting by the fire, that bright, windy March aftern, very timid and sad, and very doubtful of ever coming alve out of the trial that was before her, when, lifting her eye as e drid them, to the widow oppote, se saw a strange lady cg up the garde Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 14 My mther had a sure forebodig at the send glanc, that it was Mis Betsey. The setting sun was glowing on the strange lady, over the garden-fenc, and se cam walkig up to the door with a fel rigidity of figure and coposure of cuntenan that culd have belonged to nobody el When se reached the house, se gave another proof of her idetity. My father had often hinted that sh sdom cducted hrsf like any ordinary Christian; and now, instead of ringing th be, she came and looked in at that idential wido, presing th d of her no against the glas to that extent, that my poor dear mothr usd to say it became perfetly flat and white in a moment. Sh gave my mother suc a turn, that I have always be nvinced I am indebted to Miss Betsy for having be born o a Friday. My mother had left her cair i her agitati, and gone bend it in th cornr. Miss Betsy, lookig round th ro, sly and inquiringly, began on th othr side, and carrid her eye o, like a Saracen’s Head in a Dutc clk, until thy reached my mothr. Then she made a frown and a geture to my mother, lke one w was acustomed to be obeyed, to co and open the door. My mothr went. ‘Mrs. David Copperfield, I think,’ said Miss Betsy; th phasis referring, perhaps, to my mothr’s mournng weds, and hr condition. ‘Yes,’ said my mother, faitly. ‘Miss Trotwd,’ said th visitor. ‘You have heard of her, I dare ay?’ My mothr answered she had had that pleasure. And she had a disagreabl consciusness of not appearing to imply that it had Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 15 be an overpowring pleasure ‘Now you see her,’ said Mis Betsey. My mother bet her head, and begged her to walk in They went into the parlour my mother had c from, the fire i the bet room on the other side of the pasage not being lghted—nt having be lghted, inded, si my father’s funeral; and when they were both seated, and Mi Betsey said nthing, my mther, after vaiy trying to restrai hersef, began to cry. ‘Oh tut, tut, tut!’ said Miss Betsy, in a hurry. ‘Do’t do that! Cme, come!’ My mothr couldn’t hep it notwithtanding, so she cried unti e had had her cry out. ‘Take off your cap, child,’ said Mi Betsey, ‘and lt me see you.’ My mothr was to much afraid of hr to refuse compliance with this odd request, if sh had any dipotion to do s Therefore she did as she was tod, and did it with suc nrvous hands that her hair (wich was luxuriant and beautiful) fe al about her fac ‘Why, bls my heart!’ exclaimed Miss Betsey. ‘You are a very Baby!’ My mother was, no doubt, unusualy youthful in appearan even for her years; she hung her head, as if it were her fault, poor thing, and said, sobbing, that indeed she was afraid she was but a childish widow, and would be but a chidish mothr if she lived. In a short paus w ensued, she had a fancy that she felt Miss Betsey touch her hair, and that with no ungentl hand; but, lookig at her, in her timd hope, sh found that lady sitting with th skirt of hr dress tucked up, her hands foded on on knee, and her feet upon the fender, frowng at the fire Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 16 ‘In the name of Heaven,’ said Miss Betsey, suddeny, ‘why Rookery?’ ‘Do you mean th house, ma’am?’ asked my mothr. ‘Why Rookery?’ said Mis Betsey. ‘Cookery would have been more to th purpo, if you had had any practical ideas of life, either of you.’ ‘The nam was Mr. Copperfield’s choic,’ returned my mther. ‘When he bought the house, he liked to think that there were rooks about it.’ The evenig wid made suc a diturbane just no, amg s tall od e-tree at the bottom of the garde, that nether my mothr nor Miss Betsy could forbear glanng that way. As th elms bent to on anthr, like giants wh were whispering secrets, and after a fe sends of such repose, fe into a vit flurry, tossing thr wild arm about, as if thr late confideces were realy too wicked for their peac of mid, so weatherbeaten ragged old rooks’-nets, burdeg their higher branche, swung like wreks upo a stormy sea. ‘Where are the birds?’ asked Miss Betsey. ‘Th—?’ My mother had been thkig of somethg else. ‘The rooks—what has be of them?’ asked Mis Betsey. ‘There have not be any s we have lived here,’ said my mther. ‘We thought—Mr. Copperfied thought—it was quite a large rookery; but the nts were very old one, and the birds have derted them a log whe.’ ‘David Copperfield al over!’ crid Mi Betsey. ‘David Copperfield from head to foot! Cal a house a rookery when there’s not a rook near it, and take the birds on trust, beause he sees the nets!’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 17 ‘Mr. Copperfield,’ returned my mother, ‘is dead, and if you dare to speak unkindly of him to me—’ My poor dear mothr, I suppos, had some momentary itenti of ctting an asault and battery upon my aunt, who culd easy have settled her with one hand, even if my mther had be i far better training for suc an eunter than s was that eveing. But it passed with th acti of rising fro her chair; and she sat dow again very meekly, and faited. When se cam to herself, or when Mi Betsey had retored hr, whichever it was, she found th latter standing at th wdo Th twilight was by this time shading dow into darkness; and diy as they saw eac other, they could nt have do that without the aid of the fire. ‘Well?’ said Miss Betsy, coming back to her chair, as if she had only bee taking a casual look at th propect; ‘and w do you expect—’ ‘I am al i a tremble,’ faltered my mother. ‘I don’t kn wat’s the matter. I shal di, I am sure!’ ‘No, no, n,’ said Mi Betsey. ‘Have some tea.’ ‘Oh dear me, dear me, do you thk it w do me any god?’ cried my mothr in a helpless manr. ‘Of course it will,’ said Miss Betsy. ‘It’s nothg but fancy. What do you cal your girl?’ ‘I do’t know that it will be a girl, yet, ma’am,’ said my mother innocently. ‘Bless th Baby!’ excaimed Miss Betsy, unnsciusly quoting th send sentit of th pincus in th drawer upstairs, but applying it to my mothr instead of me, ‘I don’t mean that. I mean your servant-girl.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 18 ‘Peggotty,’ said my mother. ‘Peggotty!’ repeated Mis Betsey, with so indignati ‘Do you mean to say, chd, that any human beg has gon ito a Cristian church, and got hersf named Peggotty?’ ‘It’s her surnam,’ said my mothr, faintly. ‘Mr. Cpperfield calld hr by it, becaus her Christian name was th same as mine.’ ‘Here! Peggotty!’ crid Mis Betsey, opeg the parlour door. ‘Tea. Your mistress is a little un Don’t dawdl.’ Having issued this mandate with as much potentiality as if she ad be a regnzed authrity in th house ever since it had been a house, and having looked out to cofront the amazed Peggotty cog along the pasage with a candl at the sund of a strange voice, Miss Betsy shut th door again, and sat dow as before: with her feet on the fender, the skirt of her dres tucked up, and her hands folded on one knee. ‘You wre speaking about its beg a girl,’ said Miss Betsy. ‘I have no doubt it wil be a girl. I have a pretimt that it must be a girl Now chd, from the mot of the birth of this girl—’ ‘Perhaps boy,’ my mother tok the liberty of puttig in. ‘I tel you I have a pretimt that it must be a girl,’ returned Miss Betsy. ‘Do’t contradict. Fro th moment of this girl’s birth, chd, I itend to be her fried. I intend to be her godmther, and I beg you’l call her Betsey Trotwood Copperfied. There must be no mistakes in life with this Betsey Trotwood. There must be n trifling with her affections, poor dear. She must be we brought up, and we guarded fro reposng any fo confidences whre thy are not deserved. I must make that my care.’ There was a twitc of Mis Betsey’s head, after eac of thes Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 19 senteces, as if hr on od wrogs were working within her, and she repressed any plainer reference to th by strong constraint. So my mothr suspected, at least, as she observed her by th low glimmer of th fire: to much scared by Miss Betsy, to unasy in hersef, and too subdued and bewildered altogether, to obsrve anythg very clearly, or to kn what to say. ‘And was David god to you, chid?’ asked Mi Betsy, w e had been sit for a lttle whe, and the motions of her head had gradually ceased. ‘Were you cofortable together?’ ‘We wre very happy,’ said my mothr. ‘Mr. Copperfield was only too good to me’ ‘What, he spoilt you, I suppo?’ returnd Miss Betsy. ‘For beg quite al and dependet on myself in this rough rld agai, yes, I fear he did indeed,’ sobbed my mother. ‘Well! Don’t cry!’ said Miss Betsy. ‘You were not equally matcd, child—if any tw people can be equally matcd—and so I asked the question. You were an orphan, weren’t you?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘And a governs?’ ‘I was nursry-governess in a family whre Mr. Copperfield came to vit. Mr. Copperfield was very kind to me, and tok a great deal of ntic of m, and paid m a good deal of attenti, and at last propod to me. And I accepted him. And so we were marrid,’ said my mothr simply. ‘Ha! Por Baby!’ mused Miss Betsy, with her fron still bent upon the fire. ‘Do you know anything?’ ‘I beg your pardo, ma’am,’ faltered my mother. ‘About kepig house, for instance,’ said Mi Betsey. ‘Not much, I fear,’ returned my mother. ‘Not so much as I could Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 20 wish. But Mr. Copperfield was teacng me—’ (‘Muc h kn about it hif!’) said Mi Betsy in a parenthsis. —‘Ad I hope I should have improved, beg very anxious to larn, and he very patiet to teach me, if the great mfortune of his death’—my mothr broke dow again here, and could get no farther. ‘Well, we!’ said Miss Betsy. —‘I kept my houskepig-book regularly, and balanced it with Mr. Copperfield every night,’ cried my mothr in anothr burst of distress, and breaking dow again. ‘Well, we!’ said Miss Betsy. ‘Do’t cry any more.’ —‘Ad I am sure we never had a word of difference respeting it, except w Mr. Cpperfield objected to my thre and five beg too muc like eac other, or to my putting curly tai to my sevens and nis,’ resumed my mothr in anthr burst, and breaking dow agai ‘You’ll make yourself ill,’ said Miss Betsy, ‘and you know that wll not be god eithr for you or for my god-daughter. Cme! You mustn’t do it!’ This argumet had so share i quieting my mther, though hr increasing indisposition had a larger on Thre was an interval of slence, only broke by Mi Betsy’s occasially ejaculatig ‘Ha!’ as she sat with her feet upon the fender. ‘David had bought an anuity for himelf with his moy, I kn,’ said she, by and by. ‘What did he do for you?’ ‘Mr. Copperfield,’ said my mothr, answering with some difficulty, ‘was so considerate and god as to secure th reversion f a part of it to me.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 21 ‘How much?’ asked Miss Betsey. ‘A hundred and five pounds a year,’ said my mother. ‘He might have don worse,’ said my aunt. The word was appropriate to the mot. My mother was s uc worse that Peggotty, cog in with the teaboard and candles, and seeng at a glance ho ill she was,—as Miss Betsy mght have do sooner if there had be light eough,— cveyed her upstairs to her own room with all sped; and immediatey dispatcd Ham Peggotty, her nephe, wh had be for some days past secreted in th house, unknn to my mothr, as a specal messenger in case of emrgey, to fetc th nurs and doctor. Those aled pors were coderably astoed, when they arrived within a few miutes of eac other, to find an unknown lady of portetous appearance, sitting before th fire, wth hr boet tied over her left arm, stoppig her ears wth jeweers’ ctton. Peggotty knowing nothing about her, and my mther saying nothing about her, she was quite a mystery in th parlur; and the fact of her having a magazi of jewellers’ ctton in her pocket, and sticking th article in her ears in that way, did not detract fro th solemnity of her prece. Th doctor having bee upstairs and come dow again, and having satisfied hif, I suppose, that thre was a probabiity of this unknn lady and hif having to sit thre, face to face, for some hours, laid hif out to be polite and social. He was th eekest of his sex, the midest of little me He sidled i and out of a ro, to take up th les space. He walked as softly as th Ghot in Hamt, and more slowly. He carrid his head on on side, partly in modest depreiati of himsef, partly in modest Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 22 propitiati of everybody el. It is nothing to say that he hadn’t a wrd to thro at a dog. He couldn’t have thro a word at a mad dog. He might have offered him one gently, or half a one, or a fragmt of one; for he spoke as slowly as he walked; but he wuldn’t have bee rude to him, and he couldn’t have bee quick with him, for any earthly coderatin. Mr. Chillip, lookig mildly at my aunt with his head on on sde, and making her a littl bow, said, in allusion to th jellers’ ctton, as he softly touched his left ear: ‘Some lcal irritati, ma’am?’ ‘What!’ repld my aunt, pullg the cotton out of one ear lke a cork. Mr. Cillip was so alarmed by her abruptness—as he tod my mothr afterwards—that it was a mercy he didn’t lose his prece of mind. But he repeated sweetly: ‘Some lcal irritati, ma’am?’ ‘Nonse!’ replied my aunt, and corked hrsf again, at o blow Mr. Cillip could do nothing after this, but sit and look at her feebly, as she sat and looked at the fire, unti he was caled upstairs again. After some quarter of an hour’s absence, he returned. ‘We?’ said my aunt, takig the cotton out of the ear naret to hi ‘Well, ma’am,’ returnd Mr. Chilp, ‘we are—we are progressing slly, ma’am.’ ‘Ba—a—ah!’ said my aunt, with a perfet shake o th teptuous interjection. And corked hersef as before. Really—really—as Mr. Chillip told my mothr, he was almost Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 23 shoked; speaking i a profesional poit of vi alon, he was alt shocked. But he sat and loked at her, notwithstandig, for narly two hours, as s sat lookig at the fire, until he was again alled out. After another abse, he agai returned. ‘Well?’ said my aunt, takig out the cotto on that side agai ‘Well, ma’am,’ returnd Mr. Chilp, ‘we are—we are progressing sloy, ma’am.’ ‘Ya—a—ah!’ said my aunt. With such a snarl at him, that Mr. illip absolutely could not bear it. It was really calulated to break his spirit, he said afterwards. He preferred to go and sit upon the stairs, i the dark and a strong draught, until he was again sent for. Ham Peggotty, who went to the national shool, and was a very dragon at his catech, and who may therefore be regarded as a credible wtns, reported next day, that happenng to peep in at the parlour-door an hour after this, he was intantly deried by Miss Betsy, th walking to and fro in a state of agitation, and pounced upo before he could make his escape. That thre wre now occasional sounds of fet and voices overhad which he inferred th cotton did not exclude, fro th circumstance of h vidently being clutched by th lady as a victim on wh to xpend hr superabundant agitation wh th sounds were loudet. That, marcng him constantly up and dow by th collar (as if he had been takig too muc laudanum), se, at those tim, shook him, rumpld his hair, made light of his lnen, stopped his ears as if she cfounded them wth her own, and otherwis tousled and maltreated hm. This was in part confirmed by hi aunt, who saw him at half past twelve o’cock, soon after his Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 24 release, and affirmd that he was th as red as I was. Th mild Mr. Chillip could not posbly bear malice at such a time, if at any time. He sidled into th parlur as soo as he was at lberty, and said to my aunt in his meeket maner: ‘Well, ma’am, I am happy to congratulate you.’ ‘What upo?’ said my aunt, sharply. Mr. Chilp was fluttered agai, by the extreme severity of my aunt’s manner; so he made her a littl bow and gave hr a lttl smil, to molify her. ‘Mercy on th man, wat’s h doing!’ crid my aunt, impatiently. ‘Can’t he speak?’ ‘Be calm, my dear ma’am,’ said Mr. Chillip, in his softet accents. ‘Thre is no longer any occasion for unasiness, ma’am Be calm.’ It has since be considered almost a mirac that my aunt didn’t shake him, and sake what he had to say, out of hi Sh only shook her own head at him, but in a way that made h quai ‘Well, ma’am,’ resumed Mr. Cillip, as soo as h had courage, ‘I am happy to congratulate you. All is now over, ma’am, and we over.’ During the five miutes or so that Mr. Chp devoted to the delivery of this oration, my aunt eyed him narroy. ‘Ho is she?’ said my aunt, folding her arm with hr bot stil tied on one of them. ‘Well, ma’am, se wi soon be quite cofortable, I hope,’ returnd Mr. Cillip. ‘Quite as comfortabl as we can expect a young mother to be, under thes melanholy doti circumstance. Thre cant be any objection to your seng hr Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 25 pretly, ma’am. It may do hr god.’ ‘And she. Ho is she?’ said my aunt, sharply. Mr. Chilp laid his head a little more on one sde, and looked at my aunt like an amiabl bird. ‘Th baby,’ said my aunt. ‘How is she?’ ‘Ma’am,’ returned Mr. Chip, ‘I apprehended you had known It’s a boy.’ My aunt said nver a word, but took her bot by the strings, in th manr of a sling, aimed a bl at Mr. Cillip’s had wth it, put it on bent, walked out, and never came back. She vanished like a disconteted fairy; or like on of th supernatural beings, w it was popularly supposed I was entitld to see; and never came back any more No. I lay in my basket, and my mothr lay i hr bed; but Betsey Trotwood Copperfid was for ever in the land of dream and sadows, the tremendous region whenc I had so latey travelld; and the light upon the window of our room shone out upo th earthy bourne of all such travellers, and th mound above the ashes and the dust that on was he, without whom I had never been. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 26 Chapter 2 I OBSERVE T h first objects that assume a distict prece before me, as I look far back, into th blank of my infany, are my mther with her pretty hair and youthful sape, and Peggotty with no shape at al, and eyes so dark that they seemed to darke their whole neghbourhood in her fac, and ceeks and arms so hard and red that I wodered th birds didn’t peck her in preferenc to appl I beeve I can reber the two at a little ditan apart, dwarfed to my sight by stoopig down or kneelng on the floor, and I going unteadiy from the one to the other. I have an impresion on my mind which I cannot distiguish fro actual rebrane, of the touch of Peggotty’s forefinger as she used to hold it out to me, and of its beg roughened by ndlwork, like a pocket nutmg-grater. This may be fancy, though I think the mery of mot of us can go farthr back into such times than many of us suppose; just as I beeve the por of obsrvati in numbers of very young childre to be quite woderful for its css and accuracy. Indeed, I thk that most gron men wh are rearkable in this respet, may with greater propriety be said not to have lot the faculty, than to have acquired it; the rather, as I generally obsrve such men to retain a certain fre, and gentleness, and capacity of beg plased, wh are also an inheritance thy have preserved from their chdhood. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 27 I might have a mgivig that I am ‘manderig’ i stoppig to say this, but that it brigs me to remark that I buid thes nclusions, in part upo my own experice of myself; and if it should appear fro anythng I may set dow in th narrative that I was a child of cl observation, or that as a man I have a strong mry of my chdhood, I undoubtedly lay clai to both of these characteristics. Lookig back, as I was saying, into the blank of my infancy, the first objects I can remember as standing out by thlve fro a cfusi of things, are my mther and Peggotty. What e do I remember? Let me see There co out of the cloud, our house—not nw to me, but quite familiar, in its earliest remembran On th ground-floor is Peggotty’s kitchen, opeg ito a back yard; with a pigeon-house on a po, in the cetre, without any pigens in it; a great dogkenne i a corner, without any dog; and a quantity of fowls that look terribly tall to me, walkig about, in a macg and ferocius manner. Thre is on cock wh gets upo a post to cro, and ses to take particular notice of me as I look at him through th kitchen window, who make me sver, he is so fierce Of the geese outside the side-gate who co waddlg after me with their lg nks stretched out when I go that way, I dream at night: as a man virod by wid beasts might dream of lis. Here is a long pasage—wat an enrmous perspective I make of it!—ladig from Peggotty’s kitchen to the front door. A dark store-room opens out of it, and that is a place to be run past at nght; for I do’t know what may be among those tubs and jars and old tea-cts, when there is nobody in there with a diyburnig lght, letting a muldy air co out of the door, in whic Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 28 thre is th smell of soap, pickles, pepper, candles, and coffe, al at one whff. Then there are the two parlours: the parlour i w we sit of an eveg, my mother and I and Peggotty—for Peggotty is quite our companion, wh her work is done and w are al— and the bet parlour where we sit on a Sunday; grandly, but not s fortably. There is sothing of a doful air about that room to m, for Peggotty has told me—I do’t know when, but apparently age ago—about my father’s funral, and the cpany having their black cloaks put on. On Sunday night my mther reads to Peggotty and m in there, how Lazarus was raid up from the dead. And I am so frighted that thy are afterwards obliged to take m out of bed, and show me the quiet churchyard out of the bedroom window, with the dead all lyig i their grave at rest, below th solemn moo There i nthing half so gree that I know anywhere, as the grass of that churchyard; nothg half so shady as its tre; nthing half so quiet as its tombstone The shp are feedig there, when I kneel up, early in the morng, in my little bed i a coset within my mther’s room, to look out at it; and I see the red lght shg on the sun-dial, and think within mysf, ‘Is the sundial glad, I wonder, that it can tel the tim agai?’ Here is our pew in th church. What a high-backed pew! With a window near it, out of whic our house can be seen, and is see any tim during the morning’s servic, by Peggotty, who lke to make hersef as sure as sh can that it’s nt beg robbed, or is not in flam. But thugh Peggotty’s eye wanders, she is much offended if mine doe, and frons to me, as I stand upo th seat, that I am to lok at the clrgyman But I can’t always look at hi— I know him without that white thing on, and I am afraid of hi Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 29 wndering why I stare so, and perhaps stopping th service to quire—and what am I to do? It’s a dreadful thing to gape, but I must do something. I look at my mothr, but she preteds not to me. I look at a boy in th aisl, and he makes faces at me. I look at the sunght cog i at the open door through the porch, and there I see a stray sheep—I do’t mean a sr, but mutto— half making up his mind to come into th church. I fe that if I looked at hi any lger, I mght be tempted to say sothing out loud; and what would beme of me th! I look up at th umtal tablts o the wall, and try to think of Mr. Bodgers late of this parish, and wat th fegs of Mrs. Bodgers must have been, wen afflti sore, lg ti Mr. Bodgers bore, and physicians were in vain. I wonder whthr thy called i Mr. illip, and he was in vain; and if so, ho he likes to be reminded of it onc a week. I look from Mr. Chillip, i his Sunday nekcoth, to th pulpit; and thk what a god place it would be to play in, and what a castle it would make, with anthr boy coming up th tairs to attack it, and having the velvet cus with the tas thro dow on his head. In time my eye gradually shut up; and, from seg to hear the clrgyman sigig a drowsy sog in the heat, I hear nothing, until I fall off the seat with a crash, and am take out, mre dead than alive, by Peggotty. Ad now I see the outside of our house, with the latticd bedro-wdow standing ope to let in th swet-smelg air, and the ragged old rooks’-nets sti danglg in the el-tree at the bottom of the front garde Now I am i the garde at the back, beyod the yard where the empty pigeon-house and dogkeel are—a very preserve of butterfl, as I reber it, with a high fen, and a gate and padlock; where the fruit custers o the Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 30 tre, riper and richer than fruit has ever be since, i any othr garden, and where my mother gathers so in a basket, we I stand by, boltig furtive goberri, and trying to look unmoved. A great wd rises, and th summer is go in a moment. We are playig in the winter twilght, dang about the parlour. Wh my mothr is out of breath and rests hrsf i an ebo-chair, I watch her windig her bright curls round her fingers, and straiteg her wait, and nobody knows better than I do that sh likes to look so well, and is proud of beg so pretty. That is amg my very earliest impresions. That, and a sense that we were both a little afraid of Peggotty, and submitted oursves in most things to her direction, were among th first opi—if they may be s caled—that I ever derived from what I saw Peggotty and I were sitting one nght by the parlour fire, alone I had be readig to Peggotty about crocodi I must have read very perspicuously, or th poor soul must have be deeply interested, for I remember she had a cudy ipre, after I had do, that they were a sort of vegetabl I was tired of readig, and dead spy; but having leave, as a high treat, to st up until my mothr came home fro speding th eveing at a neighbour’s, I would rathr have did upo my post (of course) than have go to bed. I had reacd that stage of sleepiness w Peggotty seemed to swell and grow iy large. I propped my eyelids open wth my two forefingers, and loked perseverigly at her as sh sat at work; at the little bit of waxcandl se kept for her thread—how old it looked, beg so rinkled i al directions!—at th littl house with a thatched rof, were the yard-measure lved; at her work-box with a sldig lid, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 31 wth a view of St. Paul’s Cathedral (wth a pik do) paited on the top; at the bras thimble on her finger; at hersef, whom I thought lovely. I felt so slpy, that I kn if I lt sight of anythng for a moment, I was go ‘Peggotty,’ says I, suddey, ‘were you ever married?’ ‘Lord, Master Davy,’ replied Peggotty. ‘What’s put marriage i your head?’ She answered with such a start, that it quite awoke me. And then she stopped in her work, and looked at m, with her ndl draw out to its thread’s legth. ‘But were you ever married, Peggotty?’ says I. ‘You are a very handsome woan, an’t you?’ I thought her in a different style from my mther, crtaiy; but of another school of beauty, I codered her a perfect example. Thre was a red velvet fotsto in th best parlur, on which my mther had paited a ngay. The ground-work of that stool, and Peggotty’s cplxion appeared to m to be on and the sam thing. The stool was sooth, and Peggotty was rough, but that made no difference. ‘Me handsome, Davy!’ said Peggotty. ‘Lawk, no, my dear! But wat put marriage in your head?’ ‘I do’t know!—You mustn’t marry more than one person at a tim, may you, Peggotty?’ ‘Certainly not,’ says Peggotty, with th proptet decision ‘But if you marry a person, and the perso di, why then you may marry another person, mayn’t you, Peggotty?’ ‘You may,’ says Peggotty, ‘if you choose, my dear. That’s a matter of opinion.’ ‘But what is your opinion, Peggotty?’ said I. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 32 I asked her, and looked curiously at her, beause she looked s curiusly at me. ‘My opinion is,’ said Peggotty, taking her eye fro me, after a littl idecision and going o with her work, ‘that I never was marrid myself, Master Davy, and that I don’t expect to be. That’s al I know about the subjet.’ ‘You an’t cros, I suppose, Peggotty, are you?’ said I, after stting quiet for a miute. I realy thought s was, s had be so short with me; but I was quite mistaken: for she laid aside her work (wich was a stockig of her own), and opeg her arm wide, took my curly had wthin th, and gave it a god squeze I kn it was a good squeeze, beause, beg very plump, whenever she made any lttle exertion after sh was dred, so of the buttons on the back of her gown fle off. Ad I rect two bursting to the opposite side of th parlur, while she was hugging me. ‘Now let me hear so mre about the Crorkidills,’ said Peggotty, who was nt quite right in the nam yet, ‘for I an’t heard half enough.’ I culdn’t quite understand why Peggotty looked so queer, or why sh was so ready to go back to the crocodi However, we returned to those moters, with fresh wakeful o my part, and we lft their eggs in the sand for the sun to hatch; and we ran away from them, and baffled them by cotantly turnig, whic they were unabl to do quickly, on accunt of their unwiedy make; and we went into the water after them, as natives, and put sharp pieces of timber dow thr throats; and in short we ran th whole crocodi gauntlet. I did, at least; but I had my doubts of Peggotty, who was thoughtfully stikig her ndl into various Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 33 parts of her face and arms, all th time. We had exhausted the crocodi, and begun with the alligators, when the garde-be rang. We went out to the door; and there was my mother, lookig unusually pretty, I thought, and with her a gentleman with beautiful black hair and wiskers, w had walked ho with us fro church last Sunday. As my mothr stoped dow on th threshod to take me in her arms and kiss me, th gentleman said I was a more highly priviged little felw than a moarch—or sthing like that; for my later understanding comes, I am seble, to my aid here ‘What do that man?’ I asked him, over her shoulder. He patted me on the head; but sohow, I didn’t lke hi or hi deep voice, and I was jealus that his hand should touc my mothr’s in toucng me—which it did. I put it away, as w as I could. ‘Oh, Davy!’ remontrated my mother. ‘Dear boy!’ said th gentleman. ‘I cant wonder at h devoti!’ I never saw such a beautiful colour on my mothr’s face before She gently chid me for beig rude; and, keeping me c to hr saw, turned to thank the gentlan for takig s muc troubl as to brig her home. She put out her hand to hi as she spoke, and, as he met it with his own, sh gland, I thought, at me ‘Let us say “god nght”, my fine boy,’ said the getlan, when he had bet his head— I saw him!—over my mothr’s littl glove. ‘Good night!’ said I. ‘C! Let us be the bet friends in the world!’ said the gentleman, laughng. ‘Shake hands!’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 34 My right hand was in my mother’s left, so I gave him the othr. ‘Why, that’s the wrong hand, Davy!’ laughed the gentlan My mothr dre my right hand forward, but I was resolved, for my former reason, nt to give it him, and I did nt. I gave hi the other, and he shook it heartily, and said I was a brave fellw, and wnt away. t this miute I se him turn round i the garde, and give us a last look with his il-omened black eyes, before the door was shut. Peggotty, who had nt said a word or moved a finger, seured the fastegs intantly, and we al went ito the parlour. My mther, ctrary to her usual habit, intead of cog to the elbo-cair by the fire, reaied at the other end of the room, and sat singing to hersf. —‘Hope you have had a plasant eveing, ma’am,’ said Peggotty, standig as stiff as a barrel in the ctre of the room, wth a candlestick in her hand. ‘Much oblged to you, Peggotty,’ returned my mther, i a cheerful voice, ‘I have had a very pleasant evenig.’ ‘A stranger or so makes an agreabl change,’ suggested Peggotty. ‘A very agreeable change, indeed,’ returned my mother. Peggotty ctiuing to stand motio in the middl of the ro, and my mothr resuming her singig, I fe asleep, thugh I was not so sound asleep but that I could hear voices, wthut hearig what they said. Wh I half awoke from this unmfortabl doze, I found Peggotty and my mothr both in tears, and both talking. ‘Not such a on as this, Mr. Cpperfield wuldn’t have lked,’ said Peggotty. ‘That I say, and that I swear!’ ‘Good Heaves!’ cried my mothr, ‘you’ll drive me mad! Was Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 35 ever any por girl so il-usd by her servants as I am! Why do I do myself th injustice of calg myself a girl? Have I never be arried, Peggotty?’ ‘God kns you have, ma’am,’ returned Peggotty. ‘Th, ho can you dare,’ said my mothr—‘you know I don’t mean ho can you dare, Peggotty, but how can you have the heart—to make m uncfortabl and say suc bitter things to me, when you are wel aware that I haven’t, out of this place, a sgl fried to turn to?’ ‘The more’s the reason,’ returned Peggotty, ‘for saying that it wn’t do. No! That it won’t do. No! No price could make it do. No!’—I thought Peggotty would have thrown the candltik away, she was so emphatic with it. ‘Ho can you be so aggravatig,’ said my mothr, shedding mre tears than before, ‘as to talk in suc an unjust manr! How can you go on as if it was al settled and arranged, Peggotty, when I tel you over and over agai, you cruel thing, that beyond the commonest civiities nothing has pasd! You talk of admrati What am I to do? If people are so silly as to idulge th sentit, i it my fault? What am I to do, I ask you? Would you wis me to shave my had and black my face, or disfigure myself with a burn, or a scald, or something of that sort? I dare say you would, Peggotty. I dare say you’d quite enjoy it.’ Peggotty sd to take this aspersi very muc to heart, I thought. ‘And my dear boy,’ cried my mothr, coming to th elbow-chair in which I was, and caressing me, ‘my own littl Davy! Is it to be nted to me that I am wantig in affection for my preious treasure, the dearest little fellow that ever was!’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 36 ‘Nobody nver went and hinted n suc a thing,’ said Peggotty. ‘You did, Peggotty!’ returnd my mothr. ‘You know you did. What el was it possible to infer fro what you said, you unkind creature, wh you know as we as I do, that on hs account oly last quarter I wouldn’t buy mysf a new paraso, though that old green one is frayed the whole way up, and the frige is perfectly mangy? You know it is, Peggotty. You can’t dey it.’ Then, turnig affectinately to me, with her chk agait mi, ‘A I a naughty mama to you, Davy? Am I a nasty, cruel, sfih, bad mama? Say I am, my child; say “ye”, dear boy, and Peggotty will love you; and I don’t love Peggotty’s love is a great deal better than m, Davy. you at all, do I?’ At this, we all fel a-crying together. I think I was the ludet of th party, but I am sure we were all sincere about it. I was quite heart-broke mysf, and am afraid that i the first tranports of wounded tendern I cald Peggotty a ‘Beast’. That honet creature was in deep affliction, I remember, and must have be quite buttonl on the occason; for a lttle volly of those xplosive went off, wh, after having made it up wth my mther, she kneeld do by the elbo-cair, and made it up wth me. We went to bed greatly dejected. My sobs kept wakig me, for a long time; and wh on very strong sob quite hoisted me up in bed, I found my mothr sitting on th coverlt, and leang over me. I fell asleep in her arms, after that, and slpt soundly. Whethr it was th followng Sunday w I saw th gentleman agai, or whether there was any greater lapse of ti before he reappeared, I cannot recall. I don’t profes to be car about dates. But thre he was, in church, and he walked ho wth us Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 37 afterwards He cam i, too, to look at a famus geranium we had, i the parlour-window. It did not appear to me that he took muc ti of it, but before he wet he asked my mothr to give hi a bit of the bl She begged him to choose it for himf, but he refused to do that—I could not understand why—so she plucked it for hm, and gave it into his hand. He said he would never, never part with it any more; and I thought he must be quite a fool not to know that it would fal to pieces in a day or tw Peggotty began to be le with us, of an eveg, than sh had always be My mother deferred to her very muc—more than usual, it occurred to me—and we were all thre excelt friends; stil we were different from what we used to be, and were not so fortabl among ourseves Sotim I fancd that Peggotty perhaps objected to my mothr’s wearing all th pretty dresses she had in her drawrs, or to her going so often to vist at that neighbour’s; but I couldn’t, to my satisfacti, make out h it was Gradually, I became usd to seng th gentleman with th black wiskers. I liked him no better than at first, and had th same unasy jealusy of him; but if I had any reason for it beyod a chid’s instinctive dislike, and a geral idea that Peggotty and I could make much of my mothr withut any hlp, it certainly was not the reason that I might have found if I had bee older. No such thing came into my mind, or near it. I could observe, in littl pieces, as it were; but as to making a net of a number of th pieces, and catcng anybody in it, that was, as yet, beyond me. On autumn mornig I was with my mother i the front garde, when Mr. Murdstone—I kn him by that nam now— came by, on horseback. He red up his horse to salute my Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 38 mther, and said he was going to Lowestoft to se s friends who were there with a yact, and merrily proposed to take me on th saddle before him if I would like th ride. Th air was so clear and pleasant, and th horse seed to like the idea of the ride s muc himf, as he stood snorting and pawing at the garde-gate, that I had a great dere to go. So I was t upstairs to Peggotty to be made spruce; and i the mantim Mr. Murdstone diounted, and, with his horse’s bridl draw over his arm, walked slowly up and down on the outer side of the seetbriar fence, we my mother walked sowly up and do on the inr to kep him cpany. I rect Peggotty and I pepig out at them from my little window; I recot how closey they seemed to be examg the sweetbriar between them, as they strolld alg; and how, from beg i a perfectly angel temper, Peggotty turnd cross in a moment, and brusd my hair th rog way, excessivey hard. Mr. Murdstone and I were soon off, and trotting along on the green turf by the side of the road. He held m quite easy wth one arm, and I don’t thk I was restles usually; but I could not make up my mid to sit in front of hi without turnig my head sometimes, and lookig up in his face. He had that kind of shallow black eye—I want a better word to expres an eye that has no depth in it to be looked into—which, w it is abstracted, see fro some peculiarity of light to be disfigured, for a moment at a time, by a cast. Several times wh I glanced at hi, I observed that appearance wth a sort of awe, and wondered what he was thinking about so closy. His hair and whiskers wre blacker and thicker, looked at so near, than eve I had given th credit for beg. A square about th lowr part of his face, and th Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 39 dotted indiation of the strog black beard he saved ce every day, reminded me of th wax-wrk that had travelled ito our nghbourhood so half-a-year before. This, hi regular eyebro, and the ri whte, and black, and brown, of hi mplexi—cfound hi complexi, and hs mmory!—made me thk him, in spite of my misgivings, a very handsome man. I have no doubt that my poor dear mother thought him so too. We wet to an hotel by the sea, where two getl wre okig cigars in a room by themve Eac of them was lyig o at least four chairs, and had a large rough jacket o In a cornr was a heap of coats and boat-cloaks, and a flag, all bundled up together. They both rolld on to their feet in an untidy srt of manner, w we came in, and said, ‘Halloa, Murdsto! We thught you were dead!’ ‘Not yet,’ said Mr. Murdstoe. ‘And who’s this shaver?’ said one of the gentl, takig hold of me ‘That’s Davy,’ returned Mr. Murdstone ‘Davy wh?’ said the getlman ‘Jo?’ ‘Copperfield,’ said Mr. Murdstone ‘What! Betcng Mrs. Copperfield’s encumbran?’ cried th gentleman. ‘Th pretty littl widow?’ ‘Quinion,’ said Mr. Murdsto, ‘take care, if you please Somebody’s sharp.’ ‘Wh is?’ asked th gentleman, laughng. I looked up, quikly; beg curius to kn ‘Only Broks of Sheffid,’ said Mr. Murdsto I was quite reeved to find that it was ony Brooks of Sheffield; Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 40 for, at first, I realy thought it was I. There sed to be sthing very coal in the reputation of Mr. Brooks of Sheffield, for both the gentl laughed heartily w he was mentioned, and Mr. Murdsto was a god deal amusd also. After some laughng, th gentleman wh he had calld Quiion, said: ‘And what is th opinion of Broks of Sheffid, in reference to the projected bus?’ ‘Why, I don’t know that Brooks understands muc about it at pret,’ repld Mr. Murdstone; ‘but he is nt genraly favourable, I believe’ Thre was more laughter at this, and Mr. Quiion said h uld ring th be for some sherry in wh to drink to Broks. This h did; and w th wi came, he made me have a littl, wth a biscuit, and, before I drank it, stand up and say, ‘Cfus to Brooks of Shffied!’ The toast was recved with great applause, and such harty laughter that it made me laugh to; at whic they laughed the more. In short, we quite enjoyed ourselves. We walked about on the clff after that, and sat on the gras, and looked at thgs through a telescope—I could make out nothing myself w it was put to my eye, but I preteded I culd—and then we cam back to the hotel to an early dier. Al the tim we were out, the two gentl smked iantly— whic, I thought, if I might judge from the sm of their rough cats, they must have been dog, ever sie the coats had first c home from the taior’s I must nt forget that we went on board the yact, where they al three deded into the cabi, and were busy with some papers. I saw th quite hard at wrk, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 41 when I looked down through the open skylight. They left me, during this tim, with a very ni man with a very large head of red hair and a very smal shy hat upon it, who had got a crossbarred shirt or waistcoat on, with ‘Skylark’ in capital letters across the ct. I thought it was his nam; and that as he lived on board ship and hadn’t a stret door to put his name o, h put it thre instead; but w I cald him Mr. Skylark, he said it meant th vessel. I obsrved al day that Mr. Murdstone was graver and steadier than the two gentln. They were very gay and carel They joked freely with one another, but sedom with him It appeared to m that he was mre clver and cod than they were, and that they regarded him with sothing of my own feeg. I remarked that, oce or twice wh Mr. Quinion was talking, h looked at Mr. Murdsto sideways, as if to make sure of his not beg diplased; and that onc when Mr. Pasdge (the other gentleman) was in high spirits, he trod upo his fot, and gave h a secret caution with his eye, to observe Mr. Murdsto, w was tting stern and sit. Nor do I rect that Mr. Murdstone laughd at all that day, except at th Sheffid joke—and that, by th by, was his own. We wt home early in the evenig. It was a very fin evenig, and my mothr and he had anothr stroll by th swetbriar, wile I was set in to get my tea. Wh he was gon, my mther asked me all about th day I had had, and wat thy had said and done. I mentioned what thy had said about her, and she laughd, and tod me thy were impudet fe wh talked no—but I knew it plased hr. I kne it quite as we as I kn it now I tok th opportunity of asking if she was at all acquainted with Mr. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 42 Brooks of Sheffield, but se anered No, only she supposed he must be a manufacturer in th knife and fork way. Can I say of her fac—altered as I have reason to remeber it, perished as I know it is—that it is go, wh here it comes before at this itant, as ditit as any fac that I may choose to look o in a croded stret? Can I say of her innocnt and girl beauty, that it faded, and was no more, w its breath fals o my ceek no, as it fel that nght? Can I say she ever changed, when my rembrance brigs her back to life, thus only; and, truer to its loving youth than I have be, or man ever is, still hds fast wat it cherished th? I write of her just as sh was when I had gone to bed after this talk, and she came to bid me god night. She kneeled dow playfuly by th side of th bed, and laying her chin upo her hands, and laughing, said: ‘What was it they said, Davy? Tel m again I can’t believe it.’ ‘“Beitching—”’ I began. My mothr put her hands upo my lips to stop me. ‘It was never betcg,’ she said, laughg. ‘It never could have been betcg, Davy. No I kn it wasn’t!’ ‘Ye, it was. “Beitching Mrs Copperfield”,’ I repeated stoutly. ‘And, “pretty.”’ ‘No, no, it was nver pretty. Not pretty,’ iterposed my mother, laying her fingers on my lips again. ‘Yes it was. “Pretty little widow.”’ ‘What foish, impudent creatures!’ cried my mothr, laughng and covering her face. ‘What ridiculous men! An’t thy? Davy dear—’ ‘Well, Ma.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 43 ‘Don’t tel Peggotty; sh might be angry with them I am dreadfully angry with them mysf; but I would rather Peggotty didn’t kn.’ I proised, of course; and we kissed on anothr over and over again, and I soo fe fast asleep. It sees to me, at this distance of time, as if it wre th next day w Peggotty broached th striking and adventurous proposition I am about to meti; but it was probably about two moths afterwards. We were sittig as before, one evenig (when my mother was out as before), in copany with the stockig and the yardmasure, and the bit of wax, and the box with St. Paul’s on the ld, and the crocodi bok, when Peggotty, after lookig at me several times, and opeing hr mouth as if she were going to speak, without dog it—w I thought was merely gapig, or I should have be rathr alarmed—said coaxigly: ‘Master Davy, how should you like to go alg with me and that be a spend a fortnght at my brothr’s at Yarmuth? Wouldn’t treat?’ ‘Is your brother an agreeabl man, Peggotty?’ I inquired, provisionally. ‘Oh, what an agreeable man he i!’ crid Peggotty, holdig up hr hands. ‘Thn thre’s th sea; and th boats and ships; and th fishermen; and th beach; and Am to play with—’ Peggotty meant her nephe Ham, mentioned in my first chapter; but she spoke of him as a mors of English Grammar. I was flusd by her summary of delights, and replied that it wuld indeed be a treat, but what would my mothr say? ‘Why then I’ll as good as bet a guina,’ said Peggotty, itent Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 44 upon my fac, ‘that se’l lt us go. I’l ask her, if you like, as soon as ever she co home. There no!’ ‘But wat’s she to do while we’re away?’ said I, putting my sall ebows on the tabl to argue the pot. ‘She can’t live by herself.’ If Peggotty were lookig for a hole, al of a sudden, in the heel of that stockig, it must have been a very lttle one ideed, and not worth darnig. ‘I say! Peggotty! She can’t live by herself, you kn.’ ‘Oh, bls you!’ said Peggotty, lking at me agai at last. ‘Don’t you know? Sh’s going to stay for a fortnight with Mrs. Grayper. Mrs. Grayper’s going to have a lot of copany.’ Oh! If that was it, I was quite ready to go. I waited, i th utmost impatice, until my mothr came home fro Mrs Grayper’s (for it was that idetial neighbour), to ascertain if w uld get leave to carry out this great idea. Without beg narly so much surprid as I had expected, my mothr entered into it readily; and it was all arranged that night, and my board and lodging during th visit were to be paid for. Th day soo came for our going. It was such an early day that it came soo, eve to me, wh was in a fever of expectation, and half afraid that an earthquake or a fiery mountai, or so other great cvuls of nature, might interpose to stop the expeditio We wre to go in a carrir’s cart, which departed in th morning after breakfast. I would have given any my to have be allowd to wrap myself up over-night, and slp in my hat and boots. It touches me nearly now, although I tel it lightly, to rect how eager I was to leave my happy home; to think how little I Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 45 suspeted what I did leave for ever. I am glad to rellect that wh th carrir’s cart was at th gate, and my mther stood there kig me, a grateful fondn for her and for the old plac I had nver turned my back upo before, made me cry. I am glad to kn that my mothr cried to, and that I felt her heart beat against mine I am glad to rect that when the carrier began to mve, my mther ran out at the gate, and calld to him to stop, that sh ght ki m o mre. I am glad to dw upon the earntne and love with which she lifted up her face to mine, and did so. we left her standig i the road, Mr. Murdstone cam up to were she was, and seemed to expotulate with her for beg s moved. I was looking back round th awning of th cart, and wndered wat business it was of hi Peggotty, wh was also lookig back on the other side, seemed anything but satisfid; as the fac sh brought back i the cart deted. I sat lokig at Peggotty for so tim, in a reverie on this supposititious case: wthr, if she were emplyed to lose me like the boy in the fairy tal, I should be abl to track my way home agai by the butto she would sed. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 46 Chapter 3 I HAVE A CHANGE T h carrir’s hrse was th laziest horse in th world, I should hope, and suffled along, with his head down, as if he lked to kep peopl waitig to whom the package re directed. I fancied, indeed, that h sometimes chuckled audibly over this refletio, but the carrier said he was only troubled with a cough. The carrier had a way of keepig hi head down, like his horse, and of droopig seepiy forward as he drove, with one of his arm on eac of hi knees. I say ‘drove’, but it struck me that the cart would have gone to Yarmouth quite as wel without hi, for the horse did al that; and as to coversatio, he had no idea of it but whistlng. Peggotty had a basket of refreshments on her knee, w would have lasted us out handsy, if we had be going to Lodon by the sam coveyan. We ate a good deal, and slept a good deal Peggotty always went to slp with her c upo the handl of the basket, her hold of whic never relaxed; and I could nt have believed un I had heard her do it, that one defencels woman could have snred so much. We made so many deviations up and dow lanes, and wre such a long time delivering a bedstead at a public-huse, and callg at other plac, that I was quite tired, and very glad, when we saw Yarmouth. It looked rather spogy and sppy, I thought, as I carried my eye over the great dul waste that lay acro th river; and I could not help wonderig, if the world were realy as Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 47 round as my gegraphy bok said, h any part of it came to be so flat. But I refleted that Yarmouth might be stuated at one of the poles; which would account for it. w drew a little narer, and saw the whole adjact prospet lyig a straight low lin under the sky, I hinted to Peggotty that a mound or so might have improved it; and also that if th land had be a lttle more separated from the sea, and the town and the tide had nt be quite so muc mixed up, like toast and water, it would have be nr. But Peggotty said, with greater ephas than usual, that we must take things as we found them, and that, for her part, sh was proud to call hersef a Yarmouth Bloater. Wh we got into the street (whic was strange eough to m) and smelt th fish, and pitch, and oakum, and tar, and saw th aiors walkig about, and the carts jingling up and down over the sto, I felt that I had done so busy a plac an injustice; and said as muc to Peggotty, who heard my expre of deght with great complacency, and told me it was we knn (I suppo to those who had the good fortune to be born Bloaters) that Yarmouth was, upon the whole, the fint place in the univers ‘Here’s my Am!’ screamd Peggotty, ‘grod out of kndge!’ He was waitig for us, in fact, at the publ-house; and asked me h I found myself, like an old acquaintance. I did not fe, at first, that I knew him as we as h knew me, beause h had never come to our house since th night I was born, and naturally h had th advantage of me. But our intimacy was much advanced by h takig m on hi back to carry me home. He was, nw, a huge, strong fellw of six feet high, broad i proportion, and roundshouldered; but with a simperig boy’s face and curly light hair that gave him quite a shepish look. He was dred in a canvas Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 48 jacket, and a pair of such very stiff trousers that thy would have tood quite as well alone, without any lgs in them And you culdn’t so properly have said he wore a hat, as that he was vered in a-top, like an old building, with something pitchy. Ham carrying me on hi back and a small box of ours under h arm, and Peggotty carrying another small box of ours, we turned dow lanes bestre with bits of chips and littl hillocks of sand, and went past gas-wrks, rope-walks, boat-builders’ yards, shipwrights’ yards, ship-breakers’ yards, caulkers’ yards, riggers’ lofts, smith’ forge, and a great litter of such plac, until w came out upon the dul waste I had already seen at a ditan; wen Ham said, ‘Yon’s our house, Mas’r Davy!’ I looked in all direction, as far as I could stare over th lderness, and away at th sea, and away at th river, but no huse could I make out. There was a black barge, or s other kind of superannuated boat, nt far off, high and dry on the ground, wth an iro fun sticking out of it for a chimney and sokig very coy; but nothing el in the way of a habitation that was visibl to me. ‘That’s not it?’ said I. ‘That ship-lookig thing?’ ‘That’s it, Mas’r Davy,’ returned Ham If it had be Aladdin’s palace, roc’s egg and all, I suppo I could not have be more charmed with th romantic idea of living in it. Thre was a delghtful door cut in th side, and it was roofed in, and there were little widows i it; but the wderful charm of it was, that it was a real boat wich had no doubt be upon the water hundreds of tim, and whic had never be inteded to be lived in, o dry land. That was th captivation of it Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 49 to m If it had ever be meant to be lved i, I might have thught it small, or innveient, or lonely; but never having bee designed for any such us, it became a perfet abode It was beautifully clean inside, and as tidy as possibl Thre as a tabl, and a Dutc clk, and a chet of drawers, and on th t of drawrs there was a tea-tray with a paiting on it of a lady with a paraso, takig a walk with a mtary-lookig cd who was trundlg a hoop. The tray was kept from tumblg down, by a bibl; and th tray, if it had tumbled dow, would have smasd a quantity of cups and saucrs and a teapot that were grouped around the bok. On the wal there were so con cured picture, framd and glazed, of scripture subjets; such as I have ver see since in th hands of pedlars, wthut seng th w terior of Peggotty’s brother’s house agai, at one view. Abraham in red gog to sacrifice Isaac in blue, and Danie in ye cast ito a de of green l, were the mot prot of the. Over th littl manteshef, was a picture of th ‘Sarah Jane’ lugger, buit at Sunderland, with a real little woode stern stuck on to it; a wrk of art, combining composition with carpetry, wich I cdered to be one of the mot enviabl po that th world could afford. There were so hooks i the beam of the ceiling, th us of which I did not divi th; and some lockers and boxe and conveiences of that sort, wich served for seats and eked out the chairs. this I saw in the first glan after I crossd the threshold— cd-lke, acrdig to my theory—and then Peggotty oped a littl door and shod me my bedro. It was th completest and mt derable bedroom ever se—in the stern of the ve; wth a lttle window, where the rudder used to go through; a little Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 50 lookig-glas, just the right height for me, naid agait the wall, and framed with oyster-slls; a littl bed, which thre was just room eough to get into; and a ngay of seawd in a blue mug on the table. The wal were whtewashed as whte as mik, and the patchwork counterpane made my eyes quite ache with its brightness. On thing I particularly noticed in th delightful use, was th smel of fish; which was so searchig, that wh I tok out my pocket-handkerchief to wipe my nose, I found it st exactly as if it had wrapped up a lobster. On my impartig this discovery in confidece to Peggotty, she informd m that hr brothr dealt in lobsters, crabs, and crawfish; and I afterwards found that a heap of th creatures, in a state of wnderful nglomerati with on anothr, and never leaving off pinching watever thy laid hod of, were usualy to be found i a littl ooden outhouse where the pots and kettl were kept. We were welcomd by a very civil wan in a wite apron, whom I had se curtseying at the door when I was on Ham’s back, about a quarter of a mile off. Likew by a most beautiful ttle girl (or I thought her so) with a neklac of blue beads on, who wouldn’t let me ki her when I offered to, but ran away and hd hersf. By and by, wh we had dined in a sumptuous anr off bod dabs, meted butter, and potatoes, with a chop for me, a hairy man with a very good-natured fac cam home. As he calld Peggotty ‘Las’, and gave her a hearty smack on the ceek, I had n doubt, from the general propriety of her cduct, that he was her brother; and s he turned out—being presently itroduced to m as Mr. Peggotty, the master of the house ‘Glad to see you, sir,’ said Mr. Peggotty. ‘You’ll find us rough, sir, but you’l find us ready.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 51 I thanked hi, and repld that I was sure I should be happy in such a delightful plac ‘How’s your Ma, sir?’ said Mr. Peggotty. ‘Did you leave her pretty jolly?’ I gave Mr. Peggotty to understand that sh was as joly as I could wish, and that she desired her compliments—wich was a polite fiction on my part. ‘I’m much obleeged to her, I’m sure,’ said Mr. Peggotty. ‘Well, sir, if you can make out here, fur a fortnut, ’log wi’ her,’ ndding at his sister, ‘and Ham, and littl Em’ly, we shall be proud of your company.’ Having done th hours of his house in this hospitabl anr, Mr. Peggotty went out to was himf in a kettleful of hot water, remarkig that ‘cd would never get his muck off’. He soo returnd, greatly improved in appearance; but so rubicund, that I couldn’t help thinkig his fac had this i con with the lbsters, crabs, and crawfis,—that it went into the hot water very black, and came out very red. After tea, w th door was shut and all was made snug (th nights being cold and misty now), it seed to me th most delicious retreat that th imagiation of man could conceive. To hear the wind getting up out at sa, to know that the fog was repig over the delate flat outside, and to look at the fire, and think that there was no house near but this on, and this one a boat, was lke eantmet. Little Em’ly had overc her shynss, and was sitting by my side upo th lowst and least of th lockers, wich was just large eugh for us tw, and just fitted ito the cy corner. Mrs. Peggotty with the white apron, was kntting on the oppote side of the fire. Peggotty at her Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 52 needlrk was as muc at home wth St. Paul’s and the bit of wax-candl, as if they had never known any other roof. Ham, who had bee giving me my first lesson in all-fours, was trying to rellect a sche of teing fortun with th dirty cards, and was printing off fishy impressions of h thumb on all th cards he turnd. Mr. Peggotty was smokig his pipe. I felt it was a time for conversati and confidece. ‘Mr. Peggotty!’ says I. ‘Sir,’ says he ‘Did you give your so the nam of Ham, beaus you lved in a sort of ark?’ Mr. Peggotty seemed to thk it a deep idea, but anered: ‘No, sir. I never giv him n name.’ ‘Who gave him that nam, then?’ said I, putting questio umber two of the catec to Mr. Peggotty. ‘Why, sir, hi father giv it him,’ said Mr. Peggotty. ‘I thought you were his father!’ ‘My brother Joe was his father,’ said Mr. Peggotty. ‘Dead, Mr. Peggotty?’ I hinted, after a repetful pause. ‘Drodead,’ said Mr. Peggotty. I was very muc surprisd that Mr. Peggotty was not Ham’s father, and began to wonder whether I was mtake about hi relatiship to anybody el thre I was so curius to know, that I made up my md to have it out with Mr. Peggotty. ‘Littl Em’ly,’ I said, glancing at hr. ‘Sh is your daughter, isn’t s, Mr. Peggotty?’ ‘No, sir. My brothr-in-law, Tom, was her father.’ I couldn’t hp it. ‘—Dead, Mr. Peggotty?’ I hited, after anothr respectful silence. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 53 ‘Drodead,’ said Mr. Peggotty. I felt the difficulty of resumg the subjet, but had nt got to the bottom of it yet, and must get to the bottom show. So I said: ‘Haven’t you any chdre, Mr. Peggotty?’ ‘No, master,’ he anered with a short laugh. ‘I’m a bachdore’ ‘A bacher!’ I said, astoished. ‘Why, w’s that, Mr. Peggotty?’ poting to the person in the apron who was kntting. ‘That’s Missis Gummidge,’ said Mr. Peggotty. ‘Gummdge, Mr. Peggotty?’ But at this pot Peggotty—I mean my own peuliar Peggotty— made such impresive motis to me not to ask any more questions, that I could ony st and look at al the st cpany, until it was tim to go to bed. Then, i the privacy of my own little abi, she informed m that Ham and Em’ly were an orphan phew and nece, whom my host had at different tim adopted i their cdhood, when they were left detitute: and that Mrs. Gummidge was th widow of his partner in a boat, w had died very poor. He was but a poor man himf, said Peggotty, but as good as gold and as true as steel—those were her si The only subjet, she informd me, on which he ever shod a vit temper or swore an oath, was this gerosity of his; and if it were ever referred to, by any one of them, he struck the table a heavy bl wth his right hand (had split it on on such ocasion), and swore a dreadful oath that he would be ‘Gormed’ if he didn’t cut and run for god, if it was ever mentioned again. It appeared, in anr to my inquiri, that nbody had the last idea of the etymgy of this terribl verb passive to be gormd; but that thy Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 54 all regarded it as cotituting a most solem impreation. I was very sensible of my entertainer’s godne, and listed to the wome’s going to bed in another lttle crib like m at the opposite ed of th boat, and to him and Ham hangig up tw hamks for themsves on the hooks I had nticd i the roof, i a very luxurious state of mid, enhaned by my beg seepy. As umber gradually stole upo m, I heard the wind howlig out at sea and comng on acro th flat so fircely, that I had a lazy appren of the great dep risg in the night. But I bethought myself that I was in a boat, after all; and that a man like Mr. Peggotty was nt a bad perso to have on board if anything did happen. Nothg happened, however, worse than morng. At as oon as it shone upon the oyster-shell frame of my mirror I was out of bed, and out with little Em’ly, pikig up sto upo the beach ‘You’re quite a sailr, I suppose?’ I said to Em’ly. I don’t kn that I suppod anything of the kid, but I felt it an act of gallantry to say something; and a shiing sail cl to us made such a pretty littl image of itself, at th moment, in her bright eye, that it came into my head to say this. ‘No,’ replied Em’ly, shaking her head, ‘I’m afraid of the sea.’ ‘Afraid!’ I said, with a beng air of boldness, and lookig very big at the mighty ocean ‘ I an’t!’ ‘Ah! but it’s crue,’ said Em’ly. ‘I have seen it very crue to some of our me I have seen it tear a boat as big as our house, al to pieces.’ ‘I hope it was’t the boat that—’ ‘That father was drownded in?’ said Em’ly. ‘No. Not that on, I Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 55 never see that boat.’ ‘Nor him?’ I asked her. Little Em’ly shook her head. ‘Not to remeber!’ Here was a cocidence! I immediatey went into an explanati how I had never se my own father; and how my mothr and I had always lved by oursves in th happiest state imagiable, and lived so th, and alays meant to live so; and h my fathr’s grave was in th churchyard near our huse, and saded by a tree, beath the boughs of wh I had walked and heard the birds sg many a pleasant morng. But there were differenc between Em’ly’s orphanhood and m, it appeared. She had lt her mother before her father; and where r fathr’s grave was no o kn, except that it was somewre in th depth of th sea. ‘Besides,’ said Em’ly, as she looked about for shels and pebbles, ‘your fathr was a gentleman and your mothr is a lady; and my fathr was a fisherman and my mothr was a fisherman’s daughter, and my uncle Dan is a fisherman.’ ‘Dan is Mr. Peggotty, is he?’ said I. ‘Unc Dan—yoder,’ anered Em’ly, noddig at the boathouse ‘Yes. I mean him. He must be very god, I should thk?’ ‘Good?’ said Em’ly. ‘If I was ever to be a lady, I’d give him a skyblue coat with diamd buttons, nankeen trousers, a red velvet waistcoat, a cocked hat, a large gold watc, a silver pipe, and a box of moy.’ I said I had n doubt that Mr. Peggotty wel derved thes treasures. I must acknowledge that I felt it difficult to picture hi quite at his ease i th raiment propod for him by his grateful Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 56 lttle nie, and that I was particularly doubtful of the poy of the cocked hat; but I kept th sentiments to myself. Little Em’ly had stopped and looked up at the sky i her eumration of th arti, as if thy were a glrious vision. We wnt on again, picking up she and pebbl ‘You would like to be a lady?’ I said. Emily looked at me, and laughd and nodded ‘ye’. ‘I should like it very much. We would all be gentlefoks together, then. Me, and uncle, and Ham, and Mrs. Gumidge. We wuldn’t mid then, when there co stormy wather.—Not for our on sakes, I mean. We would for th poor fishermen’s, to be sure, and we’d help ’em with mony wh thy come to any hurt.’ This sed to me to be a very satisfactory and therefore nt at al improbable picture I expred my pleasure in th conteplation of it, and little Em’ly was emboded to say, shyly, ‘Do’t you think you are afraid of th sea, now?’ It was quiet enough to reasure me, but I have no doubt if I had se a moderately large wave come tumblng in, I should have take to my hee, with an awful rectio of her drowned relatis. Hover, I said ‘No,’ and I added, ‘You don’t se to be ether, though you say you are,’—for sh was walkig muc too nar the brik of a sort of old jetty or wooden causeway we had strolled upo, and I was afraid of her falling over. ‘I’m nt afraid i this way,’ said little Em’ly. ‘But I wake when it blows, and tremble to thk of Un Dan and Ham and beeve I hear ’e crying out for help. That’s why I should lke so muc to be a lady. But I’m not afraid in this way. Not a bit. Lok here!’ She started fro my side, and ran along a jagged tiber wich protruded from the place we stood upo, and overhung the deep Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 57 water at s height, without the least defen The indet i so impred o my remembrance, that if I were a draughtsan I could draw its form hre, I dare say, accurately as it was that day, and littl Em’ly spriging forward to her destruction (as it appeared to me), with a look that I have nver forgotten, directed far out to sea. The light, bod, fluttering lttle figure turned and cam back safe to me, and I soo laughd at my fears, and at th cry I had uttered; fruitlssly in any case, for thre was no on near. But there have been tim si, in my manhood, many tim there have be, when I have thought, Is it pobl, amg the pobitie of hidde things, that in the sudde rash of the child and her wid look so far off, thre was any mrciful attracti of her into danger, any tempting her towards him permtted on the part of her dead father, that her lfe mght have a can of edig that day? There has be a ti sie when I have wodered wthr, if th life before her could have be reveald to me at a glance, and so revealed as that a child could fuly coprend it, and if her preservation could have depended on a mtion of my hand, I ought to have held it up to save her. There has be a tim since—I do not say it lasted long, but it has be—whn I have asked mysf the question, would it have be better for lttle Em’ly to have had the waters close above her head that morning i my sight; and wh I have answered Yes, it would have be This may be preature I have set it dow to soo, perhaps. But let it stand. We strolled a long way, and loaded oursves wth things that w thught curius, and put some stranded starfish carefuly back ito the water—I hardly know enough of the rac at this mot Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 58 to be quite crtai whether they had reas to fee oblged to us for dog s, or the reverse—and then made our way home to Mr. Peggotty’s dwellg. We stopped under the lee of the lobsterouthuse to exchange an innocent kiss, and went in to breakfast glowing with health and plasure. ‘Like two young mavis,’ Mr. Peggotty said. I kn this ant, i our loal dialet, lke two young thrush, and recved it as a compliment. Of course I was i love with littl Em’ly. I am sure I loved that baby quite as truly, quite as tenderly, with greater purity and more diteretedn, than can enter into the bet love of a later tim f life, hgh and enobling as it is. I am sure my fancy raised up something round that blue-eyed mite of a child, which etherealzed, and made a very angel of her. If, any suny foren, she had spread a littl pair of wings and fln away before my eye, I don’t think I should have regarded it as muc more than I had had reas to expet. We usd to walk about that dim old flat at Yarmuth in a loving manr, hours and hours. The days sported by us, as if Tim had nt grown up himf yet, but were a cd too, and always at play. I told Em’ly I adored her, and that unss she confed she adored me I should be reduced to th necessity of killing myself wth a sword. She said she did, and I have no doubt she did. A to any sense of iequality, or youthfuln, or other difficulty in our way, littl Em’ly and I had no such troubl, becaus w had no future. We made no more provision for groing oder, than w did for growing younger. We were the admration of Mrs. Gummidge and Peggotty, wh usd to whisper of an eveg w sat, lovingly, on our littl locker side by side, ‘Lor! wasn’t it Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 59 beautiful!’ Mr. Peggotty smild at us fro bend his pipe, and Ham grind all the eveg and did nthing e They had something of th sort of pleasure in us, I suppose, that thy might have had in a pretty toy, or a poket mode of the Coloeum I soon found out that Mrs. Gumdge did not always make herself s agreeable as se mght have been expeted to do, under the crcumtanc of her resde with Mr. Peggotty. Mrs. Gummidge’s was rathr a fretful disposition, and she wimpered more sometimes than was comfortabl for othr parties in so smal an establit. I was very sorry for her; but there were mts when it would have be mre agreeable, I thought, if Mrs. Gumdge had had a cveniet apartment of her own to retire to, and had stopped thre unti her spirits revived. Mr. Peggotty went occasionally to a public-huse cald Th Willg Mid. I discvered this, by his being out on th second or third eveing of our visit, and by Mrs. Gumidge’s looking up at the Dutch clock, betwee eight and ni, and saying he was there, and that, what was more, she had knn in th morning h wuld go there Mrs. Gummidge had be in a low state all day, and had burst ito tears in the forenoon, when the fire smked. ‘I am a l lorn creetur’,’ wre Mrs. Gummidge’s words, wh that unpleasant occurree took place, ‘and everythik go cotrary with me.’ ‘Oh, it’ll soo leave off,’ said Peggotty—I agai mean our Peggotty—‘and bede, you know, it’s nt mre diagreeable to you than to us.’ ‘I feel it more,’ said Mrs. Gumidge It was a very cod day, with cutting blasts of wind. Mrs. Gummidge’s pecular cornr of th fireside seed to me to be th Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 60 warmt and snuggest in th place, as her chair was certainly th asiest, but it didn’t suit hr that day at all. She was constantly complaig of th cold, and of its occasioning a visitation in hr back which she called ‘th creps’. At last she shed tears o that subjet, and said again that she was ‘a lone lorn cretur’ and everythnk went contrary with her’. ‘It is certainy very cold,’ said Peggotty. ‘Everybody must fe it so.’ ‘I feel it more than othr peopl,’ said Mrs. Gummidge So at dinr; wh Mrs. Gummidge was alays hped idiatey after me, to whom the preferenc was give as a visitor of distinction. Th fish were small and bony, and th potatoes were a little burnt. We all acknowldged that we felt this something of a disappontment; but Mrs. Gumidge said she felt it more than w did, and shed tears again, and made that formr dearatin with great bitterne rdigly, when Mr. Peggotty cam home about ni o’cock, this unfortunate Mrs. Gummidge was knitting in her cornr, in a very wretched and miserabl condition. Peggotty had be rkig ceerfully. Ham had been patcg up a great pair of waterboots; and I, with little Em’ly by my sde, had be readig to them Mrs. Gumdge had never made any other remark than a forlorn sigh, and had nver raid her eye si tea. ‘Well, Mates,’ said Mr. Peggotty, takig his seat, ‘and h are you?’ We all said something, or looked something, to wlcom h, except Mrs. Gumdge, who only shook her head over her kntting. ‘What’s am?’ said Mr. Peggotty, with a clap of hi hands Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 61 ‘Cheer up, old Mawther!’ (Mr. Peggotty meant old girl) Mrs. Gumdge did nt appear to be abl to chr up. Sh took out an old black silk handkercf and wiped her eye; but istead of putting it in her pocket, kept it out, and wiped th again, and still kept it out, ready for us ‘What’s am, dam?’ said Mr. Peggotty. ‘Nothg,’ returned Mrs. Gumidge. ‘You’ve come fro Th Wig Mind, Dan’l?’ ‘Why yes, I’ve took a short spe at The Wig Mind tonight,’ said Mr. Peggotty. ‘I’m sorry I should drive you there,’ said Mrs. Gummidge. ‘Drive! I do’t want no drivig,’ returned Mr. Peggotty with an honest laugh. ‘I only go too ready.’ ‘Very ready,’ said Mrs. Gummidge, shaking hr had, and wiping hr eye. ‘Ye, yes, very ready. I am sorry it should be along of me that you’re so ready.’ ‘Alg o’ you! It an’t alg o’ you!’ said Mr. Peggotty. ‘Don’t ye beeve a bit on it.’ ‘Yes, yes, it is,’ cried Mrs. Gummidge. ‘I kn what I am I kn that I am a lone lorn cretur’, and not only that everythnk go trary with m, but that I go cotrary with everybody. Yes, yes I fe more than othr people do, and I sho it more. It’s my misfortun’.’ I realy couldn’t help thinkig, as I sat takig in all this, that the misfortune exteded to some othr members of that famly besides Mrs. Gumdge. But Mr. Peggotty made no suc retort, only anrig with another entreaty to Mrs. Gumdge to chr up. ‘I an’t what I could wish myself to be,’ said Mrs. Gumidge. ‘I am far from it. I know what I am My troubl has made m Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 62 contrary. I fe my troubles, and thy make me contrary. I wish I didn’t fe ’em, but I do. I wish I could be harded to ’em, but I an’t. I make th house unmfortabl I don’t wder at it. I’ve made your sister so all day, and Master Davy.’ Here I was suddenly melted, and roared out, ‘No, you haven’t, Mrs. Gummidge,’ in great mental distress. ‘It’s far fro right that I should do it,’ said Mrs. Gummidge. ‘It an’t a fit return. I had better go into the house and di I am a lo rn cretur’, and had muc better not make mysf cotrary here. If thinks must go contrary with me, and I must go contrary myself, lt me go cotrary in my paris Dan’l, I’d better go ito the house, and die and be a riddance!’ Mrs. Gumdge retired with thes words, and betook hersef to bed. Wh s was gone, Mr. Peggotty, who had not exhibited a trace of any feelg but the profoundest sympathy, looked round upo us, and nodding hi head with a lively expression of that sentiment still animating his face, said in a whisper: ‘She’s been thkig of the old ’un!’ I did nt quite understand what old on Mrs Gummidge was uppod to have fixed her mind upon, until Peggotty, on seg m to bed, explaid that it was the late Mr. Gumdge; and that her brother always took that for a receved truth on suc ccasis, and that it always had a moving effect upo hm. Some time after he was in his hammock that night, I heard him myself repeat to Ham, ‘Poor thing! Sh’s be thinkig of the old ’un!’ And whver Mrs. Gumdge was overcome in a similar manner during th remainder of our stay (wich happened some fe tim), he always said the sam thing in extenuati of the circumstance, and always with th tenderet comiseration. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 63 So th fortnight slipped away, varid by nothing but th variati of the tide, which altered Mr. Peggotty’s tim of going out and coming in, and altered Ham’s engagements also. Whe th atter was uneployed, he sotim walked with us to show us th boats and ships, and once or twice he tok us for a ro I don’t know wy o slight set of impresions should be more particularly associated wth a place than anthr, thugh I believe this obtais with most people, in reference especally to th asati of their chdhood. I nver hear the nam, or read the name, of Yarmuth, but I am reminded of a certain Sunday mrnig on the beach, the be ringig for church, little Em’ly leang on my shoulder, Ham lazily dropping sto into th ater, and th sun, away at sea, just breaking through th heavy mist, and shoing us th ships, like thr own shadows. At last the day cam for going home I bore up against the sparatio from Mr. Peggotty and Mrs. Gumdge, but my agony of mind at leavig littl Em’ly was pircing. We went arm-i-arm to th public-huse whre th carrir put up, and I proised, on the road, to write to her. (I reded that prom afterwards, in characters larger than th in wich apartmts are usually anuncd i manusript, as beg to let.) We were greatly overcome at parting; and if ever, in my life, I have had a void made in my heart, I had on made that day. Now, all th time I had bee on my visit, I had bee ungrateful to my home agai, and had thought little or nothing about it. But I was no soor turnd toards it, than my reproachful young conscice seed to poit that way with a ready finger; and I felt, all th more for th sinking of my spirits, that it was my nest, and that my mothr was my comforter and friend. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 64 This gaid upo me as we went alg; so that the narer we dre, th more familiar th objects became that we passed, th re excted I was to get there, and to run into her arm But Peggotty, intead of sharig in those tranports, tried to ck them (though very kidly), and looked cofused and out of sorts. Blundersto Rookery would come, hover, in spite of hr, wen the carrier’s hors pleasd—and did. How we I reect it, on a cod grey afternoon, with a dul sky, threateg rain! Th door oped, and I looked, half laughng and half crying in my pleasant agitation, for my mothr. It was not she, but a strange rvant. ‘Why, Peggotty!’ I said, ruefuly, ‘i’t she come hoe?’ ‘Yes, yes, Master Davy,’ said Peggotty. ‘She’s come home. Wait a bit, Master Davy, and I’ll—I’l tel you sothing.’ Betw her agitation, and her natural awkwardn in getting out of the cart, Peggotty was makig a mot extraordiary festoon of herself, but I felt too blank and strange to tell her s Wh s had got down, sh took m by the hand; led me, wonderig, ito the kitchen; and shut the door. ‘Peggotty!’ said I, quite frightend. ‘What’s the matter?’ ‘Nothng’s th matter, bls you, Master Davy dear!’ she answered, assuming an air of sprightline ‘Somethig’s the matter, I’m sure. Where’s mama?’ ‘Where’s mama, Master Davy?’ repeated Peggotty. ‘Ye Why has’t sh c out to the gate, and what have we come in here for? Oh, Peggotty!’ My eyes were ful, and I felt as if I were going to tumbl do ‘Bless th precious boy!’ cried Peggotty, taking hod of me. ‘What is it? Speak, my pet!’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 65 ‘Not dead, to! Oh, she’s not dead, Peggotty?’ Peggotty crid out No! with an astonig volum of voic; and then sat down, and began to pant, and said I had given her a turn. I gave her a hug to take away the turn, or to give her another turn in the right directin, and then stood before her, lokig at hr in anxius inquiry. ‘You see, dear, I should have told you before now,’ said Peggotty, ‘but I hadn’t an opportunity. I ought to have made it, perhaps, but I couldn’t azackly’—that was alays the substitute for exactly, in Peggotty’s mitia of words—‘bring my mid to it.’ ‘Go on, Peggotty,’ said I, more frightened than before ‘Master Davy,’ said Peggotty, untying her bonnet with a shakig hand, and speakig in a breathles sort of way. ‘What do you think? You have got a Pa!’ I trembld, and turned white Sothing—I do’t know what, or how—connted with the grave i the curchyard, and the raising of th dead, seed to strike me like an un wind. ‘A ne one,’ said Peggotty. ‘A ne one?’ I repeated. Peggotty gave a gasp, as if sh were sallwing sthing that was very hard, and, putting out her hand, said: ‘Come and see him’ ‘I don’t want to see him.’ —‘And your mama,’ said Peggotty. I ceased to draw back, and we went straight to th best parlur, were she left me. On one side of the fire, sat my mther; on th other, Mr. Murdstone My mother dropped her work, and arose hurriedly, but timdly I thought. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 66 ‘No, Clara my dear,’ said Mr. Murdstoe. ‘Recolct! cotro yoursf, always ctrol yoursf! Davy boy, how do you do?’ I gave him my hand. After a moment of suspe, I went and kissed my mothr: she kissd me, patted me gently o th houlder, and sat down again to her work. I culd not look at her, I culd nt look at him, I knew quite well that he was lookig at us both; and I turned to the window and looked out there, at s rubs that were droopig their heads in the cod. As soo as I could crep away, I crept upstairs. My od dear bedro was changed, and I was to lie a long way off. I rambled dowstairs to find anythng that was like itself, so altered it al eemed; and roamed ito the yard. I very soon started back from there, for the empty dog-ke was fild up with a great dog— deep mouthd and black-haired like Him—and he was very angry at the sight of me, and sprang out to get at me Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 67 Chapter 4 I FALL INTO DISGRACE I f th ro to which my bed was removed were a sntient thing that could give evide, I might appeal to it at this day—who seeps there no, I woder!—to bear witn for m what a heavy heart I carried to it. I went up there, hearig the dog in the yard bark after m al the way whil I clbed the stairs; and, looking as blank and strange upo th ro as th room looked upon m, sat down with my small hands crossd, and thought. I thought of the oddet things. Of the shape of the room, of the cracks in th ceig, of th paper on th wals, of th flaws i th ndow-glass making ripples and dimples on th propect, of th ashing-stand beg rickety on its thre legs, and having a disconteted something about it, which reminded me of Mrs Gumdge under the influence of the old one. I was cryig al th time, but, except that I was coscious of beg cod and dejected, I am sure I never thught why I cried. At last in my desolati I began to cder that I was dreadfully in lve with little Em’ly, and had be torn away from her to co here where n one d to want me, or to care about me, half as muc as sh did. This made such a very miserabl piece of business of it, that I rolled myself up in a cornr of th counterpan, and cried myself to sleep. I was awoke by somebody saying ‘Here he is!’ and unvering my ht had. My mothr and Peggotty had come to look for me, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 68 and it was one of them who had do it. ‘Davy,’ said my mother. ‘What’s the matter?’ I thought it was very strange that s should ask me, and anered, ‘Nothig.’ I turned over on my fac, I reect, to hide y tremblg lp, which ansred her with greater truth. ‘Davy,’ said my mother. ‘Davy, my child!’ I dare say no words she could have uttered wuld have affected me so much, th, as her calg me her chid. I hd my tears i th bedcloth, and pressed her fro me with my hand, w she uld have raised me up. ‘This is your doig, Peggotty, you cruel thing!’ said my mothr. ‘I have no doubt at al about it. Ho can you rencil it to your conscice, I woder, to prejudice my own boy against m, or against anybody wh is dear to me? What do you mean by it, Peggotty?’ Poor Peggotty lfted up her hands and eyes, and ony anered, in a sort of paraphrase of th grace I usually repeated after dir, ‘Lord forgive you, Mrs. Copperfield, and for wat you have said this miute, may you never be truly sorry!’ ‘It’s enugh to distract me,’ cried my mothr. ‘In my honeymoon, too, when my mt inveterate enemy might relet, o would thk, and not envy me a littl peace of mind and happi Davy, you naughty boy! Peggotty, you savage creature! Oh, dear me!’ cried my mothr, turning fro on of us to th other, in her pettis wilful manner, ‘what a troublese world this is, wh on has th most right to expect it to be as agreabl as possibl!’ I felt the touch of a hand that I knew was nther hers nor Peggotty’s, and sipped to my fet at th bed-side. It was Mr. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 69 Murdstone’s hand, and he kept it on my arm as he said: ‘What’s this? Clara, my love, have you forgotten?—Firmnes, my dear!’ ‘I am very sorry, Edward,’ said my mother. ‘I meant to be very good, but I am so unfortable.’ ‘Indeed!’ he answered. ‘That’s a bad hearig, so soo, Clara.’ ‘I say it’s very hard I should be made so nw,’ returned my mothr, pouting; ‘and it is—very hard—isn’t it?’ He dre hr to him, whispered in her ear, and kissd her. I kn as well, when I saw my mother’s head lan down upo hi houlder, and her arm touch hi nek—I knew as well that he could mould her plant nature into any form he cho, as I know, now, that he did it. ‘Go you bew, my lve,’ said Mr. Murdstone ‘David and I will down, together. My fried,’ turnig a darkeg fac on Peggotty, w h had watcd my mothr out, and dismissed her wth a nod and a smile; ‘do you know your mistre’s name?’ ‘She has be my mistress a long time, sir,’ answered Peggotty, ‘I ought to kn it.’ ‘That’s true,’ he answered. ‘But I thught I hard you, as I came upstairs, address her by a name that is not hrs. She has taken mine, you kn. Wi you remember that?’ Peggotty, wth some unasy glances at me, curtseyed hersf out of the room without replying; seg, I suppose, that sh was xpected to go, and had no excuse for reaiing. Whe w tw were left alone, he shut the door, and sitting on a chair, and hding me standing before him, looked steadily into my eye. I felt my own attracted, no less steadily, to his. As I recal our beig opposed thus, face to face, I see again to hear my heart beat fast Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 70 and high ‘David,’ h said, making hs lips thin, by preng th together, ‘if I have an obstiate horse or dog to deal with, what do you think I do?’ ‘I don’t kn.’ ‘I beat him.’ I had answered in a kind of breathles wisper, but I felt, in my silence, that my breath was shorter now ‘I make him wi, and smart. I say to myself, “I’ll conquer that fellw”; and if it were to cot him al the blood he had, I should do it. What is that upo your face?’ ‘Dirt,’ I said. He kn it was th mark of tears as we as I. But if he had asked the question twenty tim, eac tim with twenty blows, I believe my baby heart would have burst before I would have tod hi so ‘You have a good deal of intelligence for a little felw,’ he said, with a grave sm that beged to him, ‘and you understood m very we, I see. Wash that face, sir, and come dow with me.’ He poted to the wasg-stand, whic I had made out to be ke Mrs. Gumdge, and mtioned me with his head to obey him directly. I had lttle doubt then, and I have le doubt now, that he wuld have knked me dow withut th least compunction, if I had hesitated. ‘Clara, my dear,’ he said, wh I had done his bidding, and h walked me ito the parlour, with his hand stil on my arm; ‘you wll not be made unmfortabl any more, I hope We shall soo prove our youthful humours.’ God help m, I might have been iproved for my whole lfe, I Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 71 mght have be made another creature perhaps, for life, by a kind word at that season A wrd of euraget and explanation, of pity for my childish ignoran, of welcom ho, of reasuranc to me that it was home, might have made me dutiful to him in my heart henceforth, instead of in my hypocritical utside, and might have made me respect instead of hate him. I thought my mther was srry to se me standig in the room so scared and strange, and that, pretly, wh I sto to a chair, she followd me with her eye more sorrofully still—missing, perhaps, some fredo in my chidish tread—but th word was t spoke, and the tim for it was gon We did alone, we three together. He seemed to be very fond of my mother—I am afraid I lked him no the better for that— and she was very fond of him I gathered from what they said, that an eder sister of his was comng to stay with th, and that she as expeted that evenig. I am nt certai wether I found out then, or afterwards, that, without beg actively crned i any business, h had some share in, or some annual charge upo th profits of, a wi-mrchant’s house in London, with which hi famy had be conneted from his great-grandfather’s tim, and in which his sister had a similar interest; but I may mention it i this place, whthr or no. fter dinner, when we were sitting by the fire, and I was ditating an escape to Peggotty without having the hardihood to slip away, lest it should offed th master of th huse, a coac drove up to th garde-gate and he went out to receive th visitor. My mothr followd him. I was timidly followng her, w she turned round at the parlour door, in the dusk, and takig me i r embrace as she had bee usd to do, wispered me to love my Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 72 ne fathr and be obedient to him. She did th hurridly and sretly, as if it were wrong, but tenderly; and, putting out her hand behnd her, held mine in it, until we came near to wre h as standig in the garde, where she let m go, and drew hers through his arm It was Mis Murdstone who was arrived, and a gloomy-lookig lady se was; dark, lke her brother, whom she greatly resebld in face and voice; and with very heavy eyebro, nearly meeting over her large no, as if, beg diabld by the wrongs of her sex fro waring whiskers, she had carrid th to that account. She brought with her two uncpromig hard black boxes, with her initial on th lds in hard brass nais. Whe she paid th achman se took her moy out of a hard steel purse, and sh kept the purse in a very jai of a bag which hung upon her arm by a heavy chain, and shut up like a bite I had never, at that time, se such a metal lady altogethr as Miss Murdsto was. Sh was brought into the parlour with many toke of wel, and thre formally regnized my mothr as a ne and near reati. Th she lked at me, and said: ‘Is that your boy, sister-in-law?’ My mothr acknowledged me. ‘Genrally speakig,’ said Miss Murdsto, ‘I don’t like boys How d’ye do, boy?’ Under th euragig circumstances, I replied that I was very we, and that I hoped she was the sam; wth suc an indifferent grace, that Miss Murdsto disposed of me i tw words: ‘Wants maner!’ Having uttered whic, with great dititn, s begged the Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 73 favour of beg shown to her room, whic beam to m from that ti forth a place of awe and dread, wherein the two black boxes wre never see ope or knn to be left unlocked, and wre (for I peeped in once or twice wh she was out) numerous littl ste fetters and rivets, with whic Mis Murdstone embehed hersef w she was dressed, geraly hung upo th looking-glass in formidabl array. As we as I could make out, she had come for god, and had no itenti of ever going again Sh began to ‘hp’ my mther nxt mrnig, and was in and out of the store-coset all day, putting things to rights, and makig havoc in the old arrangets. t the first remarkabl thing I obsrved i Mi Murdstone as, hr beg constantly haunted by a suspicion that th servants had a man sreted sere on the premi. Under th influence of this delusion, she dived into th coal-car at th most untiy hours, and scarcy ever opened the door of a dark cupboard withut clapping it to again, in th belief that she had got him Though there was nothing very airy about Mis Murdstone, sh was a perfect Lark i pot of getting up. Sh was up (and, as I beve to this hour, lookig for that man) before anybody in the huse was stirring. Peggotty gave it as her opinion that she eve slept wth o eye ope; but I could not concur in this idea; for I tried it mysf after hearig the suggesti thrown out, and found it couldn’t be done On the very first mornig after her arrival s was up and ringing hr be at cock-cro Whe my mothr came dow to breakfast and was going to make the tea, Mis Murdstone gave her a kind of peck on th chek, which was her nearet approach to a Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 74 kiss, and said: ‘No, Clara, my dear, I am come hre, you kn, to reeve you of all the troubl I can You’re muc too pretty and thoughtle’— my mothr blusd but laughd, and seed not to dislke this character—‘to have any duti imposed upo you that can be undertake by me If you’ll be so good as give m your keys, my dear, I’l attend to al this sort of thing in future.’ Fro that time, Miss Murdsto kept th keys in hr on lttl jail all day, and under her pi all night, and my mothr had no mre to do with them than I had. My mother did not suffer her authority to pas from her without a sadow of protest. On nght when Mis Murdstone had be developig crtai household plan to her brother, of whic he signifid his approbation, my mothr suddenly began to cry, and said sh thought sh might have be consulted. ‘Cara!’ said Mr. Murdstone sterny. ‘Clara! I wonder at you.’ ‘Oh, it’s very we to say you woder, Edward!’ cried my mother, ‘and it’s very wel for you to talk about firmn, but you wouldn’t like it yourself.’ Firmss, I may observe, was th grand quality on which both Mr. and Miss Murdsto tok thr stand. Hover I mght have xpressed my comprension of it at that time, if I had be cald upo, I neverthless did clearly comprend in my own way, that it was another nam for tyrany; and for a crtai gloomy, arrogant, devil’s humour, that was in them both. The cred, as I should state it now, was th. Mr. Murdsto was firm; nobody in world was to be so firm as Mr. Murdstone; nobody e in h world was to be firm at al, for everybody was to be bet to his firm. Mi Murdsto was an exception She might be firm, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 75 but only by relatiship, and in an inferir and tributary degre My mothr was anothr exception She might be firm, and must be; but ony in bearig their firmn, and firmly bevig there was no other firmn upon earth. ‘It’s very hard,’ said my mother, ‘that in my ow house—’ ‘My own house?’ repeated Mr. Murdstone ‘Clara!’ ‘Our own house, I mean,’ faltered my mother, evidetly frightened—‘I hope you must know what I mean, Edward—it’s very hard that in your own house I may not have a word to say about domestic matters. I am sure I managed very well before w re married. There’s evide,’ said my mother, sobbig; ‘ask Peggotty if I didn’t do very we when I was’t interfered with!’ ‘Edward,’ said Miss Murdsto, ‘let thre be an end of this. I go tomorrow.’ ‘Jan Murdstone,’ said her brother, ‘be sit! How dare you to iuate that you do’t know my character better than your wrds imply?’ ‘I am sure,’ my poor mother wet on, at a grievous diadvantage, and with many tears, ‘I do’t want anybody to go. I should be very mirabl and unhappy if anybody was to go. I don’t ask much. I am not unreasable. I only want to be consulted sometimes. I am very much obliged to anybody w assists me, and I only want to be consulted as a mere form, stim I thought you were plasd, on, with my beg a littl inxpericed and girlish, Edward—I am sure you said so— but you seem to hate me for it n, you are so severe.’ ‘Edward,’ said Mi Murdstone, agai, ‘let there be an ed of this I go tomorrow.’ ‘Jan Murdstone,’ thundered Mr. Murdstone ‘Wi you be Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 76 silent? Ho dare you?’ Miss Murdsto made a jai-deivery of hr pockethandkerchief, and held it before her eyes. ‘Clara,’ he continued, loking at my mother, ‘you surprise me! You astound m! Yes, I had a satisfaction in the thought of marrying an inxpericed and artls pers, and forming hr character, and infusing into it some amunt of that firmss and decision of wich it stod in need. But wh Jan Murdsto is kind eough to c to my astanc i this endeavour, and to assume, for my sake, a condition something lke a husekeeper’s, and when she meets with a bas return—’ ‘Oh, pray, pray, Edward,’ cried my mother, ‘don’t accuse me of beg ungrateful. I am sure I am not ungrateful. No one ever said I was before. I have many faults, but nt that. Oh, don’t, my dear!’ ‘When Jane Murdsto meets, I say,’ he went on, after waiting until my mother was sit, ‘wth a bas return, that feeg of mine is chilled and altered.’ ‘Do’t, my love, say that!’ implored my mothr very piteusly. ‘Oh, don’t, Edward! I can’t bear to hear it. Whatever I am, I am affectionate. I kn I am affectionate. I wouldn’t say it, if I wasn’t sure that I am Ak Peggotty. I am sure s’ll tel you I’m affectionate.’ ‘Thre is no extent of mere weakness, Clara,’ said Mr. Murdsto in reply, ‘that can have th least wight wth me. You lse breath.’ ‘Pray lt us be friends,’ said my mother, ‘I couldn’t lve under coldness or unkidne. I am so sorry. I have a great many defects, I know, and it’s very good of you, Edward, with your strength of mnd, to endeavour to correct them for me Jan, I do’t object to Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 77 anything. I should be quite broken-hearted if you thought of lavig—’ My mother was too muc overc to go on. ‘Jan Murdstone,’ said Mr. Murdstone to his siter, ‘any harsh words betwee us are, I hope, unn. It is not my fault that s unusual an occurrence has take place tonight. I was betrayed into it by anthr. Nor is it your fault. You were betrayed into it by another. Let us both try to forget it. And as this,’ he added, after thes magnanous words, ‘i not a fit sc for the boy—David, go to bed!’ I could hardly find the door, through th tears that stood i my eye. I was so sorry for my mothr’s distress; but I groped my way out, and groped my way up to my room in the dark, without eve having the heart to say good night to Peggotty, or to get a candl from her. When her cog up to look for me, an hour or so afterwards, awoke me, she said that my mothr had go to bed poorly, and that Mr. and Mis Murdstone were sitting alone Gog do next mrnig rather earlir than usual, I pausd outside the parlour door, on hearig my mother’s voic She was very earnetly and humbly entreating Mis Murdstone’s pardon, wich that lady granted, and a perfet renciliati tok place. I nver kn my mother afterwards to give an opi on any matter, wthut first appealg to Miss Murdsto, or withut having first ascertained by some sure means, what Miss Murdsto’s opiion was; and I never saw Miss Murdsto, w out of temper (she was infirm that way), move her hand towards her bag as if sh were going to take out the keys and offer to resgn them to my mther, without sg that my mother was in a terribl fright. The gloomy tait that was i the Murdstone blood, darked Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 78 the Murdstone region, wh was austere and wrathful. I have thught, since, that its assumng that character was a necesary conseque of Mr. Murdsto’s firmss, which wouldn’t allow to lt anybody off from the utmot weight of the severest penalties he could fid any excuse for. Be this as it may, I we rember the tremdous visages with whic we used to go to church, and th changed air of th place. Again, th dreaded Sunday comes round, and I file into th old pew first, like a guarded captive brought to a conded service. Again, Mi Murdsto, in a black velvet go, that looks as if it had bee made out of a pall, fos clos upo me; th my mothr; th her husband. There is n Peggotty now, as in the old tim Agai, I liste to Miss Murdsto mumbling th responses, and ephasizing al th dread wrds wth a crue relish. Again, I see her dark eyes ro round the curc wen se says ‘mirabl sinners’, as if she were calling all th congregati names. Again, I catch rare glips of my mther, moving her lips timdly betwee the two, with one of them muttering at eac ear like low thunder. Again, I woder with a sudden fear whthr it is likely that our good old clrgyman can be wrong, and Mr. and Mis Murdstone right, and that all the angel in Heave can be detroying angels. Again, if I move a finger or relax a muscle of my face, Mi Murdsto pokes me with her prayer-bok, and makes my side ache Yes, and again, as we walk ho, I note some neighbours lookig at my mothr and at me, and whispering. Again, as th thre go on arm-in-arm, and I linger behnd alon, I follow some of those looks, and wder if my mother’s step be realy not so light as I have see it, and if th gaiety of her beauty be really almost Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 79 wrrid away. Again, I wonder whthr any of th neighbours call to mid, as I do, how we used to walk home together, s and I; and I wonder stupidly about that, all th dreary dismal day. There had be s talk on ocasns of my going to boardig-school. Mr. and Mis Murdstone had origiated it, and my mther had of cours agreed with them. Nothg, however, was concluded on the subjet yet. In the mantim, I learnt l at home. Shal I ever forget those leons! They were presided over nominally by my mothr, but really by Mr. Murdsto and his sister, wh were always pret, and found them a favourabl occason for giving my mother lons in that miscalled firmss, wich was th bane of both our lives. I believe I was kept at home for that purpose. I had be apt enough to learn, and wiing enugh, wh my mothr and I had lived alon together. I can faitly rember larng the alphabet at her kn To this day, when I look upon the fat black ltters i the primer, th puzzling novelty of thr shapes, and th easy godnature of O and Q and S, s to pret themve agai before m as they used to do But they recal no feeg of digust or reluctan On the cotrary, I se to have walked along a path of flowers as far as the crocodie-book, and to have be ceered by the gentl of my mother’s voic and manner all the way. But th solem lessons which succeeded th, I remember as th death-blow of my peace, and a grievous daily drudgery and mry. They were very log, very numrous, very hard—perfectly unitelgible, so of them, to m—and I was genrally as muc bedered by them as I beeve my poor mther was herself. Let me remember ho it usd to be, and bring on morning back again. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 80 I co into the snd-bet parlour after breakfast, with my books, and an exerc-book, and a slate. My mther i ready for m at her writig-dek, but not half so ready as Mr. Murdstone in easy-chair by the window (though he pretends to be readig a bok), or as Miss Murdsto, sitting near my mothr stringig steel beads The very sight of the two has suc an influence over m, that I begi to fee the words I have be at ifite pai to get into my head, al sldig away, and going I do’t know where I wder where they do go, by the by? I hand the first book to my mother. Perhaps it is a gramar, perhaps a history, or geography. I take a last drownig look at the page as I give it into her hand, and start off aloud at a racing pace while I have got it fresh. I trip over a word. Mr. Murdstone looks up. I trip over another word. Mis Murdstone looks up. I redden, tumbl over half-a-dozen words, and stop. I think my mther wuld sho me th book if she dared, but she doe not dare, and she says softly: ‘Oh, Davy, Davy!’ ‘No, Clara,’ says Mr. Murdstoe, ‘be firm with the boy. Don’t say, “Oh, Davy, Davy!” That’s chdi He knows his leon, or he does not kn it.’ ‘He do not know it,’ Mis Murdstone iterpose awfully. ‘I am realy afraid he doe not,’ says my mother. ‘Then, you s, Clara,’ returns Mis Murdstone, ‘you should just give him th book back, and make him know it.’ ‘Yes, certaiy,’ says my mother; ‘that is wat I inted to do, my dear Jan. No, Davy, try once more, and don’t be stupid.’ I obey the first claus of the injuntio by trying once more, but am not so sucssful with th secod, for I am very stupid. I Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 81 tumbl down before I get to the old plac, at a pot where I was al right before, and stop to think. But I can’t think about the lesson. I thk of th number of yards of net in Miss Murdsto’s cap, or of th price of Mr. Murdsto’s dressing-gon, or any such ridiculous problem that I have no busine with, and don’t want to ave anythng at all to do with Mr. Murdsto makes a movement of impatice which I have be expectig for a long time. Miss Murdsto doe th same. My mothr glances submissivey at th, shuts th book, and lays it by as an arrear to be wrked out when my other tasks are do There is a pi of the arrears very soon, and it sell like a rollg snowball The bigger it gets, the more stupid I get. The cas is so hopes, and I fe that I am waling i such a bog of n, that I give up all idea of getting out, and abando mysf to my fate. Th despairing way in wh my mothr and I look at eac other, as I blunder on, is truly melancholy. But the greatest effect in th miserabl lesson is wh my mothr (thnking nbody i observing her) trie to give me the cue by the motion of hr lips. At that instant, Miss Murdsto, wh has be lyig in ait for nothing el all along, says in a deep warng voice: ‘Clara!’ My mothr starts, colours, and smil faitly. Mr. Murdsto mes out of his chair, takes th bok, thro it at me or boxes my ears with it, and turns me out of the room by the shoulders Even wen the lons are do, the worst is yet to happe, in th shape of an appaling sum. Th is invented for me, and devered to me oraly by Mr. Murdstone, and begi, ‘If I go into a ceesemonger’s shop, and buy five thousand double-Gluceter che at fourpence-halfpeny each, pret paymt’—at which Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 82 I see Mi Murdstone sretly overjoyed. I pore over the ceeses without any result or enghtenmet until dir-tim, when, having made a Mulatto of mysf by getting the dirt of the sate into th pores of my skin, I have a slice of bread to hlp me out wth th che, and am considered in disgrace for th rest of th evenig. It ses to me, at this distance of time, as if my unfortunate studies geraly tok this course. I could have done very well if I had be without the Murdstone; but the influen of the Murdsto upo me was like th fascinati of tw snakes o a wretced young bird. Even when I did get through the morng with tolerabl credit, there was nt muc gaind but dinner; for Miss Murdsto never could endure to see me untasked, and if I rasy made any show of beg unemployed, cald her brother’s attention to me by saying, ‘Clara, my dear, thre’s nothg like wrk—give your boy an exercise’; which causd me to be clapped down to s nw labour, there and then A to any recreatio with other chdren of my age, I had very little of that; for the gloomy theogy of the Murdstone made al chdre out to be a sarm of little vipers (though there was a chid once set in th midst of th Disciples), and hed that thy contaminated on another. The natural result of this treatmet, ctiued, I suppose, for some six month or more, was to make me sullen, dul, and dogged. I was nt made the le s by my s of beg daiy more and more shut out and alienated fro my mothr. I belve I should have be almost stupefied but for on circumstance. It was this. My fathr had left a small colti of boks i a littl ro upstairs, to wich I had access (for it adjod my own) Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 83 and whic nobody else in our house ever troubled. From that bld lttle room, Roderik Random, Peregri Pickl, Humphrey Cliker, To Jo, the Vicar of Wakefied, Don Quixote, Gi Blas, and Robi Crusoe, cam out, a glorious host, to keep me company. Thy kept alive my fancy, and my hpe of sthing beyond that place and tim,—they, and the Arabian Nights, and the Tale of the Ge,—and did me no harm; for watever harm was in so of them was not there for m; I knew nthing of it. It is astonisg to me nw, how I found tim, i the midst of my porings and blunderings over heavier th, to read those books as I did. It i curious to me how I could ever have consold myself under my sal troubl (wich were great troubl to me), by impersatig my favourite characters i them—as I did—and by putting Mr. and Mis Murdstone into al th bad o—wich I did to I have bee Tom Jos (a child’s Tom Jone, a harml creature) for a week together. I have sustained my own idea of Roderick Rando for a month at a stretch, I verily believe I had a greedy relis for a few volum of Voyages and Traves—I forget wat, now—that were on th ves; and for days and days I can remmber to have gone about my region of our house, armd with the cetre-pi out of an old st of boot-trees—the perfect realzatio of Captai Sobody, of th Royal British Navy, in danger of beg bet by savages, and resolved to sel his life at a great price. Th Captain never lost dignity, fro having his ears boxed with th Latin Grammar. I did; but th Captain was a Captain and a hro, in despite of all th gramars of all the languages in the world, dead or alve This was my only and my constant comfort. Whe I thk of it, th picture always ris in my mind, of a summer eveing, th Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 84 boys at play in th churchyard, and I sitting on my bed, reading as if for life. Every barn in the nghbourhood, every stone i the church, and every fot of th churchyard, had some assocation of its on, i my mind, conneted with th books, and stod for some locality made famous in th. I have se Tom Pipes go bing up the church-steeple; I have watched Strap, with the knapsack on his back, stopping to rest hf upo th wketgate; and I know that Codore Trunn held that club with Mr. Pickl, in the parlour of our little village alehouse The reader now understands, as wel as I do, what I was when I came to that poit of my youthful history to wich I am now ming again. On mrnig when I went into the parlour with my books, I found my mther lookig anxious, Mis Murdstone lookig firm, and Mr. Murdstone bindig sothing round the bottom of a cane—a lith and limber cane, which he left off binding wh I came in, and poised and switched in th air. ‘I tel you, Cara,’ said Mr. Murdsto, ‘I have be often flgged myself.’ ‘To be sure; of course,’ said Mi Murdsto ‘Certainly, my dear Jane,’ faltered my mothr, meekly. ‘But— but do you think it did Edward good?’ ‘Do you think it did Edward harm, Clara?’ asked Mr. Murdstone, gravey. ‘That’s th point,’ said his sister. To this my mother returned, ‘Crtaiy, my dear Jane,’ and said no more I felt appreve that I was persally interested in this dialogue, and sought Mr. Murdstone’s eye as it lghted on mi Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 85 ‘Now, David,’ he said—and I saw that cast again as he said it— ‘you must be far mre careful today than usual.’ He gave the can anothr poise, and anothr switch; and having finished h preparation of it, laid it dow bede him, wth an ipresive look, and took up his book. This was a god frer to my prece of mind, as a begig. I felt th words of my less slipping off, not on by one, or li by li, but by the entire page; I tried to lay hold of th; but thy seed, if I may so expres it, to have put skate on, and to ski away from m with a smoothnes there was no cheking. We began badly, and went on wors I had come in with an idea of distiguishig myself rathr, conceiving that I was very w prepared; but it turned out to be quite a mtake Book after book was added to the heap of faiures, Mis Murdstone beg firmly watchful of us all the tim And when we cam at last to the five thusand che (canes h made it that day, I remember), my mther burst out crying. ‘Cara!’ said Mis Murdsto, in her warnig voic ‘I am nt quite we, my dear Jan, I thk,’ said my mother. I saw hm wik, solemnly, at his sister, as he ro and said, taking up th cane: ‘Why, Jan, we can hardly expect Clara to bear, wth perfect firmn, the worry and tormet that David has occasd her today. That would be stoical. Clara is greatly strengthd and improved, but w can hardly expect so much fro her. David, you and I wi go upstairs, boy.’ A he took me out at the door, my mother ran towards us. Mis Murdstone said, ‘Clara! are you a perfect fool?’ and iterfered. I Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 86 saw my mothr stop her ears th, and I heard her crying. He walked me up to my ro sly and gravey—I am crtai he had a delight in that formal parade of exeuting justi—and w we got thre, suddenly twisted my head under his arm. ‘Mr. Murdsto! Sir!’ I cried to him. ‘Do’t! Pray don’t beat me! I have tried to learn, sir, but I can’t learn wile you and Miss Murdstone are by. I can’t inded!’ ‘Can’t you, indeed, David?’ he said. ‘We’l try that.’ He had my head as in a vice, but I twd round him someh, and stopped him for a momnt, entreating him not to beat me. It was oly a moment that I stopped him, for he cut me heavily an itant afterwards, and i the sam itant I caught the hand with w h hed me in my mouth, betw my teth, and bit it through. It sets my teeth on edge to think of it. He beat me then, as if he would have beaten me to death Above al the no we made, I heard them runnig up the stairs, and crying out—I heard my mther crying out—and Peggotty. Then he was go; and th door was locked outside; and I was lying, fevered and hot, and torn, and sore, and raging in my puny way, upon the floor. How wel I rect, when I beam quiet, what an unnatural stillns seed to reign through th wh house! Ho wll I remember, w my smart and passion began to coo, ho wicked I began to fee! I sat listeing for a long wh, but thre was not a sound. I crawled up fro th flr, and saw my face i th glass, so swollen, red, and ugly that it almost frighted me. My stripes re sore and stiff, and made me cry afresh, wh I moved; but they were nthing to the guilt I felt. It lay heavir on my breast Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 87 than if I had be a most atrocious criminal, I dare say. It had begun to grow dark, and I had shut the window (I had be lyig, for the mot part, with my head upon the s, by turns crying, dozing, and looking listlssly out), wh th key was turnd, and Miss Murdsto came in with some bread and meat, and mk. Thes s put down upon the table without a word, glarig at me the whil with exeplary firmn, and then retired, lkig the door after her. Long after it was dark I sat there, wonderig whether anybody e wuld come. Whe this appeared improbabl for that night, I undressed, and went to bed; and, thre, I began to wnder fearfully what would be done to me. Whethr it was a criminal act that I had ctted? Whether I should be taken into custody, and sent to prison? Whethr I was at al in danger of being hanged? I never shall forget th waking, next morng; th beig ceerful and fresh for the first mot, and then the beg wighd dow by th stal and dismal oppre of rembrance Mis Murdstone reappeared before I was out of bed; told me, in so many words, that I was free to walk i the garde for half an hour and n loger; and retired, lavig the door ope, that I might avail myself of that permssion. I did so, and did so every morng of my imprisonment, which lasted five days. If I could have seen my mther alone, I should have gone down o my knees to her and beught her forgivenes; but I saw no on, Miss Murdsto excepted, during th w ti—except at evenig prayers i the parlour; to wh I was rted by Mi Murdstone after everybody els was placd; wre I was stationed, a young outlaw, al al by myself near th Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 88 door; and wce I was solemly conducted by my jair, before any one arose from the devotional poture. I only obsrved that my mothr was as far off fro me as she could be, and kept hr fac another way so that I never saw it; and that Mr. Murdstone’s and was bound up in a large linen wrapper. Th length of th five days I can convey no idea of to any on Thy occupy th place of years in my remembran Th way in wich I listed to all th incidents of th huse that made themsves audible to m; the rigig of be, the openig and shutting of doors, th murmuring of voices, th fotsteps o th stairs; to any laughng, whistlng, or singig, outside, wich sed more dismal than anythng e to me in my soltude and disgrace—th uncertain pace of th hours, especally at night, when I would wake thinkig it was mrnig, and find that the famy were not yet gone to bed, and that all the lgth of nght had yet to come—th depred dream and nightmare I had— the return of day, noon, afternoon, eveg, when the boys played in th churchyard, and I watcd th fro a distance within th room, beg asamd to show mysf at the window lest they should kn I was a prisoner—th strange sensation of never hearig mysf speak—the fletig iterval of sthing lke cherfulnes, which came with eating and driking, and wnt away with it—th setting in of rain on eveing, wth a fre smel, and its coming dow faster and faster betw m and th church, until it and gatherig nght sed to quen me in gloom, and fear, and remors—all this appears to have go round and round for years itead of days, it is so vividly and strongly stamped on y rembrance On the last nght of my restrait, I was awakened by hearig my own name spoken in a whisper. I started Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 89 up in bed, and puttig out my arm in the dark, said: ‘Is that you, Peggotty?’ There was no imdiate aner, but prestly I heard my name again, in a to so very mysterious and awful, that I thk I should have gone ito a fit, if it had nt occurred to me that it must have co through the keyhole. I groped my way to the door, and putting my own lips to the keyh, whispered: ‘Is that you, Peggotty dear?’ ‘Yes, my ow precious Davy,’ she replid. ‘Be as soft as a muse, or the Cat’l hear us.’ I understod this to mean Mi Murdsto, and was sensible of the urgency of the cas; her room beg close by. ‘How’s mama, dear Peggotty? Is she very angry with me?’ I could hear Peggotty crying softly on her side of the keyhole, as I was doig on min, before she answered. ‘No Not very.’ ‘What is going to be do with me, Peggotty dear? Do you know?’ ‘School. Near London,’ was Peggotty’s aner. I was oblged to get her to repeat it, for sh spoke it the first tim quite down my throat, i cnsequen of my having forgotten to take my muth away from the keyhole and put my ear there; and though her wrds tickled me a god deal, I didn’t hear th ‘When, Peggotty?’ ‘Tomorrow.’ ‘Is that the reason why Mis Murdstone took the clothes out of my drawers?’ which she had done, thugh I have forgotten to mention it. ‘Yes,’ said Peggotty. ‘Box.’ ‘Shan’t I see mama?’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 90 ‘Yes,’ said Peggotty. ‘Morng.’ Then Peggotty fitted her mouth close to the keyhole, and devered thes words through it with as muc feeg and earntn as a keyhole has ever be the medium of cunating, I will venture to asrt: shooting in eac broken littl sente in a convulve littl burst of its own. ‘Davy, dear. If I ain’t bee azackly as intimate wth you. Lately, as I usd to be. It ain’t becaus I don’t love you. just as wll and mre, my pretty poppet. It’s beaus I thought it better for you. And for someo el besides. Davy, my darling, are you listeg? Can you hear?’ ‘Ye-ye-ye-yes, Peggotty!’ I sobbed. ‘My own!’ said Peggotty, with infinte copasson. ‘What I want to say, is That you must nver forget me For I’l never forget you. Ad I’l take as muc care of your mama, Davy. As ever I tok of you. And I wo’t leave her. The day may c wen se’ll be glad to lay her poor head. On her stupid, cross old Peggotty’s arm again. And I’l write to you, my dear. Thugh I ain’t no schoar. d I’l—I’ll—’ Peggotty fel to kig the keyhole, as s culdn’t kiss me. ‘Thank you, dear Peggotty!’ said I. ‘Oh, thank you! Thank you! Wi you prom m o thing, Peggotty? Wi you write and tell Mr. Peggotty and littl Em’ly, and Mrs. Gummidge and Ham, that I am nt so bad as they might suppo, and that I set ’e all my lve—epeally to little Em’ly? Wi you, if you plas, Peggotty?’ Th kind soul proised, and we both of us kissed th keyh with the greatest affecti—I patted it with my hand, I rect, as f it had be her honet face—and parted. From that night there grew up in my breast a feeg for Peggotty whic I cant very Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 91 wll defi. She did not replace my mothr; no on could do that; but she came into a vacancy in my heart, which cd upo hr, and I felt towards her sothing I have never felt for any other human beg. It was a sort of comal affection, to; and yet if she had died, I cannot think what I should have do, or how I should have acted out the tragedy it would have be to m In the mornig Mis Murdstone appeared as usual, and told m I was going to shool; whic was not altogether suc news to me as she supposed. She also informd me that wh I was dred, I was to come dowstairs into th parlur, and have my breakfast. Thre, I found my mothr, very pale and wth red eye: into w arms I ran, and begged her pardo fro my suffering soul ‘Oh, Davy!’ s said. ‘That you could hurt anyone I lve! Try to be better, pray to be better! I forgive you; but I am so grieved, Davy, that you should have such bad passions in your heart.’ Thy had persuaded her that I was a wiked fellow, and she was mre srry for that than for my going away. I felt it sorely. I tried to eat my parting breakfast, but my tears dropped upon my bread-and-butter, and trickled into my tea. I saw my mothr look at me sotim, and then glanc at the watchful Mis Murdstone, and than look down, or look away. ‘Master Cpperfield’s box thre!’ said Miss Murdsto, wh whee were heard at the gate. I looked for Peggotty, but it was not sh; nether sh nor Mr. Murdstone appeared. My former acquaitan, the carrier, was at the door. the box was take out to his cart, and lifted in ‘Cara!’ said Miss Murdsto, in her warning note ‘Ready, my dear Jan,’ returned my mother. ‘Good-bye, Davy. You are going for your own good. Good-bye, my chd. You wil Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 92 c home in the holidays, and be a better boy.’ ‘Clara!’ Miss Murdsto repeated. ‘Certainly, my dear Jane,’ replied my mothr, wh was hding me. ‘I forgive you, my dear boy. God bls you!’ ‘Clara!’ Miss Murdsto repeated. Miss Murdsto was god enugh to take me out to th cart, and to say on the way that sh hoped I would repet, before I cam to a bad end; and then I got into the cart, and the lazy horse walked off with it. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 93 Chapter 5 I AM SENT AWAY FROM HOME W e might have gone about half a mi, and my pokethandkercef was quite wet through, when the carrier stopped short. Loking out to ascertain for what, I saw, to my amazet, Peggotty burst from a hedge and clb ito the cart. She tok me in both her arms, and squezed me to hr stays unti the presure on my n was extremely paiful, though I nver thought of that til afterwards when I found it very tender. Not a sgl word did Peggotty speak. Reasig one of her arm, s put it down in her poket to the elbow, and brought out so paper bags of cakes wich she crammed into my pockets, and a purs wich she put into my hand, but not on word did she say. fter another and a final squeeze with both arm, s got down fro th cart and ran away; and, my belf is, and has always be, without a sotary button on her gown. I piked up o, of sveral that were rollg about, and treasured it as a kepsake for a long time. Th carrir looked at me, as if to inquire if she were comng back. I shook my head, and said I thought not. ‘Then c up,’ said th carrir to th lazy horse; wh came up accordigly. Having by this time crid as much as I posbly could, I began to think it was of no us crying any more, epecialy as neithr Roderik Rando, nor that Captain in th Royal British Navy, had ever cried, that I could remember, in trying situation. Th carrir, seng me in this resoluti, propod that my pocketCharles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 94 handkerchief should be spread upo the horse’s back to dry. I thanked him, and assented; and particularly small it looked, under th circumstances I had n lure to exame the purse. It was a stiff leather purs, with a snap, and had thre bright shings in it, wich Peggotty had evidetly pod up with whiteg, for my greater delight. But its most precious contets were tw half-cro folded togethr in a bit of paper, on wich was written, i my mother’s hand, ‘For Davy. With my love.’ I was so overcome by this, that I asked the carrier to be so good as to reach me my pocket-handkerchief again; but he said he thught I had better do without it, and I thought I realy had, so I wiped my eyes on my sleeve and stopped myself. For good, too; though, in cequene of my previous eotio, I was still occasionaly seized with a stormy sob. After we had jogged on for s little tim, I asked the carrier if he was going all th way. ‘Al the way where?’ inquired the carrier. ‘Thre,’ I said. ‘Where’s there?’ inquired the carrier. ‘Near Lodo,’ I said. ‘Why that horse,’ said th carrir, jerking th rein to point h out, ‘would be deader than pork afore he got over half the ground.’ ‘Are you only going to Yarmouth then?’ I asked. ‘That’s about it,’ said the carrier. ‘Ad there I shall take you to the stage-cutch, and the stage-cutch that’l take you to—wherever it is.’ A this was a great deal for the carrier (whose nam was Mr. Barki) to say—h beg, as I obsrved in a formr chapter, of a Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 95 phgmati temperamt, and nt at all coversatioal—I offered hm a cake as a mark of attention, which h ate at o gulp, exactly like an elphant, and which made no more impresion on is big face than it would have don on an elephant’s. ‘Did she make ’e, nw?’ said Mr. Barki, always leang forward, i hi souchg way, on the footboard of the cart with an arm on each knee ‘Peggotty, do you mean, sir?’ ‘Ah!’ said Mr. Barkis. ‘Her.’ ‘Ye. She makes all our pastry, and doe all our cookig.’ ‘Do she thugh?’ said Mr. Barkis. He made up hs mouth as if to whistl, but he didn’t whistle He sat lookig at the horse’s ears, as if he saw something ne thre; and sat so, for a considerable time. By and by, he said: ‘No sweethearts, I b’leve?’ ‘Sweetmats did you say, Mr. Barki?’ For I thought he wanted sthing el to eat, and had potedly aluded to that description of refret. ‘Hearts,’ said Mr. Barki. ‘Sweet hearts; n pers walks wth her!’ ‘With Peggotty?’ ‘Ah!’ he said. ‘Her.’ ‘Oh, no She never had a sweetheart.’ ‘Didn’t she, thugh!’ said Mr. Barki Again h made up his mouth to whistle, and again he didn’t whistl, but sat lookig at the horse’s ears. ‘So sh make,’ said Mr. Barki, after a lg iterval of refletion, ‘all the appl parstie, and doos al the cookig, do s?’ I replied that such was th fact. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 96 ‘Well I’l te you what,’ said Mr. Barki. ‘P’raps you might be ritin’ to her?’ ‘I shall certainly write to her,’ I rejod. ‘Ah!’ he said, sloy turng his eyes toards me. ‘Wel! If you was writin’ to her, p’raps you’d rellect to say that Barki was llin’; would you?’ ‘That Barkis is wing,’ I repeated, innocently. ‘Is that all th message?’ ‘Ye-es,’ he said, coiderig. ‘Ye-es. Barkis is wi’.’ ‘But you wil be at Blunderstone agai tomorrow, Mr. Barki,’ I said, falterig a little at the idea of my beg far away from it then, and could give your own message so much better.’ As he repudiated this suggestion, hover, with a jerk of h ad, and oce more confirmed his previous requet by saying, wth profound gravity, ‘Barkis is willin’. That’s th mesage,’ I readily undertok its tranission. Whi I was waitig for th ach i the hotel at Yarmouth that very afternoon, I procured a st of paper and an inkstand, and wrote a note to Peggotty, wich ran thus: ‘My dear Peggotty. I have come here safe. Barkis is wg. My love to mama. Yours affectionately. P.S. He says he particularly wants you to know—Barki is willing .’ Whe I had taken this cossion o myself propectivey, Mr. Barkis relapsed into perfet silence; and I, feg quite wrn out by all that had happed lately, lay dow on a sack in th cart and fel asleep. I spt soundly until we got to Yarmouth; whic was so tirely nw and strange to me in the in-yard to whic we drove, that I at onc abandod a latent hope I had had of meeting with s of Mr. Peggotty’s famy there, perhaps even wth lttle Em’ly herself. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 97 Th coach was in th yard, shiing very much all over, but wthut any hrses to it as yet; and it looked in that state as if nthing was mre unlikey than its ever going to London. I was thinkig this, and wonderig what would ultimately be of my box, wich Mr. Barkis had put dow on th yard-pavet by th po (he having drive up the yard to turn his cart), and al what would ultimately be of m, when a lady looked out of a bowwindow where s fowls and jots of meat were hangig up, and said: ‘Is that the little gentlan from Blunderstone?’ ‘Yes, ma’am,’ I said. ‘What nam?’ iquired the lady. ‘Copperfield, ma’am,’ I said. ‘That won’t do,’ returned the lady. ‘Nobody’s dinner is paid for hre, in that name.’ ‘Is it Murdsto, ma’am?’ I said. ‘If you’re Master Murdstoe,’ said the lady, ‘why do you go and give another nam, first?’ I explained to th lady h it was, wh than rang a bell, and called out, ‘Wiam! show the coffee-room!’ upon whic a waiter cam rung out of a kitchen on the oppote side of the yard to sho it, and sed a god deal surprised wh he was only to how it to me It was a large long ro with some large maps in it. I doubt if I could have felt much stranger if th maps had be real foreign untries, and I cast away in th middle of th. I felt it was taking a liberty to sit dow, with my cap i my hand, o th cornr of the chair nearet the door; and when the waiter laid a cloth on purpo for me, and put a set of castors on it, I thk I must have Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 98 turnd red al over with modesty. He brought me so chops, and vegetabl, and took the cvers off in such a bounng manner that I was afraid I must have give so offence. But he greatly reeved my md by puttig a cair for me at the tabl, and sayig, very affably, ‘Now, six-foot! come on!’ I thanked hi, and tok my seat at th board; but found it extremely difficult to handl my knfe and fork with anythig like dexterity, or to avoid splasg mysf with the gravy, whil he was standing opposite, starig so hard, and making me blus in the mot dreadful maner every ti I caught his eye. After watcng me into th second chop, he said: ‘Thre’s half a pint of ale for you. Will you have it no?’ I thanked h and said, ‘Ye.’ Upon which he poured it out of a jug ito a large tumblr, and held it up against the light, and made t look beautiful. ‘My eye!’ he said. ‘It seems a god deal, don’t it?’ ‘It do se a good deal,’ I anered with a se. For it was quite deghtful to me, to find him so plasant. He was a twinklgeyed, pimple-faced man, with his hair standing upright all over hi head; and as he stood with one arm a-kibo, holdig up the glas to the light with the other hand, he looked quite friendly. ‘Thre was a gentlman here, yesterday,’ he said—‘a stout gentleman, by th name of Topsawyer—perhaps you kn him?’ ‘No,’ I said, ‘I don’t thk—’ ‘In bres and gaiters, broad-brimmed hat, grey coat, speckled choker,’ said th waiter. ‘No,’ I said bashfuly, ‘I have’t the pleasure—’ ‘He cam in here,’ said the waiter, lookig at the light through Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 99 the tumblr, ‘ordered a glas of this ale— would order it—I told hm not—drank it, and fe dead. It was to old for hm. It oughtn’t to be draw; that’s the fact.’ I was very muc shocked to hear of this mlancholy acdet, and said I thought I had better have so water. ‘Why you se,’ said the waiter, stil lookig at the light through the tumblr, wth one of his eyes shut up, ‘our peopl do’t like things being ordered and left. It offends ’em. But I’ll drik it, if you like. I’m usd to it, and us is everythng. I don’t think it’ll hurt me, if I thro my head back, and take it off quick. Shal I?’ I replied that he would much oblige me by driking it, if he thought he culd do it safely, but by n mean otherwis When he did thro his head back, and take it off quick, I had a horrible fear, I cfes, of seeing hi meet the fate of the lamted Mr. Topsawyer, and fall lifeless on th carpet. But it didn’t hurt hm. On the cotrary, I thought he seemed the fresher for it. ‘What have we got here?’ he said, putting a fork into my di ‘Not chops?’ ‘Chops,’ I said. ‘Lord bless my soul!’ he excaimed, ‘I didn’t kn thy were hops Why, a chop’s the very thing to take off the bad effects of that beer! Ain’t it lucky?’ So he took a chop by the bo in one hand, and a potato i the othr, and ate away with a very god appetite, to my extre atisfaction. He afterwards took another chop, and another potato; and after that, another chop and another potato. When we had done, h brought me a pudding, and having set it before me, sed to rumate, and to beme absent i h md for some moments Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 100 ‘How’s the pie?’ he said, rousg himself. ‘It’s a pudding,’ I made answer. ‘Pudding!’ he exclaimed. ‘Why, bls me, so it is! What!’ lookig at it nearer. ‘You don’t mean to say it’s a batter-pudding!’ ‘Yes, it is indeed.’ ‘Why, a batter-pudding,’ h said, takig up a table-spo, ‘is my favourite pudding! Ain’t that lucky? Come on, littl ’un, and let’s who’l get mot.’ The waiter certaiy got mot. He entreated m more than once to co in and win, but what with his table-spoon to my tea-spoon, his dispatc to my dispatch, and his appetite to my appetite, I was ft far bed at the first mouthful, and had n chan with him I never saw anyo enjoy a puddig so much, I thk; and h laughd, wh it was all go, as if his enjoymt of it lasted sti Fidig him so very friendly and copanionabl, it was th that I asked for the pe and ink and paper, to write to Peggotty. He nt only brought it imdiatey, but was good enough to look over me whe I wrote the letter. When I had fined it, he asked m where I was going to school. I said, ‘Near Lodo,’ wh was al I knew. ‘Oh! my eye!’ he said, lookig very low-spirited, ‘I am sorry for that.’ ‘Why?’ I asked him. ‘Oh, Lord!’ he said, sakig his head, ‘that’s the school where thy broke th boy’s ribs—tw ribs—a littl boy he was I should say he was—lt me see—how old are you, about?’ I told him betwee eight and nin ‘That’s just his age,’ he said. ‘He was eght years and sx month old when they broke hi first rib; eight years and eight moths old Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 101 w thy broke his second, and did for him.’ I could not disguise fro myself, or fro th waiter, that this was an unmfortabl coidence, and inquired ho it was done His answer was not cherig to my spirits, for it consisted of tw dismal words, ‘With whpping.’ The blowing of the coach-horn in the yard was a seasonabl diversi, which made m get up and hestatingly inquire, i the mingled pride and diffidence of having a purs (wich I tok out of my pocket), if thre were anythng to pay. ‘Thre’s a sheet of letter-paper,’ he returned. ‘Did you ever buy a shet of letter-paper?’ I could nt reber that I ever had. ‘It’s dear,’ he said, ‘on account of the duty. Threepence. That’s th way we’re taxed in this country. Thre’s nothing e, except the waiter. Never mid the ink. I lose by that.’ ‘What should you—what should I—how muc ought I to—what wuld it be right to pay th waiter, if you plase?’ I stammered, blusng. ‘If I hadn’t a famy, and that famy hadn’t the cowpok,’ said th waiter, ‘I wouldn’t take a sixpen If I didn’t support a aged pairit, and a lovely sister,’—here th waiter was greatly agitated—‘I wouldn’t take a farthng. If I had a god place, and was treated we here, I should beg acceptance of a trifle, istead of takig of it. But I live on broke wittles—and I seep on the cal’—here the waiter burst into tears I was very much conrned for his misfortunes, and felt that any regnition short of ninepence would be mere brutality and hardn of heart. Therefore I gave him one of my three bright shillings, which he received with much humility and verati, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 102 and spun up with his thumb, directly afterwards, to try the goodn of. It was a littl disconcerting to me, to fid, w I was beg helped up bed the coach, that I was suppod to have eaten al the dinner without any astanc I divered this, from overhearig the lady i the bow-window say to the guard, ‘Take are of that chd, George, or he’l burst!’ and from obsrving that the wome-srvants who were about the plac cam out to look and giggl at me as a young phe My unfortunate friend th waiter, wh had quite revered his spirits, did not appear to be diturbed by this, but joind in the genral admratio without beg at all confusd. If I had any doubt of him, I suppo this half awaked it; but I am id to believe that with the sipl nfidence of a chid, and th natural reliance of a child upo superir years (qualiti I am very sorry any childre should preaturely change for worldly wisdom), I had no serious mtrust of him on the whole, even then I felt it rather hard, I must own, to be made, without derving it, the subjet of joke betwee the coachman and guard as to the cach drawg heavy bed, on acunt of my sitting there, and as to the greater expediy of my traveling by waggon. The story of my suppod appetite getting wind among the outside passegers, thy were merry upo it likew; and asked me whether I was going to be paid for, at school, as two brothers or three, and whether I was cotracted for, or wet upo the regular terms; with other plasant questions. But the worst of it was, that I knew I should be ashamd to eat anything, when an opportunity offered, and that, after a rather light dir, I should remai ungry all night—for I had left my cakes behnd, at th hote, in Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 103 my hurry. My appresion wre realized. Whe we stopped for supper I couldn’t muster courage to take any, thugh I should have liked it very much, but sat by th fire and said I didn’t want anythng. This did not save me fro more jokes, ethr; for a husky-voicd gentlan with a rough fac, who had be eating out of a sandwic-box narly al the way, except when he had be drikig out of a bottle, said I was lke a boa-ctrictor who took eugh at o meal to last him a long time; after which, he actualy brought a ras out upo himf with bod bef. We had started from Yarmouth at three o’cock in the afternoon, and we were due in Londo about eight next mornig. It was Mid-sumer weather, and the evenig was very pleasant. When we pasd through a viage, I pitured to mysf wat th insides of th houses were like, and what th iabitants wre about; and when boys cam runng after us, and got up bend and sung there for a little way, I wodered whether their fathers re alve, and wether they Were happy at home. I had plenty to think of, threfore, besides my mind running continualy on th kind of place I was going to—wich was an awful speculation. Sometimes, I remember, I resigned myself to thughts of h and Peggotty; and to endeavouring, in a cfusd bld way, to real ho I had felt, and what sort of boy I usd to be, before I bit Mr. Murdsto: which I couldn’t satisfy myself about by any mans, I sd to have bitten him i suc a remte antiquity. The night was not so plasant as the eveg, for it got cy; and beg put betwee two gentl (the rough-facd one and another) to prevet my tumbling off the coach, I was nearly smothred by thr falling asleep, and completely blocking me up. Thy squezed me so hard somtimes, that I could not hep crying Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 104 out, ‘Oh! If you plas!’—w thy didn’t like at al, beaus it wke them. Oppote me was an elderly lady in a great fur coak, who looked in the dark more like a haystack than a lady, se was rapped up to such a degre This lady had a basket with her, and s hadn’t known what to do with it, for a log tim, until sh found that on acunt of my legs beg short, it could go undernath me. It cramped and hurt me so, that it made me perfetly miserabl; but if I moved in th least, and made a glass that was in th basket rattl against something el (as it was sure to do), sh gave me the cruellt poke with her foot, and said, ‘Come, don’t you fidget. Your bo are young enough, I’m sure!’ At last th sun ro, and th my companion seed to slp easier. Th difficulties under which thy had laboured all night, and which had found utteran in th most terrific gasps and sorts, are nt to be coved. As the sun got higher, their slp beam lghter, and so they gradually one by one awoke I rellect beg very much surprised by th feint everybody made, then, of not havig been to sleep at al, and by the unc indignation with which everyo repeld th charge. I labour under th same kid of astonishment to this day, having invariably obsrved that of al human weakn, the one to whic our c nature i the least diposed to cofe (I cant imagi y) is the weakn of havig go to sleep in a coach. What an amazing place Lodo was to me wh I saw it in th distance, and ho I believed all th adventure of all my favourite ro to be constantly enacting and re-enactig thre, and h I vaguey made it out in my ow mid to be fulr of woders and wickedne than all th cities of th earth, I need not stop here to relate. We approacd it by degree, and got, in due tim, to the Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 105 inn in th Whiteapel district, for which we were bound. I forget whether it was the Blue Bull, or the Blue Boar; but I know it was th Blue Something, and that its likeness was painted up on th back of the coach. The guard’s eye lghted on me as he was getting down, and he said at th boking-office door: ‘Is there anybody here for a yoongster booked i the nam of Murdstone, from Bloonderstone, Sooffolk, to be left til cald for?’ Nobody anered. ‘Try Copperfield, if you please, sr,’ said I, looking hlplessly dow ‘Is there anybody here for a yoongster, booked in the nam of Murdstone, from Bloonderstone, Sooffolk, but ownig to the nam Is f Copperfield, to be left ti calld for?’ said th guard. ‘Co! there anybody?’ No There was nobody. I looked anxiously around; but the inquiry made no impression on any of th bystanders, if I except a man i gaiters, with one eye, who suggested that they had better put a brass coar round my neck, and ti me up in th stabl ladder was brought, and I got down after the lady, who was ke a haystack: nt daring to stir, until her basket was remved. Th coach was clear of passengers by that time, th luggage was very soon ceared out, the horse had been taken out before the luggage, and n the coach itsf was wheeled and backed off by s hostlers, out of the way. Sti, nbody appeared, to caim the dusty youngster from Blunderstone, Suffolk. More sotary than Robion Crusoe, who had nobody to lk at hi and s that he was stary, I went into the bookig-offic, and, by invitation of the clrk on duty, pasd bend the cunter, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 106 and sat down on the scale at whic they weighed the luggage. Here, as I sat looking at th parcs, package, and boks, and inhaling th smell of stables (ever since associated with that morng), a prossion of most tredous considerations began to marc through my mind. Suppog nobody should ever fetc , how lg wuld they cot to keep m there? Would they keep m long enugh to spend seven shings? Should I sleep at nght in on of those woode bi, with the other luggage, and was mysf at the pump in the yard in the mornig; or should I be turned out every night, and expeted to c agai to be lft till called for, wh th office oped next day? Supposing thre as no mistake i th case, and Mr. Murdsto had devised this plan to get rid of me, what should I do? If thy allowd me to remain thre until my seven shillings were spent, I couldn’t hpe to remai there when I began to starve. That would obviously be inconveient and unplasant to th custors, besides entailing on the Blue Whatever-it-was, the rik of funeral expe. If I started off at oce, and tried to walk back ho, ho could I ever find my way, how could I ever hope to walk s far, how could I make sure of anyone but Peggotty, eve if I got back? If I found out the nearet proper authoriti, and offered mysf to go for a soldier, or a sailor, I was such a littl fellow that it was most lkely they wouldn’t take m in Thes thoughts, and a hundred other suc thoughts, turned me burng hot, and made m giddy with appresion and dismay. I was in th height of my fever w a man entered and whispered to th clerk, wh pretly slanted me off th scale, and pushed me over to him, as if I were weighd, bought, delivered, and paid for. I went out of the offic, hand in hand with this n Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 107 acquaitan, I stole a look at him He was a gaunt, sallow young man, with hollow cheks, and a chin almost as black as Mr. Murdsto’s; but thre th likeness ended, for his wiskers wre shaved off, and his hair, instead of beg glsy, was rusty and dry. He was dred in a suit of black clths which were rathr rusty and dry too, and rather short in the seeves and legs; and he had a wite neck-kerchief o, that was not over-clean. I did not, and do not, suppose that this neck-kerchief was all th line h wre, but it was al he showed or gave any hint of. ‘You’re the ne boy?’ he said. ‘Yes, sir,’ I said. I supposed I was. I didn’t kn ‘I’m on of the masters at Salm House,’ he said. I made hi a bow and felt very much overawed. I was so ashamed to allude to a commonplace thing like my box, to a schoar and a master at Salem Hous, that we had go some littl ditan from the yard before I had the hardihood to meti it. We turned back, o my humbly inuatig that it mght be useful to me hereafter; and he told the clrk that the carrier had instruction to call for it at noo ‘If you please, sir,’ I said, wh we had accomplished about th same distance as before, ‘is it far?’ ‘It’s dow by Blackhath,’ he said. ‘Is that far, sr?’ I diffidetly asked. ‘It’s a god step,’ he said. ‘We shall go by th stage-coach. It’s about six miles.’ I was s fait and tired, that the idea of holdig out for six mi re, was too muc for me I took heart to tell him that I had had nthing all nght, and that if he would alw me to buy sothing to eat, I should be very muc obliged to him He appeared Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 108 surprised at this—I se him stop and look at me n—and after considering for a fe moments, said he wanted to call on an od person who lived not far off, and that the bet way would be for m to buy so bread, or whatever I lked bet that was wholese, and make my breakfast at her house, whre we could get some milk. Accordingly w looked in at a baker’s wndow, and after I had made a series of proposal to buy everything that was bious i the shop, and he had rejected them one by oe, w deded i favour of a ni little laf of brown bread, which cot me threepenc. Then, at a grocer’s shop, we bought an egg and a s of streaky bac; which sti lft what I thought a good deal of change, out of th second of th bright shillings, and made me consider London a very cheap place. Th provisions laid in, we nt on through a great noise and uproar that confusd my wary head beyond deription, and over a bridge whic, n doubt, was London Bridge (inded I think he told m s, but I was half asleep), until we came to th poor pers’s huse, wich was a part of some alms-huses, as I knew by thr look, and by an inscription on a sto over th gate which said thy wre tabld for twenty-five poor wo The Master at Sal House lifted the latch of one of a number of littl black doors that were all alke, and had each a lttl diamd-paned window on on side, and anthr littl diamdpand window above; and we went into the little house of one of these poor old women, who was blowing a fire to make a little aucepan bo. On seeing the master enter, the old woan stopped with the bews on her kn, and said sothing that I thought sunded lke ‘My Charly!’ but on seeing m co in too, she got Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 109 up, and rubbig her hands made a cfused sort of half curtsey. ‘Can you cook this young gentlan’s breakfast for him, if you please?’ said th Master at Salem Hous ‘Can I?’ said the old woman ‘Ye can I, sure!’ ‘Ho’s Mrs. Fibbitson today?’ said th Master, lookig at anothr old woan in a large chair by th fire, wh was such a bundl of cothes that I feel grateful to this hour for not having sat upon her by mitake. ‘Ah, se’s poorly,’ said the first old woman ‘It’s one of her bad days. If the fire was to go out, through any acdet, I verily believe she’d go out to, and never com to life again.’ A they looked at her, I looked at her al Although it was a warm day, s sed to think of nothing but the fire. I fancd se was jealous even of the saucepan on it; and I have reason to know that she tok its impresment into th service of bog my egg and brong my bacon, in dudgen; for I saw her, with my o discomfited eye, shake her fist at me once, wh th culinary operati were going on, and no on el was lookig. The sun treamd i at the little window, but sh sat with her own back and the back of the large chair toards it, screenig the fire as if she were sedulously keeping it warm, instead of it keepig her warm, and watcng it in a most distrustful manner. Th pletion of the preparatins for my breakfast, by relievig the fire, gave her suc extreme joy that se laughed aloud—and a very unmelodious laugh she had, I must say. I sat dow to my bron loaf, my egg, and my rasher of bacon, wth a basin of milk besdes, and made a most delicious meal Wh I was yet i the full enjoymet of it, the old woman of the huse said to th Master: Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 110 ‘Have you got your flute with you?’ ‘Yes,’ he returned. ‘Have a bl at it,’ said the old woman, coaxigly. ‘Do!’ Th Master, upo this, put his hand undernath th skirts of h at, and brought out his flute in thre piecs, which he scred togethr, and began immediatey to play. My impresion is, after many years of consideration, that thre never can have be anybody in the world who played worse. He made the mot dial unds I have ever heard produced by any mean, natural or artifical I don’t know what the tune were—if there were suc things in the performance at al, whic I doubt—but the ifluen f th strai upo me was, first, to make me thk of al my sorro until I could hardly keep my tears back; th to take away my appetite; and lastly, to make me so sleepy that I couldn’t keep my eye ope They begin to close agai, and I begin to nod, as the rellection rises fre upo me. Once more th littl ro, wth its ope cornr cupboard, and its square-backed chairs, and its angular little staircas ladig to the room above, and its three peacock’s feathers diplayed over the mantelpiece—I reber wonderig when I first went in, what that peacock would have thought if he had known what his finry was doomed to c to— fades fro before me, and I nod, and slp. Th flute becomes inaudible, th whs of th coach are heard instead, and I am o my journey. Th coach jolts, I wake with a start, and th flute has me back agai, and the Master at Sal House is sittig with hi legs crossed, playig it dolefuly, while th old woman of th house looks on delighted. She fades in her turn, and he fades, and all fade, and there is n flute, n Master, n Sal House, n David Cpperfield, no anythng but heavy sleep. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 111 I dreamd, I thought, that onc whil he was blowing ito this dial flute, the old woman of the house, who had gone narer and nearer to him in her ecstati admration, laned over the back of his chair and gave him an affectionate squeze round th nek, wich stopped his playig for a moment. I was in th middle state between sleepig and wakig, either then or idiately afterwards; for, as he resumed—it was a real fact that he had stopped playig—I saw and heard th same od wan ask Mrs Fibbits if it was’t delicious (maning th flute), to which Mrs Fibbits replied, ‘Ay, ay! yes!’ and nodded at th fire: to which, I am persuaded, she gave the credit of the whole performane. When I seemed to have be dozig a log whe, the Master at Sal House unrewed his flute into the three pi, put them up as before, and tok me away. We found th coac very near at hand, and got upon the roof; but I was so dead slpy, that when stopped on th road to take up somebody el, thy put me ide where there were no pasengers, and where I sept profoundly, until I found the coach going at a footpac up a steep hi amg green leaves. Prestly, it stopped, and had c to its destination. A short walk brought us—I mean the Master and me—to Sal House, whic was enosed with a high brik wall, and looked very dull. Over a door in this wal was a board wth SALEM HOUSE upon it; and through a gratig in this door we were surveyed when rang th be by a surly face, which I found, on th door being opened, beged to a stout man wth a bul-neck, a wooden leg, overhangig templ, and his hair cut close al round his head. ‘Th ne boy,’ said the Master. The man with the wooden lg eyed me al over—it didn’t take Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 112 lg, for there was not muc of m—and lked the gate bed us, and took out the key. We were going up to the house, amg some dark heavy trees, when he caled after my conductor. ‘Hal!’ We looked back, and he was standig at the door of a lttle dge, where he lived, with a pair of boots in his hand. ‘Here! Th cobbler’s be,’ he said, ‘sce you’ve be out, Mr. Mell, and h says h can’t med ’em any more He says thre ain’t a bit of th original bot left, and he wonders you expect it.’ With thes words he threw the boots towards Mr. Mel, who wnt back a fe paces to pick th up, and looked at th (very disconsolatey, I was afraid), as we went on togethr. I observed then, for the first tim, that the boots he had on were a good deal th wors for wear, and that his stoking was just breaking out in one place, like a bud. Salem Hous was a square brick buiding with wings; of a bare and unfurnished appearance. All about it was so very quiet, that I said to Mr. Mell I supposed th boys were out; but he sed surprised at my not knowg that it was hoday-time. That all th boys were at their several home That Mr. Creakl, the propritor, was dow by th sea-side with Mrs. and Miss Creakl; and that I was sent in hiday-time as a punishmnt for my misdog, al of which he explaid to me as we wet alg. I gazed upon the schoolroom into whic he took me, as the mt forlorn and deate place I had ever seen. I see it n A long ro with thre long ro of desks, and sx of forms, and bristling al round with pegs for hats and slate. Scraps of old copy-boks and exercises litter th dirty flr. Some silkworms’ huses, made of th same materials, are scattered over th desks. Two mirable lttle whte mi, lft bed by their ownr, are Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 113 running up and dow in a fusty castle made of pasteboard and wre, lookig in al the corners with their red eyes for anythig to at. A bird, in a cage very little bigger than hif, make a mournful rattl now and th in hopping on his perc, tw inche gh, or dropping fro it; but neithr sings nor chirps. Thre is a strange unwholee smell upo the room, like mdewed crduroys, swt appl wantig air, and rotten books There uld not well be more ink splashed about it, if it had be rofless fro its first contructi, and th skies had raind, snd, haid, and blown ink through the varying seasons of the year. Mr. Mell having left me while he took hi irreparable boots upstairs, I wnt softly to th upper end of th ro, observig all this as I crept alg. Suddenly I came upo a pasteboard placard, beautifully written, whic was lyig on the dek, and bore thes words: ‘Take care of him. He bites.’ I got upon the dek imdiately, apprehensve of at least a great dog underneath. But, though I looked all round with anxious eye, I could see nothing of hi I was still engaged in peering about, wh Mr. Me came back, and asked m wat I did up there? ‘I beg your pardo, sir,’ says I, ‘if you please, I’m lking for th dog.’ ‘Dog?’ he says. ‘What dog?’ ‘Isn’t it a dog, sir?’ ‘Isn’t what a dog?’ ‘That’s to be take care of, sir; that bites’ ‘No, Copperfied,’ says he, gravey, ‘that’s not a dog. That’s a boy. My instruction are, Copperfid, to put this placard o your back. I am srry to make suc a beging with you, but I must do Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 114 it.’ With that he took me down, and tied the placard, which was atly constructed for th purpo, o my shoulders like a knapsack; and whrever I went, afterwards, I had th consolation f carrying it. What I suffered fro that placard, nobody can imagine Whethr it was possible for people to see me or not, I alays fancied that somebody was readig it. It was no relief to turn round and find nobody; for wherever my back was, there I iagid sbody always to be That cruel man with the woode leg aggravated my sufferings. He was in authrity; and if he ever saw me lang against a tree, or a wal, or the house, he roared out fro his lodge door in a stupedous voice, ‘Hallo, you sir! You Cpperfield! Sho that badge conspicuous, or I’ll report you!’ Th playground was a bare graved yard, ope to all the back of the huse and th offices; and I knew that th servants read it, and th butcr read it, and th baker read it; that everybody, in a word, who cam backwards and forwards to the house, of a mrning when I was ordered to walk there, read that I was to be take care of, for I bit, I rellect that I positivey began to have a dread of myself, as a kid of wid boy wh did bite Thre was an old door in this playground, on which th boys ad a custo of carving thr names. It was completely covered wth such inscription. In my dread of th end of th vacati and thr coming back, I could not read a boy’s name, withut he would read, inquiring in what to and with what ephasis ‘Take care of him He bite.’ There was one boy—a crtai J. Steerforth—who cut hi nam very deep and very often, who, I conceived, would read it in a rathr strong voice, and afterwards pul my hair. There was another boy, one Tommy Traddl, who I Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 115 dreaded would make game of it, and preted to be dreadfully frighted of me. Thre was a third, George Deple, wh I fancied wuld sing it. I have looked, a littl shrinking creature, at that door, until the owners of al the nam—there were five-and-forty of them in the school then, Mr. Mell said—seemed to sed m to Cventry by geral acamation, and to cry out, each in hs o ay, ‘Take care of him. He bites!’ It was th same with th plac at th desks and forms. It was the sam with the groves of derted bedsteads I peeped at, on my way to, and wh I was in, my own bed. I remember dreamng nght after night, of beg with my mother as s used to be, or of going to a party at Mr. Peggotty’s, or of traveg outside the stage-coach, or of dining again with my unfortunate friend th aiter, and in al th circumstances making people scream and stare, by th unappy disclosure that I had nothing on but my lttle night-shrt, and that placard. In th monotony of my life, and in my constant appresion of the re-opeg of the school, it was suc an iupportabl affliti! I had log tasks every day to do with Mr. Mell; but I did them, there beg n Mr. and Mis Murdstone here, and got through them without digrac Before, and after them, I walked about—supervised, as I have mentioned, by th man wth th woode lg. How vividly I cal to mid the damp about the house, the gree cracked flagstone i the court, an old laky water-butt, and the dioloured trunks of so of the grim tree, whic d to have dripped more in th rai than othr tre, and to ave blown les in th sun! At on we dined, Mr. Me and I, at th upper end of a lg bare dining-room, full of deal tabl, and sg of fat. Then, we had mre tasks until tea, which Mr. Mel Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 116 drank out of a blue teacup, and I out of a tin pot. All day long, and until seven or eight in the eveg, Mr. Mell, at hi own detacd dek i the schoolroom, worked hard with pen, ink, ruler, books, and writing-paper, making out th bis (as I found) for last halfyear. Wh he had put up h things for the night he took out his flute, and bl at it, until I almt thought he would gradually blow his whole beg into the large hole at the top, and ooze away at th keys I picture my small self in th diy-lighted ros, sitting with my head upo my hand, listeg to th doleful performance of Mr. Mell, and cong tomorro’s lessons. I picture myself wth my boks shut up, still listeg to th doleful performanc of Mr. Mel, and listeg through it to what used to be at home, and to the blowing of the wind on Yarmouth flats, and feeg very sad and slitary. I piture mysf going up to bed, among the unusd ros, and sitting on my bed-side crying for a comfortabl wrd fro Peggotty. I picture myself comng dowstairs in th morng, and lookig through a lg ghastly gas of a staircas window at the school-bell hangig on the top of an out-house with a wathrck above it; and dreading th time wh it shall ring J. Sterforth and th rest to work: which is only second, in my forebodig appre, to the tim when the man with the woode leg shal unlok the rusty gate to give adm to the awful Mr. Creakle. I cant thk I was a very dangerous character in any of th aspects, but in all of th I carrid th same warng on my back. Mr. Mel never said muc to m, but he was never harsh to me I suppose we were company to each othr, withut talking. I forgot to meti that he would talk to himf sotim, and grin, and Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 117 clench hs fist, and grid hs teth, and pull his hair in an unaccountabl manr. But he had th pecularities: and at first they frightend me, though I soon got used to them Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 118 Chapter 6 I ENLARGE MY CIRCLE OF ACQUAINTANCE I had ld this lfe about a mth, when the man with the woode leg began to stump about with a mp and a bucket of water, fro which I inferred that preparations were making to reve Mr. Creakle and the boys. I was not mtake; for th p cam ito the schoolroom before lg, and turned out Mr. Mell and me, w lved wre w could, and got on ho we could, for so days, during whic we were always in the way of two or three young wome, who had rarely shown themsves before, and wre so continualy in th midst of dust that I szed almost as muc as if Sal House had been a great snuff-box. On day I was informed by Mr. Mel that Mr. Creakl would be home that eveg. In the eveg, after tea, I heard that he was c Before bedti, I was fetched by the man with the woode g to appear before him Mr. Creakle’s part of the house was a good deal mre cfortabl than ours, and he had a sug bit of garde that looked pleasant after th dusty playground, which was such a desrt in mniature, that I thought no one but a caml, or a drodary, culd have felt at home in it. It seemed to m a bod thg even to take notic that the pasage looked cfortable, as I went on my way, tremblg, to Mr. Creakle’s pres: wh s abashed me, when I was ushered ito it, that I hardly saw Mrs. Creakl or Mis reakl (who were both there, in the parlour), or anything but Mr. Creakle, a stout gentleman wth a bunch of watc-chain and seals, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 119 in an arm-chair, wth a tumbler and bottl beside h ‘So!’ said Mr. Creakle. ‘This is th young gentleman w teth are to be filed! Turn him round.’ The woode-legged man turned me about so as to exhibit the placard; and having afforded tim for a full survey of it, turned m about agai, with my fac to Mr. Creakle, and poted hielf at Mr. Creakle’s side. Mr. Creakl’s fac was fiery, and hi eyes wre small, and deep in his head; he had thick ves in his foread, a littl nose, and a large chi. He was bald on th top of his head; and had s thin wet-lookig hair that was just turnig grey, brushed across eac templ, s that the two sde iterlaced o hi foread. But th circumstance about him which impred me most, was, that he had no voice, but spoke in a wisper. Th xerti this cost him, or th consciousss of talking i that feble way, made his angry face so much more angry, and hi thick veins so much thicker, wh he spoke, that I am not surprised, on lookig back, at this pecularity striking me as hs chief o ‘No,’ said Mr. Creakle. ‘What’s the report of th boy?’ ‘There’s nothing against him yet,’ returned the man with the wooden leg. ‘There has be no opportunity.’ I thought Mr. Creakl was diappoted. I thought Mrs. and Miss Creakle (at wh I now glanced for th first time, and wh were, both, thin and quiet) were not diappointed. ‘Come here, sir!’ said Mr. Creakle, bekonig to me ‘C here!’ said the man with the woode lg, repeatig the gesture. ‘I have th happine of kning your fathr-in-law,’ whispered Mr. Creakle, takig me by the ear; ‘and a worthy man he i, and a you man of a strong character. He knows me, and I kn h Do Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 120 know me? Hey?’ said Mr. Creakle, pinching my ear with ferocious playfuls. ‘Not yet, sir,’ I said, flching with th pain ‘Not yet? Hey?’ repeated Mr. Creakle. ‘But you wi soo. Hey?’ ‘You wi so. Hey?’ repeated the man with the wooden lg. I afterwards found that he genrally acted, with hi strong voic, as Mr. Creakl’s interpreter to the boys. I was very much frighted, and said, I hped so, if h pleased. I felt, all th while, as if my ear were blazig; he pinched it so hard. ‘I’l tell you what I am,’ whpered Mr. Creakle, letting it go at last, with a scre at parting that brought the water ito my eye ‘I’m a Tartar.’ ‘A Tartar,’ said the man with the woode lg. ‘When I say I’l do a thg, I do it,’ said Mr. Creakle; ‘and wen I say I wi have a thg don, I wi have it don.’ ‘—Will have a thing done, I wi have it done,’ repeated th man with the woode leg. ‘I am a determd character,’ said Mr. Creakl ‘That’s what I am. I do my duty. That’s what I do My flesh and blood’—he looked at Mrs. Creakl as he said this—‘wh it rises against me, is not my fl and bld. I discard it. Has that fe’—to th man with th wode leg—‘ben here again?’ ‘No,’ was the answer. ‘No,’ said Mr. Creakle. ‘He kns better. He kns me. Let h keep away. I say let him keep away,’ said Mr. Creakle, strikig hi hand upon the table, and lookig at Mrs. Creakl, ‘for he knows m Now you have begun to know me too, my young fried, and you may go Take him away.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 121 I was very glad to be ordered away, for Mrs. and Mis Creakl re both wiping thr eye, and I felt as unmfortabl for th as I did for myself. But I had a petiti on my mind which concerned me so nearly, that I couldn’t hep saying, thugh I wdered at my own courage: ‘If you please, sir—’ Mr. Creakle whspered, ‘Hah! What’s this?’ and bent his eye upo me, as if he would have burnt me up with them. ‘If you please, sir,’ I faltered, ‘if I might be ald (I am very sorry indeed, sir, for what I did) to take this writing off, before th boys come back—’ Whether Mr. Creakle was in earnt, or whether he only did it to frighten me, I do’t know, but he made a burst out of hi chair, before which I prepitatey retreated, withut waiting for th rt Of the man with the woode leg, and never onc stopped until I reached my own bedro, whre, finding I was not pursued, I went to bed, as it was tim, and lay quakig, for a cupl of hours. Next mornig Mr. Sharp cam back. Mr. Sharp was the first master, and superior to Mr. Mel Mr. Mel took his mal with the boys, but Mr. Sharp dined and supped at Mr. Creakle’s table. He was a lp, deate-lookig gentlan, I thought, with a good deal f nose, and a way of carrying his had on on side, as if it were a lttle too heavy for him His hair was very smooth and wavy; but I was informd by th very first boy wh came back that it was a wig he said), and that Mr. Sharp went out every (a secod-hand o Saturday afternoon to get it curled. It was n other than Tommy Traddl who gave me this pi of intellge He was the first boy who returned. He introduced Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 122 hif by informig me that I should find his nam on the righthand crner of the gate, over the top-bot; upon that I said, ‘Traddles?’ to which he replied, ‘Th same,’ and th h asked me for a full account of myself and family. It was a happy circumstance for me that Traddl came back first. He enjoyed my placard so much, that he saved me fro th embarrast of either diure or coealt, by prestig m to every other boy who cam back, great or sal, idiately on hi arrival, i this form of introduction, ‘Look here! Here’s a gam!’ Happiy, too, the greater part of the boys cam back lowspirited, and were not so boisterous at my expen as I had expected. Some of th certaiy did dan about me like wild Indians, and th greater part could not resist th teptati of preteding that I was a dog, and patting and soothng me, lest I should bite, and sayig, ‘Lie dow, sir!’ and calg me Tozer. This was naturaly confusing, among so many strangers, and cost m so tears, but on the whole it was muc better than I had anticpated. I was nt cdered as beg formaly receved into the school, however, until J. Steerforth arrived. Before this boy, who was reputed to be a great scholar, and was very good-lookig, and at last half-a-doze years my sor, I was carried as before a magistrate. He iquired, under a shd in the playground, ito the particulars of my punishment, and was plased to expre hi pinion that it was ‘a jolly sham’; for wich I beame bound to ever afterwards ‘What money have you got, Copperfield?’ he said, walking aside with m when he had diposed of my affair in these terms I told hm seven shillings. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 123 ‘You had better give it to me to take care of,’ he said. ‘At least, you can if you like. You nedn’t if you don’t like.’ I hasted to comply with his friendly suggestion, and opeing Peggotty’s purs, turnd it upside dow into his hand. ‘Do you want to spend anythg no?’ he asked me. ‘No thank you,’ I replied. ‘You can, if you like, you kn,’ said Steerforth ‘Say the word.’ ‘No, thank you, sir,’ I repeated. ‘Perhaps you’d like to spend a couple of shillings or so, in a bottl of currant wi by and by, up in th bedro?’ said Steerforth ‘You beg to my bedro, I find.’ It crtainly had nt occurred to me before, but I said, Yes, I should like that. ‘Very good,’ said Steerforth. ‘You’l be glad to sped another shilling or so, in almond cakes, I dare say?’ I said, Yes, I should like that, to ‘And anthr shilling or so in biscuits, and anothr in fruit, e?’ said Sterforth ‘I say, young Copperfield, you’re going it!’ I smed beause he sed, but I was a lttle troubled in my mnd, too. ‘Well!’ said Sterforth ‘We must make it stretc as far as we can; that’s al I’ll do th best in my powr for you. I can go out wen I lke, and I’l suggle the prog in.’ With the words he put th money in his pocket, and kindly told me not to make myself unasy; he would take care it should be all right. He was as god as h wrd, if that were all right which I had a secret misgiving was nearly all wrog—for I feared it was a waste of my mothr’s two half-crowns—though I had preserved the pi of paper they wre wrapped i: wich was a precious saving. Whe we went Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 124 upstairs to bed, h producd th wh seven shings’ worth, and laid it out on my bed in the moonlight, saying: ‘There you are, young Copperfid, and a royal spread you’ve got.’ I culdn’t think of dog the honours of the feast, at my tim of lfe, whil he was by; my hand shook at the very thought of it. I begged him to do me the favour of predig; and my request beg sded by the other boys who were in that room, he acceded to it, and sat upo my pillow, handing round th viands— wth perfet fairne, I must say—and dispensing th currant wi in a littl glass wthut a fot, which was his own property. As to , I sat on his left hand, and the rest were grouped about us, on the nearet beds and on the floor. Ho well I ret our sitting thre, talking i wispers; or their talkig, and my respetfully listeg, I ought rather to say; the moonlght fallg a lttle way into the room, through the window, paiting a pal window on the floor, and the greater part of us in shadow, excpt wh Sterforth dipped a matc into a phosphorus-box, when he wanted to look for anything on the board, and shed a blue glare over us that was go directly! A certain mysterious feing, consequent on th darkness, th crey of th revel, and th whisper in wich everythng was said, steals over me again, and I liste to all thy tell me with a vague feing of solemity and awe, which makes me glad that thy are all so near, and frightes me (thugh I feign to laugh) wh Traddl pretends to see a ghost in the corner. I heard all kids of things about the school and al begig to it. I heard that Mr. Creakle had nt preferred his clai to beg a Tartar withut reason; that he was th sternest and most severe of Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 125 masters; that he laid about him, right and left, every day of his lfe, charging i amg th boys like a troper, and slashing away, unmrcifuly. That he kn nthing himf, but the art of sasg, beg more ignrant (J. Sterforth said) than the lwest boy in the school; that he had be, a good many years ago, a sal hop-dealr in the Borough, and had take to the shoolig business after beg bankrupt in hops, and making away wth Mrs reakle’s money. With a god deal more of that sort, wich I wdered how they knew. I heard that the man with the woode leg, whose nam was Tungay, was an obstiate barbarian w had formrly assisted in th hop business, but had come into th schoastic l wth Mr. reakle, in conquence, as was supposed amg th boys, of hi aving broke his leg in Mr. Creakle’s service, and having done a deal of dihonest work for him, and knowing hi srets. I heard that wth th singl exception of Mr. Creakle, Tungay considered the whole establt, masters and boys, as hi natural ies, and that th only delight of his life was to be sour and malicious. I hard that Mr. Creakl had a son, wh had not be Tungay’s friend, and who, astig in the school, had once held s remtran with his father on an occas when its discipline was very cruelly exercised, and was suppod, besides, to have protested agait his father’s usage of his mother. I heard that Mr. Creakle had turned him out of doors, i cequene; and that Mrs. and Mi Creakle had been i a sad way, ever si But the greatet woder that I heard of Mr. Creakle was, there beg one boy in the school on whom he nver ventured to lay a hand, and that boy beg J. Steerforth. Steerforth himelf confirmed this w it was stated, and said that he should like to Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 126 begin to se him do it. On beig asked by a mild boy (nt me) h would prod if he did begin to see him do it, h dipped a match ito hi phosphorus-box on purpoe to shed a glare over his reply, and said h would commence by knking him dow with a blow on the forehead from the seven-and-sxpenny ink-bottle that was alays on the mantelpiece. We sat in the dark for s ti, breathles I heard that Mr. Sharp and Mr. Mell were both supposed to be retcedly paid; and that when there was hot and cod meat for dier at Mr. Creakle’s table, Mr. Sharp was alays expeted to say he preferred cold; which was again corroborated by J. Sterforth, the only parlour-boarder. I heard that Mr. Sharp’s wig didn’t fit him; and that he needn’t be so ‘bouneable’—soebody e said ‘bumptious’—about it, beaus his on red hair was very plaiy to be see bed. I heard that on boy, w was a coal-mrchant’s son, came as a set-off against th coal-bill, and was cald, on that account, ‘Exchange or Barter’—a nam sted from the arithmetic book as expresg th arrangemet. I heard that the table beer was a robbery of parents, and th pudding an imposti. I hard that Miss Creakle was regarded by th sc hool in general as beg i ve with Steerforth; and I am sure, as I sat in the dark, thkig of his nice voice, and hi fi face, and his easy mannr, and h curling hair, I thught it very likely. I heard that Mr. Mell was not a bad srt of fellw, but hadn’t a sixpence to bles himelf with; and that there was no doubt that old Mrs. Mel, hi mother, was as poor as job. I thought of my breakfast then, and what had sounded like ‘My Charley!’ but I was, I am glad to remember, as mute as a mous about it. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 127 The hearig of al this, and a good deal more, outlasted the banquet s tim The greater part of the guests had gone to bed as so as the eating and drikig were over; and we, who had remaind wispering and listeing half-undred, at last betok ourselves to bed, too. ‘Good night, young Copperfield,’ said Steerforth ‘I’ll take care of you.’ ‘You’re very kid,’ I gratefuly returned. ‘I am very much oblged to you.’ ‘You haven’t got a sister, have you?’ said Sterforth, yawing. ‘No,’ I answered. ‘That’s a pity,’ said Steerforth. ‘If you had had one, I should think sh would have be a pretty, timd, little, bright-eyed srt of girl. I should have liked to know her. Good night, young Cpperfield.’ ‘Good night, sir,’ I replied. I thought of hi very muc after I went to bed, and raid mysf, I rect, to look at him where he lay in the moonlight, wth his handsome face turnd up, and his head reg easly o is arm. He was a pers of great powr in my eye; that was, of curs, th reas of my mid rung on hi No ved future dimly glanced upo him in th moobeams. Thre was no shadowy picture of his fotsteps, in th garde that I dreamed of walkig in all night. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 128 Chapter 7 MY ‘FIRST HALF’ AT SALEM HOUSE S chool began in earnest nxt day. A profound ipreson was made upo me, I remember, by th roar of voices in the schoolroom suddenly beg hushed as death when Mr. Creakle entered after breakfast, and stod in th doorway lookig round upo us lke a giant i a story-book surveying hi captive Tungay stood at Mr. Creakle’s elbo He had n occason, I thught, to cry out ‘Silence!’ so ferociously, for th boys were al struck spees and motiless. Mr. Creakle was se to speak, and Tungay was heard, to this effect. ‘No, boys, this is a n half. Take care what you’re about, in this new half. Come fre up to th lessons, I advi you, for I come fre up to th punishment. I won’t flch. It w be of no use your rubbig yourseves; you won’t rub the marks out that I sal give you. Now get to work, every boy!’ When th dreadful exordium was over, and Tungay had stumped out agai, Mr. Creakle cam to where I sat, and tod me that if I were famus for biting, he was famus for biting, too. He then showed me the can, and asked m what I thought of that, for a tooth? Was it a sarp tooth, hey? Was it a double tooth, hey? Had it a deep prog, hey? Did it bite, hey? Did it bite? At every question he gave me a flehy cut with it that made m writhe; so I was very soon made free of Sal House (as Steerforth said), and Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 129 was very soo in tears also. Not that I mean to say th were speal marks of distinction, whic only I recved. On the cotrary, a large majority of the boys (especially th smaller on) were visited wth smilar instances of ntic, as Mr. Creakle made the round of the schoolroom. Half the etablishment was writhng and crying, before th day’s wrk began; and ho much of it had writhd and cried before th day’s work was over, I am realy afraid to rect, lt I should s to exaggerate. I should thk thre never can have bee a man wh enjoyed his profesion more than Mr. Creakle did. He had a delght in cutting at the boys, whic was like the satisfaction of a cravig appetite. I am confidet that he couldn’t resist a chubby boy, especially; that thre was a fascination in such a subjet, w made him restless in his mind, until h had sred and marked hi for the day. I was chubby mysf, and ought to know. I am sure wh I thk of th fellow now, my bld rises against h th th disinterested indignation I should fe if I could have known al about hi without having ever be in his power; but it rises hotly, becaus I kn him to have be an incapabl brute, who had no more right to be pod of the great trust he held, than to be Lord High Admral, or Coander-in-Chif—i ether of which capacities it is probable that he would have done infinitely less miscf. Miserabl littl propitiators of a remorss Idol, ho abject w re to hi! What a laun in life I thk it n, on lokig back, to be so mean and servi to a man of such parts and pretes! Here I sit at th desk again, watcng his eye—humbly watcng hs eye, as he rules a cipherig-bok for anthr victim Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 130 w hands have just bee flatted by that idential ruler, and w is trying to wipe th sting out wth a pocket-handkerchief. I have plty to do I do’t watch hi eye i idl, but beaus I am morbidly attracted to it, in a dread desire to kn wat h w do next, and whthr it will be my turn to suffer, or somebody e’s A lane of smal boys beyond me, with th same interest in eye, watch it too. I think he knows it, though he pretends he don’t. He makes dreadful mouth as he rules th cipherig-book; and nw he throws his eye sideways down our lan, and we all droop over our books and tremble. A mot afterwards we are again eyeng him. An unappy culprit, found guity of imperfet exercise, approache at hs coand. Th culprit falters excuses, and profes a determiatin to do better tomorrow. Mr. Creakl cuts a joke before he beats him, and w laugh at it,—mrabl ttle dogs, we laugh, with our visages as white as ashes, and our hearts sikig into our boots. Here I sit at th desk again, on a drosy summer afternn. A buzz and hum go up around me, as if th boys were so many bluebottle A cloggy seati of the lukewarm fat of mat is upon m (we did an hour or two ago), and my head i as heavy as s uc lead. I would give the world to go to sp. I st with my eye on Mr. Creakle, blkig at him lke a young owl; when seep overpowrs me for a minute, he still loos through my slumber, ruling th ciphering-boks, until he softly coms bend me and wake m to plair perceptio of him, with a red ridge across my back. Here I am i the playground, with my eye sti fasated by hi, though I can’t see him The window at a lttle ditan from whic I know he is having his dinner, stands for him, and I eye Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 131 that instead. If he shos his face near it, m assumes an implring and submssive expresion If he looks out through th glas, the bodest boy (Steerforth excepted) stops in the mddl of a shout or yell, and bemes conteplative On day, Traddles (the mt unfortunate boy i the world) breaks that window accidentally, with a bal. I shudder at this moment with th tremendous sati of seeing it do, and feelg that the bal has bounded on to Mr. Creakle’s sacred head. Poor Traddl! In a tight sky-blue suit that made his arm and legs like German sausage, or roly-poy puddings, h was th merrit and most miserable of all th boys. He was alays beig caned—I thk h was caned every day that half-year, except on holiday Monday when he was only ruler’d on both hands—and was always going to write to hi uncl about it, and nver did. After laying his head on th desk for a littl while, he would cher up, sohow, begin to laugh agai, and draw skeetons al over hi ate, before his eyes were dry. I used at first to woder wat comfort Traddles found in drawig sketos; and for some time looked upo him as a srt of hermit, who remided hielf by th symbos of mortality that caning couldn’t last for ever. But I beeve he oy did it beause they were easy, and didn’t want any features. He was very honourable, Traddl was, and held it as a so duty i the boys to stand by one another. He suffered for this on veral occasons; and particularly once, when Steerforth laughed in church, and th Beadle thught it was Traddl, and tok h ut. I see him now, going away in custody, despised by th gregation. He nver said who was the real offender, though he smarted for it next day, and was imprisond so many hours that h Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 132 cam forth with a whole curchyard-full of skeetons sarmg al ver his Latin Dictionary. But he had his reard. Sterforth said there was nothing of the snak i Traddl, and we all felt that to be the highest prai For my part, I could have gone through a god deal (thugh I was much less brave than Traddl, and nothing like so old) to have won such a rempen To se Sterforth walk to church before us, arm-in-arm with Miss Creakle, was o of th great sights of my life. I didn’t thk Miss Creakle equal to littl Em’ly in poit of beauty, and I didn’t lve her (I didn’t dare); but I thought her a young lady of extraordiary attractio, and in pot of gentity nt to be urpasd. Wh Sterforth, i white trousers, carried her paras for her, I felt proud to know him; and believed that she could nt choose but adore him with al her heart. Mr. Sharp and Mr. Mel re both notabl personages i my eyes; but Steerforth was to them what the sun was to two stars Steerforth cotiued his protection of me, and proved a very useful friend; since nobody dared to any one whom he honoured with his countenane. He culdn’t—or at al events he didn’t—defend m from Mr. Creakle, who was very severe with ; but wenever I had been treated worse than usual, he alays told me that I wanted a littl of his pluck, and that h wuldn’t have stood it himf; whic I felt he intended for encurageent, and codered to be very kid of hi There was oe advantage, and only one that I know of, in Mr. Creakle’s severity. He found my placard in his way wh he came up or dow behnd th form which I sat, and wanted to make a cut at me in passg; for this reason it was soo taken off, and I saw it no more An accidental circumstance cemented th intimacy betw Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 133 Sterforth and me, in a manner that inpired me with great pride and satisfacti, thugh it sometimes led to innveien It happed o one occas, when he was dog me the honour of talkig to m i the playground, that I hazarded the observati that something or somebody—I forget what now—was like something or somebody in Peregri Pikle. He said nothing at the tim; but when I was going to bed at night, asked me if I had got that book? I told hi n, and explaid how it was that I had read it, and al those other books of whic I have made metin. ‘And do you reect them?’ Steerforth said. ‘Oh yes,’ I replied; I had a god memory, and I believed I rellected th very we ‘Th I te you what, young Copperfield,’ said Steerforth, ‘you sal tell ’e to me I can’t get to slp very early at nght, and I genrally wake rather early in the mornig. We’ll go over ’e one after anothr. We’ll make some regular Arabian Nights of it.’ I felt extremy flattered by this arranget, and we commenced carrying it into exeution that very eveing. What ravages I comitted on my favourite authrs in th course of my iterpretation of them, I am not in a conditin to say, and should be very unwilg to know; but I had a profound faith in them, and I had, to th best of my belief, a simple, earnt manner of narrating what I did narrate; and th qualities went a long way. The drawback was, that I was often slpy at nght, or out of spirits and indisposed to resume th story; and th it was rathr hard wrk, and it must be don; for to disappoint or to displease Sterforth was of course out of the question. In the mornig, too, when I felt weary, and should have enjoyed another hour’s repo Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 134 very much, it was a tiresome thing to be rousd, like th Sultana Scheherazade, and forced ito a lg story before the getting-up be rang; but Sterforth was resute; and as he explaid to m, in return, my sums and exercises, and anythng in my tasks that was to hard for me, I was no loser by th transaction. Let me do myself justice, hover. I was moved by no iterested or selfish motive, nor was I moved by fear of him. I admired and loved hi, and his approval was return enugh. It was so precious to me that I look back on these trifl, nw, with an acg heart. Steerforth was coderate, too; and showed hi cderati, in on particular instance, in an unflchig manr that was a littl tantalizing, I suspect, to poor Traddles and th rest. Peggotty’s promd letter—what a cofortabl ltter it was!— arrived before ‘th half’ was many weks old; and with it a cake in a perfet nest of oranges, and tw bottl of cowlip w This treasure, as i duty bound, I laid at the feet of Steerforth, and begged him to dispense. ‘No, I’ll te you what, young Copperfield,’ said he: ‘th wi shall be kept to wet your whistle wh you are story-telling.’ I blusd at th idea, and begged hi, in my modesty, not to think of it. But he said he had observed I was somtimes hoars— a littl ropy was his exact expresion—and it should be, every drop, devoted to th purpo he had mentioned. Accordigly, it was locked up in his box, and drawn off by hf in a phial, and admiistered to me through a piece of quill in th cork, wh I was suppod to be in want of a restorative Sometimes, to make it a more sovereign specfic, he was so kind as to squeze orange juice into it, or to stir it up with ginger, or dissve a peppermt drop in it; and althugh I cannot assert that th flavour was Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 135 improved by th experiments, or that it was exactly th pound one would have chose for a stomac, the last thing at night and the first thing i the morng, I drank it gratefully and was very sensible of his attention. We s, to me, to have been mths over Peregri, and month more over th othr stories. Th institution never flagged for want of a story, I am certain; and th wi lasted out almost as wel as the matter. Poor Traddl—I never think of that boy but wth a strange disposition to laugh, and with tears in my eye— was a sort of chorus, in geral; and affected to be convuld wth mirth at th comic parts, and to be overcome with fear wh thre as any passage of an alarming character in th narrative Th rather put m out, very often It was a great jest of his, I rect, to pretend that he culdn’t kep his teeth from chattering, wver mention was made of an Alguazill in conxion with th adventure of Gil Blas; and I remember that wh Gil Blas met th captain of th robbers in Madrid, this unlucky joker cunterfeited suc an ague of terror, that he was overheard by Mr. Creakl, who was prowlig about the pasage, and handsy flogged for dirderly coduct in the bedroom. Whatever I had wthin me that was romantic and dreamy, was euraged by so muc story-telg in the dark; and in that respet the pursuit may not have be very profitable to me. But th beg cherished as a kind of plaything i my room, and the conscus that this acplist of mi was bruited about among the boys, and attracted a good deal of ntic to me though I was the youngest there, stiulated me to exertion. In a shool carried on by seer cruelty, whthr it is presided over by a dunce or not, thre is not likely to be much learnt. I belve our boys were, gerally, as Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 136 ignrant a st as any shoolboys in existence; they were too muc troubld and knocked about to learn; they could n more do that to advantage, than any on can do anythng to advantage i a life of cotant mifortune, tormet, and worry. But my lttle vanty, and Steerforth’s help, urged m on show; and without saving me fro much, if anythng, in th way of punishment, made me, for the tim I was there, an excpti to the genral body, insomuch that I did steadily pick up some crumbs of knledge In this I was much assisted by Mr. Me, w had a liking for me that I am grateful to rember. It alays gave me pai to observe that Steerforth treated him with systemati diparagemet, and seldom lost an occasion of wounding his fegs, or inducng others to do so This troubld m the more for a log tim, beause I had s told Steerforth, from whom I could n more kep suc a secret, than I could keep a cake or any othr tangible possession, about the two old wome Mr. Mel had taken me to se; and I was always afraid that Sterforth would let it out, and twit him with it. We little thought, any one of us, I dare say, when I ate my breakfast that first morning, and went to slp under the shadow of the peacock’s feathers to the sound of the flute, what cquence would co of the introduction ito those almhuses of my insignfiant pers. But th visit had its unfore nseque; and of a serius sort, to, in thr way. One day wh Mr. Creakle kept th house fro indisposition, whic naturaly diffused a lively joy through the shool, there was a god deal of noise in th course of th morning’s wrk. Th great relief and satisfacti expericed by th boys made th difficult to manage; and though the dreaded Tungay brought his woode leg in twice or thrice, and tok notes of th principal offenders’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 137 names, no great impression was made by it, as thy were pretty sure of getting into troubl tomorrow, do what they would, and thought it wis, no doubt, to enjoy themve today. It was, properly, a half-hiday; beig Saturday. But as th noise in th playground would have disturbed Mr. Creakl, and the weather was not favourabl for going out walkig, we were ordered into school in the afternoon, and set s lghter tasks than usual, whic were made for the occas It was the day of the week on whic Mr. Sharp went out to get hi wig curled; s Mr. Mel, who always did the drudgery, whatever it was, kept shool by himf. If I could asate the idea of a bul or a bear with anyone so md as Mr. Mell, I should think of hi, i xion with that afternoon when the uproar was at its height, as of one of those anal, baited by a thousand dogs. I recall hi bedig his acng head, supported on his bony hand, over th book on h dek, and wretchedly endeavouring to get on with his tires work, amidst an uproar that mght have made the Speaker of th Hous of Commons giddy. Boys started in and out of their plac, playig at pus in the corner with other boys; there re laughng boys, singing boys, talking boys, dancing boys, hling boys; boys shuffld with thr fet, boys whrled about hm, grinning, making faces, mimickig him behd h back and before his eye; mimicking his poverty, his bots, his coat, hi ther, everythig begig to him that they should have had consideration for. ‘Silence!’ cried Mr. Mell, suddely rising up, and striking hi desk wth th bok. ‘What doe this mean! It’s impossible to bear it. It’s maddeng. How can you do it to me, boys?’ It was my bok that he struck his desk with; and as I stod Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 138 beside hi, foing his eye as it glanced round th ro, I saw th boys all stop, some suddenly surprid, some half afraid, and some sorry perhaps. Steerforth’s place was at the bottom of the school, at the opposite end of th long ro. He was lounging wth his back against th wal, and his hands in his pockets, and looked at Mr. Mell with his mouth shut up as if he were whistlg, wh Mr. Me ooked at hi ‘Si, Mr. Sterforth!’ said Mr. Mell ‘Silence yourself,’ said Sterforth, turning red. ‘Whom are you talkig to?’ ‘Sit dow,’ said Mr. Me ‘Sit dow yourself,’ said Steerforth, ‘and mind your busss.’ There was a titter, and so applaus; but Mr. Mel was s ite, that silence immediatey succeeded; and on boy, wh had darted out bed hi to imtate his mther agai, changed his mind, and preteded to want a pen meded. ‘If you thk, Steerforth,’ said Mr. Me, ‘that I am not acquaited with the power you can establih over any md here’—he laid his hand, without codering what he did (as I suppod), upon my head—‘or that I have not obsrved you, within a few miutes, urging your juniors on to every srt of outrage against me, you are mistake’ ‘I do’t give mysf the troubl of thinkig at al about you,’ said Sterforth, coolly; ‘s I’m not mistaken, as it happens.’ ‘And w you make us of your position of favouritism here, sir,’ pursued Mr. Mell, with his lip treblg very much, ‘to insult a gentleman—’ ‘A what?—wre is he?’ said Sterforth Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 139 Here somebody cried out, ‘Shame, J. Sterforth! To bad!’ It was Traddl; wh Mr. Mell instantly discfited by biddig hi hold hi tongue. —‘To insult on wh is not fortunate in life, sir, and wh never gave you the least offen, and the many reasons for not iultig whom you are old enough and wis enough to understand,’ said Mr. Mel, with his lps tremblig more and more, ‘you cot a mean and base acti. You can sit dow or stand up as you please, sir. Copperfield, go on.’ ‘Young Cpperfield,’ said Sterforth, coming forward up th ro, ‘stop a bit. I te you what, Mr. Me, on for al When you take the liberty of callg me man or bas, or anything of that sort, you are an impudent beggar. You are alays a beggar, you know; but wh you do that, you are an impudent beggar.’ I am nt clar whether he was going to strike Mr. Mell, or Mr. Mell was going to strike him, or thre was any such intention o either side. I saw a rigidity co upon the whole shool as if they had been turnd into stone, and found Mr. Creakle in the midst of us, with Tungay at his side, and Mrs and Mi Creakle lookig i at th dor as if thy were frighted. Mr. Me, with hi elbo on is desk and his face in his hands, sat, for some moments, quite still. ‘Mr. Mel,’ said Mr. Creakl, sakig hi by the arm; and hi isper was so audibl now, that Tungay felt it uncesary to repeat his words; ‘you have not forgotten yourself, I hope?’ ‘No, sir, no,’ returnd th Master, shoing h face, and shaking his had, and rubbig his hands in great agitation. ‘No, sir. No. I have rebered mysf, I—n, Mr. Creakle, I have nt forgotte myself, I—I have remembered myself, sir. I—I—could wish you Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 140 had rebered me a little sooner, Mr. Creakle. It—it—wuld have be more kind, sir, more just, sir. It would have saved me something, sir.’ Mr. Creakl, lookig hard at Mr. Mell, put hi hand on Tungay’s houlder, and got his feet upon the form cose by, and sat upon the dek. After sti lookig hard at Mr. Mel from hi throne, as he shook hi head, and rubbed his hands, and remaied i the sam tate of agitati, Mr. Creakle turned to Steerforth, and said: ‘No, sir, as he don’t condescend to te me, what is this?’ Steerforth evaded the question for a little whe; lookig i scorn and anger on his opponent, and remaining slent. I could not hlp thking eve in that interval, I remember, what a nobl fellow h was in appearance, and ho hoy and plain Mr. Me ooked oppod to him ‘What did he man by talkig about favourite, then?’ said Steerforth at legth ‘Favourites?’ repeated Mr. Creakl, with th veins in hi forehead swellig quickly. ‘Who talked about favourites?’ ‘He did,’ said Steerforth ‘And pray, what did you mean by that, sir?’ demanded Mr. reakle, turning angriy on his assistant. ‘I meant, Mr. Creakle,’ he returned in a l voice, ‘as I said; that no pupil had a right to avail himself of his position of favouritism to degrade me’ ‘To degrade you?’ said Mr. Creakle. ‘My stars! But give me leave to ask you, Mr. What’s-your-name’; and here Mr. Creakle folded his arms, cane and all, upo hi chet, and made such a knot of his brows that his little eyes were hardly visble be them; ‘whether, wen you talk about favourites, you showed Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 141 proper respect to me? To me, sir,’ said Mr. Creakl, darting h ad at him suddenly, and drawig it back again, ‘th principal of th establhment, and your employer.’ ‘It was not judicious, sir, I am wiing to admt,’ said Mr. Mell. ‘I should nt have do s, if I had been cool.’ Here Sterforth struck in ‘Th he said I was mean, and th he said I was base, and then I cald him a beggar. If I had been cool, perhaps I shouldn’t have calld hi a beggar. But I did, and I am ready to take the cequenc of it.’ Withut considering, perhaps, whthr thre wre any cquence to be take, I felt quite in a glow at this gallant speech. It made an impreson on the boys too, for there was a lo tir amg them, though no one spoke a word. ‘I am surprisd, Steerforth—although your candour do you honour,’ said Mr. Creakle, ‘does you honour, certaiy—I am surprised, Sterforth, I must say, that you should attach such an pitht to any pers eplyed and paid in Salem Hous, sir.’ Steerforth gave a short laugh. ‘That’s not an answer, sir,’ said Mr. Creakle, ‘to my reark. I expect more than that fro you, Steerforth’ If Mr. Me looked homely, in my eyes, before the hands boy, it wuld be quite impossibl to say ho hoy Mr. Creakle lked. ‘Let him deny it,’ said Steerforth ‘Deny that he is a beggar, Steerforth?’ crid Mr. Creakle. ‘Why, were do he go a-beggig?’ ‘If he is nt a beggar himf, his near relatio’s on,’ said Steerforth. ‘It’s al the sam.’ He glanced at me, and Mr. Me’s hand gently patted m upo Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 142 the shoulder. I looked up with a flush upon my fac and remorse my heart, but Mr. Mel’s eye were fixed on Sterforth. He ctiued to pat m kindly on the shoulder, but he looked at him ‘Since you expect me, Mr. Creakl, to justify myself,’ said Steerforth, ‘and to say what I mean,—what I have to say is, that h mothr lives on charity in an alms-huse.’ Mr. Mell still looked at him, and still patted me kindly o th shoulder, and said to hif, in a whisper, if I hard right: ‘Ye, I thought so’ Mr. Creakl turned to his astant, with a severe frown and laboured polte: ‘No, you hear what this gentleman says, Mr. Me Have th godness, if you please, to set him right before th assembled shool.’ ‘He is right, sir, without correcti,’ returned Mr. Mel, in the midst of a dead silece; ‘what he has said is true.’ ‘Be so good then as deare publy, wi you,’ said Mr. Creakle, putting his head on one side, and rollig his eyes round the shool, ‘whthr it ever came to my knowledge until this moment?’ ‘I beeve not directly,’ he returned. ‘Why, you kn not,’ said Mr. Creakle. ‘Don’t you, man?’ ‘I appred you never supposed my worldly circumtan to be very god,’ replied th assistant. ‘You kn what my position is, and alays has be, here.’ ‘I appred, if you come to that,’ said Mr. Creakl, with h veins swelling again bigger than ever, ‘that you’ve bee in a wrog poti altogether, and mitook this for a carity school. Mr. Mel, w’ll part, if you please. Th soor th better.’ ‘Thre is no time,’ answered Mr. Me, rising, ‘like the preset.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 143 ‘Sir, to you!’ said Mr. Creakle. ‘I take my leave of you, Mr. Creakle, and al of you,’ said Mr. Mell, glancing round th ro, and again patting me gently on th houlders ‘Jam Steerforth, the bet wi I can lave you is that you may come to be ashamed of what you have done today. At present I wuld prefer to see you anythig rather than a frid, to me, or to anyo in wh I feel an interest.’ One mre he laid hi hand upon my shoulder; and then takig his flute and a fe boks fro hs desk, and leaving th key in it for his sucor, he went out of the school, with hi property under hi arm Mr. Creakle then made a speech, through Tungay, in wich h thanked Sterforth for asserting (thugh perhaps to army) the indepedenc and repectabity of Sal House; and wich h wund up by shaking hands with Sterforth, while we gave three crs—I did nt quite know what for, but I suppod for Steerforth, and so joind in them ardetly, though I felt mrable. Mr. Creakle then cand Toy Traddl for beg discovered in tears, instead of chers, on account of Mr. Me’s departure; and went back to hi sofa, or his bed, or wherever he had co from. We were left to oursve no, and loked very blank, I rellect, on on anthr. For myself, I felt so much self-reproach and cotritio for my part in what had happed, that nthing would have enabld m to kep back my tears but the fear that Steerforth, who often looked at me, I saw, mght think it unfriendly—or, I should rathr say, considerig our relative age, and the feeg with whic I regarded hi, undutiful—if I showed th etion wich distressed me. He was very angry with Traddl, and said he was glad he had caught it. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 144 Poor Traddl, who had pasd the stage of lyig with hi head upon the dek, and was relvig himf as usual with a burst of skeletos, said he didn’t care. Mr. Me was il-used. ‘Who has il-used him, you girl?’ said Steerforth. ‘Why, you have,’ returned Traddles. ‘What have I do?’ said Steerforth. ‘What have you do?’ retorted Traddl ‘Hurt his feegs, and lost him his situati.’ ‘His feings?’ repeated Sterforth disdainfully. ‘Hi feings wil soon get the better of it, I’ll be bound. His feegs are nt like yours, Miss Traddl As to his situation—which was a precious , was’t it?—do you suppose I am not going to write ho, and take care that he gets so my? Poy?’ We thought this intenti very noble in Sterforth, whose mothr was a widow, and rich, and wuld do almost anythng, it was said, that h asked hr. We were all extrey glad to se Traddl so put down, and exalted Sterforth to the ski: especially w h told us, as he condescended to do, that what he ad done had bee done expresly for us, and for our caus; and that h had conferred a great bo upo us by unlfishly doig it. But I must say that when I was going on with a story in the dark that nght, Mr. Mel’s old flute sed mre than on to sound mournfully in my ears; and that wh at last Sterforth was tired, and I lay dow in my bed, I fancied it playing so sorrofully sere, that I was quite wretced. I soon forgot him in the cotemplati of Steerforth, who, i an easy amateur way, and wthout any book (he seed to me to know everything by heart), took s of hi clas until a n aster was found. The nw master cam from a gramar school; Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 145 and before he entered on his duties, did in the parlour one day, to be introduced to Steerforth. Steerforth approved of hi highly, and told us he was a Brick. Without exactly understandig what learned distiction was meant by this, I respected him greatly for it, and had n doubt whatever of his superior knowledge: though he nver took the pai with me—not that I was anybody—that Mr. Mel had take There was only one other event in this half-year, out of the daiy shool-life, that made an impreson upon me whic sti survives It survive for many reasons On afternoon, when we were al harasd into a state of dire confusion, and Mr. Creakl was laying about him dreadfully, Tungay came in, and called out in his usual strong way: ‘Visitors for Copperfield!’ A few words were interchanged betwee him and Mr. Creakl, as, wh th visitors were, and what ro thy wre to be sho to; and then I, who had, acrdig to custom, stood up on the anunct beg made, and felt quite faint with astonit, was told to go by the back stairs and get a can fril on, before I repaired to the dig-room. The orders I obeyed, in suc a flutter and hurry of my young spirits as I had never knn before; and when I got to the parlour door, and the thought cam into my head that it might be my mother—I had only thought of Mr. or Miss Murdsto unti th—I dre back my hand fro th lock, and stopped to have a sob before I went in t first I saw nobody; but feeg a preure agait the door, I looked round it, and there, to my amazet, were Mr. Peggotty and Ham, duckig at m with their hats, and squeezig o another agait the wall I could not help laughing; but it was Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 146 much more in th pleasure of seeng th, than at th appearance they made We shook hands in a very cordial way; and I laughed and laughd, until I puld out my pocket-handkerchief and wiped my eyes Mr. Peggotty (who never shut hi muth onc, I rember, during th visit) shod great conrn wh he saw me do this, and nudged Ham to say something. ‘Chr up, Mas’r Davy bor’!’ said Ham, in his smperig way. ‘Why, how you have growed!’ ‘Am I gro?’ I said, dryig my eyes. I was nt cryig at anything i particular that I know of; but sohow it made me cry, to see old friends. ‘Growed, Mas’r Davy bor’? Ai’t he growed!’ said Ham ‘Ai’t he groed!’ said Mr. Peggotty. They made m laugh agai by laughing at eac other, and then w all thre laughd until I was in danger of crying again. ‘Do you know how mama is, Mr. Peggotty?’ I said. ‘And how my dear, dear, old Peggotty is?’ ‘Onmmon,’ said Mr. Peggotty. ‘And little Em’ly, and Mrs. Gumdge?’ ‘On—co,’ said Mr. Peggotty. There was a s Mr. Peggotty, to relve it, took two prodigious lobsters, and an enrmous crab, and a large canvas bag of shrimps, out of hi pockets, and piled th up in Ham’s arms. ‘You see,’ said Mr. Peggotty, ‘kng as you was partial to a lttle rel with your wittle when you was along with us, we took the liberty. The old Mawther bid ’e, sh did. Mrs. Gumdge bid ’e Yes,’ said Mr. Peggotty, slowly, who I thought appeared to stik to the subjet on acunt of having no other subjet ready, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 147 ‘Mrs. Gumidge, I do assure you, she bid ’em.’ I expred my thanks; and Mr. Peggotty, after lookig at Ham, w stod smiling shepishly over th shellfish, withut making any attempt to help him, said: ‘We co, you see, the wid and tide makig in our favour, i one of our Yarmouth lugs to Graves’. My ster se wrote to m the nam of th here place, and wrote to me as if ever I cand to me to Grave’, I was to come over and inquire for Mas’r Davy and give her dooty, humbly wisg hi well and reporting of the fam’ly as they was onon toe-be-sure. Little Em’ly, you see, she’ll write to my sister wh I go back, as I se you and as you was similarly o, and so we make it quite a merry-gorounder.’ I was obliged to cder a lttle before I understood what Mr. Peggotty mant by this figure, expreve of a coplte crc of itellge I then thanked him heartily; and said, with a consciusness of reddeing, that I supposed littl Em’ly was altered to, since we usd to pick up shels and pebbles o th beach? ‘She’s getting to be a woman, that’s wot sh’s getting to be,’ said Mr. Peggotty. ‘Ak hi .’ He meant Ham, who beamed with deght and ast over the bag of shrimps. ‘Her pretty fac!’ said Mr. Peggotty, with his own shg lke a lght. ‘Her learng!’ said Ham. ‘Her writing!’ said Mr. Peggotty. ‘Why it’s as black as jet! And so large it is, you might see it anywres.’ It was perfectly deghtful to behold with what enthusias Mr. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 148 Peggotty became inspired wh he thught of his littl favourite He stands before me agai, his bluff hairy fac irradiatig with a joyful love and pride, for which I can find no description. Hi honest eyes fire up, and sparkle, as if their depths were stirred by something bright. His broad chet heave with pleasure. Hi strong loo hands clench thlve, in his earntnss; and h phasze what he says with a right arm that shows, i my pigmy vi, like a sldge-hammer. Ham was quite as earnt as he I dare say thy wuld have said muc more about her, if they had not been abashed by the unexpeted cg in of Steerforth, who, seeing me i a crner speakig wth tw strangers, stopped in a song he was singing, and said: ‘I didn’t know you were here, young Copperfield!’ (for it was not th usual visitig ro) and crod by us on his way out. I am not sure wthr it was in th pride of havig such a frid as Steerforth, or in the dere to explai to him how I cam to have suc a friend as Mr. Peggotty, that I cald to him as he was going away. But I said, modestly—Good Heave, ho it al back to me this log tim afterwards!— ‘Don’t go, Steerforth, if you pleas. Th are two Yarmouth boatm—very kind, good pepl—who are relations of my nurse, and have come fro Graved to see me.’ ‘Aye, aye?’ said Sterforth, returnig. ‘I am glad to s them How are you both?’ Thre was an ease in his manner—a gay and light manr it was, but not swaggering—which I still believe to have born a kind of enchantmt with it. I still believe him, in virtue of this carriage, his animal spirits, his delghtful voice, his handsome face and figure, and, for aught I know, of so inborn power of attraction Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 149 besides (wich I thk a fe people posss), to have carrid a spel wth him to which it was a natural weakne to yid, and wich not many perss could wthstand. I could not but se h pleasd they were with him, and how they seemed to open their harts to him in a moment. ‘You must let them kn at hoe, if you please, Mr. Peggotty,’ I said, ‘whn that letter is sent, that Mr. Sterforth is very kind to , and that I do’t know what I should ever do here without hi’ ‘Nonse!’ said Sterforth, laughng. ‘You mustn’t te th anything of the sort.’ ‘And if Mr. Sterforth ever c ito Norfolk or Suffolk, Mr. Peggotty,’ I said, ‘whle I am thre, you may depend upo it I shal brig hi to Yarmouth, if he wil lt me, to se your house You nver saw suc a good house, Steerforth. It’s made out of a boat!’ ‘Made out of a boat, is it?’ said Steerforth ‘It’s the right sort of a house for suc a thorough-built boatman’ ‘So ’tis, sir, so ’ti, sir,’ said Ham, gring. ‘You’re right, young gen’l’m’n! Mas’r Davy bor’, gen’l’m’n’s right. A through-built boatman! Hor, hor! That’s what he is, to!’ Mr. Peggotty was no le plasd than his neph, though his modesty forbade him to claim a persal compliment so vociferously. ‘Well, sir,’ he said, bong and chuckling, and tucking i th ends of hi nkercf at his breast: ‘I thankee, sr, I thankee! I do my endeavours in my line of life, sir.’ ‘Th best of men can do no more, Mr. Peggotty,’ said Steerforth He had got his nam already. ‘I’ll pound it, it’s wot you do yourself, sir,’ said Mr. Peggotty, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 150 sakig his head, ‘and wot you do wel—right well! I thanke, sir. I’m obleeged to you, sr, for your weg maner of me. I’m rough, sir, but I’m ready—last ways, I hope I’m ready, you unnrstand. My house ai’t muc for to se, sr, but it’s hearty at your service if ever you should come alg with Mas’r Davy to see it. I’m a reg’lar Dodman, I am,’ said Mr. Peggotty, by which he meant snail, and this was in allus to his beg sl to go, for he had attempted to go after every ste, and had show or othr come back again; ‘but I wish you both well, and I wish you happy!’ Ham ehoed this stit, and we parted with them in the heartiet manr. I was alt tempted that eveg to tel Sterforth about pretty little Em’ly, but I was too timd of mtig her nam, and too muc afraid of his laughing at m I rember that I thought a good deal, and in an unasy srt of way, about Mr. Peggotty having said that s was getting o to be a woman; but I decded that was nonsen We tranported the shfi, or the ‘reh’ as Mr. Peggotty had modestly cald it, up into our ro unbserved, and made a great supper that eveg. But Traddl couldn’t get happily out of it. He was to unfortunate eve to come through a supper like anybody e He was take il in the night—quite prostrate he was—i consequen of Crab; and after beg drugged with black draughts and blue pi, to an extent whic Depl (whose father was a doctor) said was enugh to underm a hrse’s constituti, received a caning and six chapters of Grek Testamt for refusig to cofe Th rest of th half-year is a jumble in my reti of th daiy strife and struggle of our lives; of the wanng sumr and Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 151 the changing season; of the frosty mornigs when we were rung out of bed, and the cod, cld sm of the dark nights when we were rung into bed agai; of the evenig schoolroom diy lghted and indifferently warmed, and the mrng schoolroom whic was thing but a great shverig-mac; of the alternati of bod bef with roast bef, and bod mutton with roast mutton; of cods f bread-and-butter, dog’s-eared lesson-books, cracked slate, tear-blotted copy-boks, canings, rulerings, hair-cuttings, rainy Sundays, suet-puddings, and a dirty atmosphere of ink, surrounding all. I well remeber though, how the ditant idea of the holidays, after seeg for an immen time to be a stationary speck, began to c towards us, and to grow and grow. How from counting month, we came to weks, and th to days; and ho I th began to be afraid that I should not be sent for and w I learnt from Steerforth that I had been set for, and was certainly to go h, had dim forebodings that I might break my leg first. Ho th breaking-up day changed its place fast, at last, fro th wek after next to next week, this week, the day after tomorrow, tomorrow, today, tonight—when I was inde the Yarmouth mai, and going home I had many a broke sleep inside th Yarmuth mail, and many an ioheret dream of al the thgs. But wen I awoke at iterval, the ground outside the window was nt the playground of Salem Hous, and th sound in my ears was not th sound of Mr. Creakl giving it to Traddl, but the sound of the cacan touchig up the horse Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 152 Chapter 8 MY HOLIDAYS. ESPECIALLY ONE HAPPY AFTERNOON W hen w arrived before day at the in where the mai stopped, which was not th inn whre my friend th aiter lived, I was sho up to a nice littl bedro, with DOLPHIN paited on the door. Very cold I was, I know, ntwithstandig the hot tea they had given me before a large fire downstairs; and very glad I was to turn into the Dophi’s bed, pul the Dophi’s blankets round my head, and go to slp. Mr. Barki the carrier was to call for me in the morning at ni o’cock. I got up at eight, a little giddy from the shortne of my nght’s rest, and was ready for him before the appoted tim He received me exactly as if not five minutes had elapsed since we were last together, and I had ony be ito the hotel to get cange for sixpen, or somethg of that sort. so as I and my box were in the cart, and the carrier seated, th lazy horse walked away with us all at his accustod pace. ‘You look very wll, Mr. Barkis,’ I said, thinking he would like to know it. Mr. Barkis rubbed his chek with hs cuff, and th looked at his cuff as if he expected to fid some of th bl upo it; but made no othr acknowledget of th compliment. ‘I gave your message, Mr. Barkis,’ I said: ‘I wrote to Peggotty.’ ‘Ah!’ said Mr. Barkis. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 153 Mr. Barki seemed gruff, and anered driy. ‘Was’t it right, Mr. Barki?’ I asked, after a little hestatin. ‘Why, no,’ said Mr. Barkis. ‘Not the meage?’ ‘Th message was right enugh, perhaps,’ said Mr. Barkis; ‘but it co to an end there.’ Not understanding what he meant, I repeated inquisitivey: ‘Came to an end, Mr. Barki?’ ‘Nothing co of it,’ he explaid, lookig at m sideways. ‘No answer.’ ‘Thre was an answer expected, was thre, Mr. Barkis?’ said I, opeg my eye For this was a nw light to me ‘Whe a man says he’s wi’,’ said Mr. Barkis, turng hi glance slly on me again, ‘it’s as much as to say, that man’s awaitin’ for a answer.’ ‘We, Mr. Barki?’ ‘Well,’ said Mr. Barkis, carrying his eye back to his horse’s ears; ‘that man’s been a-waiti’ for a aner ever sie.’ ‘Have you told her so, Mr. Barki?’ ‘No—n,’ growled Mr. Barki, refleting about it. ‘I ai’t got n I call to go and te her so. I never said sx wrds to hr myself, ain’t a-goin’ to tell her so’ ‘Would you like me to do it, Mr. Barkis?’ said I, doubtfuly. ‘You might tell her, if you would,’ said Mr. Barkis, wth anothr slow look at me, ‘that Barkis was a-waiti’ for a answer. Says you— wat name is it?’ ‘Her name?’ ‘Ah!’ said Mr. Barkis, with a nd of his head. ‘Peggotty.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 154 ‘Crisen name? Or nat’ral name?’ said Mr. Barkis. ‘Oh, it’s not her Christian name. Her Christian name is Clara.’ ‘Is it thugh?’ said Mr. Barkis. He seemed to find an ime fund of refletion in this circumstance, and sat ponderig and inwardly wistling for some tim ‘Well!’ h resumed at lgth. ‘Says you, “Peggotty! Barkis is waitin’ for a answer.” Says she, perhaps, “Answer to what?” Says you, “To what I tod you.” “What is that?” says she. “Barkis i ’,” says you.’ This extrey artful suggestion Mr. Barki accompanied with a nudge of his ebo that gave me quite a stitch in my side. After that, he slouched over his horse in his usual manner; and made n other referen to the subjet excpt, half an hour afterwards, taking a pi of chalk fro hi pocket, and writing up, inside th tilt of the cart, ‘Clara Peggotty’—apparently as a private memorandum Ah, what a strange feing it was to be gog h w it was t home, and to find that every object I looked at, remided m of th happy old ho, which was like a dream I could never dream again! Th days wh my mothr and I and Peggotty were all in al to one another, and there was n one to co between us, ro up before me s sorrowfully on the road, that I am not sure I was glad to be there—nt sure but that I would rather have remaid away, and forgotten it in Sterforth’s company. But thre I was; and soon I was at our house, where the bare old el-trees wrung their many hands i the bleak wintry air, and shreds of the old rooks’-nets drifted away upo the wind. The carrier put my box do at the garde-gate, and lft me I Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 155 walked along the path towards the house, glancg at the wdows, and fearig at every step to see Mr. Murdstone or Mi Murdstone lowering out of one of them. No fac appeared, however; and beg co to the house, and knowing how to open the door, before dark, without knockig, I went in with a quiet, timid step. God kns h infanti th memory may have bee, that was awakened with me by th sound of my mothr’s voice in th od parlur, wh I set fot in th hall. She was singing i a low to. I think I must have lai in her arm, and heard her sigig so to m when I was but a baby. The strai was nw to me, and yet it was s d that it filled my heart bri-ful; like a friend com back fro a long absence. I believed, from the sotary and thoughtful way in whic my mther murmured her sog, that she was alone. Ad I wt sftly ito the room. Sh was sitting by the fire, sucklng an ifant, whose tiny hand she held against her nek. Her eyes were lookig dow upo its face, and she sat singing to it. I was so far right, that se had n other copan I spoke to her, and she started, and cried out. But seeng me, she called me her dear Davy, her own boy! and cong half across th ro to meet me, knd dow upo th ground and kissed me, and laid my had dow on her bosom near th littl creature that was nestling thre, and put its hand to my lips. I wish I had died. I wish I had died th, with that feing in my heart! I should have been mre fit for Heaven than I ever have been sie. ‘He is your brothr,’ said my mother, fondlg me. ‘Davy, my pretty boy! My poor child!’ Th she kissed me mre and more, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 156 and clasped me round th neck. This she was doing w Peggotty cam runnig in, and bounced down on the ground bede us, and went mad about us both for a quarter of an hour. It seemed that I had nt be expeted s soon, the carrier beg much before his usual time. It seed, to, that Mr. and Miss Murdsto had go out upo a visit i th neighbour hood, and would nt return before night. I had never hoped for this I had never thught it possible that we thre could be togethr undisturbed, oce more; and I felt, for th time, as if th old days re come back. We did together by the firesde Peggotty was in attendanc to wait upo us, but my mothr wouldn’t let her do it, and made her di with us. I had my own old plate, with a brown view of a man-of-war in full sai upon it, which Peggotty had hoarded somewre all th time I had bee away, and wuld not have had broke, she said, for a hundred pounds. I had my on od mug wth David on it, and my own old littl knife and fork that wuldn’t cut. Wh we were at tabl, I thought it a favourabl ocas to tel Peggotty about Mr. Barki, who, before I had finised what I had to tel her, began to laugh, and throw her apron over her fac ‘Peggotty,’ said my mother. ‘What’s the matter?’ Peggotty only laughed the mre, and held her apron tight over hr face wh my mothr tried to pull it away, and sat as if hr had were in a bag. ‘What are you doig, you stupid creature?’ said my mothr, laughng. ‘Oh, drat the man!’ cried Peggotty. ‘He wants to marry me.’ ‘It wuld be a very god matc for you; wouldn’t it?’ said my Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 157 mothr. ‘Oh! I don’t kn,’ said Peggotty. ‘Don’t ask me. I wouldn’t have m if he was made of god. Nor I wouldn’t have anybody.’ ‘Thn, why don’t you tell him so, you ridiculous thg?’ said my mothr. ‘Te hi s,’ retorted Peggotty, lookig out of her apron. ‘He has never said a word to me about it. He knows better. If he was to make so bold as say a word to me, I should slap his face.’ Her own was as red as ever I saw it, or any other fac, I think; but she only covered it again, for a fe moments at a ti, w was take with a violet fit of laughter; and after two or three of those attacks, went on with her dir. I remarked that my mother, though s sd when Peggotty looked at her, beam more srious and thoughtful. I had seen at first that she was changed. Her face was very pretty still, but it looked careworn, and too deate; and her hand was so thin and white that it sed to me to be almt transparet. But the change to which I now refer was superadded to this: it was in her manner, which beame anxius and fluttered. At last she said, putting out her hand, and laying it affectinately on the hand of her old servant, ‘Peggotty, dear, you are not going to be married?’ ‘Me, ma’am?’ returned Peggotty, staring. ‘Lord blss you, no!’ ‘Not just yet?’ said my mother, tederly. ‘Never!’ crid Peggotty. My mother took her hand, and said: ‘Don’t lave me, Peggotty. Stay with me. It wi not be for log, perhaps. What should I ever do withut you!’ ‘Me leave you, my preious!’ cried Peggotty. ‘Not for all th Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 158 world and hi wife. Why, what’s put that in your siy little head?’—For Peggotty had be used of old to talk to my mther sometimes like a chid. But my mothr made no answer, except to thank hr, and Peggotty went running on in her own fashion. ‘Me leave you? I think I se mysf. Peggotty go away from you? I should lke to catch her at it! No, no, n,’ said Peggotty, sakig her head, and foldig her arm; ‘not she, my dear. It is’t that there ai’t so Cats that would be wel eough plasd if s did, but they sha’n’t be plasd. They shall be aggravated. I’l stay with you till I am a cross cranky old wman. And w I’m to deaf, and too lam, and too bld, and too mumbly for want of teeth, to be of any use at al, eve to be found fault with, than I sal go to my Davy, and ask him to take me in.’ ‘And, Peggotty,’ says I, ‘I shall be glad to se you, and I’l make you as welcom as a que’ ‘Bl your dear heart!’ crid Peggotty. ‘I know you will!’ And se kied m beforehand, in grateful acknowldgeent of my hspitality. After that, she covered her head up with hr apro agai and had another laugh about Mr. Barki After that, se took the baby out of its little cradl, and nursed it. After that, s ared the dir tabl; after that, cam in with another cap on, and her work-box, and the yard-measure, and the bit of waxcandl, al just the sam as ever. We sat round the fire, and talked deghtfully. I told them what a hard master Mr. Creakle was, and thy pitied me very much. I told them what a fi few Sterforth was, and what a patron of mine, and Peggotty said she would walk a score of miles to se I took the little baby in my arm when it was awake, and Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 159 nursd it lovingly. Whe it was asleep again, I crept clos to my mothr’s side according to my old custo, broke now a long tim, and sat with my arm embracig her wait, and my little red ceek on her shoulder, and onc more felt her beautiful hair droping over me—like an angel’s wng as I usd to thk, I rellect—and was very happy indeed. While I sat thus, lookig at th fire, and seng picture in th red-ht coals, I almost believed that I had never bee away; that Mr. and Miss Murdsto were such picture, and wuld vanish when the fire got lw; and that there was nthing real in all that I remembered, save my mothr, Peggotty, and I. Peggotty darnd away at a stoking as long as she could see, and th sat with it drawn on her left hand like a glve, and her needl in her right, ready to take another stitc whenever there as a blaze. I cant conceive wh stokings thy can have be that Peggotty was always darning, or wre such an unfailing supply of stokings i want of darning can have come fro. Fro my earliest infany she sees to have be always emplyed in that class of needlewrk, and never by any chance in any othr. ‘I wonder,’ said Peggotty, who was sotim sezed with a fit of wondering on some most unxpected topic, ‘what’s beme of Davy’s great-aunt?’ ‘Lor, Peggotty!’ observed my mother, rousing herself fro a reverie, ‘what no you talk!’ ‘Well, but I realy do woder, ma’am,’ said Peggotty. ‘What can have put such a pers in your head?’ inquired my mther. ‘Is there nobody el in the world to co there?’ ‘I don’t know ho it is,’ said Peggotty, ‘unles it’s o account of beg stupid, but my head nver can pik and choose its peopl Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 160 They co and they go, and they do’t c and they do’t go, just as they like. I woder what’s beme of her?’ ‘How absurd you are, Peggotty!’ returned my mother. ‘On uld suppose you wanted a second visit fro her.’ ‘Lord forbid!’ cried Peggotty. ‘We then, do’t talk about suc unfortabl things, there’s a god soul,’ said my mothr. ‘Miss Betsy is shut up in her cottage by the sea, n doubt, and wi reai there. At al events, se is nt lkey ever to trouble us agai’ ‘No!’ musd Peggotty. ‘No, that ai’t lkey at al—I wonder, if se was to di, whether she’d leave Davy anythig?’ ‘Good gracus me, Peggotty,’ returned my mother, ‘what a nonsenical wan you are! w you kn that she tok offence at th poor dear boy’s ever being born at all.’ ‘I suppose she wouldn’t be inclined to forgive him now,’ hinted Peggotty. ‘Why should she be incld to forgive him now?’ said my mther, rather sharply. ‘No that he’s got a brothr, I mean,’ said Peggotty. My mother imdiately began to cry, and wodered how Peggotty dared to say suc a thing. ‘As if this poor littl innocent in its cradle had ever done any harm to you or anybody else, you jealous thing!’ said se. ‘You had muc better go and marry Mr. Barki, the carrier. Why do’t you?’ ‘I should make Mi Murdsto happy, if I was to,’ said Peggotty. ‘What a bad disposti you have, Peggotty!’ returnd my mothr. ‘You are as jealous of Miss Murdsto as it is possible for a ridiulus creature to be You want to kep the keys yoursef, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 161 and give out all th things, I suppose? I shouldn’t be surprised if you did. Whe you know that she only doe it out of kindness and the bet intenti! You know sh do, Peggotty—you know it w’ Peggotty muttered sthing to the effect of ‘Bother the bet itenti!’ and sothing el to the effect that there was a little to much of th best intentions going on ‘I kn what you mean, you cro thg,’ said my mother. ‘I understand you, Peggotty, perfectly. You know I do, and I wonder you do’t cour up lke fire. But one pot at a tim Mis Murdstone is the pot now, Peggotty, and you sa’n’t eape from it. Haven’t you heard her say, over and over again, that she thks I am too thoughtles and too—a—a—’ ‘Pretty,’ suggested Peggotty. ‘Well,’ returned my mother, half laughg, ‘and if she i so silly as to say so, can I be blamed for it?’ ‘No one says you can,’ said Peggotty. ‘No, I should hope nt, indeed!’ returned my mother. ‘Have’t you heard her say, over and over again, that o this account she ed to spare me a great deal of trouble, wh she thks I am am not suited for, and wh I really don’t kn myself that I suited for; and is’t s up early and late, and going to and fro continualy—and doe’t she do all sorts of things, and grope ito all sorts of places, coal-h and pantri and I don’t know wre, that can’t be very agreeable—and do you mean to inuate that there is not a sort of devotion in that?’ ‘I don’t inuate at al,’ said Peggotty. ‘You do, Peggotty,’ returned my mother. ‘You nver do anythng el, excpt your wrk. You are always insinuating. You Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 162 revel in it. And when you talk of Mr. Murdstone’s good intentions—’ ‘I never talked of ’em,’ said Peggotty. ‘No, Peggotty,’ returned my mother, ‘but you insinuated. That’s will what I told you just no That’s the worst of you. You insinuate I said, at th moment, that I understod you, and you s I did. Wh you talk of Mr. Murdstone’s good itentins, and pretend to slght them (for I do’t beeve you realy do, in your hart, Peggotty), you must be as we convinced as I am h god they are, and how they actuate him in everythig. If he seems to have be at all stern with a crtain person, Peggotty—you understand, and so I am sure doe Davy, that I am not alluding to anybody pret—it is solely beaus he is satisfied that it is for a certain pers’s benefit. He naturally loves a certain pers, o my account; and acts solely for a certain pers’s god. He is better able to judge of it than I am; for I very wll kn that I am a weak, light, girli creature, and that he is a firm, grave, srious man And he take,’ said my mother, with the tears whic were egendered i hr affectionate nature, stealing dow her face, ‘h take great pai with me; and I ought to be very thankful to hi, and very submssive to hi eve in my thughts; and w I am nt, Peggotty, I worry and conde mysf, and fee doubtful of my own heart, and don’t kn what to do.’ Peggotty sat with her ch on the foot of the stockig, lookig stly at the fire. ‘Thre, Peggotty,’ said my mother, changig her to, ‘do’t let us fall out with one another, for I couldn’t bear it. You are my true friend, I kn, if I have any i th wrld. Whe I call you a ridiulus creature, or a vexatious thing, or anything of that sort, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 163 Peggotty, I only mean that you are my true fried, and always have been, ever si the night when Mr. Copperfield first brought m home here, and you cam out to the gate to met me’ Peggotty was not slow to respod, and ratify the treaty of friedsp by giving me one of her bet hugs. I think I had so glips of the real character of this coversation at the tim; but I am sure, now, that th god creature originated it, and tok her part i it, mrely that my mother might cofort hersef with the littl contradictory summary in which she had indulged. Th design was efficacius; for I remember that my mothr sed mre at eas during the rest of the eveg, and that Peggotty obsrved her le When we had had our tea, and the ashes were thrown up, and the candl suffed, I read Peggotty a chapter out of the Crocodi Book, in rembrane of old tim—se took it out of her poket: I do’t know wether she had kept it there ever si—and then we talked about Sal House, whic brought me round again to Steerforth, who was my great subjet. We were very happy; and that evenig, as the last of its rac, and detied evermre to cose that volume of my life, wi never pass out of my memory. It was almost te o’clock before we hard th sound of ws. We all got up then; and my mother said hurriedly that, as it was so ate, and Mr. and Mis Murdstone approved of early hours for young peopl, perhaps I had better go to bed. I kid her, and wnt upstairs with my candle directly, before thy came in. It appeared to my chidish fancy, as I ascended to th bedro where I had be imprid, that they brought a cod blast of air ito the house wh blew away the old famar feelig like a feather. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 164 I felt uncfortable about going down to breakfast i the mrnig, as I had never set eye on Mr. Murdstone since the day w I coitted my memorable offence. Hover, as it must be do, I went down, after two or three fal starts half-way, and as many runs back on tiptoe to my own room, and prested mysf in th parlur. He was standig before the fire with his back to it, whe Mis Murdsto made th tea. He looked at me steadily as I etered, but made no sign of regnition whatever. I went up to him, after a moment of confusion, and said: ‘I beg your pardo, sir. I am very sorry for what I did, and I hope you will forgive me.’ ‘I am glad to hear you are sorry, David,’ he replied. The hand he gave m was the hand I had bitten I culd not restrain my eye fro resting for an instant on a red spot upo it; but it was not so red as I turnd, wh I met that sinister expression in his face. ‘How do you do, ma’am?’ I said to Mi Murdstoe. ‘Ah, dear me!’ sighd Mi Murdsto, giving me th tea-caddy soop intead of her fingers. ‘How lg are the holidays?’ ‘A month, ma’am.’ ‘Countig from when?’ ‘From today, ma’am.’ ‘Oh!’ said Miss Murdstoe. ‘Th here’s one day off.’ She kept a calendar of th hoidays in th way, and every morng cheked a day off in exactly th same manner. She did it gloomiy until sh cam to ten, but when sh got ito two figures e beam mre hopeful, and, as the ti advand, even jocular. It was on this very first day that I had the mifortune to throw her, though sh was not subjet to suc weakn i genral, ito Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 165 a state of vit conternation. I came into th ro wre she and my mther were sitting; and the baby (who was only a few ks od) beg o my mothr’s lap, I tok it very carefully in my arms. Suddely Miss Murdsto gave such a scream that I all but dropped it. ‘My dear Jane!’ cried my mothr. ‘Good heavens, Clara, do you see?’ exclaid Mi Murdstone. ‘See what, my dear Jan?’ said my mother; ‘whre?’ ‘He’s got it!’ cried Miss Murdsto ‘Th boy has got th baby!’ Sh was lp with horror; but stiffend hersef to make a dart at me, and take it out of my arms. Th, she turnd faint; and was very il that they were oblged to give her chrry brandy. I was y interdited by her, on her recvery, from touchig my brother any more on any pretenc whatever; and my poor mother, w, I could see, wished othrwise, meekly confirmed th terdit, by saying: ‘No doubt you are right, my dear Jan’ On another occas, when we three were together, this sam dear baby—it was truly dear to me, for our mother’s sake—was the innocent occasi of Miss Murdsto’s gog into a passion. My mther, who had been lookig at its eyes as it lay upon her lap, said: ‘Davy! come here!’ and lked at min I saw Mis Murdstone lay her beads down. ‘I declare,’ said my mother, getly, ‘thy are exactly alke. I suppose thy are mi I thk thy are th colour of mine. But they are woderfully alke’ ‘What are you talkig about, Clara?’ said Mis Murdsto ‘My dear Jan,’ faltered my mother, a little abashed by th harsh tone of this iquiry, ‘I find that the baby’s eye and Davy’s Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 166 are exactly alike’ ‘Clara!’ said Miss Murdsto, rising angrily, ‘you are a postive fo sometimes.’ ‘My dear Jane,’ remontrated my mothr. ‘A postive fo,’ said Miss Murdsto ‘Wh el could compare my brothr’s baby wth your boy? Thy are not at all alike Thy are exactly unlike. Thy are utterly dissimilar in all repets I hope they w ever reai so. I wi not sit here, and hear suc mparis made.’ With that she stalked out, and made th door bang after her. In short, I was not a favourite with Miss Murdsto In short, I was nt a favourite there with anybody, not even with mysf; for those who did lke m could not show it, and those who did nt, shod it so plainly that I had a sensitive consciusness of always appearing constrained, borish, and dull I felt that I made them as unfortabl as they made me If I cam ito the room were they were, and they were talkig together and my mother seemed cheerful, an anxious cloud would steal over her fac from the mot of my entran If Mr. Murdsto wre in hs best humour, I cheked him. If Miss Murdsto were in her worst, I intensified it. I had percpti ough to know that my mother was the victi always; that s as afraid to speak to me or to be kid to me, lt sh suld give them so offence by her maner of dog so, and reve a lecture afterwards; that she was not only ceasely afraid of her own offendig, but of my offendig, and uneasy watched their looks if I only moved. Therefore I reved to kep mysf as muc ut of thr way as I could; and many a wintry hour did I har th church clock strike, w I was sitting in my cherless bedro, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 167 wrapped in my little great-coat, poring over a bok. In the eveg, sotim, I went and sat with Peggotty i the kitchen There I was cofortabl, and nt afraid of beig mysf. But neithr of th resources was approved of in th parlur. Th tormting humour which was dominant thre stopped th both. I was stil held to be nary to my poor mother’s training, and, as on of her trials, could not be suffered to absent myself. ‘David,’ said Mr. Murdstone, one day after dinner when I was going to leave the room as usual; ‘I am srry to obsrve that you are of a sullen disposition.’ ‘As sulky as a bear!’ said Miss Murdsto I stood sti, and hung my head. ‘No, David,’ said Mr. Murdstoe, ‘a sul obdurate disposition is, of all tempers, th worst.’ ‘And th boy’s is, of all such disposition that ever I have se,’ remarked his sister, ‘th most confirmed and stubborn. I thk, my dear Clara, eve you must observe it?’ ‘I beg your pardo, my dear Jan,’ said my mother, ‘but are you quite sure—I am certain you’ll excuse me, my dear Jane—that you understand Davy?’ ‘I should be somewhat asamed of mysef, Cara,’ returned Mi Murdstone, ‘if I culd nt understand the boy, or any boy. I do’t profess to be profound; but I do lay claim to com sense’ ‘No doubt, my dear Jane,’ returnd my mothr, ‘your understandig is very vigorous—’ ‘Oh dear, no! Pray don’t say that, Clara,’ interpod Miss Murdstone, angrily. ‘But I am sure it is,’ resumed my mother; ‘and everybody kn it is. I profit so much by it myself, i many ways—at least I ought Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 168 to—that no on can be more convinced of it than myself; and therefore I speak with great diffidee, my dear Jan, I asure you.’ ‘We’ll say I do’t understand the boy, Clara,’ returned Mis Murdstone, arrangig the little fetters on her wrists ‘We’ll agree, if you please, that I don’t understand him at all. He i much to deep for me. But perhaps my brothr’s penetration may enable hm to have some insight into his character. And I beve my brother was speakig on the subject when we—not very decently—interrupted him.’ ‘I think, Clara,’ said Mr. Murdsto, in a low grave voice, ‘that thre may be better and more dispassiate judge of such a question than you.’ ‘Edward,’ replied my mothr, timidly, ‘you are a far better judge of all questions than I preted to be Both you and Jan are I oy said—’ ‘You only said something wak and isiderate,’ h replied. ‘Try not to do it again, my dear Clara, and keep a watc upo yoursf.’ My mothr’s lips moved, as if she answered ‘Ye, my dear Edward,’ but she said nothing aloud. ‘I was sorry, David, I remarked,’ said Mr. Murdsto, turnig his head and his eye stiffly toards me, ‘to observe that you are of a sul disposti. This is not a character that I can suffer to develop itself beath my eye withut an effort at improvet. You must endeavour, sir, to change it. We must edeavour to change it for you.’ ‘I beg your pardo, sir,’ I faltered. ‘I have never meant to be sullen s I came back.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 169 ‘Don’t take refuge in a li, sir!’ he returned so fiercy, that I saw my mther ivoluntariy put out her tremblg hand as if to iterpose betwee us. ‘You have withdraw yoursef in your sulnnes to your own room. You have kept your own room when you ought to have been here. You know now, onc for al, that I require you to be here, and nt there Further, that I require you to bring obediene here. You kn me, David. I wi have it don.’ Miss Murdsto gave a hoars chuckl ‘I wi have a repetful, propt, and ready bearig toards ysf,’ he ctiued, ‘and towards Jan Murdsto, and towards your mothr. I will not have this ro shunned as if it wre infected, at th pleasure of a chid. Sit dow’ He ordered me like a dog, and I obeyed like a dog. ‘On thg more,’ he said. ‘I observe that you have an attachment to low and common company. You are not to associate with srvants. The kitchen will nt improve you, in the many respects in which you need improvet. Of th wman w abets you, I say nothg—se you, Clara,’ addresg my mther in a lowr voice, ‘from od assocations and long-established fancies, have a weakness respeting her which is not yet overco’ ‘A most unaccountabl delusion it is!’ cried Miss Murdsto ‘I only say,’ he resumed, addressing me, ‘that I disapprove of your preferring such company as Mistress Peggotty, and that it is to be abandoned. Now, David, you understand m, and you know what wil be the consequen if you fai to obey me to the letter.’ I kn well—better perhaps than he thought, as far as my poor mther was cornd—and I obeyed him to the letter. I retreated to my own room no more; I took refuge with Peggotty no more; Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 170 but sat weariy i the parlour day after day, lookig forward to nght, and bedti What irks cotrait I underwent, sitting in the sam attitude hours upon hours, afraid to move an arm or a leg lt Mis Murdsto should complain (as she did on th least pretece) of my restlessne, and afraid to move an eye lest she should lght o some look of dislike or scrutiy that would find ne caus for cplait in mi! What intolerable dulne to sit liteg to the tickig of the clock; and watchig Mis Murdstone’s lttle shy steel beads as she strung them; and woderig whether she would ever be marrid, and if so, to what sort of unappy man; and counting th division i th moulding of th chimney-piece; and wanderig away, with my eye, to the ceg, among the curls and corkscres in th paper on th wall! What walks I tok alon, dow muddy lanes, in th bad winter weather, carrying that parlour, and Mr. and Mis Murdstone in it, everywhere: a motrous lad that I was oblged to bear, a daymare that thre was no posbility of breaking i, a wight that brooded on my wits, and blunted them! What mals I had in since and embarrassmt, always feg that thre were a knife and fork to many, and that mine; an appetite to many, and that mine; a plate and chair to many, and th mine; a somebody to many, and that I! What evenigs, when the candl cam, and I was expeted to ploy myself, but, not daring to read an etertaining book, pored over so hard-headed, harder-hearted treati o arithmeti; when the tabl of weights and measures st themve to tune, as ‘Rule Britana’, or ‘Away with Meany’; wen they wouldn’t stand sti to be larnt, but would go threadig my Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 171 grandmther’s needl through my unfortunate head, i at one ear and out at th othr! What yaws and dozes I lapsed ito, in spite f all my care; what starts I came out of concealed sps wth; what anrs I nver got, to little obsrvati that I rarely made; wat a blank spac I seemed, wh everybody overlooked, and yet was i everybody’s way; what a heavy relf it was to hear Mis Murdstone hai the first stroke of nin at night, and order me to bed! Thus the holidays lagged away, until the mornig cam when Miss Murdsto said: ‘Here’s th last day off!’ and gave me th closg cup of tea of th vacati I was nt sorry to go. I had lapsd ito a stupid state; but I was recvering a little and lookig forward to Sterforth, albet Mr. Creakle lood behd hm. Again Mr. Barkis appeared at th gate, and again Miss Murdsto in her warning voice, said: ‘Clara!’ w my mothr bent over me, to bid me fare I kid her, and my baby brother, and was very sorry then; but nt srry to go away, for the gulf betwee us was there, and the partig was there, every day. And it i nt s muc the embrac gave m, that lives i my mnd, though it was as fervent as uld be, as what followed the embrace. I was in th carrir’s cart wh I hard hr caling to me. I looked out, and she stood at the garden-gate alone, holdig her baby up in her arm for me to se It was cd sti wathr; and nt a hair of her head, nr a fold of her dres, was stirred, as sh ooked itently at me, holdig up her chd. So I lot her. So I saw her afterwards, in my seep at school—a st pre nar my bed—lookig at me with the sam intent fac—holdig up her baby in her arm Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield Charles Dicke 172 ElBook Classic David Copperfield 173 Chapter 9 I HAVE A MEMORABLE BIRTHDAY I pas over al that happed at school, until the anniversary of my birthday came round in Marc Except that Sterforth as more to be admired than ever, I remember nothing. He was going away at the end of the half-year, if nt sooner, and was more spirited and independet than before in my eye, and therefore more engaging than before; but beyond this I rember nthing. The great rembranc by whic that tim is marked i my mind, se to have swallowd up all lesser rellections, and to exist ale. It is even difficult for me to beeve that there was a gap of full tw month betw my return to Salem Hous and th arrival of that birthday. I can only understand that the fact was so, beause I know it must have be so; othrwise I should fe convinced that there was no interval, and that the one occas trod upon the other’s heels How wel I rect the kid of day it was! I sm the fog that hung about the place; I see the hoar frost, ghostly, through it; I feel my rimy hair fall clammy on my chek; I look along th dim perspetive of the shoolroom, with a sputtering candl here and there to light up the foggy mornig, and the breath of the boys wreathing and smokig in the raw cold as they blow upon their fingers, and tap their feet upon the floor. It was after breakfast, and we had be sumoned in from the playground, when Mr. Sharp entered and said: Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 174 ‘David Copperfied is to go into the parlour.’ I expeted a hamper from Peggotty, and brightened at th order. So of the boys about m put i their caim not to be forgotten i the ditributio of the good things, as I got out of my sat with great alacrity. ‘Don’t hurry, David,’ said Mr. Sharp. ‘Thre’s time eugh, my boy, do’t hurry.’ I mght have be surprisd by the feeg tone in whic he spoke, if I had given it a thought; but I gave it no until afterwards I hurried away to the parlour; and there I found Mr. Creakle, sitting at his breakfast with th cane and a newpaper before hi, and Mrs. Creakl with an oped letter in her hand. But no hamper. ‘David Copperfield,’ said Mrs. Creakle, leadig me to a sfa, and sitting dow bede me. ‘I want to speak to you very particularly. I have sothing to tel you, my chd.’ Mr. Creakle, at whom of course I looked, shook hi head without lookig at me, and stopped up a sgh with a very large pi of buttered toast. ‘You are too young to know how the world changes every day,’ said Mrs. Creakle, ‘and h th people in it pass away. But we all ave to learn it, David; so of us wh we are young, s of us en we are old, some of us at al times of our lives.’ I looked at her earnetly. ‘When you cam away from home at the ed of the vacation,’ said Mrs. Creakle, after a pause, ‘were they al w?’ After another pause, ‘Was your mama well?’ I trebld withut distictly kning why, and still looked at her earnetly, makig n attempt to anr. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 175 ‘Beause,’ said she, ‘I grieve to tell you that I hear this morng your mama is very ill.’ A mt ro between Mrs. Creakle and me, and her figure d to mve in it for an itant. Then I felt the burng tears run dow my face, and it was steady again. ‘She is very dangerously ill,’ she added. I knew all now ‘She is dead.’ There was n nd to tel m so I had already broke out into a desolate cry, and felt an orphan in th wide world. She was very kind to me. She kept me thre all day, and left me alon sometimes; and I cried, and wore myself to slp, and awoke and cried again. Whe I could cry no more, I began to thk; and th th oppression on my breast was heaviest, and my grief a dull pain that thre was no ease for. d yet my thoughts were idl; not intent on the calamty that weighed upon my heart, but idly lotering nar it. I thought of our house shut up and hushed. I thought of the little baby, who, Mrs. reakle said, had bee pining away for some ti, and wh, thy beved, would di too. I thought of my father’s grave in the churchyard, by our house, and of my mothr lying thre beath the tree I knew so we. I stood upon a cair wen I was lft alone, and looked into the glas to see how red my eyes wre, and how sorroful my face. I considered, after some hours were go, if my tears wre realy hard to fl no, as thy sed to be, what, in nnexi with my loss, it would affect me most to think of w I dre nar home—for I was going home to the funeral I am sbl of having felt that a dignity attacd to m amg the rest of th boys, and that I was important in my affliction. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 176 If ever child were strike with sincere grief, I was But I remember that this importance was a kind of satisfacti to me, when I walked i the playground that afternoon whil the boys were in school. Wh I saw them glang at me out of the wndows, as thy went up to thr classes, I felt distinguished, and looked mre meanholy, and walked sower. Wh school was over, and they cam out and spoke to me, I felt it rather good i ysf nt to be proud to any of them, and to take exactly the same notice of th all, as before I was to go home next nght; not by the mai, but by the heavy night-coach, which was called th Farmr, and was principally used by country-people travellg short itermediate ditan upon the road. We had no story-tellg that evenig, and Traddl insisted on lending me his pillow I don’t kn wat god h thught it wuld do me, for I had on of my on: but it was all h ad to lend, poor fellow, except a shet of letter-paper full of skeltos; and that h gave me at partig, as a soothr of my sorro and a contributi to my peace of mind. I lft Sal House upo the morrow afternoon. I lttle thought then that I left it, never to return. We traved very slowly al ght, and did nt get into Yarmouth before n or ten o’cock i the mornig. I looked out for Mr. Barki, but he was not there; and itead of him a fat, short-winded, mrry-lookig, lttle old man in black, with rusty little bunhes of ribbo at the knees of his bres, black stokings, and a broad-brimmed hat, came puffing up to the coach window, and said: ‘Master Copperfield?’ ‘Yes, sir.’ ‘Will you come with me, young sir, if you please,’ h said, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 177 openig the door, ‘and I sal have the pleasure of takig you home.’ I put my hand in his, wondering who he was, and we walked away to a shop i a narro stret, on which was written OMER, DRAPER, TAILOR, HABERDASHER, FUNERAL FURNISHER, &c It was a close and stiflg little shop; full of al sorts of cothing, made and unade, including on wido full of beaver-hats and bonnets We went into a little back-parlur bend the shop, where we found three young wome at work on a quantity of black materials, whic were heaped upon the tabl, and lttle bits and cuttings of whic were littered all over the floor. There was a good fire in th ro, and a breathles sml of warm black crape—I did nt know what the sml was then, but I know no The three young wome, who appeared to be very idustrious and comfortable, raised thr heads to look at me, and th wnt o with thr work. Stitch, stitch, stitch. At th same time thre am from a workshop across a lttle yard outside the window, a regular sound of hamrig that kept a kid of tune: Rat—tat-tat, Rat—tat-tat, Rat—tat-tat, without any variati ‘We,’ said my coductor to one of the three young wome ‘How do you get on, Miie?’ ‘We shal be ready by th trying-on time,’ she replied gaily, wthut loking up. ‘Don’t you be afraid, father.’ Mr. Omer took off hi broad-brid hat, and sat down and panted. He was so fat that he was obliged to pant s tim before he could say: ‘That’s right.’ ‘Fathr!’ said Miie, playfuly. ‘What a porpoise you do gro!’ ‘Well, I don’t kn h it is, my dear,’ he replied, considerig Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 178 about it. ‘I am rather so.’ ‘You are such a comfortable man, you see,’ said Mi ‘You take things so easy.’ ‘No use takig ’em othrwise, my dear,’ said Mr. Omer. ‘No, ideed,’ returned his daughter. ‘We are al pretty gay here, thank Heave! Ain’t we, fathr?’ ‘I hpe so, my dear,’ said Mr. Omer. ‘As I have got my breath w, I think I’l masure this young scholar. Would you walk into th shop, Master Copperfield?’ I preceded Mr. Omer, in coplan with his request; and after shoing me a ro of cloth which he said was extra super, and to good mournig for anything short of parents, he took my various dimensions, and put th dow i a book. Whi he was rerdig them he calld my attenti to his stock in trade, and to crtai fashion wich h said had ‘just come up’, and to certain othr fashion which he said had ‘just go out’. ‘And by that srt of thing we very often lo a little mit of mony,’ said Mr. Omer. ‘But fashion are lke human begs. They c in, nbody knows when, why, or how; and they go out, nbody knows when, why, or how. Everything is lke life, i my opinion, if you look at it in that poit of vi.’ I was to sorroful to discus th queti, wich wuld possibly have be beyod me under any crcumstances; and Mr. Omr took me back into the parlour, breathing with s diffiulty on the way. He th called dow a littl break-neck range of steps behd a door: ‘Bring up that tea and bread-and-butter!’ whic, after so tim, during whic I sat lookig about me and thinkig, and lteg to the stitcg i the room and the tune that was beg Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 179 hamred across the yard, appeared on a tray, and turned out to be for me. ‘I have be acquaited with you,’ said Mr. Omer, after watcng me for some minutes, during wich I had not made muc impreon on the breakfast, for the black things detroyed my appetite, ‘I have be acquaited with you a log tim, my young frid.’ ‘Have you, sir?’ ‘Al your life,’ said Mr. Omer. ‘I may say before it. I knew your father before you. He was five foot ni and a half, and he lays i five-and-twen-ty foot of ground.’ ‘Rat—tat-tat, Rat—tat-tat, Rat—tat-tat,’ across the yard. ‘He lays i five and twen-ty foot of ground, if he lays i a fraction,’ said Mr. Omer, pleasantly. ‘It was either hi request or hr direction, I forget which.’ ‘Do you know how my little brother is, sir?’ I inquired. Mr. Omer shook his head. ‘Rat—tat-tat, Rat—tat-tat, Rat—tat-tat.’ ‘He is in his mother’s arms,’ said he ‘Oh, poor little fellow! Is he dead?’ ‘Don’t mind it more than you can hep,’ said Mr. Omer. ‘Ye The baby’s dead.’ My wunds broke out afresh at this inteigece. I left th scarcy-tasted breakfast, and wnt and rested my head on another table, in a corner of the little room, whic Minni hastiy cared, let I should spot the mourning that was lyig there with my tears Sh was a pretty, good-natured girl, and put my hair away fro my eye with a soft, kind touc; but she was very cherful at having nearly fiished her work and being in god Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 180 time, and was so different fro me! Pretly the tune left off, and a good-lookig young fellow cam across the yard into the room. He had a hamr i hi hand, and his mouth was ful of littl nails, which he was obliged to take out before he could speak. ‘Well, Joram!’ said Mr. Omer. ‘How do you get on?’ ‘Al right,’ said Joram ‘Don, sir.’ Min cured a lttle, and the other two girls smd at one another. ‘What! you were at it by candle-light last night, w I was at the club, then? Were you?’ said Mr. Omer, suttig up one eye. ‘Ye,’ said Joram. ‘As you said we could make a littl trip of it, and go over togethr, if it was don, Mi and me—and you.’ ‘Oh! I thought you were going to leave me out altogether,’ said Mr. Omer, laughng till he coughd. ‘—A you was so good as to say that,’ resumd the young man, ‘why I turned to with a wil, you s Wi you give m your opi of it?’ ‘I wi,’ said Mr. Omer, rising. ‘My dear’; and he stopped and turned to me: ‘would you like to see your—’ ‘No, father,’ Mi interpod. ‘I thought it might be agreeable, my dear,’ said Mr. Omer. ‘But perhaps you’re right.’ I can’t say ho I kn it was my dear, dear mothr’s coffin that thy went to look at. I had never heard o making; I had never s o that I know of.—but it cam ito my mid what the no was, whil it was going on; and when the young man entered, I am sure I knew what he had been dog. The work beg nw find, the two girls, whose nam I had Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 181 not heard, brusd th shreds and threads fro thr dres, and went into the shop to put that to rights, and wait for customrs Minnie stayed bend to fod up what thy had made, and pack it in tw baskets. This she did upo her kn, humming a lively lttle tune the whil Joram, who I had n doubt was her lover, came in and sto a kiss fro her while she was busy (h didn’t appear to md m, at al), and said her father was gone for the chaise, and h must make haste and get himself ready. Th he nt out again; and th she put hr thimbl and scissors in hr pocket, and stuck a nedle threaded with black thread neatly in the bo of her gown, and put on her outer clothing smartly, at a lttle glas bed the door, in whic I saw the refletio of her pleased face. this I obsrved, stting at the tabl i the corner with my had leaning o my hand, and my thughts running on very different things. The chai soon cam round to the front of the shop, and th baskets being put in first, I was put in next, and th thre followd. I remember it as a kind of half chaise-cart, half pianoforte-van, paited of a sobre cour, and draw by a black horse with a log tai. There was plenty of ro for us al I do not thk I have ever expericed so strange a feg i y life (I am wisr now, perhaps) as that of beg with them, reberig how they had be employed, and seg them ejoy the ride I was nt angry with them; I was more afraid of th, as if I were cast away amg creatures with w I had no cunty of nature. They were very chrful. The old man sat in front to drive, and the two young peopl sat bed hi, and wenever he spoke to them leand forward, the one on one side of hi cubby fac and the other on the other, and made a great deal Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 182 of him They would have talked to m too, but I held back, and moped in my cornr; scared by thr love-making and hlarity, thugh it was far fro boisterous, and almost wdering that no judgement cam upon them for their hardn of heart. So, wh thy stopped to bait th horse, and ate and drank and ejoyed themve, I could touch nothing that they touched, but kept my fast unbroken. So, when we reached home, I dropped out of the chai bend, as quickly as pobl, that I might not be in their copany before those so windows, lookig bldly on m like closed eyes once bright. Ad oh, how little need I had had to think what would move me to tears when I cam back—sg the window of my mother’s room, and nxt it that whic, in the better tim, was m! I was i Peggotty’s arm before I got to the door, and sh took m into the house Her grief burst out when sh first saw m; but she controlled it soo, and spoke in whispers, and walked softly, as if th dead could be disturbed. She had not bee in bed, I found, for a long time. She sat up at night still, and watcd. As long as r poor dear pretty was above th ground, she said, she would nver dert her. Mr. Murdstone took no heed of m when I went into the parlour were he was, but sat by the firede, weepig sently, and ponderig in his elbo-chair. Miss Murdsto, w was busy at hr writing-desk, which was covered with letters and papers, gave me her cold finger-nails, and asked me, in an iro wisper, if I had bee measured for my mournng. I said: ‘Yes.’ ‘And your shirts,’ said Miss Murdsto; ‘have you brought ’em home?’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 183 ‘Yes, ma’am. I have brought hoe al my clths.’ This was all th consolation that her firmss administered to me. I do not doubt that she had a choice pleasure in exhbiting what se called her sef-comand, and her firmnes, and her strength of mind, and her common sense, and th wh diabolical catalogue of her unamiabl qualities, on such an occasi. She was particularly proud of her turn for busss; and she shod it now in reducng everythng to pen and ink, and beig moved by nthing. All the rest of that day, and from mornig to nght afterwards, she sat at that desk, scratchig compodly with a hard pen, speaking in th same imperturbabl whisper to verybody; never relaxing a muscle of her face, or softeing a to of her voic, or appearig with an atom of her dre astray. Her brother took a book sotim, but nver read it that I saw He would ope it and lk at it as if he were readig, but would remai for a whole hour without turnig the leaf, and then put it down and walk to and fro in the room. I used to sit with folded hands watchig hi, and cunting his footsteps, hour after hour. He very sdom spoke to her, and nver to me He sed to be the only restles thing, excpt the clocks, in the whole tionl house In thes days before the funeral, I saw but lttle of Peggotty, except that, in passing up or dow stairs, I alays found hr c to the room where my mother and her baby lay, and except that she came to me every night, and sat by my bed’s had wile I wnt to slp. A day or two before the burial—I think it was a day or two before, but I am conscious of confusion in my mind about that havy time, wth nothing to mark its progress—she tok me into the room. I only rect that underneath so white covering on Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 184 the bed, wth a beautiful clean and freshnes al around it, there seemed to me to lie embodied the so sti that was the house; and that when she would have turned the cver gently back, I crid: ‘Oh n! oh no!’ and held her hand. If th funeral had be yesterday, I could not rellect it better. The very air of the bet parlour, when I went in at the door, the bright condition of th fire, th shiing of th wi in th deanters, the patterns of the glas and plate, the faint swt sell of cake, the odour of Mis Murdstone’s dres, and our black cloths. Mr. Chillip is in th ro, and comes to speak to me. ‘And ho is Master David?’ he says, kidly. I cant tell him very well I give him my hand, which he holds in hi ‘Dear me!’ says Mr. Chillp, mkly smiling, with sothg shining in his eye ‘Our littl friends gro up around us. Thy grow out of our knowledge, ma’am?’ This is to Mis Murdstone, who make n reply. ‘Thre is a great improvement here, ma’am?’ says Mr. Chillp. Miss Murdsto merely answers with a fron and a formal bed: Mr. Chillip, discomfited, go into a cornr, keepig me wth m, and opes his mouth no more I remark this, beause I remark everything that happe, not beause I care about mysf, or have do se I cam home. Ad now th bel begins to sound, and Mr. Omer and anthr come to ake us ready. As Peggotty was wont to tel m, log ago, the follwers of my father to the sam grave were made ready in the sam room. There are Mr. Murdstone, our neghbour Mr. Grayper, Mr. Clip, and I. Wh we go out to the door, the Bearers and their Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 185 lad are in the garden; and they move before us do the path, and past the el, and through the gate, and ito the curchyard, were I have so ofte heard the birds sig on a sumer morng. We stand around the grave. The day seems differet to me from very other day, and the light not of the sam colour—of a sadder colour. Now thre is a solemn hush, which we have brought fro with what is resting in th mould; and while we stand bareheaded, I hear the vo of the clergyman, soundig rete in th ope air, and yet distinct and plain, saying: ‘I am th Resurrection and th Life, saith th Lord!’ Th I hear sobs; and, standing apart among th lookers-o, I se that god and faithful rvant, whom of al the peopl upo earth I lve the bet, and unto wh my childish heart is certain that th Lord wi o day say: ‘Well done’ There are many fac that I know, amg the little crowd; fac that I knew in churc, when m was alays wderig there; fac that first saw my mther, when sh cam to the vilage in her youthful bloom. I do nt mnd them—I mid nothing but my grif—and yet I see and know them al; and even i th background, far away, see Minni lookig on, and her eye glang on her sweetheart, who is near m It is over, and th earth is filled in, and we turn to come away. Before us stands our house, so pretty and unchanged, so linked in y md with the young idea of what is gone, that al my sorrow has be nthing to the sorrow it call forth. But they take me on; and Mr. Chillip talks to me; and wh we get h, puts some water to my lips; and wh I ask hi leave to go up to my ro, dismisse me with th gentleness of a woman. A th, I say, is yeterday’s event. Events of later date have Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 186 floated from m to the shore where al forgotten things wil reappear, but this stands like a high rock in th ocan. I kn that Peggotty would co to me in my room. The Sabbath stillness of th time (th day was so like Sunday! I have forgotten that) was suited to us both. Sh sat down by my sde upo my littl bed; and hoding my hand, and sometimes putting it to her lips, and sometimes smoothng it wth hrs, as she might have coforted my little brother, told me, in her way, al that s ad to tell concerning what had happened. ‘Sh was never wll,’ said Peggotty, ‘for a long ti She was uncrtai in her mid, and nt happy. Wh her baby was born, I thought at first sh would get better, but s was mre deate, and sunk a lttle every day. Sh used to like to sit alone before her baby came, and th she cried; but afterwards she usd to sng to t—so sft, that I onc thought, when I heard her, it was lke a voice up in th air, that was rising away. ‘I think s got to be more timd, and mre frightend-like, of late; and that a hard word was like a blow to hr. But she was always the sam to me Sh never canged to her fooli Peggotty, didn’t my sweet girl.’ Here Peggotty stopped, and sftly beat upon my hand a little whil ‘The last tim that I saw her like her own old sef, was the night w you came ho, my dear. Th day you wnt away, she said to m, “I never shal se my pretty darlig agai Sothing tel so, that tell the truth, I know.” ‘She tried to hold up after that; and many a tim, when they told her sh was thoughtle and light-hearted, made beve to be Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 187 s; but it was al a bygone then Sh nver told her husband what se had told me—she was afraid of saying it to anybody e—ti one night, a little more than a week before it happed, when sh said to him: “My dear, I thk I am dying.” ‘“It’s off my mind now, Peggotty,” sh told me, when I laid her in her bed that night. “He wi believe it more and more, poor fellow, every day for a fe days to come; and th it wi be past. I am very tired. If this is slp, sit by me while I sleep: don’t leave me. God blss both my chidre! God protet and keep my fathrless boy!” ‘I never left her afterwards,’ said Peggotty. ‘She often talked to them two downstairs—for sh lved them; sh culdn’t bear not to lve anyone who was about her—but when they went away from hr bed-side, she always turnd to me, as if thre was rest wre Peggotty was, and nver fe asp in any other way. ‘On the last nght, in the eveg, sh kid m, and said: “If my baby should di too, Peggotty, plas let them lay him in my arm, and bury us together.” (It was do; for the poor lamb lived but a day beyond her.) “Let my dearet boy go with us to our resting-plac,” she said, “and te him that his mothr, wh she ay here, blesd him not once, but a thousand tim”’ Anothr silen fod this, and anthr gentle beating o my hand. ‘It was pretty far in the nght,’ said Peggotty, ‘when sh asked me for some drink; and wh she had taken it, gave me such a patiet s, the dear!—s beautiful! ‘Daybreak had co, and the sun was rig, when she said to me, ho kind and considerate Mr. Copperfield had always bee to her, and how he had borne with her, and told her, when s Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 188 doubted hersef, that a lving heart was better and stronger than isdom, and that he was a happy man in hrs “Peggotty, my dear,” she said then, “put me narer to you,” for she was very wak. “Lay your god arm undernath my neck,” she said, “and turn me to you, for your fac is going far off, and I want it to be ar.” I put it as she asked; and oh Davy! th time had come wh y first parting words to you were true—when sh was glad to lay her poor head on her stupid cross old Peggotty’s arm—and s died like a child that had go to sleep!’ Thus ended Peggotty’s narration. From the mot of my knowing of the death of my mother, the idea of her as se had been of late had vand from me I remebered her, from that instant, oly as th young mothr of my earliest impresions, wh had be used to wind her bright curls round and round her finger, and to dance with me at twilght in the parlour. What Peggotty had told me now, was s far from briging me back to the later period, that it rooted the earlr image in my mid. It may be curius, but it is true. In her death she winged her way back to her calm untroubled youth, and cancelled al the rest. The mother who lay in the grave, was the mther of my ifancy; th littl creature in her arms, was myself, as I had once be, hushed for ever on her bo Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 189 Chapter 10 I BECOME NEGLECTED, AND AM PROVIDED FOR T he first act of bus Mis Murdstone performed when the day of the soty was over, and light was freely admtted ito the house, was to give Peggotty a moth’s arning. Much as Peggotty would have disliked such a service, I beeve se would have retaied it, for my sake, in preferenc to th best upo earth She told me w must part, and told me wy; and we condoled with one another, in al sincerity. A to me or my future, not a word was said, or a step take Happy thy would have be, I dare say, if thy could have dismissed me at a month’s warng to I mustered courage once, to ask Mis Murdstone when I was going back to shool; and sh anered dryly, she beeved I was not gog back at al I was tod nthing more. I was very anxious to know what was going to be do with m, and so was Peggotty; but nether sh nor I culd pick up any information on th subjet. Thre was on change in my condition, which, wh it reved m of a great deal of pret uneas, mght have made me, if I had be capabl of considering it closy, yet more unmfortabl about the future. It was this The constrait that had be put upo me, was quite abandoned. I was so far fro beg required to keep my dull post in th parlur, that on several occasions, when I took my seat there, Mis Murdstone frowned to m to go away. I was s far from beg warned off from Peggotty’s soty, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 190 that, provided I was not in Mr. Murdsto’s, I was never sought out or inquired for. At first I was in daily dread of hs taking my educati i hand agai, or of Mis Murdstone’s devoting herself to it; but I soon began to think that suc fears were groundl, and that al I had to anticpate was neglt. I do nt cve that this diovery gave me muc pai then I was still giddy with th shok of my mothr’s death, and i a kind of stunnd state as to all tributary things. I can rect, ided, to have speculated, at odd times, on th posbility of my not beg taught any more, or cared for any mre; and growing up to be a shabby, moody man, lounging an idle lfe away, about th viage; as well as on the feasibity of my getting rid of this piture by gog away sere, lke the hero in a story, to seek my fortune: but thes were trant vis, daydreams I sat lookig at sotim, as if they were faitly paited or written on the wall f my ro, and which, as thy melted away, left th wall blank again. ‘Peggotty,’ I said i a thughtful whisper, on eveg, wh I was warmig my hands at the kitchen fire, ‘Mr. Murdstone like le than he used to. He nver lked m muc, Peggotty; but he wuld rather not even see m n, if he can help it.’ ‘Perhaps it’s his sorro,’ said Peggotty, stroking my hair. ‘I am sure, Peggotty, I am sorry to If I beved it was hi sorro, I should not thk of it at all. But it’s not that; oh, no, it’s t that.’ ‘How do you know it’s nt that?’ said Peggotty, after a si ‘Oh, his sorro is anthr and quite a different thing. He i sorry at this moment, sitting by th fireside with Mi Murdsto; but if I was to go in, Peggotty, he would be sothing bede’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 191 ‘What would he be?’ said Peggotty. ‘Angry,’ I answered, with an involuntary imitation of his dark frown. ‘If he was only sorry, he wouldn’t look at m as he do I am only sorry, and it makes me fe kinder.’ Peggotty said nthing for a lttle whil; and I warmed my hands, as silent as she ‘Davy,’ she said at length ‘Ye, Peggotty?’ ‘I have tried, my dear, all ways I could thk of—al th ways there are, and all the ways there ai’t, in short—to get a suitabl rvice here, in Blundersto; but thre’s no such a thg, my love’ ‘And what do you mean to do, Peggotty,’ says I, wistfuly. ‘Do you mean to go and seek your fortune?’ ‘I expet I shal be forced to go to Yarmouth,’ repld Peggotty, ‘and live there’ ‘You might have gone farther off,’ I said, brighteng a little, ‘and bee as bad as lost. I shall se you sometimes, my dear od Peggotty, there You won’t be quite at the other ed of the world, wll you?’ ‘Contrary ways, plas God!’ crid Peggotty, with great animation. ‘As long as you are here, my pet, I shall come over every week of my life to see you. One day, every week of my life!’ I felt a great weight taken off my mid by this proise: but eve this was nt all, for Peggotty went on to say: ‘I’m a-going, Davy, you se, to my brother’s, first, for another fortnight’s visit—just till I have had time to look about me, and get to be somethg like myself again. Now, I have bee thking that perhaps, as they don’t want you here at pret, you might be let Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 192 to go along with me’ If anything, short of beg in a different relatio to every one about m, Peggotty excpted, could have given me a se of pleasure at that time, it would have be this projet of all othrs Th idea of being again surrounded by th hot faces, shining we o m; of reg the peacefuln of the sweet Sunday mrnig, when the be were ringig, the stone droppig in the water, and th shadowy ships breaking through th mist; of roamg up and down with little Em’ly, telg her my troubl, and fidig charm against th in th shels and pebbles o th beach; made a calm in my heart. It was ruffld next moment, to be sure, by a doubt of Mis Murdstone’s giving her cot; but eve that was set at rest soon, for sh cam out to take an eveg grope in th store-clost while we were yet in conversati, and Peggotty, wth a boldne that amazed me, broached th topic on the spot. ‘Th boy wi be idl thre,’ said Miss Murdsto, loking into a pickle-jar, ‘and idleness is th rot of all evil. But, to be sure, he would be idl here—or anywhere, in my opi’ Peggotty had an angry anr ready, I could se; but sh swallowd it for my sake, and reaid silent. ‘Humph!’ said Miss Murdsto, sti keeping her eye on th pickles; ‘it is of more importance than anythng el—it is of paramount importance—that my brothr should not be disturbed or made unmfortable. I suppo I had better say yes.’ I thanked her, withut making any demontration of joy, lest it should induc her to withdraw her ast. Nor culd I help thinking this a prudet course, since she looked at me out of th pickle-jar, with as great an access of sourne as if hr black eye Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 193 had absorbed its contets. Hover, th permission was given, and was nver retracted; for when the mth was out, Peggotty and I were ready to depart. Mr. Barkis came into th house for Peggotty’s boxes. I had nver known hi to pas the garde-gate before, but on this occason he cam into the house Ad he gave m a look as he shouldered the largest box and went out, whic I thought had meaning in it, if meaning could ever be said to fid its way into Mr. Barkis’s viage Peggotty was naturally in low spirits at leaving wat had bee r h so many years, and whre th tw strong attachments of hr life—for my mothr and myself—had bee formd. She had be walkig i the churchyard, too, very early; and s got into the cart, and sat in it with her handkerchief at her eyes. So long as she remained in this condition, Mr. Barkis gave no sign of life whatever. He sat in his usual plac and attitude lke a great stuffed figure. But when sh began to look about her, and to speak to me, he nodded h had and grind several times I have t the least ntion at whom, or what he meant by it. ‘It’s a beautiful day, Mr. Barki!’ I said, as an act of poltess. ‘It ain’t bad,’ said Mr. Barkis, wh geraly qualified hi spee, and rarely committed himself. ‘Peggotty i quite cfortabl nw, Mr. Barki,’ I remarked, for his satisfacti ‘Is she, thugh?’ said Mr. Barki fter refleting about it, with a sagacus air, Mr. Barki eyed hr, and said: ‘Are you pretty cofortabl?’ Peggotty laughed, and anered in the affirmative. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 194 ‘But realy and truly, you know. Are you?’ growled Mr. Barki, sdig narer to her on the seat, and nudgig her with his elbo ‘Are you? Realy and truly pretty comfortable? Are you? Eh?’ At each of th inquiries Mr. Barki shuffld nearer to hr, and gave her anothr nudge; so that at last w wre all croded together in the left-hand corner of the cart, and I was so squeezed that I could hardly bear it. Peggotty calling hs attention to my sufferings, Mr. Barkis gave a lttle mre room at onc, and got away by degree But I culd nt help obsrving that he sed to think he had hit upon a woderful expedient for expresg himf in a neat, agreeable, and poited manr, withut th inconveience of inventig conversati. He manfestly chuckled over it for some time. By and by he turned to Peggotty agai, and repeatig, ‘Are you pretty cfortabl though?’ bore down upon us as before, until the breath was nearly edged out of my body. By and by h made another det upo us with the sam inquiry, and the sam result. At length, I got up whver I saw him coming, and standig on the foot-board, pretended to look at the prospet; after whic I did very wel He was so polite as to stop at a publ-huse, exprey o our acunt, and entertai us with broild mutton and ber. Eve when Peggotty was i the act of drikig, he was sezed with one of those approac, and alt choked her. But as we drew nearer to th end of our journey, he had more to do and les time for galantry; and when we got on Yarmouth pavemt, we were all to much shake and jolted, I appred, to have any leisure for anythig els Mr. Peggotty and Ham waited for us at the old plac They Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 195 receved me and Peggotty in an affectiate manner, and shook hands with Mr. Barki, who, with his hat on the very back of hi ad, and a shame-faced leer upo his counteance, and pervading his very legs, preted but a vacant appearance, I thought. Thy eac took one of Peggotty’s trunks, and we were going away, w Mr. Barkis solemnly made a sign to me with hi forefinger to co under an arcay. ‘I say,’ grod Mr. Barkis, ‘it was al right.’ I looked up into his face, and ansred, with an attempt to be very profound: ‘Oh!’ ‘It didn’t come to a end there,’ said Mr. Barkis, ndding cfidetially. ‘It was al right.’ Again I answered, ‘Oh!’ ‘You kn wh was wi’,’ said my friend. ‘It was Barkis, and Barkis only.’ I nodded assent. ‘It’s al right,’ said Mr. Barki, shakig hands; ‘I’m a friend of your’n You made it all right, first. It’s al right.’ In his attempts to be particularly lucd, Mr. Barkis was so extrey mysterious, that I might have stod lookig in his face for an hour, and mt asuredly should have got as muc formati out of it as out of the fac of a clock that had stopped, but for Peggotty’s callg me away. As we were going along, sh asked me what he had said; and I told her he had said it was al right. ‘Like hi ipudence,’ said Peggotty, ‘but I do’t mind that! Davy dear, wat should you think if I was to thk of being married?’ ‘Why—I suppose you would like me as much th, Peggotty, as Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 196 you do now?’ I returnd, after a littl consideration. Greatly to th astonishment of th passengers in th stret, as well as of her relatio going on before, the good sul was obliged to stop and embrac m on the spot, with many protestations of her unalterabl lve. ‘Tell me what should you say, darlg?’ she asked again, w this was over, and we were walkig on. ‘If you were thinkig of beg married—to Mr. Barki, Peggotty?’ ‘Ye,’ said Peggotty. ‘I should think it would be a very good thing. For then you know, Peggotty, you would always have the horse and cart to bring you over to see me, and could come for nothing, and be sure f coming.’ ‘The s of the dear!’ crid Peggotty. ‘What I have be thinking of, this month back! Yes, my preious; and I thk I should be mre idependet altogether, you se; let al my workig with a better heart in my own house, than I culd i anybody e’s n I do’t know what I mght be fit for, now, as a servant to a stranger. And I shall be always near my pretty’s resting-plac,’ said Peggotty, musing, ‘and be able to see it w I like; and wh I lie do to rest, I may be laid not far off from my darlig girl!’ We nether of us said anything for a lttle whil ‘But I wouldn’t so much as give it anthr thught,’ said Peggotty, cherily ‘if my Davy was anyways against it—not if I had be asked in church thirty times thre times over, and was wearig out the ring in my poket.’ ‘Lok at me, Peggotty,’ I replied; ‘and see if I am nt realy glad, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 197 and don’t truly wish it!’ As indeed I did, with all my heart. ‘Well, my lfe,’ said Peggotty, givig me a squeeze, ‘I have thought of it nght and day, every way I can, and I hope the right way; but I’ll thk of it again, and speak to my brothr about it, and in th meantime we’ll keep it to oursves, Davy, you and me. Barkis is a god plain creature,’ said Peggotty, ‘and if I tried to do my duty by him, I thk it wuld be my fault if I wasn’t—if I wasn’t pretty cofortabl,’ said Peggotty, laughing heartily. This quotation fro Mr. Barkis was so appropriate, and tickled us both so much, that we laughd again and again, and were quite in a pleasant humour wh we came with vi of Mr. Peggotty’s cttage. It looked just th same, except that it may, perhaps, have shrunk a littl in my eye; and Mrs. Gummidge was waiting at th door as if se had stood there ever sie. Al with was the sam, down to the seawd in the blue mug in my bedroom. I went into the out-house to look about me; and the very sam lobsters, crabs, and crawfish possessed by th same desire to pinch th wrld i genral, appeared to be in the sam state of coglration in the same old cornr. But there was no little Em’ly to be s, s I asked Mr. Peggotty were she was ‘She’s at shool, sr,’ said Mr. Peggotty, w iping th heat cequent o the porterage of Peggotty’s box from his forehead; ‘she’l be hom,’ lokig at the Dutch clock, ‘i from twenty minutes to half-an-hur’s time. We all on us fe th loss of hr, bles ye!’ Mrs. Gummidge moaned. ‘Cheer up, Mawthr!’ cried Mr. Peggotty. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 198 ‘I fe it more than anybody el,’ said Mrs Gumidge; ‘I’m a l lrn cretur’, and s used to be a’mt the only thing that didn’t go contrary with me.’ Mrs. Gummidge, whimpering and shaking her head, applied hersef to blowing the fire. Mr. Peggotty, lookig round upo us wile she was so engaged, said in a low voice, wich h shaded with his hand: ‘The old ’un!’ From this I rightly cjetured that no improvet had taken plac since my last vit in th state of Mrs. Gummidge’s spirits. No, the whole place was, or it should have been, quite as deghtful a plac as ever; and yet it did not impre m in the same way. I felt rathr disappoited with it. Perhaps it was beause lttle Em’ly was nt at home. I knew the way by wh sh would co, and pretly found mysf strollig alg the path to meet her. A figure appeared in th distance before long, and I soo knew it to be Em’ly, wh was a littl creature still in stature, thugh she as grown But when she drew narer, and I saw her blue eyes ookig bluer, and her dipld fac lookig brighter, and her w self prettir and gayer, a curius feg came over me that made me preted not to know her, and pass by as if I were lookig at something a long way off. I have done such a thing since in later lfe, or I am mistaken. Little Em’ly didn’t care a bit. She saw m w enough; but itead of turnig round and callg after m, ran away laughing. This obliged me to run after her, and s ran so fast that we were very near the cottage before I caught her. ‘Oh, it’s you, is it?’ said lttle Em’ly. ‘Why, you knew wh it was, Em’ly,’ said I. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 199 ‘And didn’t you know wh it was?’ said Em’ly. I was going to kiss hr, but she covered her cherry lips with her hands, and said she wasn’t a baby now, and ran away, laughng more than ever, ito the house Sh sd to deght in teasig me, whic was a change in her I wondered at very muc The tea table was ready, and our little locker was put out in its old place, but instead of cong to st by me, she went and bestod her company upo that grumblg Mrs. Gumdge: and on Mr. Peggotty’s inquirig why, rumpld her hair al over her fac to hide it, and culd do nthing but laugh ‘A little pus, it is!’ said Mr. Peggotty, patting her with his great hand. ‘So sh’ i! so sh’ is!’ cried Ham. ‘Mas’r Davy bor’, so sh’ is!’ and h sat and chuckld at hr for some time, in a state of mingled admration and deght, that made his face a burnig red. Little Em’ly was spoed by them al, in fact; and by n one re than Mr. Peggotty himf, whom s could have caxed ito anythng, by only gog and laying her chek against his rough isker. That was my opinion, at least, wh I saw her do it; and I held Mr. Peggotty to be thoroughly in the right. But s was s affectionate and swet-natured, and had such a plasant manr of being both sly and shy at once, that she captivated me more than ever. She was teder-hearted, too; for when, as we sat round the fire after tea, an allus was made by Mr. Peggotty over hs pipe to th loss I had sustained, th tears stod in her eye, and she looked at me so kindly acro th tabl, that I felt quite thankful to her. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 200 ‘Ah!’ said Mr. Peggotty, takig up her curls, and runnig them over his hand lke water, ‘here’s another orphan, you see, sr. And here,’ said Mr. Peggotty, giving Ham a backhanded knock in the ct, ‘i another of ’e, though he do’t look muc like it.’ ‘If I had you for my guardian, Mr. Peggotty,’ said I, shakig my head, ‘I do’t think I should feel much like it.’ ‘Well said, Mas’r Davy bor’!’ cried Ham, in an ecstasy. ‘Horah! We said! Nor mre you wouldn’t! Hor! Hor!’—Here he returned Mr. Peggotty’s back-hander, and lttle Em’ly got up and kid Mr. Peggotty. ‘And ho’s your friend, sir?’ said Mr. Peggotty to me. ‘Steerforth?’ said I. ‘That’s the nam!’ crid Mr. Peggotty, turnig to Ham ‘I knowd it was something in our way.’ ‘You said it was Rudderford,’ observed Ham, laughng. ‘We!’ retorted Mr. Peggotty. ‘Ad ye ster with a rudder, do’t ye? It ai’t fur off. How is he, sir?’ ‘He was very we indeed when I came away, Mr. Peggotty.’ ‘Thre’s a friend!’ said Mr. Peggotty, stretcng out his pipe ‘Thre’s a friend, if you talk of friends! Why, Lord love my hart alve, if it ai’t a treat to look at him!’ ‘He is very handsome, is he not?’ said I, my heart warmg with this praise. ‘Handsome!’ cried Mr. Peggotty. ‘He stands up to you lke—like a—wy I don’t kn what he do’t stand up to you like He’s s bold!’ ‘Ye! That’s just his character,’ said I. ‘He’s as brave as a lion, and you can’t think how frank he i, Mr. Peggotty.’ ‘And I do suppose, now,’ said Mr. Peggotty, looking at me through the soke of his pipe, ‘that in the way of bok-larng Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 201 h’d take the wid out of a’most anythg.’ ‘Yes,’ said I, delghted; ‘he kns everythg. He is astonishingly clever.’ ‘There’s a friend!’ murmured Mr. Peggotty, with a grave toss of his head. ‘Nothing se to cot him any trouble,’ said I. ‘He knows a task if he only looks at it. He is th best cricketer you ever saw. He ll give you almost as many men as you lke at draughts, and beat you easy.’ Mr. Peggotty gave his head another toss, as muc as to say: ‘Of course he wi’ ‘He is such a speaker,’ I pursued, ‘that he can win anybody over; and I don’t know wat you’d say if you were to hear hi g, Mr. Peggotty.’ Mr. Peggotty gave his head another toss, as muc as to say: ‘I have no doubt of it.’ ‘Thn, he’s such a gerous, fi, noble fellow,’ said I, quite carrid away by my favourite th, ‘that it’s hardly possible to give him as much praise as h deserve. I am sure I can never fe thankful eough for the genrosity with whic he has protected m, so muc younger and lwer in the school than himf.’ I was rung on, very fast inded, wen my eyes reted on lttle Em’ly’s fac, whh was bet forward over the table, litenig wth the deepest atteti, her breath held, her blue eyes sparkling like je, and th colour mantlng in her cheks. She looked so extraordinarily earnt and pretty, that I stopped in a srt of woder; and they al obsrved her at the sam ti, for as I stopped, they laughed and looked at her. ‘Em’ly is like me,’ said Peggotty, ‘and would like to see him.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 202 Em’ly was confusd by our all observing her, and hung dow her head, and her fac was covered with blushes. Glang up pretly through her stray curls, and seg that we were al ookig at her sti (I am sure I, for one, could have looked at her for hours), she ran away, and kept away ti it was nearly bedtime. I lay do in the old lttle bed i the stern of the boat, and the wnd came moang on across th flat as it had done before. But I culd nt help fancying, nw, that it moaned of those who were gone; and itead of thinkig that the sea might ris in the night and float the boat away, I thought of the sa that had ris, s I last hard th sounds, and drod my happy ho I rellect, as the wind and water began to sound faiter in my ears, putting a short claus ito my prayers, petitioning that I might grow up to marry littl Em’ly, and so dropping lovingly asleep. Th days passed pretty much as thy had passed before, except—it was a great exception—that littl Em’ly and I seldo andered on the beach n She had tasks to learn, and needlwrk to do; and was absent during a great part of each day. But I felt that we should nt have had those old wanderings, even if it had be othrwise. Wid and full of childish whs as Em’ly was, se was more of a little woan than I had supposed. She sed to have got a great ditan away from me, i little more than a year. She liked me, but she laughd at me, and tormted me; and when I went to meet her, stole home another way, and was laughng at th door wh I came back, disappoited. Th best tim were when sh sat quietly at work in the doorway, and I sat on the wooden step at her feet, readig to her. It seems to me, at this hur, that I have never see such sunlight as on th bright April afternoons; that I have never s suc a sunny lttle figure Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 203 as I used to se, stting in the doorway of the old boat; that I have never bed such sky, such water, such glrified ships saig away into gode air. On the very first eveg after our arrival, Mr. Barki appeared in an exceedigly vacant and awkward condition, and with a bundl of oranges tied up in a handkerchef. As he made no allusion of any kind to this property, h was supposd to have left it behd hm by accident wh he went away; until Ham, running after hm to restore it, came back with th information that it was tended for Peggotty. After that occasn he appeared every eveg at exactly the sam hour, and alays with a little bundl, to wich h never alluded, and which he regularly put bend th door and left there. The offerigs of affecti were of a mot varius and eccentric desription. Amg th I remember a double set of pigs’ trotters, a huge pin-cus, half a bushe or so of appl, a pair of jet earrings, some Spanish oions, a box of dominoe, a canary bird and cage, and a leg of pickled pork. Mr. Barkis’s wng, as I reber it, was altogethr of a peculiar kid. He very seldom said anythng; but wuld sit by th fire in much th same attitude as h sat i his cart, and stare heaviy at Peggotty, who was oppote One nght, beg, as I suppose, inspired by love, he made a dart at th bit of wax-candle she kept for her thread, and put it in his waistcat-pocket and carried it off. After that, his great deght was to produce it when it was wanted, sticking to th lining of his pocket, i a partially melted state, and pocket it again wh it was done wth. He eemed to enjoy himf very muc, and not to feel at al caled upon to talk. Eve when he took Peggotty out for a walk o the flats, he had no unasine on that had, I belve; conteting Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 204 hmself with now and th asking her if she was pretty comfortable; and I remember that sometimes, after h was go, Peggotty would throw her apron over her fac, and laugh for halfan-hour. Inded, we were al mre or le amused, excpt that miserabl Mrs. Gummidge, wh courtsip would appear to have bee of an exactly parallel nature, she was so continualy reded by the tranacti of the old one. At length, wh th term of my visit was nearly expired, it was given out that Peggotty and Mr. Barki were going to make a day’s holiday together, and that little Em’ly and I were to acpany them I had but a broke slp the night before, in anticpation of the pleasure of a whole day with Em’ly. We were al astir beti the morning; and whil we were yet at breakfast, Mr. Barki appeared i th distance, driving a chaise-cart toards th object of his affections. Peggotty was dred as usual, in her nat and quiet mournig; but Mr. Barkis bld in a ne blue coat, of which th tair had given him suc good measure, that the cuffs would have rendered glve unnecessary in th coldest weathr, wile th coar was so hgh that it pushed his hair up on ed o th top of h had. Hi bright buttons, to, were of th larget size. Rendered complete by drab pantaloon and a buff waitcoat, I thought Mr. Barki a phenomon of respectabity. When we were al i a bustl outsde the door, I found that Mr. Peggotty was prepared with an old shoe, whic was to be thrown after us for luck, and whic he offered to Mrs. Gumdge for that purpo ‘No It had better be done by smebody e, Dan’l,’ said Mrs Gummidge ‘I’m a lone lorn cretur’ myself, and everythnk that Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 205 reminds me of cretur’s that ain’t lone and lorn, go contrary wth me.’ ‘Come, old gal!’ cried Mr. Peggotty. ‘Take and heave it.’ ‘No, Dan’l,’ returnd Mrs. Gumidge, whpering and shaking hr head. ‘If I felt less, I could do more You don’t fe like me, Dan’l; thinks do’t go cotrary with you, nor you with them; you had better do it yourself.’ But here Peggotty, who had be going about from one to another in a hurried way, kig everybody, caled out from the cart, in which we all were by this time (Em’ly and I o tw littl chairs, side by side), that Mrs. Gummidge must do it. So Mrs Gummidge did it; and, I am sorry to relate, cast a damp upo th festive character of our departure, by immediatey bursting ito tears, and snkig subdued ito the arm of Ham, with the declaration that she knd she was a burde, and had better be carrid to th Hous at once. Which I really thught was a sensible idea, that Ham mght have acted on. ay we went, however, on our holiday excursi; and the first thing w did was to stop at a church, whre Mr. Barki tid th horse to so rai, and went in with Peggotty, lavig lttle Em’ly and me alon in th chaise I tok that occasi to put my arm round Em’ly’s waist, and propo that as I was going away so very soo now, we should determ to be very affectionate to o another, and very happy, al day. Little Em’ly cnseting, and alwing me to ki her, I beam deperate; iformig her, I rellect, that I never could love anthr, and that I was prepared to shed the blood of anybody who should aspire to her affecti How mrry lttle Em’ly made hersef about it! With what a demure assumpti of beig immeny older and wir than I, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 206 th fairy littl woman said I was ‘a silly boy’; and th laughd so charmingly that I forgot th pain of beg called by that disparagig name, in th plasure of looking at her. Mr. Barkis and Peggotty were a god while in th church, but cam out at last, and then we drove away into the cuntry. As we were going along, Mr. Barki turned to m, and said, with a wink,—by the by, I should hardly have thought, before, that he could wink: ‘What name was it as I wrote up in the cart?’ ‘Cara Peggotty,’ I anred. ‘What name would it be as I should write up now, if thre was a tilt here?’ ‘Cara Peggotty, agai?’ I suggested. ‘Cara Peggotty Barki !’ he returned, and burst ito a roar of laughter that shook the chai In a word, they were married, and had gone into the church for n other purpose Peggotty was resved that it should be quietly do; and the clerk had give her away, and there had been n tnsses of th ceremony. She was a littl confusd w Mr. Barkis made this abrupt announcement of thr union, and could not hug me enugh in token of her unimpaired affection; but she soo became hersf again, and said she was very glad it was over. We drove to a little in in a by-road, where we wre expeted, and where we had a very cofortable dier, and pasd the day with great satisfactio If Peggotty had be married every day for the last te years, she could hardly have been more at her eas about it; it made no sort of difference in her: she was just th same as ever, and went out for a stroll with littl Em’ly and me before tea, while Mr. Barkis philosphicaly smoked hi pipe, and ejoyed Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 207 hmself, I suppose, wth th conteplation of hi happiness. If so, it sharpened h appetite; for I distinctly call to mid that, although he had eaten a good deal of pork and greens at dinner, and had finised off with a fowl or two, he was obliged to have cold boiled bacon for tea, and disposed of a large quantity withut any emoti I have often thought, sie, what an odd, int, out-of-theway kind of wedding it must have be! We got into th chaise agai soon after dark, and drove cy back, lookig up at the stars, and talkig about th. I was thr chief exponent, and oped Mr. Barki’s mnd to an amazig extent. I told him al I knew, but he would have beeved anything I might have taken it ito my head to ipart to him; for he had a profound veneratio for my abiities, and informd his wife in my harig, o that very occasi, that I was ‘a young Roeus’—by which I thk h meant prodigy. When w had exhausted the subject of the stars, or rather when I had exhausted th mental faculties of Mr. Barkis, littl Em’ly and I made a cloak of an old wrapper, and sat under it for th rest of the journey. Ah, how I loved her! What happi (I thought) if we were married, and were going away anywhere to live among the tree and i the fieds, nver growing older, never growing wisr, childre ever, ramblng hand in hand through sunshi and among flowery meadows, laying down our heads o m at night, i a sweet sleep of purity and peace, and buried by the birds when w were dead! Some such picture, with no real wrld in it, bright with the light of our innce, and vague as the stars afar off, was my md al the way. I am glad to think there were two suc guil hearts at Peggotty’s marriage as little Em’ly’s and mi I Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 208 am glad to thk th Loves and Graces tok such airy forms in its homely proceson. We, we cam to the old boat agai in good tim at night; and there Mr. and Mrs. Barki bade us good-bye, and drove away sugly to their own home I felt then, for the first tim, that I had lt Peggotty. I should have gone to bed with a sore heart inded under any other roof but that whic shtered little Em’ly’s head. Mr. Peggotty and Ham kn what was in my thoughts as well as I did, and were ready with some supper and thr hspitable faces to drive it away. Littl Em’ly came and sat besde me o th ker for the only tim in all that vist; and it was altogether a wderful close to a woderful day. It was a nght tide; and soon after we went to bed, Mr. Peggotty and Ham went out to fish. I felt very brave at beig left alon i th solitary house, th protetor of Em’ly and Mrs. Gummidge, and only wished that a lion or a serpet, or any ill-disposed mter, would make an attack upon us, that I might detroy him, and cover myself with glry. But as nothing of th sort happened to be walkig about on Yarmouth flats that nght, I provided the bet substitute I could by dreamg of dragons until mrnig. With mrnig cam Peggotty; who cald to me, as usual, under my wido as if Mr. Barkis the carrier had been fro first to last a dream too. After breakfast she took m to her own home, and a beautiful littl home it was. Of all th moveables in it, I must have be impressed by a certain od bureau of some dark wd in th parlour (the til-floored kitchen was the general stting-room), with a retreating top whic oped, lt down, and beam a dek, wthin wich was a large quarto edition of Foxe’s Bok of Martyrs. This precious volume, of which I do not ret o wrd, I Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 209 immediatey discovered and immediatey applied myself to; and I never visited th house afterwards, but I kneeled o a chair, opened the casket where th ge was enrid, spread my arm ver th desk, and fell to devouring th bok afresh. I was chiefly edified, I am afraid, by th picture, wich wre numerous, and repreted al kinds of dial horrors; but the Martyrs and Peggotty’s house have been inparable in my mid ever si, and are now I took leave of Mr. Peggotty, and Ham, and Mrs. Gumdge, and little Em’ly, that day; and pasd the nght at Peggotty’s, i a lttle room in the roof (with the Crocodie Book on a shf by the bed’s head) which was to be always mine, Peggotty said, and should alays be kept for me in exactly the same state. ‘Young or old, Davy dear, as log as I am alve and have this use over my head,’ said Peggotty, ‘you shall fid it as if I expeted you here diretly miute. I sal keep it every day, as I used to kep your old little room, my darlig; and if you was to go to Ca, you mght think of it as beg kept just the sam, al the time you were away.’ I felt th truth and constancy of my dear old nurs, with all my hart, and thanked her as we as I could. That was not very wll, for she spoke to me thus, with her arm round my neck, in th rnig, and I was going home in the mornig, and I went home the morning, with hersef and Mr. Barki i the cart. They lft m at the gate, not easy or lightly; and it was a strange sght to m to se the cart go on, takig Peggotty away, and leavig m under the old el-trees lookig at the house, in wh there was no face to look on mine with love or liking any more And now I fell into a state of neglt, which I cannt look back Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 210 upo withut compassion. I fell at oce into a soltary codition,— apart fro all friendly notice, apart fro th society of all othr boys of my own age, apart fro all companionship but my ow spiritless thughts,—which see to cast its gl upo this paper as I write What would I have give, to have be set to th hardet shool that ever was kept!—to have been taught sthing, anyhow, anywhere! No suc hope dawed upo m They diked m; and they suly, sterny, steadiy, overlooked me. I thk Mr. Murdsto’s means were straited at about this time; but it is lttle to the purpose He could nt bear me; and in putting me from hi he tried, as I beve, to put away the ntion that I had any claim upo him—and succeeded. I was nt actively il-used. I was not beate, or starved; but the wrong that was do to me had n interval of reltig, and was done in a systeatic, passions manr. Day after day, wk after wek, month after month, I was codly neglted. I wnder sometimes, w I thk of it, what thy would have done if I had be take with an il; whthr I shuld have lai do in my lonely ro, and languished through it in my usual soltary way, or whether anybody would have helped me out. Whe Mr. and Miss Murdsto were at ho, I tok my meals th them; in their abse, I ate and drank by mysf. At al ti I lounged about the house and neghbourhood quite diregarded, except that thy were jealous of my making any friends: thking, perhaps, that if I did, I might complain to someo For this reason, though Mr. Chlip often asked m to go and s hi (he was a widowr, having, some years before that, lost a littl small light-haired wife, wh I can just remember conting i my Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 211 own thoughts with a pal tortois-shel cat), it was but sdo that I enjoyed the happi of pasg an afternoon in hi coset of a surgery; readig so book that was new to m, with the s of the whole Pharmacpoeia cg up my n, or poundig something in a mortar under his mild direction For th same reason, added no doubt to th old diike of hr, I was seldom allowd to visit Peggotty. Faithful to her pro, she either cam to see m, or met m soere near, on every wk, and never epty-handed; but many and bitter were th disappoitmts I had, in beg refused permission to pay a visit to her at her house So few tim, however, at log interval, I was allwed to go there; and then I found out that Mr. Barki was thing of a mr, or as Peggotty dutifully expred it, was ‘a littl near’, and kept a heap of money in a box under his bed, wich he preteded was only ful of coats and trousers. In this coffer, his riche hid thlve with such a tenacious modesty, that th smallest instalments could only be tempted out by artifice; s that Peggotty had to prepare a log and elaborate sc, a very Gunpowder Plot, for every Saturday’s expe l this time I was so conscius of th waste of any proise I had given, and of my beg utterly negleted, that I should have been perfectly mirable, I have n doubt, but for the old books They were my only cfort; and I was as true to them as they wre to me, and read th over and over I don’t know ho many times more I now approach a perid of my life, which I can nver lose th remembran of, while I remember anythng: and th rellection of whic has often, without my invocation, c before me lke a ghost, and haunted happir tim Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 212 I had been out, one day, loterig soere, in the ltl, mditative manr that my way of life engendered, when, turning the crner of a lan nar our house, I cam upon Mr. Murdstone walkig with a gentlan. I was cfused, and was going by them, w th gentleman cried: ‘What! Brooks!’ ‘No, sir, David Copperfield,’ I said. ‘Don’t te me. You are Broks,’ said the getlan ‘You are Broks of Sheffield. That’s your name.’ At th words, I observed th gentleman more attentivey. Hi laugh comng to my remembrance to, I kn him to be Mr. Qui, whom I had gon over to Lowestoft with Mr. Murdstone to se, before—it is no matter—I ned not recall when ‘And how do you get on, and where are you beg educated, Broks?’ said Mr. Quiion. He had put his hand upo my shoulder, and turned me about, to walk with them I did nt know what to reply, and gland dubiously at Mr. Murdstone ‘He is at home at prest,’ said the latter. ‘He is nt beg educated anywre I do’t kn what to do with hi He is a difficult subjet.’ That old, double look was on me for a moment; and th h eyes darkeed with a frown, as it turned, i its avers, elsere. ‘Humph!’ said Mr. Quin, lookig at us both, I thought. ‘Fi weather!’ Silence ensued, and I was cosiderig ho I could best digage my shoulder from his hand, and go away, when he said: ‘I suppose you are a pretty sharp fellow still? Eh, Broks?’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 213 ‘Aye! He is sharp enugh,’ said Mr. Murdsto, impatitly. ‘You had better let him go. He will not thank you for troublg hi’ On this hint, Mr. Quinion released me, and I made th best of my way home Lookig back as I turned into the front garde, I saw Mr. Murdstone lang agait the wicket of the churchyard, and Mr. Qui talkig to him They were both lookig after me, and I felt that they were speakig of m Mr. Qui lay at our house that night. After breakfast, the nxt mornig, I had put my chair away, and was going out of the room, when Mr. Murdstone calld m back. He then gravey repaired to anthr tabl, whre his sister sat hrsf at hr desk. Mr. Quinion, with his hands in his pockets, stod lookig out of wndow; and I stod looking at th all. ‘David,’ said Mr. Murdsto, ‘to th young this is a world for acti; not for moping and drog in.’ —‘As you do,’ added his sister. ‘Jane Murdsto, leave it to me, if you plase. I say, David, to the young this is a world for action, and not for mpig and droing in. It is especally so for a young boy of your disposition, whic require a great deal of correctig; and to whic n greater srvic can be do than to force it to coform to the ways of the wrking world, and to bend it and break it.’ ‘For stubbornness wn’t do here,’ said his sister ‘What it wants is, to be crusd. And crusd it must be. Shall be, to!’ He gave her a look, half i remtran, half in approval, and went on: ‘I suppose you know, David, that I am not rich. At any rate, you know it now You have received some coiderable education Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 214 already. Education is costly; and eve if it were not, and I could afford it, I am of opiion that it would not be at all advantageus to you to be kept at school. What is before you, is a fight with the world; and the sooner you begin it, the better.’ I think it occurred to me that I had already begun it, in my poor way: but it occurs to me nw, whether or no ‘You have heard the “countig-house” metid stim,’ said Mr. Murdstone ‘Th counting-huse, sir?’ I repeated. ‘Of Murdsto and Grinby, in th wi trade,’ he replied. I suppose I looked uncertain, for he went on hastily: ‘You have heard the “countig-house” metid, or the business, or th cellars, or th wharf, or something about it.’ ‘I think I have heard th business mentioned, sir,’ I said, reberig what I vaguely knew of his and his ster’s resources. ‘But I don’t know wh’ ‘It do not matter when,’ he returned. ‘Mr. Qui manages that business.’ I gland at the latter deferentialy as he stood lookig out of window. ‘Mr. Quinion suggests that it gives emplyment to some othr boys, and that he se n reas why it shouldn’t, on the sam terms, give employmet to you.’ ‘He having,’ Mr. Quinion observed in a low voice, and half turning round, ‘no othr prospect, Murdsto’ Mr. Murdstone, with an impatiet, eve an angry gesture, resumed, withut noticing what he had said: ‘Those terms are, that you wil earn enough for yoursef to provide for your eatig and drikig, and poket-money. Your Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 215 lodging (wich I have arranged for) will be paid by me. So w your washing—’ ‘—Which wi be kept dow to my estiate,’ said his sister. ‘Your clothes wil be looked after for you, too,’ said Mr. Murdstone; ‘as you wil nt be abl, yet aw, to get them for yoursf. So you are now going to Londo, David, with Mr. Quinion, to begin th world on your own account.’ ‘In short, you are provided for,’ observed hi sister; ‘and wi please to do your duty.’ Though I quite understood that the purpose of this announcement was to get rid of me, I have no distict remembran whthr it pleased or frighted me. My impression is, that I was in a state of confusion about it, and, oatig betwee the two pots, touched nther. Nor had I muc tim for the claring of my thoughts, as Mr. Qui was to go upo the mrrow. Bed me, on th morro, in a much-wrn littl white hat, wth a black crape round it for my mothr, a black jacket, and a pair of hard, stiff corduroy trousers—which Miss Murdsto dered the bet armur for the legs in that fight with the world wich was now to come off. behd me so attired, and wth my littl wrldly all before me in a small trunk, sitting, a lone lorn child (as Mrs. Gumidge might have said), in th post-cai that was carrying Mr. Quiion to th London coac at Yarmuth! See, how our house and church are lenig in the ditan; how the grave beath the tree is blotted out by interveng objects; how th spire poits upwards fro my old playground no more, and th sky is empty! Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 216 Chapter 11 I BEGIN LIFE ON MY OWN ACCOUNT, AND DON’T LIKE IT I know enough of the world now, to have alt lot the capacity of beg much surprid by anythng; but it is matter of some surprise to me, eve now, that I can have be so easily thro away at such an age A chid of excellent abiities, and with strong powrs of observation, quick, eager, delicate, and soo hurt bodily or mentally, it sees wonderful to me that nobody should have made any sign in my behalf. But none was made; and I became, at ten years old, a littl labouring hind in th rvice of Murdsto and Griby. Murdsto and Grinby’s wareuse was at th waterside. It was dow in Blackfriars. Modern improvets have altered th plac; but it was th last house at th bottom of a narro stret, curving down hil to the river, with so stairs at the end, where peopl took boat. It was a crazy old house with a wharf of its own, abutting o the water when the tide was i, and on the mud when the tide was out, and lterally overrun with rats. Its pand ros, discoloured with th dirt and smoke of a hundred years, I dare say; its decaying flrs and staircase; th squeaking and sufflig of the old grey rats down in the cars; and the dirt and rotten of the plac; are things, not of many years ago, in my mnd, but of the pret intant. They are al before me, just as they were in the evi hour when I wt amg them for the first tim, with my tremblig hand in Mr. Qui’s Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 217 Murdsto and Grinby’s trade was among a god many kinds of people, but an important branch of it was th supply of ws and spirits to certain packet ships. I forget now whre thy chiefly went, but I think there were so among them that made voyages both to the East and Wet Indi I know that a great many epty bottle were one of the consequen of this traffic, and that crtai m and boys were employed to exame them agait th ght, and reject those that were flawd, and to rinse and was them. When the empty bottl ran short, there were labe to be pasted o full one, or crks to be fitted to them, or seal to be put upo th corks, or finished bottl to be packed in casks. All th rk was my work, and of the boys emplyed upo it I was one. There were three or four of us, cunting m My workig plac as etablished in a cornr of th wareuse, whre Mr. Quinion uld see m, when he chose to stand up on the bottom rai of his tool i the counting-house, and look at me through a window above the dek. Hither, on the first mornig of my s auspiusly beginnig lfe on my own acunt, the oldet of the regular boys was sumd to sho me my busine. His name was Mick Walker, and he wore a ragged apron and a paper cap. He iformed me that his fathr was a bargean, and walked, in a black velvet head-dres, i the Lord Mayor’s Show. He al iformed me that our pripal asate would be another boy whom he itroduced by the—to me—extraordinary nam of Mealy Potatoes I discovered, hover, that this youth had not be christed by that nam, but that it had be betowed upo him i the warehouse, on acunt of his cplxio, whic was pal or maly. Mealy’s father was a waterman, who had the additional distiction of beg a fireman, and was egaged as such at on of Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 218 the large theatres; where so young reati of Mealy’s—I thk his littl sister—did Imps in th Pantoimes No words can express th secret agoy of my soul as I sunk ito this companionship; compared th heforth everyday assocate with th of my happier chid hood—not to say with Sterforth, Traddles, and th rest of th boys; and felt my hope of growing up to be a learned and ditiguished man, crushed i y bo The deep rebrane of the see I had, of beg utterly withut hope now; of th shame I felt in my position; of th ry it was to my young heart to beve that day by day what I had learned, and thught, and delighted in, and raid my fany and my emulation up by, would pass away fro me, littl by littl, nver to be brought back any more; cant be written As often as Mick Walker wnt away in th course of that forenoo, I mingled my tears with the water in whic I was wasg the bottle; and sobbed as if thre were a flaw in my own breast, and it were in danger of bursting. Th counting-huse clock was at half past twve, and thre as geral preparation for going to dinner, wh Mr. Quiion tapped at the counting-house window, and bekoned to me to go in. I wnt in, and found thre a stoutish, middle-aged pers, in a brown surtout and black tights and shoes, with n more hair upo is had (wich was a large on, and very shining) than thre is upon an egg, and with a very extenve fac, whic he turned ful upo me. His cloths were shabby, but he had an imposing shirtcoar o. He carrid a jaunty sort of a stick, with a large pair of rusty tassels to it; and a quizzing-glass hung outside his coat,—for ornamt, I afterwards found, as he very sedom looked through it, and couldn’t see anythng wh he did. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 219 ‘This,’ said Mr. Quiion, in alus to mysef, ‘is he.’ ‘This,’ said th stranger, with a certain condescendig ro in hi voice, and a certain indescribable air of doig somthing gente, wich impred me very much, ‘is Master Copperfid. I hope I see you we, sir?’ I said I was very wll, and hoped he was. I was sufficiently ill at ease, Heave knows; but it was not in my nature to complain uc at that ti of my life, so I said I was very we, and hoped he was ‘I am,’ said the stranger, ‘thank Heaven, quite we. I have recved a ltter from Mr. Murdstone, in whic he mtins that he would dere me to recve into an apartmet in the rear of my huse, wich is at pret unccupid—and is, in short, to be let as a—in short,’ said th stranger, with a smile and in a burst of cfide, ‘as a bedroom—the young beginner whom I have no th pleasure to—’ and th stranger waved hs hand, and settld h chin in his shirt-coar. ‘This is Mr. Micawber,’ said Mr. Quinion to me. ‘Ahm!’ said the stranger, ‘that is my name.’ ‘Mr. Micawber,’ said Mr. Qui, ‘i known to Mr. Murdstone He takes orders for us on commission, wh he can get any. He has be written to by Mr. Murdstone, on the subjet of your lodgings, and he wi receive you as a lodger.’ ‘My address,’ said Mr. Micawber, ‘is Windsor Terrace, City Road. I—in short,’ said Mr. Miawber, with the same geteel air, and in another burst of cofidence—‘I lve there.’ I made hi a bow ‘Under th impresion,’ said Mr. Micawber, ‘that your peregrination in this metropois have not as yet be extensive, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 220 and that you might have so difficulty i petratig the arcana of the Modern Babyl in the direti of the City Road,—in short,’ said Mr. Micawber, in anthr burst of confidece, ‘that you might lose yourself—I shall be happy to call this eveg, and ital you in the knowldge of the nearest way.’ I thanked h wth all my heart, for it was friendly in him to offer to take that troubl ‘At what hour,’ said Mr. Miawber, ‘shal I—’ ‘At about eight,’ said Mr. Qui ‘At about eight,’ said Mr. Miawber. ‘I beg to wish you god day, Mr. Quinion. I wi intrude no longer.’ So he put on his hat, and went out with his can under his arm: very upright, and hummg a tune when he was clar of the counting-huse Mr. Qui then formaly engaged me to be as useful as I culd in th wareuse of Murdsto and Griby, at a salary, I thk, of six shings a wk. I am not clar whthr it was six or seven. I am ind to believe, fro my uncertainty on th head, that it was six at first and seven afterwards. He paid me a wk dow (from his own pocket, I believe), and I gave Mealy sixpence out of it to get my trunk carried to Windsr Terrac that night: it beg to heavy for my strength, small as it was. I paid sixpece more for my dinner, which was a meat pie and a turn at a neighbouring pump; and passed th hour which was allowd for that meal, in walkig about the streets t the appoted tim in the eveg, Mr. Micawber reappeared. I washed my hands and face, to do th greater hour to his gentility, and we walked to our house, as I suppose I must now call it, togethr; Mr. Micawber impressing th name of Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 221 strets, and th shapes of cornr house upo me, as w wnt along, that I might find my way back, easy, in the morning. Arrived at this house in Windsor Terrace (wich I noticed was shabby like himself, but also, like himself, made all th sho it could), h preted me to Mrs. Miawber, a thin and faded lady, nt at all young, who was stting in the parlour (the first floor was altogether unfurnid, and the blids were kept do to deude the neghbours), with a baby at her breast. This baby was one of twin; and I may remark here that I hardly ever, in al my experice of th family, saw both th twins detached fro Mrs Miawber at the sam ti. One of them was alays takig refreshment. There were two other cdren; Master Miawber, aged about four, and Mi Miawber, aged about three. The, and a darkcplexioned young woman, with a habit of snorting, who was rvant to the famy, and informed me, before half an hour had expired, that she was ‘a Orfling’, and came fro St. Luke’s workhouse, in the neghbourhood, cplted the establihmet. My room was at the top of the house, at the back: a close chamber; stecilled al over with an ornament which my young imagination repreted as a blue muffin; and very scantily furnd. ‘I nver thught,’ said Mrs. Micawber, when she came up, tw and all, to show me the apartmet, and sat down to take breath, ‘before I was marrid, wh I lived with papa and mama, that I should ever find it nary to take a lodger. But Mr. Miawber beg in difficulties, all considerations of private feg must give way.’ I said: ‘Yes, ma’am.’ ‘Mr. Micawber’s difficulties are almost overwming just at Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 222 pret,’ said Mrs. Miawber; ‘and wthr it is posble to bring hi through them, I do’t know. Wh I lived at home with papa and mama, I realy should have hardly understood what the word meant, in th sen in which I now emply it, but experitia doe it,—as papa usd to say.’ I cannot satisfy myself whthr she told me that Mr. Miawber had been an officr in the Marin, or whether I have imagied it. I only know that I beve to this hour that he WAS i the Marin onc upo a tim, without knowing why. He was a srt of town traveller for a number of misclaneus huses, now; but made lttle or nothing of it, I am afraid. ‘If Mr. Micawber’s creditors wll not give him tim,’ said Mrs. Miawber, ‘they must take the coequenc; and the sooner they bring it to an issue th better. Bld cant be obtained fro a sto, neithr can anythng on account be obtaind at pret (nt to mention law expenses) fro Mr. Miawber.’ I never can quite understand whthr my precious selfdepedenc cofused Mrs Miawber in referee to my age, or wether se was so full of the subject that she would have talked about it to the very twin if there had be nbody el to communicate with, but this was th strain in which she began, and s went on acrdigly al the tim I kn her. Poor Mrs. Miawber! She said she had trid to exert herself, and s, I have no doubt, she had. The cetre of the street door was perfetly covered with a great brass-plate, on which was engraved ‘Mrs. Micawber’s Boardig Establishment for Young Ladies’: but I nver found that any young lady had ever been to school there; or that any young lady ever cam, or proposed to co; or that the least preparation was ever made to receive any young lady. Th Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 223 only visitors I ever saw, or hard of, wre creditors. They used to me at all hours, and some of th were quite ferocious. One dirty-faced man, I thk h was a boot-maker, usd to edge hif into th passage as early as seven o’clock in th morng, and cal up the stairs to Mr. Micawber—‘C! You ain’t out yet, you kn. Pay us, wi you? Don’t hide, you kn; that’s mean. I wouldn’t be mean if I was you. Pay us, wil you? You just pay us, d’ye hear? C!’ Revig n ansr to thes taunts, he would munt i his wrath to the words ‘swindlrs’ and ‘robbers’; and thes beg inffectual too, would stim go to the extremty of crossing th stret, and roaring up at th windows of th second floor, where he knew Mr. Miawber was At the ti, Mr. Micawber would be tranported with grief and mortification, eve to th length (as I was once made aware by a scream fro hs wfe) of makig mtions at himelf with a razor; but within half-an-hour afterwards, h wuld polish up hi shos with extraordinary pains, and go out, hummg a tune with a greater air of gentity than ver. Mrs. Micawber was quite as elastic. I have knn hr to be thrown into faiting fits by the kig’s taxes at three o’cock, and to eat lamb chops, breaded, and drink warm ale (paid for wth tw tea-spoons that had gone to the pawbroker’s) at four. On one ccasi, w an exeution had just be put in, coming home through some chance as early as six o’clock, I saw her lyig (of curse with a twin) under the grate in a swoon, with her hair al torn about her fac; but I nver kn her more chrful than s was, that very sam nght, over a veal cutlet before the kitchen fire, telling me stories about her papa and mama, and th pany they used to keep. In this house, and wth this family, I passed my leisure time. My Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 224 on exclusive breakfast of a penny loaf and a penywrth of milk, I provided myself. I kept anothr small loaf, and a modicum of che, on a particular shef of a particular cupboard, to make my supper o w I came back at night. This made a ho in th six or seven shillings, I kn wll; and I was out at th wareuse all day, and had to support myself on that money all th wk. Fro Monday morng until Saturday night, I had no advic, n unl, no enuraget, no conation, no assistance, no support, of any kind, fro anyo, that I can call to mid, as I hope to go to heave! I was so young and chidish, and so littl qualified—ho could I be otherwis?—to undertake the whole carge of my own existece, that often, in going to Murdsto and Griby’s, of a morng, I could not resist th stale pastry put out for sale at halfprice at th pastrycoks’ doors, and spet in that th money I should have kept for my dier. Then, I went without my dinner, or bought a roll or a se of puddig. I remeber two puddig shops, betw which I was divided, according to my fiances One was in a court clos to St. Martin’s Curch—at th back of th church,—which is now removed altogethr. Th pudding at that shop was made of currants, and was rathr a speal puddig, but was dear, twopeyworth nt beg larger than a pennyworth of mre ordinary puddig. A good shop for the latter was in the Strand—somre in that part which has be rebuilt si It was a stout pale pudding, heavy and flabby, and wth great flat raisins in it, stuck in w at wde distances apart. It came up ht at about my time every day, and many a day did I dine off it. Whe I dined regularly and handsomely, I had a saveloy and a peny laf, or a fourpey plate of red beef from a cook’s shop; or a plate Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 225 of bread and cheese and a glas of beer, from a mrable od public-huse opposte our plac of business, called th Li, or th Lion and sothing el that I have forgotten On, I rember carrying my own bread (whic I had brought from home in the morng) under my arm, wrapped in a pi of paper, like a book, and going to a famous alamode beef-huse near Drury Lane, and ordering a ‘sall plate’ of that deacy to eat with it. What the waiter thught of such a strange littl appariti cong i all alon, I don’t kn; but I can se hm now, staring at me as I ate y dir, and briging up the other waiter to look. I gave hi a halfpey for himelf, and I wis he hadn’t taken it. We had half-an-hour, I think, for tea. When I had moy eough, I used to get half-a-pit of ready-made cffee and a s f bread and butter. Whe I had none, I usd to look at a venison shop in Flt Stret; or I have strolled, at such a time, as far as Covet Garde Market, and stared at the piappl. I was fond of wanderig about th Adelphi, beaus it was a mysterious plac, wth those dark arc. I se mysf emergig one evenig from of the arc, on a little publ-house cose to the river, wth an ope space before it, whre some coal-havers wre dancig; to look at whom I sat down upo a beh. I wonder what they thought of me! I was such a chid, and so littl, that frequently wh I went into th bar of a strange public-huse for a glass of ale or porter, to moiste wat I had had for dir, thy were afraid to give it me. I reber oe hot evenig I wet into the bar of a publ-house, and said to th landlord: ‘What is your best—your very best—ale a glass?’ For it was a special occasion. I don’t kn what. It may have be my Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 226 birthday. ‘Twpence-halfpeny,’ says th landlord, ‘is th price of th Genui Stunning al’ ‘Th,’ says I, producing the mony, ‘just draw me a glass of th Genuie Stung, if you please, with a god head to it.’ The landlrd looked at m in return over the bar, from head to fot, wth a strange smile on hi face; and instead of drawing th ber, looked round th scre and said somethg to his wfe. She am out from bend it, with her work in her hand, and joind hm in surveying me. Here we stand, all thre, before me now Th landlord in his shirt-sleeve, leaning against th bar widoframe; his wife lookig over the little half-door; and I, i s nfusion, looking up at th fro outsde th partition. Thy asked me a god many quetis; as, wat my name was, ho old I was, where I lived, how I was employed, and how I cam there. To all of which, that I might coit nobody, I invented, I am afraid, appropriate aners They served me with the ale, though I suspect it was not th Genui Stunning; and th landlord’s wfe, opeg the little half-door of the bar, and bedig down, gave m my money back, and gave me a kiss that was half admring and half compassionate, but all woany and god, I am sure I know I do not exaggerate, unsciously and untentionaly, th scantis of my resources or th difficulties of my life. I know that if a shing were given me by Mr. Quinion at any time, I spent it in a dinr or a tea. I kn that I wrked, fro morng unti night, wth common men and boys, a shabby child. I know that I lunged about the streets, inuffictly and unsatisfactorily fed. I know that, but for the mercy of God, I might easy have be, for any care that was take of m, a little robber or a little vagabod. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 227 Yet I held some station at Murdsto and Grinby’s to Besides that Mr. Quinion did what a careless man so occupid, and dealing with a thing s anomalous, culd, to treat me as one upon a different footing from the rest, I nver said, to man or boy, how it was that I cam to be there, or gave the least indiatio of beg sorry that I was thre That I suffered in secret, and that I suffered exquisitey, no on ever kne but I. Ho much I suffered, it is, as I have said already, utterly beyond my power to tel But I kept my on counl, and I did my wrk. I kn fro th first, that, if I could not do my work as we as any of th rest, I could not hod myself above sight and contept. I soo beame at least as expeditious and as skiful as either of the other boys. Though perfectly famar with them, my cduct and manner were differet enough from theirs to place a space between us. They and the mn generaly spoke of me as ‘the little gent’, or ‘the young Suffolker.’ A certain man named Gregory, wh was foreman of the packers, and another namd Tipp, who was the carman, and wore a red jacket, usd to addres me sometimes as ‘David’: but I thk it was mostly wh we were very confidential, and when I had made so efforts to entertai them, over our wrk, wth some results of th old readings; which were fast perishing out of my remembran Mealy Potato upro oce, and rebelled agait my being so distiguished; but Mick Walker sttled him in no tim My rescue fro this kind of existece I considered quite pess, and abandoned, as such, altogethr. I am solemnly convinced that I never for on hour was reciled to it, or was thrwise than miserably unappy; but I bore it; and eve to Peggotty, partly for the love of her and partly for sam, never i Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 228 any letter (though many pasd betwee us) reveald the truth. Mr. Micawber’s difficulties were an additi to th distressed state of my mind. In my forlrn state I became quite attached to the famy, and used to walk about, busy with Mrs. Micawber’s calculations of ways and means, and heavy with th weight of Mr. Micawber’s debts. On a Saturday night, which was my grand treat,—partly beause it was a great thing to walk home with six or seven shings in my pocket, looking into th shops and thinking wat such a sum would buy, and partly becaus I wnt h arly,—Mrs. Micawber would make the mot heart-rendig confidences to me; also on a Sunday morng, w I mixed th portion of tea or coffe I had bought over-night, in a littl shavingpot, and sat late at my breakfast. It was nothing at all unusual for Mr. Micawber to sob violetly at the beging of one of thes Saturday night coversatio, and sig about jack’s delight beg his lovely Nan, toards th end of it. I have known hm come h to supper with a fld of tears, and a decaration that nthing was nw left but a jail; and go to bed makig a calulati f th expense of putting bo-wndows to th huse, ‘in case anythng turnd up’, which was his favourite expresion. And Mrs Micawber was just th same. A curius equality of friendship, originating, I suppos, in our respective circumstances, sprung up betw me and th people, notwithtanding th ludicrous disparity in our years. But I never allowd myself to be prevailed upo to accept any invitati to eat and drik with them out of their stock (knwing that they got on badly with the butcher and baker, and had often not too muc for themve), until Mrs. Micawber took m into her etire confidence. This she did on eveing as fos: Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 229 ‘Master Copperfield,’ said Mrs. Micawber, ‘I make no stranger of you, and therefore do not hesitate to say that Mr. Miawber’s difficulties are coming to a crisis.’ It made me very miserabl to hear it, and I looked at Mrs Miawber’s red eyes with the utmt sympathy. ‘With th exception of th he of a Dutc che—wich is not adapted to the wants of a young famy’—said Mrs. Micawber, ‘thre is really not a scrap of anythng in th larder. I was accustod to speak of th larder wh I lived wth papa and mama, and I us th wrd almost unnsciusly. What I mean to xpre is, that there is nothing to eat in the house’ ‘Dear me!’ I said, in great concern I had tw or thre shillings of my wk’s money i my pocket— fro which I preum that it must have be o a Wednday night w w hld this conversati—and I hastily producd them, and with heartfelt emotion begged Mrs. Miawber to acpt of th as a loan But that lady, kissing me, and making me put th back in my pocket, replied that she couldn’t think of it. ‘No, my dear Master Copperfield,’ said she, ‘far be it from my thughts! But you have a discretion beyond your years, and can render me anothr kind of service, if you wi; and a service I w thankfully accept of.’ I begged Mrs. Micawber to nam it. ‘I have parted with the plate mysef,’ said Mrs. Miawber. ‘Six tea, tw salt, and a pair of sugars, I have at different times borrod money on, in secret, with my own hands. But th twins are a great tie; and to me, with my rectio, of papa and mama, the tranacti are very paiful. There are sti a few trifles that we could part with. Mr. Micawber’s feings would Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 230 never allow him to dipo of them; and Ckett’—thi was the girl from the workhouse—‘beg of a vulgar mnd, would take paiful liberties if so much confidence was reposed in her. Master Cpperfield, if I might ask you—’ I understood Mrs. Miawber now, and begged her to make use f me to any extent. I began to dispose of th more portable artic of property that very eveg; and went out on a silar expedition alt every mornig, before I went to Murdstone and Grinby’s. Mr. Micawber had a fe boks o a littl chiffonier, wich h aled the lbrary; and those wet first. I carried th, one after another, to a bookstal i the City Road—o part of whic, nar our house, was alt al bookstal and bird shops then—and sd them for whatever they would brig. The keeper of th bokstall, wh lived in a littl house bend it, usd to get tipsy every night, and to be violetly scded by hi wfe every mrng. More than onc, when I wet there early, I had audi of hi i a turn-up bedstead, with a cut in his foread or a black eye, bearig witns to his excesses over-night (I am afraid h was quarrelsom in hi drik), and he, with a shaking hand, edeavouring to find th nedful shillings in on or othr of th pokets of his clothes, which lay upon the floor, while h wife, with a baby in her arm and her shoes down at heel, never lft off rating him. Sometimes he had lost hs money, and th h wuld ask me to cal again; but his wife had always got some—had taken is, I dare say, while he was drunk—and secretly completed th bargai on the stairs, as we went down together. At the pawnbroker’s shop, too, I began to be very well known. The principal gentleman wh officiated bend th counter, tok a Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 231 good deal of notic of m; and often got m, I rect, to de a Latin noun or adjective, or to conjugate a Latin verb, in his ear, wile he transacted my busss. After all th ocasi Mrs Micawber made a lttle treat, whic was genrally a supper; and thre was a peculiar relish in th meals wh I we remember. At last Mr. Micawber’s difficulties came to a crisis, and he was arreted early one morng, and carried over to the King’s Ben Pris i the Borough. He told me, as he went out of the house, that th God of day had now go dow upo him—and I really thought his heart was broke and m too. But I heard, afterwards, that he was se to play a lively game at skittl, before noon. On the first Sunday after he was take there, I was to go and se him, and have dinnr with him. I was to ask my way to such a place, and just short of that plac I should see suc another place, and just short of that I should see a yard, which I was to cros, and keep straight o unti I saw a turnkey. All this I did; and wh at last I did se a turnkey (poor little fellow that I was!), and thought h, wh Roderick Random was in a debtors’ pri, thre was a man there with nothing on him but an old rug, the turnkey sam before my dimmed eye and my beating heart. Mr. Micawber was waitig for me within the gate, and we went up to his room (top story but one), and crid very muc He solemnly conjured me, I remember, to take warning by his fate; and to observe that if a man had twty pounds a-year for hi income, and spent ninete pounds ninete shilings and sixpence, h would be happy, but that if he spent twty pounds he would be miserabl After which h borrod a shilling of m for porter, gave m a written order on Mrs. Micawber for the Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 232 amount, and put away his pocket-handkerchief, and chered up. We sat before a lttle fire, with two briks put within the rusted grate, on on each side, to prevet its burning to many coals; until another debtor, who shared the room with Mr. Micawber, came in fro th bakehuse with th loin of mutton which was ur joint-stok repast. Th I was sent up to ‘Captain Hopkins’ in the room overhead, with Mr. Micawber’s cplts, and I was is young friend, and would Captain Hopkins lend me a knife and fork. aptain Hopkis lent me th knife and fork, wth h mpliments to Mr. Micawber. Thre was a very dirty lady i h ttle room, and two wan girls, his daughters, with shock heads of hair. I thught it was better to borro Captain Hopkin’s knife and fork, than Captain Hopkis’s cob. Th Captain hif was i th last extreity of shabbiss, with large whiskers, and an old, old brown great-coat with no other coat bew it. I saw hi bed rolled up in a cornr; and what plate and dishe and pots he had, on a self; and I divind (God knows how) that though the tw girls wth th shok heads of hair were Captain Hopkins’s childre, th dirty lady was not marrid to Captain Hopkins. My timd stati o hi threshold was not occupid more than a couple of mnutes at most; but I came dow again with all this in my knowledge, as surely as th knife and fork were in my hand. There was sothg gipsy-lke and agreeable i the dier, after all. I tok back Captain Hopkis’s knife and fork early in th afternoon, and went home to cofort Mrs. Micawber with an account of my visit. She faited wh she saw m return, and made a lttle jug of egg-hot afterwards to coole us whil we talked it over. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 233 I do’t know how the household furniture cam to be sold for th family befit, or wh sold it, except that I did not. Sold it was, hver, and carrid away in a van; except th bed, a fe chairs, and th kitc tabl With th possessions we eamped, as it wre, in th tw parlurs of th eptied huse in Widsor Terrace; Mrs. Micawber, th childre, th Orflg, and myself; and lved i those rooms nght and day. I have n idea for how log, thugh it ses to me for a long time. At last Mrs Micawber resolved to move into th prison, wre Mr. Micawber had now ured a room to himf. So I took the key of the house to the landlrd, who was very glad to get it; and the beds were st over to th King’s Be, except mine, for which a littl ro was hred outside the wall in the neghbourhood of that Intitutio, very much to my satisfacti, si th Micawbers and I had beme too used to one another, in our troubl, to part. The Orfling was likew accomdated with an inexpensive lodging in th same nghbourhood. Mine was a quiet back-garret with a slopig roof, commanding a plasant prospect of a tiberyard; and wh I tok possession of it, with th reflti that Mr. Micawber’s troubl ad com to a crisis at last, I thught it quite a paradise l this time I was working at Murdsto and Griby’s in th same co way, and with th same co companions, and with the sam se of unrited degradati as at first. But I never, happily for me no doubt, made a single acquaintance, or spoke to any of the many boys whom I saw daiy in going to the wareuse, in coming fro it, and in proling about th strets at meal-times. I led th same secretly unappy life; but I led it in th same lonely, self-reiant manr. Th only changes I am conscious of are, firstly, that I had grown more shabby, and sendly, that I Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 234 was nw relieved of muc of the weight of Mr. and Mrs. Micawber’s cares; for some relatives or friends had egaged to help them at their pret pas, and they lved mre cfortably in th prison than thy had lived for a long while out of it. I usd to breakfast with them nw, i virtue of so arranget, of whic I have forgotten the detai I forget, too, at what hour the gates were oped in the morning, admtting of my going i; but I know that I was often up at six o’clock, and that my favourite loungingplace in the interval was old Lodon Bridge, where I was wot to sit in o of th sto recesses, watcng th people gog by, or to ook over the balustrade at the sun sg i the water, and lghting up the golde flame on the top of the Monumt. The Orflig met me here sotim, to be told s astonig fictions respectig th wharves and th Tor; of which I can say n mre than that I hope I beeved them mysf. In the evenig I used to go back to the pri, and walk up and down the parade th Mr. Micawber; or play casino with Mrs. Micawber, and har rem of her papa and mama. Whther Mr. Murdstone knew were I was, I am unabl to say. I never tod them at Murdsto and Grinby’s. Mr. Micawber’s affairs, althugh past thr crisis, wre very much involved by reas of a certain ‘Ded’, of wich I usd to ar a great deal, and which I suppose, now, to have bee some formr composition wth hs creditors, thugh I was so far fro beg car about it then, that I am coous of having confounded it with th demoniacal parcts wich are hld to have, onc upon a tim, obtaid to a great extent in Germany. At last this doumt appeared to be got out of the way, sohow; at al events it ceased to be the rok-ahead it had be; and Mrs Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 235 Micawber informd me that ‘her family’ had decided that Mr. Miawber should apply for his rease under the Insvent Debtors Act, which would set him fre, she expected, in about six weks. ‘And then,’ said Mr. Miawber, who was present, ‘I have n doubt I sall, plas Heave, begin to be beforehand with the wrld, and to live in a perfetly new manr, if—in short, if anythg turns up.’ By way of going in for anything that might be on the cards, I call to mid that Mr. Micawber, about this tim, cposed a petition to the House of Co, prayig for an alteration i the law of imprisonment for debt. I set dow this remembrance hre, becaus it is an instance to myself of th manr in which I fitted my old books to my altered life, and made stories for myself, out of th strets, and out of men and women; and ho some main poits in th character I shal unnsciusly develop, I suppose, i writig my life, were gradually formig all this whil Thre was a cub in th pri, in which Mr. Miawber, as a gentleman, was a great authrity. Mr. Micawber had stated hi dea of this petition to the club, and the club had strongly approved of the sam. Wherefore Mr. Miawber (who was a thoroughy good-natured man, and as active a creature about everythng but his own affairs as ever existed, and never so happy as when he was busy about sothing that could nver be of any profit to him) set to work at the petition, invented it, engrossd it o an immense shet of paper, spread it out on a tabl, and appoted a tim for all the club, and all within the wall if they cho, to come up to his ro and sign it. Whe I heard of this approaching ceremony, I was so anxius to ee them al c in, one after another, though I knew the greater Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 236 part of them already, and they me, that I got an hour’s leave of absence fro Murdsto and Griby’s, and etabld myself i a cornr for that purpo As many of th pricipal members of th ub as culd be got into the small room without fillg it, supported Mr. Micawber in front of the petition, whil my old fried Captai Hopki (who had wased himelf, to do honour to so solemn an occasion) stationed hif clos to it, to read it to al who were unacquaited with its cotets. The door was then thrown ope, and the genral population began to c i, in a long file: several waitig outside, w o etered, affixed h signature, and wnt out. To everybody in succession, Captain Hopkins said: ‘Have you read it?’—‘No.’—‘Would you like to hear it read?’ If he weakly shod th least disposition to har it, Captain Hopkis, in a loud sonorous voice, gave him every word of it. Th Captain wuld have read it twty thusand times, if twenty thousand peopl would have heard him, one by one I remember a certain luscious ro he gave to such phrases as ‘Th people’s repretatives in Parliament assebled,’ ‘Your petitioners therefore humbly approac your honourable house,’ ‘His gracious Majesty’s unfortunate subjets,’ as if th words were something real i his mouth, and delicious to taste; Mr. Micawber, manwhil, lteg with a little of an author’s vanity, and conteplatig (nt severely) th spikes on th opposite wall I walked to and fro daiy between Southwark and Blackfriars, and lounged about at meal-times in obscure strets, the stones of whic may, for anything I know, be worn at this t by my cdi feet, I woder how many of the peopl were wantig in the crowd that used to co filg before m in review agai, to the echo of Captai Hopki’s vo! When my Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 237 thoughts go back, now, to that slow agony of my youth, I wonder h much of th histories I invented for such people hangs like a mt of fany over we-rebered facts! When I tread the old ground, I do nt wonder that I se to se and pity, going on before me, an innocent romantic boy, making his imagiative rld out of such strange experices and sordid things! Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 238 Chapter 12 LIKING LIFE ON MY OWN ACCOUNT NO BETTER, I FORM A GREAT RESOLUTION I n due tim, Mr. Micawber’s petition was ripe for hearig; and that gentleman was ordered to be discharged under th Act, to my great joy. His creditors were not implacabl; and Mrs Miawber informed me that even the revegeful boot-maker had deared in ope court that he bore him no mal, but that when y was owing to him he lked to be paid. He said he thought it was human nature M r Micawber returned to the King’s Bench when his cas was ver, as some fe were to be settld, and some formalities bserved, before he could be actually released. Th club received hi with tranport, and held an harmo metig that eveg in is hour; while Mrs. Micawber and I had a lamb’s fry i private, surrounded by th sleeping family. ‘On such an occasi I wi give you, Master Copperfield,’ said Mrs. Micawber, ‘in a little more flip,’ for w had been havig some already, ‘th memory of my papa and mama.’ ‘Are they dead, ma’am?’ I iquired, after drikig the toast i a w-glass ‘My mama departed this life,’ said Mrs. Micawber, ‘before Mr. Micawber’s difficulties comced, or at least before thy beame presing. My papa lived to bai Mr. Micawber several times, and then expired, regretted by a numrous circe.’ Mrs. Micawber shook her head, and dropped a pious tear upo Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 239 the twin who happed to be in hand. I culd hardly hope for a mre favourabl opportunity of putting a queti in which I had a near interest, I said to Mrs Micawber: ‘May I ask, ma’am, wat you and Mr. Micawber inted to do, now that Mr. Micawber is out of his difficultis, and at liberty? Have you settled yet?’ ‘My family,’ said Mrs. Micawber, wh always said th tw words with an air, though I never could diover who cam under th denominati, ‘my famly are of opinion that Mr. Miawber should quit London, and exert his talents i th country. Mr. Micawber is a man of great talent, Master Copperfield.’ I said I was sure of that. ‘Of great talt,’ repeated Mrs. Micawber. ‘My family are of opi, that, with a lttle interest, sothing might be do for a man of his abity in the Custom House. The influene of my famy beg lal, it i their wis that Mr. Micawber should go down to Plymouth. They think it indipeable that he should be upo the spot.’ ‘That he may be ready?’ I suggested. ‘Exactly,’ returned Mrs. Miawber. ‘That he may be ready—in case of anythng turng up.’ ‘And do you go to, ma’am?’ The evets of the day, in cbiati with the twin, if not with th flip, had made Mrs Miawber hysterical, and she shed tears as she replied: ‘I nver will dert Mr. Micawber. Mr. Micawber may have concealed his difficulties fro me in th first instance, but h sangui teper may have led hm to expect that he would Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 240 overcome th. Th pearl neklace and bracelts wich I inherited fro mama, have be disposed of for les than half their value; and the set of coral, whic was the weddig gift of my papa, has bee actually thro away for nothing. But I never wi dert Mr. Micawber. No!’ crid Mrs. Micawber, mre affected than before, ‘I never wi do it! It’s of no use askig me!’ I felt quite unmfortabl—as if Mrs. Miawber supposed I had asked her to do anything of the srt!—and sat lookig at her i alarm. ‘Mr. Micawber has his faults I do not deny that h is improvident. I do not deny that he has kept me in th dark as to is resources and his liabiities both,’ she went on, lookig at th wal; ‘but I nver wil dert Mr. Micawber!’ Mrs. Micawber having now raised her voice into a perfet scream, I was so frighted that I ran off to th club-ro, and disturbed Mr. Micawber in th act of predig at a long tabl, and ladig the chorus of Gee up, Dobbi, Gee ho, Dobbi, Gee up, Dobbi, Gee up, and gee ho—o—o! —with th tidings that Mrs. Miawber was in an alarming state, upo which he immediatey burst into tears, and came away wth me wth his waitcat ful of th heads and tails of shrips, of wich he had be partaking. ‘Emma, my angel!’ cried Mr. Micawber, runing into th ro; ‘what is the matter?’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 241 ‘I never wi desert you, Micawber!’ she exclaimed. ‘My life!’ said Mr. Micawber, taking her in his arms. ‘I am perfetly aware of it.’ ‘He is th parent of my chidre! He is th fathr of my twins! He is th husband of my affections,’ cried Mrs. Miawber, struggling; ‘and I ne—ver—will—desert Mr. Micawber!’ Mr. Micawber was so deeply affected by this prof of hr devotion (as to me, I was diolved i tears), that he hung over her in a passionate manner, implring her to look up, and to be cal But the more he asked Mrs. Micawber to look up, the more sh fixed her eyes on nthing; and the more he asked her to cpose herself, the mre she wouldn’t. Consequently Mr. Miawber was oon so overco, that he migld his tears with hers and m; until he begged me to do him the favour of takig a chair on the staircase, whil he got her into bed. I would have take my leave for the night, but he would not hear of my dog that until the strangers’ be should ring. So I sat at th staircase wido, unti he cam out with another chair and joined me ‘Ho is Mrs. Miawber now, sir?’ I said. ‘Very low,’ said Mr. Miawber, shaking his head; ‘reaction Ah, th has been a dreadful day! We stand ale n—everythig is gone from us!’ Mr. Micawber pred my hand, and groaned, and afterwards sd tears I was greatly touched, and diappoted too, for I had expected that we should be quite gay on this happy and longlooked-for occasn. But Mr. and Mrs. Micawber were s used to thr od difficulties, I thk, that thy felt quite shipwrecked wh they cam to coder that they were relasd from them A their easticity was departed, and I never saw th half so wretched as Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 242 on this night; inuc that when the be rang, and Mr. Miawber walked with me to the lodge, and parted from m there with a blg, I felt quite afraid to leave him by himf, he was so profoundly miserabl But through all th confusion and low of spirits in which w had be, so unxpectedly to me, involved, I plaiy discerned that Mr. and Mrs. Miawber and their famy were going away fro London, and that a parting betw us was near at hand. It was in my walk home that night, and i the spl hours whic follwed when I lay i bed, that the thought first occurred to m— though I do’t know how it cam into my head—w afterwards shaped itself into a settld resoluti I had gron to be so accustod to th Micawbers, and had be so itiate wth th in thr distresses, and was so utterly friendless withut th, that th prospect of being thro upo some new shift for a lodging, and going oce more among unknown peopl, was like beg that mot turned adrift into my pret life, with such a knledge of it ready made as experice had given me. All th sensitive fegs it wounded so cruelly, al th shame and misery it kept alive within my breast, became more poignant as I thught of this; and I determd that the life was unendurable. That thre was no hope of eape fro it, unless th ecape was my own act, I kn quite we I rarely hard fro Miss Murdstone, and nver from Mr. Murdstone: but two or three parcels of made or mnded clothes had c up for m, cognd to Mr. Quinion, and in each thre was a scrap of paper to th effect that J. M. trusted D. C. was applying hif to bus, and devoting himf wholly to his duties—not the least hit of my ever Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 243 beg anythng el than th co drudge ito wich I was fast sttlig do Th very next day shod me, while my mid was in th first agitation of what it had conceived, that Mrs. Micawber had not spoke of their going away without warrant. They took a lodgig i the house where I lived, for a week; at the expirati of w tim they were to start for Plymouth. Mr. Micawber himf cam down to the counting-house, in the afternoon, to tell Mr. Qui that he must relinquish me on th day of his departure, and to give me a hgh character, which I am sure I deserved. And Mr. Quinion, calling in Tipp th carman, wh was a marrid man, and had a room to let, quartered me prospetively on him—by our mutual cot, as he had every reason to think; for I said nthing, though my resution was now take I pasd my evegs with Mr. and Mrs. Micawber, during the remaig term of our resde under the sam roof; and I think we beam fonder of one another as the tim went on. On the last Sunday, thy invited me to dinner; and we had a loin of pork and apple sauce, and a puddig. I had bought a spotted woode horse over-night as a parting gift to little Wilki Micawber—that was th boy—and a doll for littl Ema. I had also bestod a shing on the Orflig, who was about to be dibanded. We had a very plasant day, thugh we were al in a teder state about our approachig separati ‘I shall never, Master Copperfield,’ said Mrs Micawber, ‘revert to th perid wh Mr. Micawber was in difficulties, wthut thinking of you. Your conduct has alays be of th most delicate and obliging description. You have never bee a lodger. You have been a frid.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 244 ‘My dear,’ said Mr. Micawber; ‘Copperfield,’ for so he had be accustod to call me, of late, ‘has a hart to fe for th distresse f his fellow-creatures w thy are bed a cloud, and a head to plan, and a hand to—i short, a genral abity to dipose of such availabl property as could be made away with’ I expressed my sense of this comdati, and said I was very srry we were going to lo one another. ‘My dear young friend,’ said Mr. Micawber, ‘I am oder than you; a man of some experice i life, and—and of some experice, in short, in difficulties, gerally speaking. At pret, and until sothing turns up (whic I am, I may say, hourly expecting), I have nothing to besto but advice. Still my advice i far worth takig, that—i short, that I have never take it mysf, and am the’—here Mr. Miawber, who had been beamg and smiling, all over his head and face, up to th pret moment, cecked himf and frowned—‘the mirabl wretch you behold.’ ‘My dear Micawber!’ urged his wife ‘I say,’ returned Mr. Micawber, quite forgetting himf, and smilg again, ‘th miserabl wretch you bed. My advice is, never do tomorro what you can do today. Prorastination is th thief of tim Coar him!’ ‘My poor papa’s maxim,’ Mrs. Micawber observed. ‘My dear,’ said Mr. Micawber, ‘your papa was very we in hi ay, and Heave forbid that I should disparage him. Take him for all i all, w ne’er shall—i short, make th acquaintance, probably, of anybody el pog, at his tim of life, the sam legs for gaiters, and able to read th same description of prit, wthut spectacles But he applied that maxi to our marriage, my dear; and that was so far preaturey entered into, in Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 245 cequence, that I nver revered the expee.’ Mr. Miawber looked aside at Mrs Micawber, and added: ‘Not that I am sorry for it. Quite th contrary, my love.’ After which, he was grave for a minute or so. ‘My othr piece of advice, Copperfield,’ said Mr. Miawber, ‘you know. Annual inme twty pounds, annual expediture ninete ninete and six, result happis. Annual income twenty pounds, anual expediture twenty pounds ought and sx, reult miry. The bloss is blghted, the leaf is withered, the god of day go do upon the dreary scene, and—and in short you are for ever floored. As I am!’ To make his example the more impresve, Mr. Miawber drank a glass of punh with an air of great enjoymet and satisfaction, and whistled th College Hornpipe. I did not fai to assure him that I would store thes prepts i my mind, thugh indeed I had no need to do so, for, at th time, they affected me visbly. Next morning I mt the whole famy at the cach offic, and saw them, with a delate heart, take their plac outsde, at the back. ‘Master Copperfield,’ said Mrs. Micawber, ‘God bls you! I never can forget all that, you kn, and I never would if I could.’ ‘Copperfid,’ said Mr. Miawber, ‘farewell! Every happi and prosperity! If, i th progress of revolving years, I could persuade myself that my blighted destiny had be a warning to you, I should feel that I had nt occupied another man’s plac in xistece altogethr in vain. In case of anythng turning up (of wich I am rathr confidet), I shall be extrey happy if it should be in my powr to improve your prospects.’ I think, as Mrs. Micawber sat at the back of the coach, with the Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 246 childre, and I stod in th road lookig wistfuly at th, a mist ceared from her eyes, and se saw what a little creature I realy was. I thk so, beaus she beckond to me to clib up, with quite a new and mothrly expression in her fac, and put hr arm round my neck, and gave me just such a kiss as s mght have given to her own boy. I had barely tim to get down agai before th coach started, and I could hardly see th family for th handkerchifs they waved. It was gone in a miute. The Orflg and I stood lookig vacantly at eac other in the mddl of the road, and then shook hands and said good-bye; she going back, I suppose, to St. Luke’s workhuse, as I wet to begi my weary day at Murdsto and Grinby’s. But with n intentin of pasg many mre weary days there No. I had resolved to run away.—To go, by some means or othr, down into the country, to the only relation I had i the world, and tel my story to my aunt, Mis Betsey. I have already observed that I don’t know ho this desperate idea came into my brain. But, onc there, it reaid there; and hardeed into a purpose than whic I have never entertaid a more determid purpose in my lfe. I am far from sure that I beeved there was anythig hopeful in it, but my mid was throughly made up that it must be carrid ito executi Again, and again, and a hundred times again, since th night when the thought had first occurred to me and banid sp, I had gone over that old story of my poor mother’s about my birth, whic it had be o of my great deghts in the old tim to hear hr te, and wh I kn by heart. My aunt walked into that story, and walked out of it, a dread and awful persage; but thre was one lttle trait i her behaviour whic I liked to dwell on, and Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 247 wich gave me some fait shado of enuraget. I could not forget how my mother had thought that she felt her touch her pretty hair with no ungentl hand; and though it might have be altogether my mother’s fany, and mght have had no foundation watever in fact, I made a littl picture, out of it, of my terribl aunt reltig towards the girli beauty that I rected s wel and loved so much, which softed th wh narrative. It is very possibl that it had be in my mid a long time, and had gradualy engedered my determati As I did not eve know whre Miss Betsy lived, I wrote a long ltter to Peggotty, and asked her, indetally, if s rembered; preteding that I had hard of such a lady living at a certain place I named at random, and had a curisity to know if it were th am In the curse of that ltter, I told Peggotty that I had a particular ocasion for half a guina; and that if she could lend me that sum until I could repay it, I should be very much obliged to r, and would te her afterwards what I had wanted it for. Peggotty’s answer soo arrived, and was, as usual, full of affectionate devoti. She end th half guina (I was afraid se must have had a world of trouble to get it out of Mr. Barki’s box), and told me that Mis Betsey lived nar Dover, but whether at Dover itself, at Hyth, Sandgate, or Foketo, she could not say. One of our me, however, informig me on my askig him about thes plac, that they were al cose together, I ded this ough for my object, and resved to set out at the end of that week. Beig a very honet little creature, and unwilg to digrac the mery I was going to leave bend m at Murdstone and Grinby’s, I considered myself bound to remain until Saturday Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 248 nght; and, as I had been paid a week’s wage i advane wen I first cam there, not to pret mysf i the cunting-house at the usual hour, to receive my stiped. For this expres reason, I had borrowed the half-guina, that I mght not be without a fund for my traveg-expe Acrdigly, when the Saturday night came, and we were all waiting in th wareuse to be paid, and Tipp th carman, wh always tok predece, went in first to draw his my, I shook Mick Walker by the hand; asked him, w it came to his turn to be paid, to say to Mr. Quinion that I had go to move my box to Tipp’s; and, bidding a last god night to Mealy Potatoes, ran away. My box was at my old lodgig, over th water, and I had writte a directi for it on the back of one of our addres cards that we naild on th casks: ‘Master David, to be left till called for, at th ach Office, Dover.’ This I had in my pocket ready to put o th box, after I should have got it out of the house; and as I went toards my lodgig, I looked about me for someo wh would help me to carry it to the bookig-offic There was a log-legged young man with a very little epty donkey-cart, standing near th Obelisk, in th Blackfriars Road, whose eye I caught as I was going by, and who, addresg m as ‘Sixpe’orth of bad ha’pe,’ hoped ‘I should know him agi to sar to’—i alus, I have no doubt, to my starig at hi I stopped to assure hm that I had not done so in bad manrs, but uncrtai whether he might or might not like a job. ‘Wot job?’ said the log-legged young man ‘To move a box,’ I answered. ‘Wot box?’ said the log-legged young man I told hi mine, which was dow that stret thre, and wich I Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 249 wanted him to take to the Dover coach offic for sixpe ‘Done with you for a tanner!’ said the log-legged young man, and directly got upo his cart, which was nothing but a large de tray o ws, and rattld away at such a rate, that it was as much as I could do to keep pace with the donkey. There was a defiant manr about this young man, and particularly about th way in wich he ched straw as he spoke to me, that I did not much like; as th bargain was made, hover, I took him upstairs to the room I was leavig, and we brought the box dow, and put it on his cart. Now, I was uning to put th direction-card o thre, lest any of my landlord’s family should fathom what I was dog, and detain me; s I said to the young man that I would be glad if he wuld stop for a mnute, w h am to the dead-wal of the Kig’s Benh prion. The words were n sooner out of my mouth, than he rattled away as if he, my box, the cart, and the dokey, wre al equaly mad; and I was quite out of breath with running and calling after h, w I caught hm at th place appointed. Being much flusd and excted, I tumbled my half-guia out of my pocket in pulling th card out. I put it in my mouth for safety, and though my hands trembled a good deal, had just tied th card on very much to my satisfacti, wh I felt myself violetly chucked under the ch by the log-legged young man, and saw my half-guina fly out of my mouth into his hand. ‘Wot!’ said th young man, seizing me by my jacket coar, with a frightful grin. ‘This is a pol case, is it? You’re a-going to bolt, are you? C to the po, you young warmi, co to the pollis!’ ‘You give me my money back, if you please,’ said I, very much Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 250 frightened; ‘and lave m alone.’ ‘Co to th pollis!’ said th young man. ‘You shall prove it yourn to th pollis.’ ‘Give me my box and money, wi you,’ I cried, bursting into tears Th young man still replied: ‘C to th polis!’ and was dragging me againt the dokey in a violet manner, as if there re any affinity betw that animal and a magistrate, w h changed his mind, jumped into th cart, sat upo my box, and, excaimg that he would drive to the po straight, rattled away harder than ever. I ran after him as fast as I could, but I had n breath to call out with, and should nt have dared to cal out, now, if I had. I narrowly eaped beg run over, twenty tim at last, in half a mile. Now I lost him, now I saw him, now I lost him, now I was cut at with a whip, nw shouted at, now down in the mud, now up again, now rung into somebody’s arms, now running headlong at a post. At length, confusd by fright and hat, and doubting whether half London might not by this tim be turning out for my apprehens, I left the young man to go where he would with my box and money; and, pantig and crying, but never stopping, faced about for Grech, wich I had understod was on th Dover Road: takig very little mre out of the world, towards the retreat of my aunt, Mis Betsey, than I had brought into it, on the nght when my arrival gave her so muc umbrage Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 251 Chapter 13 THE SEQUEL OF MY RESOLUTION F or anything I know, I may have had so wild idea of running all th way to Dover, wh I gave up th pursuit of the young man with the donkey-cart, and started for Greich. My scattered senses were soo colted as to that point, if I had; for I came to a stop in th Kent Road, at a terrace wth a piece of water before it, and a great foish image in th middle, bling a dry shel. Here I sat dow on a doorstep, quite spent and exhausted with th efforts I had already made, and wth hardly breath enough to cry for the lo of my box and half-guina. It was by this tim dark; I heard the clocks strike ten, as I sat resting. But it was a sumr night, fortunatey, and fi weathr. Whe I had revered my breath, and had got rid of a stifling sensation in my throat, I ro up and went on. In th mdst of my ditress, I had no ntion of going back. I doubt if I should have had any, thugh thre had be a Swiss snow-drift in th Kent Road. But my standing possesd of only thre-halfpen in th wrld (and I am sure I wonder how they came to be left in my pocket o a Saturday night!) troubld m no the le beause I went on. I began to picture to myself, as a srap of newpaper iteigece, my beig found dead in a day or tw, under some hdge; and I trudged on mirably, though as fast as I culd, until I happed to pas a little shop, where it was written up that ladi’ and gentlemen’s wardrobes wre bought, and that th best price was given for rags, bo, and kitchen-stuff. The master of this shop Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 252 was sitting at th door in his shirt-sleeve, smokig; and as thre re a great many coats and pairs of trousers dangling fro th low ceiling, and only tw feble candles burng iside to sho at thy were, I fancied that h looked like a man of a revengeful disposition, w had hung all his enies, and was enjoying hielf. My late experie with Mr. and Mrs. Micawber suggested to m that here might be a mean of kepig off the wolf for a little e. I wet up the nxt by-street, took off my waitcat, roed it neatly under my arm, and came back to th shop door. ‘If you please, sir,’ I said, ‘I am to sell this for a fair price.’ Mr. Dollby—Dolloby was the nam over the shop door, at last—took the waitcoat, stood his pipe on its head, agait the door-post, went into the shop, followed by m, snuffed the two candles with his fingers, spread th waistcat on th counter, and looked at it there, held it up against the lght, and looked at it there, and ultimately said: ‘What do you call a price, now, for this here littl wekit?’ ‘Oh! you kn best, sir,’ I returned modestly. ‘I can’t be buyer and ser to,’ said Mr. Doby. ‘Put a price o this here littl weskit.’ ‘Would eightepence be?’—I hinted, after some hesitation. Mr. Doby rod it up agai, and gave it me back. ‘I shuld rob my famy,’ he said, ‘if I was to offer nipence for it.’ This was a disagreabl way of putting th busine; becaus it imposed upo me, a perfet stranger, th unplasantne of asking Mr. Dolloby to rob hi famly on my account. My circumstances beg so very pressing, hover, I said I would take ninepence for it, if he plasd. Mr. Dooby, nt without s grumblg, gave Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 253 nnepence. I wised him good night, and walked out of the shop the ricr by that sum, and the poorer by a waitcoat. But when I buttoned my jacket, that was not muc Inded, I foresaw pretty carly that my jacket would go next, and that I should have to make th best of my way to Dover in a shirt and a pair of trousers, and mght de mysf lucky if I got there eve in that trim But my mind did not run so much on this as might be suppod. Beyond a geral impression of th distance before me, and of th young man with the dokey-cart having used me cruelly, I think I had no very urgent sen of my difficulties wh I once again set off with my ninepence in my pocket. plan had occurred to me for pasg the nght, whic I was going to carry into exeutio This was, to li bed the wall at the back of my old shool, in a crner where there used to be a haystack. I imagid it would be a kind of company to have th boys, and the bedroom where I used to te the stori, s near me: although the boys would know nothing of my beg there, and the bedro would yid me no sheter. I had had a hard day’s wrk, and was pretty well jaded wh I came climbing out, at last, upo th level of Blackheath. It cost me s troubl to find out Sal House; but I found it, and I found a haystack in th cornr, and I lay dow by it; having first walked round th wal, and looked up at th wndows, and se that al as dark and silent with Never shall I forget th lonely sati of first lyig down, without a roof above my head! Sleep came upo me as it came o many othr outcasts, against whom house-doors were loked, and house-dogs barked, that nght—and I dreamd of lyig on my old shool-bed, talkig to the boys in my room; and found mysf sitting upright, with Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 254 Sterforth’s name upo my lips, lookig wildly at th stars that wre glisteg and glimmering above me. Whe I remembered were I was at that untiy hour, a feelig stole upon m that made me get up, afraid of I don’t kn what, and walk about. But the faiter gliring of the stars, and the pal light i the sky wre th day was coming, reassured me: and my eye being very havy, I lay dow again and slpt—thugh with a knowledge in my sleep that it was cold—until th warm beams of th sun, and th ringig of the getting-up be at Sal House, awoke me If I could have hoped that Steerforth was there, I would have lurked about until he cam out ale; but I knew he must have left lg snce. Traddles still remaind, perhaps, but it was very doubtful; and I had not suffict cofide in his diretion or good luck, however strong my relian was on his good nature, to wis to trust hi with my stuation. So I crept away from the wall as Mr. Creakl’s boys were getting up, and struck into the log dusty track whic I had first known to be the Dover Road when I was one of them, and w I little expeted that any eyes would ever see me the wayfarer I was no, upo it. What a different Sunday morning fro th old Sunday morng at Yarmouth! In due tim I heard the church-be ringig, as I plodded on; and I met people wh were going to church; and I passed a church or tw whre th congregati were inside, and th sound of singig came out into th sunshi, while th beadle sat and cooled himf in the shade of the porch, or stood beneath the yew-tree, with hi hand to his forehead, glowerig at me going by. But th peace and rest of th od Sunday morning wre o everythig, except m. That was the differee. I felt quite wiked in my dirt and dust, wth my tangled hair. But for th quiet picture Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 255 I had cjured up, of my mother in her youth and beauty, weepig by th fire, and my aunt relenting to her, I hardly thk I should have had the curage to go on until next day. But it always went before me, and I fod. I got, that Sunday, through three-and-twenty m o the straight road, though not very easy, for I was new to that kind of to. I see mysf, as evenig cl in, cg over the bridge at Roter, footsore and tired, and eating bread that I had bought for supper. One or two little house, with the ntic, ‘Lodgings for Travers’, hangig out, had tempted me; but I was afraid of spedig the few pee I had, and was even mre afraid of th vicious looks of th trampers I had met or overtaken. I sought no ster, therefore, but the sky; and toilg into Chatham,—w, in that night’s aspect, is a mere dream of chalk, and drawbridges, and mastles ships i a muddy river, rofed like Noah’s arks,— crept, at last, upo a sort of gras-grown battery overhangig a lane, whre a sentry was walkig to and fro Here I lay dow, near a can; and, happy i th society of th sentry’s fotsteps, though he knew no more of my beg above hi than the boys at Salem Hous had know of my lyig by th wal, spt soundly until mornig. Very stiff and sore of fot I was in th morng, and quite dazed by the beatig of drums and marchig of troops, whic sed to hem m i on every side when I wet do toards the log narrow street. Feg that I could go but a very little way that day, if I were to resrve any strength for getting to my journey’s end, I resolved to make th sale of my jacket its pricipal busines. Ardigly, I took the jacket off, that I mght learn to do without it; and carrying it under my arm, began a tour of inspeti of th Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 256 various slop-shops It was a likely place to sel a jacket in; for th dealers in sendhand cloths were numerous, and were, gerally speaking, o th ook-out for customers at their shop doors. But as mot of them had, hangig up among their stock, an officr’s cat or two, epaulettes and all, I was rendered timid by th costly nature of their dealgs, and walked about for a log tim without offering my mercandis to anyo This mdety of m directed my attentin to the marin-store shops, and such shops as Mr. Doby’s, in preferece to th regular dealers At last I found one that I thought looked proising, at th cornr of a dirty lane, ending in an enclosure ful f stinging-nttl, against th palings of which some second-hand saiors’ cothes, that seemed to have overflowed the shop, were fluttering amg s cts, and rusty guns, and oilki hats, and certain trays full of so many od rusty keys of so many sizes that they seemed various enough to open al the doors in the world. Into this shop, which was low and small, and which was darked rather than lighted by a lttle window, overhung with cloths, and was descended ito by some steps, I went with a palpitatig hart; wich was not relieved wh an ugly old man, wth th lowr part of his face all covered with a stubbly grey beard, rushed out of a dirty den behd it, and sezed me by th hair of my head. He was a dreadful old man to lok at, in a filthy flann waitcoat, and smling terribly of rum. His bedstead, cvered with a tumbld and ragged pi of patchwork, was i the de he had co from, where another little window showed a prospect of more stiging-nttl, and a lame donkey. ‘Oh, what do you want?’ grid th old man, in a firc, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 257 monotonous wh ‘Oh, my eye and limbs, what do you want? Oh, my lungs and liver, what do you want? Oh, goro, goro!’ I was so much dismayed by th words, and particularly by th repetiti of th last unknn on, which was a kind of rattl in hi throat, that I could make no aner; hereupon the old man, still hoding me by th hair, repeated: ‘Oh, what do you want? Oh, my eye and limbs, what do you want? Oh, my lungs and liver, what do you want? Oh, goro!’— whic he srewed out of himf, with an energy that made his ye start in his head. ‘I wanted to kn,’ I said, tremblg, ‘if you would buy a jacket.’ ‘Oh, let’s see the jacket!’ crid the old man ‘Oh, my heart on fire, show the jacket to us! Oh, my eyes and lbs, brig the jacket out!’ With that he took his tremblig hands, which were lke the claws of a great bird, out of my hair; and put on a pair of spectacles, not at all ornamental to his inflamed eye ‘Oh, ho much for th jacket?’ cried th old man, after examg it. ‘Oh—goroo!—how muc for the jacket?’ ‘Half-a-cro,’ I answered, reverig myself. ‘Oh, my lungs and liver,’ cried th old man, ‘n! Oh, my eye, no! Oh, my limbs, no! Eightepen Goro!’ Every ti he uttered th ejaculati, his eyes seed to be i danger of startig out; and every setenc he spoke, he devered in a sort of tune, alays exactly th same, and more lke a gust of wnd, which begins low, mounts up high, and fals again, than any othr comparison I can fid for it. ‘We,’ said I, glad to have closed the bargain, ‘I’l take eighteenpee.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 258 ‘Oh, my liver!’ cried th old man, throng th jacket on a shef. ‘Get out of the shop! Oh, my lungs, get out of the shop! Oh, my eye and libs—goro!—do’t ask for money; make it an exchange.’ I never was so frightened in my life, before or sine; but I told hi humbly that I wanted money, and that nothing e was f any us to me, but that I would wait for it, as he desred, outside, and had no wish to hurry him. So I went outside, and sat do in the shade in a crner. And I sat there so many hours, that th shade became sunlight, and th sunight became shade again, and still I sat thre waitig for th money. Thre never was such anthr drunken madman in that li of bus, I hope. That he was well known i the nghbourhood, and enjoyed the reputation of having sod hif to the devil, I soo understod fro th visits he received fro th boys, wh ntinualy came skirmishig about th shop, shouting that lgend, and calg to him to brig out his gold. ‘You ain’t poor, you know, Charly, as you pretend. Bring out your gold. Bring out s of the gold you sold yoursef to the devil for. C! It’s i the lg of the mattres, Charly. Rip it open and lt’s have so!’ This, and many offers to lend him a knife for th purpo, exasperated him to suc a degree, that the whole day was a succession of rushe on his part, and flights on th part of th boys. Sometimes in his rage he would take me for on of th, and come at me, mouthng as if he were going to tear me i pieces; th, remembering me, just i time, wuld dive ito th shop, and lie upo his bed, as I thught fro th sound of his voice, yelling i a frantic way, to his own windy tune, the ‘Death of Neon’; with an Oh! before every li, and iumrable Goroos interspersed. if this were not bad enough for me, the boys, ctig me Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 259 with the establhmet, on acunt of the patie and persverance wth wich I sat outsde, half-dressed, pelted me, and usd me very ill all day. He made many attempts to induc m to cnset to an excange; at one tim cog out with a fisg-rod, at another wth a fiddle, at anthr wth a cocked hat, at anothr with a flute But I resisted al th overtures, and sat thre in desperation; each time asking him, with tears in my eye, for my money or my jacket. At last h began to pay me in halfpence at a time; and was full two hours getting by easy stage to a shg. ‘Oh, my eyes and limbs!’ he then crid, peepig hideousy out of the shop, after a log pause, ‘w you go for twope more?’ ‘I can’t,’ I said; ‘I shal be starved.’ ‘Oh, my lungs and liver, wi you go for threpece?’ ‘I would go for nothing, if I could,’ I said, ‘but I want th money badly.’ ‘Oh, go-ro!’ (it is really imposble to express h h twisted this ejaculati out of himelf, as he peeped round the door-post at m, showing nthing but his crafty old head); ‘w you go for fourpee?’ I was so fait and weary that I closed with this offer; and takig the moy out of his claw, not without tremblg, went away mre hungry and thrsty than I had ever been, a lttle before sunet. But at an expee of threepenc I soon refreshed mysf copltey; and, being in better spirits th, limped seve miles upo my road. My bed at nght was under another haystack, where I rested cfortably, after havig wased my bltered feet in a stream, and dred th as we as I was able, with some co leave Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 260 Wh I took the road again nxt mrning, I found that it lay through a succession of hop-grounds and orchards. It was sufficiently late in th year for th orchards to be ruddy wth ripe appl; and i a fe places th hop-pikers were already at work. I thought it al extremy beautiful, and made up my mnd to slp among the hops that nght: imagig s crful companionship i th long perspective of poles, with th graceful ave twing round them Th trampers were wors than ever that day, and inspired me wth a dread that is yet quite fre in my mind. Some of th wre most ferocious-lkig ruffians, wh stared at me as I went by; and stopped, perhaps, and cald after me to come back and speak to th, and wh I tok to my hes, stod me. I rellect o young fellow—a tinker, I suppose, fro hi walt and brazier— who had a woman with him, and who facd about and stared at m thus; and then roared to me in suc a tremdous voic to c back, that I halted and looked round. ‘Come here, when you’re cald,’ said the tiker, ‘or I’ll rip your young body open.’ I thought it bet to go back. A I dre nearer to them, trying to propitiate the tinker by my looks, I obsrved that the woman had a black eye. ‘Where are you going?’ said the tinker, grippig the bo of my shirt with his blackend hand. ‘I am gog to Dover,’ I said. ‘Where do you co from?’ asked the tinker, giving his hand anothr turn in my shirt, to hod me more securely. ‘I come fro Lodo,’ I said. ‘What lay are you upon?’ asked the tinker. ‘Are you a prig?’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 261 ‘N-n,’ I said. ‘A’t you, by G—? If you make a brag of your honety to me,’ said the tiker, ‘I’ll knk your brai out.’ With his disengaged hand he made a menace of striking me, and then loked at me from head to foot. ‘Have you got the pri of a pit of ber about you?’ said the tiker. ‘If you have, out with it, afore I take it away!’ I should crtainly have produced it, but that I met the woman’s ook, and saw her very slghtly shake her head, and form ‘No!’ with hr lips. ‘I am very poor,’ I said, attempting to s, ‘and have got n money.’ ‘Why, wat do you mean?’ said th tiker, looking so sterny at me, that I almost feared he saw th money in my pocket. ‘Sir!’ I stammered. ‘What do you mean,’ said the tinker, ‘by wearig my brother’s k handkerchief! Give it over here!’ And he had mi off my nek in a moment, and tossed it to th woman. The woman burst into a fit of laughter, as if sh thought this a joke, and tossed it back to me, nodded oce, as slightly as before, and made the word ‘Go!’ with her lips. Before I could obey, however, the tiker sezed the handkercef out of my hand with a roughs that thre me away like a feathr, and putting it looy round his own nk, turned upon the woman with an oath, and knocked her do I nver shal forget seg her fall backward on the hard road, and li there with her bot tumbld off, and her hair al whtened in the dust; nr, when I looked back from a distance, seng her sitting on th pathay, which was a bank by the roadsde, wipig the blood from her fac with a corner of her Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 262 shawl, while he went on ahead. This adventure frighted me so, that, afterwards, w I saw any of th people coming, I turnd back until I could find a hidig-plac, where I remaid until they had gone out of sight; wich happened so often, that I was very seriusly delayed. But under this difficulty, as under all th othr difficulties of my journey, I seed to be sustained and led o by my fanciful picture of my mothr in her youth, before I came into th wrld. It always kept me company. It was thre, amg th hops, w I lay dow to sleep; it was with me on my waking in th morning; it wnt before me all day. I have assocated it, ever since, wth th sunny stret of Canterbury, dozing as it were in th hot light; and with the sight of its old house and gateways, and the statey, grey Cathedral, with the rooks saig round the towers. Wh I cam, at last, upo th bare, wde dows near Dover, it relieved th tary aspet of the sc with hope; and not until I reached that first great ai of my journey, and actualy set foot i the town itself, on th sixth day of my flight, did it desert me. But th, strange to say, w I stod with my ragged sho, and my dusty, sunburnt, half-clothd figure, in th place so long desired, it seemed to van lke a dream, and to leave me helpl and dispirited. I iquired about my aunt among the boatm first, and received varius answers. On said she lived in th South Foreland Light, and had singed hr wiskers by doig so; anothr, that sh was made fast to the great buoy outside the harbour, and could only be visited at half-tide; a third, that she was locked up in Maidsto jai for chid-stealing; a fourth, that she was se to unt a broom in the last high wind, and make direct for Calai Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 263 Th fly-drivers, among w I inquired next, were equaly jo and equaly direspetful; and the shopkeepers, nt lkig my appearance, geraly replied, withut hearing what I had to say, that they had got nothing for me I felt mre mirable and destitute than I had done at any perid of my rung away. My money was all go, I had nothing left to dispo of; I was hungry, thirsty, and worn out; and sed as distant fro my end as if I had remaied in London. Th morning had worn away in th inquiries, and I was ttig on the step of an empty shop at a street corner, near th arket-plac, deliberating upo wanderig towards those other plac which had be mentioned, wh a fly-driver, coming by with his carriage, dropped a horseoth. Sothing good-natured in th man’s face, as I handed it up, enuraged me to ask him if he could tell m where Mis Trotwood lived; though I had asked the question so often, that it almt did upon my lips ‘Trotwood,’ said he. ‘Let me see. I know the nam, too. Old lady?’ ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘rathr.’ ‘Pretty stiff in the back?’ said he, makig hielf upright. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I should thk it very likey.’ ‘Carries a bag?’ said he—‘bag with a good deal of room in it—i gruffish, and comes dow upo you, sharp?’ My heart sank within me as I acknowledged the undoubted accuracy of this desription. ‘Why then, I te you what,’ said he. ‘If you go up there,’ poitig wth his whip toards th heights, ‘and keep right o till you come to some huses facing th sea, I thk you’l hear of her. My opinion is she won’t stand anythng, so here’s a penny for you.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 264 I accepted th gift thankfully, and bought a loaf wth it. Dispatcng this refret by th way, I went in th direction my friend had indicated, and walked on a god distance withut coming to th huses h had mentiond. At length I saw some before m; and approacg them, went into a lttle shop (it was at we usd to call a geral shop, at ho), and inquired if thy culd have the goodn to tell me where Mis Trotwood lved. I addred myself to a man bend th counter, w was wighng s ric for a young woman; but the latter, takig the inquiry to hersef, turned round quickly. ‘My mistress?’ she said. ‘What do you want with her, boy?’ ‘I want,’ I replied, ‘to speak to her, if you please.’ ‘To beg of her, you mean,’ retorted the damsel ‘No,’ I said, ‘indeed.’ But suddeny rememberig that in truth I came for no othr purpo, I hed my peace in confusion, and felt my face burn My aunt’s handmaid, as I supposed she was fro wat she had said, put her ric i a little basket and walked out of the shop; telling me that I could follow her, if I wanted to kn whre Miss Trotwd lived. I neded no second permission; thugh I was by this time in such a state of consternation and agitation, that my lgs shook under m I followed the young woman, and we soon cam to a very neat little cottage with chrful bow-windows: in front of it, a smal square gravelld court or garden ful of flowers, carefully tended, and smelling deliciously. ‘This is Miss Trotwd’s,’ said th young woan. ‘No you know; and that’s all I have got to say.’ With whic words s urrid into th house, as if to shake off th responsibility of my appearance; and left me standing at th garde-gate, looking Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 265 disconsolatey over th top of it toards th parlur wido, wre a muslin curtain partly undrawn in th middle, a large round green sreen or fan fastened on to the widows, a smal tabl, and a great chair, suggested to me that my aunt mght be at that moment seated in awful state My shos were by this time in a woful condition Th soles had sed themsves bit by bit, and the upper leathers had broken and burst until the very shape and form of shoes had departed from th. My hat (wich had served me for a night-cap, to) was so crusd and bent, that no old battered handleles saucpan o a dungh ned have bee ashamed to vi with it. My shirt and trousers, stained with heat, dew, grass, and th Kentish soil o whic I had spt—and torn besde—mght have frightend the birds from my aunt’s garden, as I stood at the gate. My hair had known no comb or brus since I left London My face, neck, and hands, fro unaccustod exposure to th air and sun, wre burnt to a berry-brown. From head to foot I was powdered alt as wite with chalk and dust, as if I had come out of a lime-kiln. In this plight, and with a strong consciusness of it, I waited to introduc myself to, and make my first impression on, my formidable aunt. The unbroken stillnes of the parlour window leadig me to ifer, after a whe, that she was not there, I lfted up my eyes to the window above it, where I saw a florid, plasant-lookig getlan, wth a grey head, who shut up one eye in a grotesque anr, ndded his head at me sveral tim, shook it at me as ften, laughd, and went away. I had be discomposd enugh before; but I was so much th more discposed by this unxpected beaviur, that I was on th Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 266 point of sking off, to think ho I had best prod, wh thre am out of the house a lady with her handkerchief tied over her cap, and a pair of gardeing glve on her hands, warig a gardeg poket like a toll-man’s apron, and carrying a great knife I kn hr immediatey to be Miss Betsy, for she came talkig out of the house exactly as my poor mother had so often deribed her stalkig up our garde at Blunderstone Rookery. ‘Go away!’ said Miss Betsy, shaking her head, and making a ditant chop in the air with her knfe. ‘Go along! No boys here!’ I watched her, with my heart at my lips, as se marched to a crner of her garden, and stooped to dig up so little root there. Then, without a scrap of curage, but with a great deal of desperati, I went softly in and stod bede her, toucng her with my figer. ‘If you please, ma’am,’ I began She started and looked up. ‘If you please, aunt.’ ‘Eh?’ exclaid Mi Betsey, in a to of amazement I have ver heard approached. ‘If you please, aunt, I am your nephew.’ ‘Oh, Lord!’ said my aunt. Ad sat flat dow in the garde-path ‘I am David Copperfield, of Blundersto, in Suffolk—whre you came, on th night wh I was born, and saw my dear mama. I have be very unappy since she did. I have be slighted, and taught nothing, and thrown upon mysf, and put to work nt fit for me. It made me run away to you. I was robbed at first setting out, and have walked al the way, and have never spt i a bed since I began th journey.’ Here my self-support gave way all at onc; and with a movemet of my hands, intended to show her my Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 267 ragged state, and call it to witnss that I had suffered somethg, I broke into a passion of crying, which I suppose had be pent up wth me al the week. My aunt, with every sort of expression but wonder discarged from her countenan, sat on the grave, starig at me, until I began to cry; when sh got up in a great hurry, coared m, and took m ito the parlour. Her first procedig there was to unlok a tal pres, bring out several bottl, and pour some of th tents of each into my mouth I thk they must have been take out at random, for I am sure I tasted and water, anhovy sauce, and salad dresg. When she had admtered th restorative, as I was still quite hysterical, and unable to contro my sobs, she put me on th sofa, with a shawl under my had, and the handkercef from her own head under my feet, lt I should suly the cover; and then, sitting hersef down bed the gree fan or scren I have already mentioned, so that I could not se hr face, ejaculated at intervals, ‘Mercy on us!’ letting th xclamations off like minute guns. After a time she rang the be. ‘Janet,’ said my aunt, when her servant came in. ‘Go upstairs, give my compliments to Mr. Dik, and say I wish to speak to hi’ Jant looked a lttle surprisd to se me lyig stiffly on the sfa (I was afraid to move lest it should be displeasng to my aunt), but went on her errand. My aunt, with her hands bed her, walked up and do the room, until the gentlan who had squinted at m from the upper window cam in laughing. ‘Mr. Dick,’ said my aunt, ‘do’t be a foo, because nobody can be re direet than you can, when you choose. We all know that. So do’t be a fool, whatever you are.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 268 Th gentleman was serius immediatey, and looked at me, I thought, as if he would entreat me to say nthing about the window. ‘Mr. Dick,’ said my aunt, ‘you have heard me mention David Cpperfield? Now don’t preted not to have a memory, becaus you and I know better.’ ‘David Copperfid?’ said Mr. Dick, wh did not appear to me to remember much about it. ‘David Copperfield? Oh ye, to be sure David, certainly.’ ‘Well,’ said my aunt, ‘this is his boy—hs son He wuld be as like his fathr as it’s possible to be, if he was not so like hs mothr, too.’ ‘His son?’ said Mr. Dick. ‘David’s son? Indeed!’ ‘Yes,’ pursued my aunt, ‘and he has don a pretty piece of business. He has run away. Ah! His sister, Betsy Trotwd, never would have run away.’ My aunt shook her head firmy, cofidet i the character and behaviour of the girl who never was born ‘Oh! you thk she wouldn’t have run away?’ said Mr. Dick. ‘Bless and save th man,’ exclaimed my aunt, sharply, ‘ho he talks! Don’t I know she wouldn’t? She would have lived with her god-mther, and we should have been devoted to one another. Where, i the nam of woder, should his siter, Betsey Trotwood, have run from, or to?’ ‘Nore,’ said Mr. Dick. ‘Well then,’ returned my aunt, softened by the reply, ‘how can you preted to be wo-gathring, Dik, wh you are as sharp as a surgen’s lancet? Now, here you see young David Cpperfield, and the question I put to you is, what shal I do with him?’ ‘What shal you do with him?’ said Mr. Dick, febly, scratchig Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 269 hi head. ‘Oh! do with him?’ ‘Yes,’ said my aunt, with a grave lok, and hr forefinger hd up. ‘Come! I want some very sound advice.’ ‘Why, if I was you,’ said Mr. Dick, coiderig, and lkig vacantly at me, ‘I should—’ Th conteplation of me seed to inspire hm wth a sudde idea, and he added, brikly, ‘I should was him!’ ‘Jant,’ said my aunt, turnig round with a quiet triumph, whic I did not then understand, ‘Mr. Dik sets us all right. Heat the bath!’ Althugh I was deeply interested in this dialogue, I could not hlp observing my aunt, Mr. Dik, and Janet, while it was i progress, and completing a survey I had already be engaged in akig of the room. My aunt was a tall, hard-featured lady, but by no mans illookig. Thre was an inflxibiity in her face, in her voice, i hr gait and carriage, amply suffit to account for th effect she had made upo a gentle creature like my mothr; but her feature were rather hands than otherwis, though unbedig and austere I particularly noticed that she had a very quick, bright eye Her hair, which was grey, was arranged i tw plain divi, under what I believe would be called a mob-cap; I mean a cap, much more common th than now, with side-pieces fasteg under th chi. Her dres was of a laveder colour, and perfetly neat; but scantiy made, as if she desred to be as littl cumbered as possibl I remember that I thught it, in form, more like a riding-habit with th superfluous skirt cut off, than anythng e. She wre at her side a gentlman’s gold watc, if I might judge fro its size and make, wth an appropriate chain and Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 270 seals; she had some lin at her throat not unlike a shirt-collar, and things at her wrists like littl shirt-wristbands. Mr. Dick, as I have already said, was grey-haded, and flrid: I should have said al about him, in saying so, had nt his head been curiously bowed—nt by age; it remded me of o of Mr. Creakle’s boys’ heads after a beating—and his grey eye prot and large, with a strange kind of watery brightne in th that made me, in cobination with his vacant manner, h submission to my aunt, and his childish delight w she praised hi, suspect him of beg a little mad; though, if he were mad, how he cam to be there puzzld me extremey. He was dresd like any othr ordinary gentleman, in a loo grey morng coat and waistcoat, and wite trousers; and had his watc in his fob, and his money in his pockets: which he rattld as if he were very proud of it. Jant was a pretty bloomig girl, of about ntee or twenty, and a perfet picture of neatness. Thugh I made no furthr observation of her at th moment, I may mention hre wat I did not discver until afterwards, namely, that she was o of a seri of protégées whom my aunt had take into her servic expresy to educate in a renouncement of mankind, and w had geraly cpleted their abjuration by marrying the baker. Th ro was as neat as Janet or my aunt. As I laid dow my pe, a mot since, to think of it, the air from the sa cam blowing in agai, mxed with the perfume of the flowers; and I saw th old-fashioned furniture brightly rubbed and polished, my aunt’s iviolabl cair and table by the round gree fan in the bow-window, the drugget-covered carpet, the cat, the kettleholder, the two canaries, the old cha, the punbowl full of drid Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 271 ro-laves, th tal pres guarding al sorts of bottl and pots, and, wonderfully out of kepig with the rest, my dusty sef upon the sofa, takig nte of everythig. Jant had gon away to get the bath ready, when my aunt, to my great alarm, became in on moment rigid with indignation, and had hardly voice to cry out, ‘Janet! Donkeys!’ Upon which, Janet came running up th stairs as if th huse re in flam, darted out on a lttle pi of green i front, and warnd off tw saddle-donkeys, lady-ridden, that had preumd to t hoof upon it; while my aunt, rushg out of the house, sezed th bridle of a third animal laden wth a bestriding child, turnd hi, ld hi forth from those sacred precits, and boxed the ears of the unlucky urch in attendan who had dared to profan that halwed ground. To this hour I do’t know whether my aunt had any lawful right of way over that patch of green; but she had settled it in her own mnd that sh had, and it was al the sam to her. The one great outrage of her life, deandig to be cotantly aveged, was the pasage of a dokey over that imaculate spot. In whatever occupati she was engaged, hover interesting to her th nversati in which she was taking part, a donkey turnd th current of her ideas in a moment, and she was upo h straight. Jugs of water, and waterig-pots, were kept in seret plac ready to be discarged on th offending boys; sticks were laid in ambush bend the door; sal were made at al hours; and inant war prevaid. Perhaps th was an agreeabl excitemet to th dokey-boys; or perhaps the more sagacous of the donkeys, understandig how the cas stood, deghted with cnstitutional obstinacy i coming that way. I only know that thre were thre Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 272 alarms before th bath was ready; and that on th ocasion of th last and most desperate of all, I saw my aunt engage, singlehanded, wth a sandy-haded lad of fiften, and bump his sandy head against her own gate, before he seemed to cprehend what was the matter. Thes iterrupti were of the more ridiulus to m, beause se was giving m broth out of a table-spoon at the tim (havig firmy persuaded hersef that I was actualy starving, and must receive nourishment at first in very small quantiti), and, wile my mouth was yet ope to receive th spo, she would put it back into the bas, cry ‘Janet! Dokeys!’ and go out to the assault. The bath was a great cofort. For I began to be snsibl of acute pains in my libs fro lyig out in th fids, and was now so tired and low that I could hardly keep myself awake for five utes together. Wh I had bathed, they (I mean my aunt and Janet) enrobed me in a shirt and a pair of trousers belonging to Mr. Dik, and tied m up i two or three great saw What srt of bundl I looked like, I don’t know, but I felt a very hot one. Feeling al very fait and drowsy, I soon lay down on the sfa agai and fell aslep. It might have be a dream, originating in th fancy which had occupied my md so long, but I awoke with th impression that my aunt had come and bent over me, and had put my hair away fro my face, and laid my head more comfortably, and had th tood lookig at m The words, ‘Pretty fellw,’ or ‘Poor fellw,’ sd to be i my ears, too; but certainly there was nothing el, wen I awoke, to lad me to beeve that they had been uttered by my aunt, who sat i the bow-window gazig at the sea from bed th gre fan, which was mounted on a kid of swive, and Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 273 turned any way. We dined soo after I awoke, off a roast fo and a pudding; I sitting at table, not unlike a trusd bird myself, and moving my arms with considerable difficulty. But as my aunt had swathd me up, I made no complait of beig inveienced. All this time I was deply anxious to know what sh was going to do with m; but she tok hr dinnr in profound silen, except wh she ccasially fixed her eye on me sitting opposite, and said, ‘Mercy upo us!’ which did not by any means reve my anxity. The coth beg drawn, and s shrry put upon the tabl (of wich I had a glass), my aunt sent up for Mr. Dik again, w joined us, and looked as wi as he could when she requested him to attend to my story, which she elcited fro me, gradualy, by a course of quetis. During my recital, she kept her eye on Mr. Dik, who I thought would have gone to slp but for that, and who, whensever he lapsd into a se, was checked by a frown from my aunt. ‘Whatever possesd that poor unfortunate Baby, that she must go and be marrid again,’ said my aunt, wh I had fiished, ‘I can’t conceive.’ ‘Perhaps she fe in love with her secod husband,’ Mr. Dick suggested. ‘Fel in love!’ repeated my aunt. ‘What do you mean? What business had she to do it?’ ‘Perhaps,’ Mr. Dick simpered, after thinking a littl, ‘she did it for pleasure.’ ‘Pleasure, indeed!’ replied my aunt. ‘A mighty pleasure for th poor Baby to fix her simple faith upo any dog of a fellow, certai to il-use her in so way or other. What did se propose to Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 274 herself, I should like to know! She had had one husband. She had seen David Copperfield out of the world, who was alays rung after wax do from his cradl She had got a baby—oh, there wre a pair of babi wh she gave birth to this child sitting here, that Friday nght!—and what more did s want?’ Mr. Dick seretly shook his head at me, as if he thought there was no getting over this ‘She couldn’t even have a baby like anybody else,’ said my aunt. ‘Where was this child’s sister, Betsy Trotwd? Not forthing. Don’t tell me!’ Mr. Dick seed quite frighted. ‘That lttle man of a dotor, with his head on one sde,’ said my aunt, ‘Jellps, or whatever his name was, wat was he about? Al is— could do, was to say to me, like a robin redbreast—as he “It’s a boy.” A boy! Yah, the imbety of the whe set of ’em!’ The heartin of the ejaculati startled Mr. Dik excdigly; and me, too, if I am to tel the truth. ‘And then, as if this was nt eough, and s had nt stood sufficiently in th light of this chid’s sister, Betsy Trotwd,’ said my aunt, ‘s marri a send time—gos and marri a Murderer—or a man with a nam like it—and stands i this child’s lght! Ad the natural coquence is, as anybody but a baby mght have fores, that he prowls and wanders He’s as lke Cain before he was gro up, as he can be.’ Mr. Dick looked hard at me, as if to idetify me in this character. ‘And then there’s that woman with the Pagan nam,’ said my aunt, ‘that Peggotty, she goes and gets married next. Becaus sh she goes and has not se enough of the evi attendig suc things, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 275 gets married nxt, as the chd relates I ony hope,’ said my aunt, sakig her head, ‘that her husband is one of those Poker husbands who abound in the newspapers, and will beat her well with one’ I could not bear to hear my old nurs so decried, and made th subjet of such a wish. I told my aunt that indeed she was take That Peggotty was the bet, the truest, the mot faithful, most devoted, and most self-deying friend and servant in th rld; wh had ever loved me dearly, wh had ever loved my mothr dearly; w had hd my mothr’s dying head upo her arm, o wh face my mothr had imprited her last grateful kiss. And my remembrance of th both, choking me, I broke down as I was trying to say that her home was my home, and that all she had was mine, and that I would have go to her for sheter, but for hr humble station, which made me fear that I mght brig s troubl on her—I broke do, I say, as I was tryig to say so, and laid my face in my hands upo the table. ‘Well, we!’ said my aunt, ‘th child is right to stand by th who have stood by him—Jant! Donkeys!’ I thoroughy beeve that but for those unfortunate dokeys, we hould have c to a good understandig; for my aunt had laid her hand on my shoulder, and the impule was upon me, thus embodeed, to embrace her and beeech her protection. But th interruption, and th disorder she was thro into by th struggl utside, put an end to al softer ideas for th pret, and kept my aunt indignantly deaig to Mr. Dik about her determiati to appeal for redre to the laws of her country, and to brig actions for trespas against the whole donkey proprietorshp of Dover, until tea-tim Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 276 After tea, we sat at the window—o the look-out, as I imagid, fro my aunt’s sharp expre of face, for more invaders—unti dusk, wh Janet set candles, and a backgam-board, on th table, and puled do the blds ‘No, Mr. Dick,’ said my aunt, with her grave lok, and her forefinger up as before, ‘I am gog to ask you anothr queti Lok at this child.’ ‘David’s son?’ said Mr. Dick, with an attetive, puzzld face. ‘Exactly so,’ returnd my aunt. ‘What would you do with hm, now?’ ‘Do with David’s son?’ said Mr. Dick. ‘Ay,’ replied my aunt, ‘with David’s son’ ‘Oh!’ said Mr. Dick. ‘Yes. Do with—I should put him to bed.’ ‘Janet!’ cried my aunt, with th same complacent triumph that I had remarked before. ‘Mr. Dick sets us all right. If the bed is ready, we’ll take him up to it.’ Jant reporting it to be quite ready, I was take up to it; kidly, but in some sort like a prir; my aunt gog in frot and Janet bringing up th rear. Th only circumstance which gave me any ne hope, was my aunt’s stopping on th stairs to iquire about a s of fire that was prevalt there; and janet’s replying that s ad bee making tinder dow in th kitcn, of my od shirt. But there were no other clothes in my room than the odd heap of things I wore; and when I was lft there, with a little taper whic my aunt forearnd me would burn exactly five minutes, I heard them lok my door on the outside Turnig thes things over i my mind I deed it posble that my aunt, w could kn nothing of me, might suspet I had a habit of runng away, and took preautions, on that acunt, to have me in safe kepig. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 277 The room was a pleasant one, at the top of the house, overlooking th sea, on which th moo was shining brilliantly. After I had said my prayers, and th candle had burnt out, I rember how I stil sat lookig at the moonlight on the water, as if I could hope to read my fortun in it, as in a bright bok; or to my mothr with her child, coming fro Heave, along that sg path, to look upo me as she had looked when I last saw r swet face. I remember ho th solemn feg wth wich at lgth I turned my eye away, yieded to the seati of gratitude and rest wich th sight of th white-curtained bed—and ho much more th lyig softly dow upo it, nestlng in th swhite sheets!—ipired. I rember how I thought of al the stary plac under the night sky where I had slpt, and how I prayed that I never mght be huseless any more, and never might forget the houseles I reber how I seemed to float, then, dow th melany glry of that track upo th sea, away ito th world of dreams. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 278 Chapter 14 MY AUNT MAKES UP HER MIND ABOUT ME O n going do in the mornig, I found my aunt musg so profoundly over the breakfast table, with her elbow on the tray, that the cotets of the urn had overflowed the teapot and were laying the whole table-cloth under water, when my entran put her meditations to flight. I felt sure that I had been the subject of her reflecti, and was more than ever anxious to know her itentins towards me Yet I dared not express my anxity, lest it should give her offence. My eyes, however, not beg so muc under ctro as my tongue, were attracted towards my aunt very often during breakfast. I never could look at her for a fe moments togethr but I found her lookig at me—in an odd thoughtful manner, as if I were an ime way off, intead of beg on the other sde of the smal round table. When se had fined her breakfast, my aunt very deberately land back i her chair, kntted her brows, folded hr arms, and conteplated me at her leisure, with such a fixedness of attention that I was quite overpowred by ebarrassment. Not having as yet fiished my on breakfast, I attempted to hide my cofusi by procedig with it; but my knife tumbled over my fork, my fork tripped up my knife, I chipped bits of baco a surprising height into th air instead of cutting them for my own eating, and choked mysf with my tea, wich persisted in gog th wrog way instead of th right o, until I gave in altogether, and sat blushig under my aunt’s close Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 279 scrutiny. ‘Hallo!’ said my aunt, after a long time. I looked up, and met her sharp bright glan respectfully. ‘I have writte to him,’ said my aunt. ‘To—?’ ‘To your fathr-in-law,’ said my aunt. ‘I have sent hm a letter that I’l trouble him to attend to, or he and I will fall out, I can tell !’ ‘Does he kn where I am, aunt?’ I inquired, alarmed. ‘I have tod him,’ said my aunt, with a nd. ‘Shal I—be—given up to him?’ I faltered. ‘I don’t kn,’ said my aunt. ‘We shal see.’ ‘Oh! I can’t thk what I shal do,’ I exclaid, ‘if I have to go back to Mr. Murdstone!’ ‘I do’t know anything about it,’ said my aunt, shakig her had. ‘I can’t say, I am sure. We shal see.’ My spirits sank under th words, and I became very dowcast and heavy of heart. My aunt, withut appearing to take much hd of me, put o a coarse apron wth a bib, which she tok out of th pres; washed up th teacups with her own hands; and, wh everythig was wased and set in the tray agai, and the cloth folded and put on the top of the whole, rang for Jant to remve it. Sh next swpt up the crumbs with a little broom (putting on a pair of gloves first), until there did nt appear to be o microscopic speck left on th carpet; next dusted and arranged th ro, which was dusted and arranged to a hair’s breadth already. Wh al thes tasks were performed to her satisfaction, s took off the gloves and apron, folded them up, put them i the particular cornr of th pre fro which thy had be taken, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 280 brought out her work-box to her own table i the open window, and sat down, with the gree fan betwee her and the lght, to work. ‘I wish you’d go upstairs,’ said my aunt, as she threaded her nedle, ‘and give my coplments to Mr. Dick, and I’l be glad to know how he gets on with his Memorial’ I ro with all alacrity, to acquit myself of this comission. ‘I suppose,’ said my aunt, eyeng me as narroy as she had eyed the ndle i threadig it, ‘you think Mr. Dik a short nam, eh?’ ‘I thught it was rather a short name, yesterday,’ I confessed. ‘You are not to suppose that he hasn’t got a longer name, if he cho to us it,’ said my aunt, with a loftier air. ‘Babley—Mr. Riard Bably—that’s the gentlan’s true nam’ I was going to suggest, with a mdet se of my youth and the famarity I had be already guilty of, that I had better give hi th full benefit of that name, wh my aunt went on to say: ‘But do’t you cal him by it, whatever you do He can’t bear his am That’s a peularity of his Though I do’t know that it’s much of a pecularity, eithr; for he has be ill-usd enugh, by some that bear it, to have a mortal antipathy for it, Heave knows. Mr. Dick is his nam here, and everywhere els, n—if he ever wnt anywre el, wh he don’t. So take care, chid, you don’t call him anything but Mr. Dick.’ I proised to obey, and went upstairs with my message; thinking, as I wnt, that if Mr. Dick had be working at hi Memrial lg, at the sam rate as I had se him workig at it, through the open door, when I cam down, he was probably getting on very well indeed. I found him still drivig at it with a Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 281 long pen, and his head almost laid upo th paper. He was so intent upo it, that I had ampl leisure to observe th large paper kite in a cornr, th confusion of bundles of manusript, th umber of pens, and, above al, the quantity of ink (whic he seemed to have i, i half-gal jars by the doze), before he obsrved my beg present. ‘Ha! Phobus!’ said Mr. Dick, layig dow his pen ‘How does the world go? I’l tell you what,’ he added, in a lower tone, ‘I shouldn’t wish it to be mentioned, but it’s a—’ here he beckond to me, and put his lips clos to my ear—‘it’s a mad world. Mad as Bedlam, boy!’ said Mr. Dick, takig snuff from a round box on the table, and laughng heartily. Without preumig to give my opi on this question, I delivered my mesage ‘Well,’ said Mr. Dick, in answer, ‘my complments to her, and I—I beeve I have made a start. I thk I have made a start,’ said Mr. Dick, passg his hand among his grey hair, and castig anythng but a confident look at his manusript. ‘You have be to hool?’ ‘Yes, sir,’ I answered; ‘for a short time.’ ‘Do you rellect th date,’ said Mr. Dick, lookig earntly at me, and taking up his pen to note it dow, ‘wn King Charles th First had his head cut off?’ I said I beeved it happened in the year sixtee hundred and forty-ni ‘We,’ returned Mr. Dik, scratchg his ear with his pe, and lookig dubiously at m ‘So the books say; but I do’t see how that can be. Becaus, if it was so long ago, ho could th people about hi have made that mitake of putting so of the troubl out of his head, after it was taken off, into mine?’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 282 I was very much surprised by th inquiry; but could give no information on th poit. ‘It’s very strange,’ said Mr. Dick, wth a despondent look upo is papers, and wth his hand among his hair again, ‘that I never can get that quite right. I never can make that perfectly clar. But n matter, no matter!’ he said chrfully, and rousig hif, ‘there’s tim enough! My coplts to Mis Trotwood, I am getting on very wel inded.’ I was going away, when he directed my attenti to the kite. ‘What do you think of that for a kite?’ he said. I answered that it was a beautiful on I should thk it must have been as muc as seve feet high ‘I made it. We’ll go and fly it, you and I,’ said Mr. Dick. ‘Do you se this?’ He shod me that it was covered with manusript, very closy and laboriously written; but so plainly, that as I looked along the l, I thought I saw so alluson to Kig Charles the First’s head again, in one or two plac ‘Thre’s plenty of string,’ said Mr. Dick, ‘and wh it fls high, it takes th facts a long way. That’s my manr of diffusing ’em. I don’t kn whre thy may come dow It’s accordig to circumstance, and th wind, and so forth; but I take my chance of that.’ His fac was so very mild and pleasant, and had somethg so reverend in it, thugh it was hale and harty, that I was not sure but that he was having a good-humoured jest with m So I laughd, and he laughd, and we parted th best friends possibl ‘Well, chid,’ said my aunt, when I wet dowstairs. ‘Ad what of Mr. Dick, this morng?’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 283 I informd her that he sent hi compliments, and was getting o very well indeed. ‘What do you thk of him?’ said my aunt. I had so shadowy idea of endeavouring to evade the question, by replying that I thought him a very ni gentlan; but my aunt was nt to be so put off, for sh laid her work down in r lap, and said, folding her hands upo it: ‘Co! Your sister Betsy Trotwd would have told me what she thught of anyo, directly. Be as like your sister as you can, and speak out!’ ‘Is he—i Mr. Dick—I ask becaus I don’t know, aunt—is h at all out of his mind, th?’ I stammered; for I felt I was o dangerous ground. ‘Not a mors,’ said my aunt. ‘Oh, indeed!’ I observed faitly. ‘If there is anything in the world,’ said my aunt, with great decision and force of maner, ‘that Mr. Dick is not, it’s that.’ I had nthing better to offer, than another timd, ‘Oh, ided!’ ‘He has been called mad,’ said my aunt. ‘I have a selfish pleasure in saying he has be called mad, or I should nt have had th befit of his society and advice for th last ten years and upwards—i fact, ever sie your siter, Betsey Trotwood, disappoited me.’ ‘So long as that?’ I said. ‘And nice people thy were, wh had th audacity to call h mad,’ pursued my aunt. ‘Mr. Dik is a sort of distant conxion of m—it do’t matter how; I nedn’t enter into that. If it hadn’t been for m, his own brother would have shut him up for life. That’s all.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 284 I am afraid it was hypocritical i me, but sng that my aunt felt strongly on th subjet, I tried to look as if I felt strongly to ‘A proud fool!’ said my aunt. ‘Beaus his brother was a little ccentri—thugh h is not half so eccentric as a god many peopl—he didn’t like to have him visble about his house, and sent hi away to some private asylum-place: thugh h had be left to his particular care by thr deceasd fathr, wh thught hm almost a natural. And a wise man he must have be to think so! Mad himself, no doubt.’ Again, as my aunt looked quite convinced, I endeavoured to look quite conviced also. ‘So I stepped in,’ said my aunt, ‘and made him an offer. I said, “Your brother’s san—a great deal mre san than you are, or ever wil be, it is to be hoped. Let him have his little i, and come and live with me. I am nt afraid of him, I am nt proud, I am ready to take care of him, and shal nt i-treat hi as s peopl (besdes the asylum-folks) have do” After a good deal of squabblg,’ said my aunt, ‘I got hi; and he has been hre ever since. He is th most friendly and amable creature in existece; and as for advice!—But nobody knows wat that man’s md is, except myself.’ My aunt smoothed her dres and shook her head, as if s oothed defian of the whole world out of the one, and shook it out of the other. ‘He had a favourite sister,’ said my aunt, ‘a god creature, and very kind to him. But she did wat thy all do—tok a husband. And he did what they al do—made her wretced. It had suc an effect upon the md of Mr. Dick ( that’s not madnes, I hope!) that, cbid with his fear of his brother, and his sense of his Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 285 unkidn, it threw him into a fever. That was before he cam to me, but th reti of it is oppreve to him eve now Did he ay anything to you about Kig Charl the First, chd?’ ‘Yes, aunt.’ ‘Ah!’ said my aunt, rubbing her nose as if she were a littl vexed. ‘That’s his allegorical way of expresing it. He connects hi illns with great disturban and agitation, naturaly, and that’s the figure, or the sie, or whatever it’s called, whic he chooses to use. And why shouldn’t he, if he thinks proper!’ I said: ‘Certaiy, aunt.’ ‘It’s not a bus-lke way of speaking,’ said my aunt, ‘nr a wrldly way. I am aware of that; and that’s th reason why I insist upo it, that there shan’t be a word about it in his Memorial’ ‘Is it a Memorial about his own history that he is writing, aunt?’ ‘Yes, chid,’ said my aunt, rubbig her no agai ‘He is memorialzing th Lord Cancellor, or th Lord Somebody or other—one of those peopl, at al events, who are paid to be memorialzed—about his affairs. I suppose it wi go in, o of th days He has’t be abl to draw it up yet, withut introducg that mode of expressing hif; but it don’t signify; it keeps him employed.’ In fact, I found out afterwards that Mr. Dik had be for upwards of ten years edeavouring to keep King Charles th First out of the Memrial; but he had be cotantly getting into it, and was there no ‘I say again,’ said my aunt, ‘nbody kns what that man’s mind is except myself; and he’s th most ameable and friendly creature in exiten If he like to fly a kite stim, what of that! Franklin usd to fly a kite He was a Quaker, or somethg of Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 286 that sort, if I am not mistaken. And a Quaker flying a kite is a much more ridiculous object than anybody el.’ If I could have supposed that my aunt had recounted these particulars for my espeal behoof, and as a pi of cfide in , I should have felt very muc ditiguished, and should have augured favourably from suc a mark of her good opi But I culd hardly help obsrving that she had launcd into them, chiefly becaus th queti was raised in her own mid, and with very little referen to me, though sh had addred hersef to m the abse of anybody els t the sam tim, I must say that the genrosity of her campionsp of poor harml Mr. Dick, nt only inpired my young breast with some selfi hope for myself, but warmd it unsfiy towards her. I beve that I began to know that there was sthing about my aunt, ntwithstandig her many etrictie and odd humours, to be honured and trusted in Thugh she was just as sharp that day as on th day before, and was in and out about the dokeys just as often, and was thrown ito a tremdous state of indignatin, when a young man, going by, ogled Jant at a window (whic was one of the gravest misdeanours that could be comitted against my aunt’s dignity), she seed to me to comand more of my respect, if not less of my fear. Th anxity I underwt, in th interval which necessarily eapsd before a reply could be recved to her letter to Mr. Murdsto, was extre; but I made an endeavour to suppres it, and to be as agreeable as I could in a quiet way, both to my aunt and Mr. Dik. The latter and I would have gone out to fly the great kite; but that I had sti n other clothes than the anything but Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 287 ornamtal garmets with whic I had be derated on the first day, and wh confid me to th house, except for an hur after dark, wh my aunt, for my halth’s sake, paraded me up and down on the clff outside, before going to bed. At lgth the reply fro Mr. Murdsto came, and my aunt informd me, to my ifinte terror, that he was cog to speak to her hersef o the next day. On th next day, still bundled up in my curius habits, I sat cunting the tim, flushed and heated by the conflict of sinking hpe and ring fears within me; and waitig to be startled by the sight of the gloomy fac, whose no-arrival tartled m every miute My aunt was a littl more iperius and stern than usual, but I obsrved n other toke of her preparig hersef to receve the visitor so much dreaded by me. She sat at wrk i th wdo, and I sat by, with my thoughts runng astray on all pobl and imposble results of Mr. Murdsto’s visit, until pretty late in th aftern Our dinner had bee indefinitely postponed; but it was growing so late, that my aunt had ordered it to be got ready, when she gave a sudden alarm of donkeys, and to my conternation and amazet, I beheld Mis Murdstone, on a sde-saddl, ride deliberately over th sacred piece of gre, and stop in frot of th house, lookig about her. ‘Go along with you!’ cried my aunt, shaking hr had and hr fist at the window. ‘You have n bus there. How dare you trespass? Go along! Oh! you bod-faced thing!’ My aunt was so exasperated by th coolness with which Mi Murdstone looked about her, that I realy beeve she was tionl, and unabl for the mot to dart out acrdig to custo. I seized th opportunity to inform her wh it was; and that Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 288 th gentleman now coming near th offender (for th way up was very step, and he had dropped bed), was Mr. Murdstone elf. ‘I don’t care wh it is!’ cried my aunt, still shaking hr had and gesticulating anythng but we fro th bow-wndow ‘I wn’t be trespassed upo I won’t allow it. Go away! Janet, turn hi round. Lead hm off!’ and I saw, fro behd my aunt, a sort of hurrid battl-piece, in which th donkey stod reisting everybody, with all his four legs planted different ways, w Jant tried to pull him round by the bridl, Mr. Murdstone tried to lad him on, Mis Murdstone struck at Jant with a paras, and sveral boys, who had co to se the egagemt, shouted vigorously. But my aunt, suddey derying among them the young malefactor w was th donkey’s guardian, and wh was one of the mot inveterate offenders agait her, though hardly i is tes, rushed out to th scene of acti, pounced upo hm, captured him, dragged him, with his jacket over his head, and his hee grindig the ground, into the garde, and, callg upon Jant to fetch the cotabl and justi, that he mght be take, trid, and executed on the spot, held him at bay there. Th part of th business, hover, did not last long; for th young rascal, beig expert at a varity of fets and dodge, of wich my aunt had no ception, soon went whoopig away, lavig so deep impresion of his nailed bots i th flr-beds, and taking hi dokey in triumph with him Miss Murdsto, during th latter portion of th contet, had diounted, and was nw waitig with her brother at the bottom of th steps, until my aunt should be at leisure to receive th. My aunt, a lttle ruffled by the cobat, marched past them ito the Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 289 house, with great dignity, and took n notic of their pre, until thy were announced by Janet. ‘Shal I go away, aunt?’ I asked, trebling. ‘No, sir,’ said my aunt. ‘Crtainly not!’ With which she pushed me into a cornr near her, and fed Me i wth a chair, as if it wre a prison or a bar of justice. Th posti I contiued to ccupy during th wh interview, and fro it I now saw Mr. and Miss Murdsto enter th ro ‘Oh!’ said my aunt, ‘I was nt aware at first to wh I had th pleasure of objectig. But I don’t alw anybody to ride over that turf. I make no exceptions. I don’t allow anybody to do it.’ ‘Your regulati is rathr awkward to strangers,’ said Miss Murdstone ‘Is it!’ said my aunt. Mr. Murdstone sed afraid of a renwal of hostilitie, and iterposig began: ‘Miss Trotwd!’ ‘I beg your pardo,’ observed my aunt with a ke lok. ‘You are the Mr. Murdstone who married the wido of my late nphew, David Copperfield, of Blundersto Rookery!—Though why Rookery, I don’t know!’ ‘I am,’ said Mr. Murdsto ‘You’ll excuse my sayig, sir,’ returned my aunt, ‘that I thk it wuld have be a much better and happier thing if you had left that poor child alon’ ‘I s far agree with what Mis Trotwood has remarked,’ observed Mi Murdsto, bridling, ‘that I consider our lamented Cara to have be, in all esntial respects, a mere chid.’ ‘It is a comfort to you and me, ma’am,’ said my aunt, ‘wh are Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 290 getting on in life, and are not likey to be made unhappy by our personal attractio, that nbody can say the sam of us’ ‘No doubt!’ returnd Miss Murdsto, thugh, I thught, not with a very ready or gracus ast. ‘And it certainly might have be, as you say, a better and happir thing for my brother if he had never entered into suc a marriage I have always be of that opinion.’ ‘I have no doubt you have,’ said my aunt. ‘Janet,’ rigig th bel, ‘my compliments to Mr. Dick, and beg him to come dow.’ Until he cam, my aunt sat perfectly upright and stiff, frownig at th wall. Whe he came, my aunt performed th ceremony of itroduction. ‘Mr. Dick. A old and itimate friend. On w judget,’ said my aunt, wth ephasis, as an admoniti to Mr. Dick, wh as bitig hi forefinger and lkig rather fooish, ‘I rey.’ Mr. Dick took his finger out of hi mouth, on this hit, and stood amg the group, with a grave and attentive expren of fac My aunt ind her head to Mr. Murdstone, who went on: ‘Miss Trotwd: o th receipt of your letter, I considered it an act of greater justice to myself, and perhaps of more respect to you—’ ‘Thank you,’ said my aunt, still eyeng hm keenly. ‘You nedn’t mind me.’ ‘To answer it in pers, hover inconveient th journey,’ pursued Mr. Murdstone, ‘rather than by ltter. This unhappy boy w has run away fro his friends and his occupati—’ ‘And whe appearance,’ interpoed his sister, directig geral attention to me in my indefinabl costum, ‘is perfetly scandalous Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 291 and disgraceful.’ ‘Jane Murdstone,’ said her brother, ‘have the goodn nt to iterrupt m This unhappy boy, Mis Trotwood, has been the occasi of much domestic troubl and unasiness; both during th lifetime of my late dear wife, and since. He has a sullen, rebeus spirit; a viot temper; and an untoward, itractable disposition. Both my sister and myself have edeavoured to rrect his vices, but ineffectualy. And I have felt—we both have felt, I may say; my sister being fully in my confide—that it is right you should receive this grave and dispassiate assuran fro our lips.’ ‘It can hardly be necesary for me to confirm anythng stated by my brother,’ said Mis Murdstone; ‘but I beg to obsrve, that, of al the boys in the world, I beeve th is the worst boy.’ ‘Strog!’ said my aunt, shortly. ‘But nt at al too strong for the facts,’ returned Mis Murdstone ‘Ha!’ said my aunt. ‘Wel, sir?’ ‘I have my own opi,’ resumd Mr. Murdstone, whose fac darked more and more, th more he and my aunt observed each othr, wich thy did very narroy, ‘as to th best mode of bringing him up; thy are founded, i part, o my knowledge of hm, and in part on my knledge of my on means and resources. I am responsible for th to myself, I act upo th, and I say n mre about them It is enough that I place this boy under the eye of a frid of my own, i a repectable bus; that it doe not plase him; that he runs away fro it; makes hmself a c vagabod about the country; and c here, in rags, to appeal to you, Miss Trotwd. I wish to set before you, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 292 honourably, the exact coequenc—so far as they are with my knowledge—of your abetting him in this appeal’ ‘But about the respectabl bus first,’ said my aunt. ‘If h had be your own boy, you would have put hi to it, just the same, I suppo?’ ‘If he had been my brother’s own boy,’ returned Mis Murdstone, strikig in, ‘h character, I trust, would have be altogether different.’ ‘Or if th poor child, his mothr, had be alive, h wuld still ave go into th respectable business, would he?’ said my aunt. ‘I believe,’ said Mr. Murdsto, with an iation of his had, ‘that Clara would have disputed nothing wich myself and my sister Jane Murdsto were agred was for th best.’ Miss Murdsto confirmed this with an audibl murmur. ‘Humph!’ said my aunt. ‘Unfortunate baby!’ Mr. Dick, w had be rattlg his money all this time, was rattling it so loudly now, that my aunt felt it necesary to chek hi with a look, before saying: ‘Th poor child’s annuity died with her?’ ‘Did with her,’ repld Mr. Murdstone ‘And there was n settlet of the lttle property—the house and garde—the what’s-its-name Rookery without any rooks in it—upon her boy?’ ‘It had been lft to her, uncnditialy, by her first husband,’ Mr. Murdstone began, when my aunt caught hi up with the greatest irascibility and impatice. ‘Good Lord, man, there’s n occason to say that. Left to her unditionaly! I thk I see David Copperfield lookig forward to any condition of any sort or kind, thugh it stared him poit-blank Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 293 in th face! Of course it was left to her unnditionaly. But w she marrid again—wh she tok that most disastrous step of marrying you, in short,’ said my aunt, ‘to be plain—did no o put in a word for th boy at that time?’ ‘My late wife loved her second husband, ma’am,’ said Mr. Murdsto, ‘and trusted implcitly in hi’ ‘Your late wife, sir, was a most unrldly, most unappy, most unfortunate baby,’ returned my aunt, sakig her head at hi ‘That’s what she was And nw, what have you got to say next?’ ‘Merey this, Miss Trotwd,’ he returnd. ‘I am here to take David back—to take him back unditionally, to dispose of hi as I think proper, and to deal with him as I think right. I am not here to make any prom, or give any pldge to anybody. You may possibly have som idea, Miss Trotwd, of abetting hm i is running away, and in his complaits to you. Your mannr, wich I must say doe not see intended to propitiate, induces me to think it possible. Now I must caution you that if you abet h ce, you abet him for god and all; if you step in betw hi and me, now, you must step in, Miss Trotwd, for ever. I cannt trifl, or be trifld with. I am here, for the first and last tim, to take hi away. Is he ready to go? If h is not—and you tell me h is not; on any pretece; it is indifferent to me what—my doors are ut against him henforth, and yours, I take it for granted, are open to him’ To this addre, my aunt had listed with the closet attenti, stting perfectly upright, with her hands folded on one kn, and lookig griy on the speaker. Wh he had fined, se turned hr eye so as to comand Miss Murdsto, withut othrwise disturbing her attitude, and said: Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 294 ‘Well, ma’am, have you got anything to remark?’ ‘Inded, Mis Trotwood,’ said Mis Murdstone, ‘al that I culd say has be so we said by my brothr, and all that I know to be th fact has be so plainly stated by him, that I have nothing to add except my thanks for your polite. For your very great politess, I am sure,’ said Miss Murdsto; with an iroy which no more affected my aunt, than it discompod th cannon I had sept by at Chatham ‘And what do the boy say?’ said my aunt. ‘Are you ready to go, David?’ I anred n, and entreated her not to let me go. I said that neithr Mr. nor Miss Murdsto had ever liked me, or had ever bee kind to me. That thy had made my mama, w always loved me dearly, unappy about me, and that I knew it we, and that Peggotty kn it. I said that I had be more mrable than I thought anybody could believe, who only knew how young I was And I begged and prayed my aunt—I forget in what terms now, but I rember that they affected me very muc then—to befriend and protect me, for my father’s sake ‘Mr. Dick,’ said my aunt, ‘what shal I do with this chid?’ Mr. Dick codered, hestated, brightened, and rejoined, ‘Have measured for a suit of clothes directly.’ ‘Mr. Dick,’ said my aunt triumphantly, ‘give me your hand, for your common sense is invaluable.’ Having shake it wth great crdialty, sh puld me towards her and said to Mr. Murdstone: ‘You can go when you like; I’ll take my chan with the boy. If h’s al you say he is, at least I can do as much for hm then, as you have don. But I don’t beeve a word of it.’ ‘Miss Trotwd,’ rejod Mr. Murdsto, shrugging hi Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 295 shoulders, as he ro, ‘if you were a gentleman—’ ‘Bah! Stuff and nse!’ said my aunt. ‘Don’t talk to me!’ ‘Ho exquisitey polite!’ exclaimed Mi Murdsto, rising. ‘Overpowerig, realy!’ ‘Do you think I do’t know,’ said my aunt, turnig a deaf ear to th sister, and continuing to addre th brothr, and to shake hr had at him with infite expression, ‘what kind of life you must have led that poor, unappy, misdireted baby? Do you think I do’t know what a woeful day it was for the soft little creature wen you first cam i her way—srkig and makig great eyes at her, I’ll be bound, as if you couldn’t say bo! to a goe!’ ‘I never heard anythg so elegant!’ said Miss Murdstoe. ‘Do you think I can’t understand you as well as if I had se you,’ pursued my aunt, ‘no that I do se and hear you—wich, I tell you candidly, is anythng but a plasure to me? Oh yes, bles us! who so smooth and siky as Mr. Murdstone at first! The poor, beghted innocent had never see such a man. He was made of swetness. He worsipped her. He doted o hr boy—tenderly doted on hi! He was to be another father to him, and they were al to live together in a garde of rose, weren’t they? Ugh! Get alg with you, do!’ said my aunt. ‘I never hard anythng like this pers in my life!’ excaimed Miss Murdsto ‘And when you had made sure of the poor little fool,’ said my aunt—‘God forgive me that I should cal her so, and she go you won’t go i a hurry—beaus you had nt do wrong ere eough to her and hers, you must begin to trai her, must you? begin to break her, like a poor caged bird, and war hr deluded life away, in teaching her to sing your notes?’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 296 ‘This is eithr insanty or intoxicati,’ said Miss Murdsto, in a perfect agony at nt beg abl to turn the current of my aunt’s addres toards hersf; ‘and my suspicion is that it’s intoxiati’ Miss Betsy, withut taking th least notice of th iterruption, ctiued to addre hersef to Mr. Murdstone as if there had be no such thing. ‘Mr. Murdstone,’ sh said, shakig her finger at him, ‘you were a tyrant to the sipl baby, and you broke her heart. Sh was a you ever saw loving baby—I kn that; I knew it years before her—and through the bet part of her weakn you gave her the wunds she died of. There is the truth for your cfort, however you like it. And you and your instruments may make th most of it.’ ‘Aow me to inquire, Mis Trotwood,’ iterposed Mis Murdsto, ‘wh you are plased to call, in a choice of words i ich I am not expericed, my brothr’s instruments?’ ‘It was clar enough, as I have told you, years before you ever saw her—and why, in th mysterious dispensatis of Providence, you ever did see her, is more than humanity can compred—it was car eough that the poor soft little thing would marry somebody, at some time or othr; but I did hope it wouldn’t have be as bad as it has turned out. That was the tim, Mr. Murdstone, when sh gave birth to her boy here,’ said my aunt; ‘to the poor chd you sotim tormeted her through afterwards, wich is a disagreabl remembrance and makes th sight of h odius no Aye, aye! you needn’t wie!’ said my aunt. ‘I know it’s true without that.’ He had stood by the door, al this while, observant of her with a smil upo his face, thugh his black eyebro were heavily Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 297 contracted. I remarked now, that, thugh th smile was on his face still, his colour had go in a moment, and he seed to breath as if he had been rung. ‘Good day, sir,’ said my aunt, ‘and good-bye! Good day to you, to, ma’am,’ said my aunt, turng suddenly upo hs sister. ‘Let m see you ride a dokey over my green agai, and as sure as you have a head upon your shoulders, I’l knk your bonnet off, and tread upon it!’ It would require a paiter, and n co paiter too, to depict my aunt’s face as she delivered hersf of this very unxpected sentit, and Miss Murdsto’s fac as she heard it. But the maner of the speech, n le than the matter, was s firy, that Miss Murdsto, withut a word in answer, discretly put her arm through her brother’s, and walked haughtily out of the cottage; my aunt remaig in the window lookig after them; prepared, I have no doubt, in cas of the dokey’s reappearan, to carry her threat into instant exeution. No attempt at defianc beg made, however, her fac gradually relaxed, and beame so pleasant, that I was emboded to kiss and thank her; whic I did with great heartin, and with both my arm casped round her nek. I then shook hands with Mr. Dick, who shook hands with me a great many tim, and haied this happy cl of th prodings with repeated bursts of laughter. ‘You’ll consider yourself guardian, jointly with me, of this chid, Mr. Dick,’ said my aunt. ‘I shal be delghted,’ said Mr. Dick, ‘to be the guardian of David’s son.’ ‘Very god,’ returned my aunt, ‘ that’s settled. I have been Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 298 thkig, do you kn, Mr. Dick, that I might cal him Trotwd?’ ‘Certainy, certaiy. Cal h Trotwd, certaiy,’ said Mr. Dick. ‘David’s son’s Trotwd.’ ‘Trotwd Copperfield, you mean,’ returnd my aunt. ‘Ye, to be sure. Yes. Trotwd Copperfield,’ said Mr. Dick, a lttle abashd. My aunt tok so kindly to th noti, that some ready-made cothes, whic were purchasd for me that afternoon, were marked ‘Trotwood Copperfied’, in her own handwritig, and in indelibl markig-ink, before I put th on; and it was settld that al the other cothes whic were ordered to be made for me (a cplete outfit was bepoke that afternoon) should be marked i the sam way. Thus I began my ne life, in a ne name, and wth everythng nw about m Now that the state of doubt was over, I felt, for many days, like o in a dream. I never thught that I had a curius couple of guardians, in my aunt and Mr. Dick. I nver thought of anything about mysf, dititly. The two things clearest in my mind wre, that a remote had come upo th d Blundersto life—which seed to li in th haze of an immeasurable distance; and that a curtain had for ever fal on y lfe at Murdstone and Griby’s. No one has ever raied that curtain si I have lifted it for a moment, eve in this narrative, with a reluctant hand, and dropped it gladly. The rembrance of that life is fraught with so much pain to me, with so much mental suffering and want of hope, that I have nver had the curage even to exame how log I was doomed to lad it. Whether it lasted for a year, or more, or less, I do not know I only know that it was, and ceased to be; and that I have written, and there I leave Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 299 it. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 300 Chapter 15 I MAKE ANOTHER BEGINNING M r. Dick and I soo became th best of friends, and very often, when hi day’s work was do, went out together to fly the great kite. Every day of his life he had a lg stting at the Memrial, whic nver made the last progres, however hard he laboured, for King Charl the First alays strayed into it, soor or later, and th it was thro aside, and another one begun. The patience and hope with whic he bore thes perpetual diappotmets, the mild perceptio he had that there was sothing wrong about Kig Charl the First, the feebl efforts he made to keep him out, and the crtaity wth ich he came in, and tumbld th Memorial out of all shape, made a deep impresion on me. What Mr. Dick supposed would come of th Memorial, if it were completed; wre h thught it was to go, or what he thought it was to do; he kn no mre than anybody e, I believe Nor was it at all necesary that he should troubl himself with such quetis, for if anythng wre certain under the sun, it was crtai that the Memrial never would be finished. It was quite an affectig sight, I usd to think, to see hi with the kite when it was up a great height in the air. What he had told me, in his ro, about his belief i its dissating th statets pasted on it, which were nothing but od leave of abortive Memrials, mght have be a fancy with hi stim; but not when he was out, lookig up at the kite i the sky, and feing it pul and tug at his hand. He never looked so sere as he Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 301 did then I used to fancy, as I sat by him of an eveg, on a gree ope, and saw him watch the kite high in the quiet air, that it lifted hi mind out of its confusion, and bore it (suc was my boyish thught) into th skies. As he wound th string i and it cam lwer and lwer down out of the beautiful lght, until it fluttered to the ground, and lay there like a dead thing, he sd to wake gradually out of a dream; and I remember to have se take it up, and look about him in a lot way, as if they had both co down together, so that I pitid him with al my heart. While I advanced in friendship and intimacy with Mr. Dick, I did not go backward in th favour of his staun friend, my aunt. She tok so kindly to me, that, in th course of a fe wks, she hortened my adopted nam of Trotwood ito Trot; and even euraged m to hope, that if I wet on as I had begun, I might take equal rank in her affections with my sister Betsy Trotwd. ‘Trot,’ said my aunt one evenig, when the backgam-board was placd as usual for hersef and Mr. Dick, ‘w must not forget your educati’ This was my ony subjet of anxiety, and I felt quite deghted by her referring to it. ‘Should you like to go to school at Canterbury?’ said my aunt. I replied that I should like it very much, as it was so near her. ‘Good,’ said my aunt. ‘Should you like to go tomorro?’ Beig already n stranger to the genral rapidity of my aunt’s voutions, I was not surprid by th suddens of th propoal, and said: ‘Ye.’ ‘Good,’ said my aunt agai ‘Janet, hire the grey pony and chaise tomorro morng at te o’clock, and pack up Master Trotwood’s clothes tonight.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 302 I was greatly elated by the orders; but my heart smote me for my sefihnes, when I witnd their effect on Mr. Dik, who was so low-spirited at th propect of our separati, and played so i in conseque, that my aunt, after giving him several admonitory raps on th knuckl with her dice-box, shut up th board, and declined to play with him any more. But, on hearing fro my aunt that I should sometimes come over on a Saturday, and that h uld sometimes come and se me on a Wednday, he revived; and vowed to make another kite for those occasons, of proportions greatly surpassg the pret one In the morning he was dowarted again, and wuld have sustaid hif by giving me all th money he had i h possession, god and silver too, if my aunt had not interposed, and lted the gift to five shillings, which, at his earnt petiti, were afterwards increased to ten We parted at the garde-gate i a mt affectiate manr, and Mr. Dik did nt go into the house until my aunt had drive me out of sight of it. My aunt, wh was perfetly indifferent to public opinion, drove the grey poy through Dover in a masterly manr; stting high and stiff lke a state coachman, keepig a steady eye upo hi rever he went, and making a poit of not letting him have hi n way in any respet. Whe we came ito th country road, she permitted him to relax a little, however; and lookig at m down i a valy of cushion by her side, asked me whthr I was happy? ‘Very happy indeed, thank you, aunt,’ I said. She was much gratified; and both her hands being ocupied, patted me on the head with her whip. ‘Is it a large school, aunt?’ I asked. ‘Why, I don’t kn,’ said my aunt. ‘We are gog to Mr. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 303 Wickfid’s first.’ ‘Does he kep a shool?’ I asked. ‘No, Trot,’ said my aunt. ‘He keeps an office.’ I asked for n mre iformati about Mr. Wikfied, as sh ffered none, and w conversed on othr subjets until we came to Canterbury, where, as it was market-day, my aunt had a great opportunity of insinuatig th grey pony among carts, baskets, vegetabl, and huckster’s goods The hair-breadth turns and twists we made, dre dow upo us a varity of speeche fro th people standing about, which were not always complimentary; but my aunt drove on with perfet indifference, and I dare say would have take her own way with as muc coolne through an enemy’s country. t legth we stopped before a very old house bulgig out over th road; a huse wth long low lattice-window bulgig out still farther, and beam with carved heads on the ends bulgig out too, s that I fancid the whole house was lanig forward, trying to se wh was passing on th narro pavement below It was quite spotl in its clanliness. Th od-fashioned brass knker o th w arced door, ornamted with carved garlands of fruit and flrs, twinkld like a star; th tw sto steps descending to th door wre as wite as if thy had be covered with fair line; and all th angl and cornrs, and carvings and mouldings, and quait little pan of glass, and quaiter lttle windows, though as d as th hi, were as pure as any sn that ever fe upo th When the poy-chai stopped at the door, and my eyes wre intent upo th house, I saw a cadaverous face appear at a sal window on the ground floor (in a little round tower that formed Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 304 o side of th house), and quickly disappear. Th low arched door then opened, and the fac cam out. It was quite as cadaverous as t had loked i the window, though i the grai of it there was that tinge of red wich is sometimes to be observed in th skis of red-haired peopl It beged to a red-haired perso—a youth of fifteen, as I take it now, but lookig muc older—whose hair was ropped as close as the closest stubble; who had hardly any eyebro, and no eyeashes, and eyes of a red-brown, s unshetered and unshaded, that I remember wonderig ho he nt to sleep. He was high-suldered and bony; dressed in decent black, with a white wisp of a neckcloth; buttod up to th throat; and had a log, lank, sketon hand, whic particularly attracted my attenti, as he stood at the poy’s head, rubbig hi chin with it, and looking up at us in th chaise. ‘Is Mr. Wickfid at ho, Uriah Hep?’ said my aunt. ‘Mr. Wickfid’s at ho, ma’am,’ said Uriah Hep, ‘if you’l plas to walk i there’—pointig with his lg hand to the room he meant. We got out; and lavig him to hold the poy, went into a log low parlur looking toards th stret, fro th window of which I caught a glimps, as I went in, of Uriah Hep breathing ito th pony’s nostrils, and immediatey covering th with his hand, as if h were putting some spel upo hm. Opposite to th tall od chimney-piece were tw portraits: on of a gentleman wth grey hair (thugh not by any means an od man) and black eyebro, who was lookig over so papers tied together with red tape; the other, of a lady, with a very placd and sweet expreson of fac, who was lookig at me I beve I was turning about in search of Uriah’s picture, wh, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 305 a door at the farther end of the room opeg, a gentlan tered, at sight of whom I turned to the first-metid portrait again, to make quite sure that it had not come out of its frame. But it was stationary; and as th gentleman advanced ito th light, I saw that he was s years older than when he had had his picture painted. ‘Miss Betsy Trotwd,’ said th gentleman, ‘pray walk in. I was gaged for a moment, but you’l excuse my being busy. You kn my motive. I have but one in life.’ Miss Betsy thanked him, and we went into his ro, wich was furnished as an office, with boks, papers, tin boxes, and so forth. It looked into a garde, and had an iron safe let ito the wal; s imdiatey over the mantelsf, that I wodered, as I sat dow, ho th sweps got round it wh thy swept th chimney. ‘Well, Mis Trotwood,’ said Mr. Wikfied; for I soon found that it was he, and that he was a lawyer, and steward of the estate of a ric gentlan of the county; ‘what wind blows you here? Not an ill wind, I hope?’ ‘No,’ replied my aunt. ‘I have nt come for any law’ ‘That’s right, ma’am,’ said Mr. Wikfied. ‘You had better c for anythng el.’ His hair was quite white now, thugh h eyebro were sti black. He had a very agreeable fac, and, I thught, was handsome. Thre was a certain richness in hi plexion, which I had be log acustomd, under Peggotty’s tuition, to cot wth port wi; and I fancied it was in his voice to, and referred his groing corpulcy to th same caus He as very cleanly dressed, in a blue coat, striped waitcat, and nankeen trousers; and his fi frilled shirt and cambri nekcth looked unusually soft and white, reminding my strog fancy (I Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 306 call to mid) of the plumage on the breast of a san ‘This is my nephe,’ said my aunt. ‘Was’t aware you had one, Mis Trotwood,’ said Mr. Wikfied. ‘My grand-nphew, that is to say,’ observed my aunt. ‘Wasn’t aware you had a grand-nephe, I give you my word,’ said Mr. Wickfid. ‘I have adopted him,’ said my aunt, with a wave of her hand, importing that hi knledge and his ignorance were all on to her, ‘and I have brought him here, to put to a shool where he may be thoroughly wel taught, and wel treated. Now tell me where that school is, and what it is, and al about it.’ ‘Before I can advi you properly,’ said Mr. Wickfid—‘th od questi, you kn. What’s your motive in th?’ ‘Deuce take th man!’ excaimed my aunt. ‘Always fishing for mtive, when they’re on the surface! Why, to make the cd happy and usful.’ ‘It must be a mxed motive, I thk,’ said Mr. Wickfield, shakig h head and smiling inredulusly. ‘A mixed fiddlstick,’ returned my aunt. ‘You claim to have o plain motive in all you do yourself. You don’t suppo, I hpe, that you are the only plai dealer in the world?’ ‘Ay, but I have ony one motive in life, Mis Trotwood,’ he rejoined, smg. ‘Other peopl have dozens, scres, hundreds. I have only one. There’s the differe However, that’s bede th question. The bet shool? Whatever the motive, you want the best?’ My aunt nodded assent. ‘At th best w have,’ said Mr. Wickfid, condering, ‘your nephe couldn’t board just now’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 307 ‘But he could board somewre e, I suppo?’ suggested my aunt. Mr. Wickfid thught I could. After a littl discussion, h proposed to take my aunt to the school, that she might see it and judge for hersef; al, to take her, with the sam object, to two or three house where he thought I could be boarded. My aunt ebracig the proposal, we were al three going out together, w he stopped and said: ‘Our lttle fried here might have so mtive, perhaps, for objectig to the arrangets. I think we had better leave hi behd?’ My aunt seed disposed to contet th poit; but to facilitate matters I said I would gladly remain bend, if thy pleased; and returnd into Mr. Wickfid’s office, whre I sat dow again, in th air I had first occupid, to await their return. It so happened that this chair was opposite a narro passage, w ended in the little crcular room where I had seen Uriah Heep’s pal fac lookig out of the window. Uriah, having take th pony to a neighbouring stable, was at work at a desk i this ro, which had a brass frame on th top to hang paper upo, and o which th writing he was making a copy of was th hangig. Though his fac was towards m, I thought, for so tim, the writig beg betwee us, that he could not se me; but lookig that way mre attentivey, it made m uncofortable to obsrve that, every no and then, hi sleepl eyes would c be th riting, like tw red sun, and stealthly stare at me for I dare say a wh minute at a time, during which his pen wnt, or preteded to go, as clverly as ever. I made several attempts to get out of thr way—such as standing on a chair to look at a map on th Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 308 other side of the room, and poring over the coum of a Kenti wspaper—but they alays attracted me back agai; and wenever I looked toards those two red sun, I was sure to find th, eithr just rising or just setting. At length, much to my relief, my aunt and Mr. Wickfid came back, after a pretty long absence. Thy were not so succesful as I culd have wised; for though the advantages of the school were undeniable, my aunt had not approved of any of th boardinghouse proposed for m ‘It’s very unfortunate,’ said my aunt. ‘I don’t kn what to do, Trot.’ ‘It does happe unfortunatey,’ said Mr. Wikfied. ‘But I’ll tell you what you can do, Mi Trotwd.’ ‘What’s that?’ inquired my aunt. ‘Leave your nphew here, for the present. He’s a quit fel He wn’t disturb me at all. It’s a capital house for study. As quiet as a monastery, and almost as roy. Leave him here.’ My aunt evidently liked the offer, though se was deate of acceptig it. So did I. ‘Co, Miss Trotwd,’ said Mr. Wickfid. ‘This is th way out of th difficulty. It’s only a temporary arranget, you know. If it don’t act well, or do’t quite acrd with our mutual covence, he can easy go to the right-about. There wil be tim to find so better plac for him in the manwhil You had better determi to leave him here for the present!’ ‘I am very much oblged to you,’ said my aunt; ‘and so is he, I see; but—’ ‘Co! I kn wat you mean,’ cried Mr. Wickfid. ‘You shal not be oppressed by th receipt of favours, Miss Trotwd. You Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 309 may pay for him, if you like We won’t be hard about terms, but you shall pay if you wi.’ ‘On that understanding,’ said my aunt, ‘thugh it doen’t lessen the real obligatio, I shal be very glad to leave him’ ‘Then co and see my littl housekeeper,’ said Mr. Wikfield. We accordigly went up a wonderful od staircase; wth a balustrade s broad that we might have gone up that, alt as easily; and ito a shady old drawing-ro, lighted by some thre or four of the quait windows I had looked up at from the street: wich had od oak seats i th, that seed to have come of th am tree as the shg oak floor, and the great beams in the ceiling. It was a prettily furnished ro, with a piano and some lvey furnture in red and green, and so flowers It sed to be al old nooks and corners; and in every nook and crner there as some quer littl tabl, or cupboard, or bokcase, or seat, or sthing or other, that made m think there was nt suc another good corner in the room; until I lked at the next one, and found it equal to it, if not better. On everything there was the same air of retirement and clanss that marked th house utside. Mr. Wikfield tapped at a door in a corner of the pand wal, and a girl of about my own age came quickly out and kissed hi On hr face, I saw immediatey th placid and swet expresion of the lady whose piture had looked at me dotairs. It seed to my imagination as if th portrait had gron wmanly, and th riginal remained a child. Althugh her face was quite bright and happy, there was a tranquilty about it, and about her—a quiet, god, calm spirit—that I never have forgotten; that I shall never forget. Th was his little housekeeper, his daughter Agn, Mr. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 310 Wikfield said. Wh I heard how he said it, and saw how he held her hand, I guessd what the one motive of his lfe was She had a little basket-trifle hangig at her side, wth keys in it; and she looked as staid and as discret a housekeeper as th od house culd have. She listened to her father as he told her about me, with a plasant face; and wh he had concluded, propod to y aunt that we shuld go upstairs and s my ro We al wt together, s before us: and a glorious old room it was, with mre oak beams, and diamond panes; and th broad balustrade gog al the way up to it. I cannot cal to mind whre or w, i my childhod, I had se a staid glass window in a church. Nor do I ret its ubjet. But I know that when I saw her turn round, i the grave ght of the old staircas, and wait for us, above, I thought of that wndow; and I associated something of its tranquil brightne with Agnes Wickfid ever afterwards. My aunt was as happy as I was, in th arranget made for me; and w went dow to th drawig-ro again, we plasd and gratified. As she wuld not hear of stayig to dinner, lest she should by any chance fail to arrive at ho with th grey pony before dark; and as I appred Mr. Wikfied kn her too wel to argue any pot with her; so lunh was provided for her there, and Agn wet back to her govern, and Mr. Wikfield to offic So we were left to take leave of one another without any restrait. She tod m that everythig would be arranged for m by Mr. Wikfied, and that I should want for nthing, and gave m the kindet words and th best advice. ‘Trot,’ said my aunt in conclusion, ‘be a credit to yourself, to me, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 311 and Mr. Dick, and Heaven be with you!’ I was greatly overcome, and could only thank her, again and agai, and send my lve to Mr. Dick. ‘Never,’ said my aunt, ‘be mean in anythng; never be false; never be crue Avod th thre vices, Trot, and I can always be hopeful of you.’ I proised, as we as I could, that I wuld not abus hr kindn or forget her admtion. ‘Th pony’s at the door,’ said my aunt, ‘and I am off! Stay hre.’ With the words she embraced m hastiy, and wet out of th room, sutting the door after her. At first I was startled by so abrupt a departure, and almost feared I had displeased her; but wen I looked into the street, and saw how dejectedly she got into the chai, and drove away without lookig up, I understood her better and did not do her that injusti By five o’cock, which was Mr. Wikfield’s dir-hour, I had mustered up my spirits again, and was ready for my knife and fork. Th cloth was only laid for us tw; but Agnes was waiting in the drawg-room before dir, went down with her father, and sat oppote to him at tabl I doubted whether he could have did without her. We did not stay there, after dinner, but cam upstairs ito the drawing-ro again: in on snug cornr of which, Agnes set glas for her father, and a deanter of port win I thought he wuld have missed its usual flavour, if it had be put thre for hi by any other hands Thre he sat, taking his wi, and taking a god deal of it, for two hours; we Agn played on the piano, worked, and talked to m and me. He was, for th most part, gay and cherful with us; Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 312 but sotim his eyes rested on her, and he fel into a broodig state, and was silent. She alays observed this quickly, I thught, and always roused him with a questio or cares Then he cam ut of his meditati, and drank more wi gn made the tea, and presded over it; and the ti pasd away after it, as after dinr, until she wnt to bed; w hr fathr tok her in his arms and kissed her, and, she being go, ordered candles in his office. Th I went to bed to But i the course of the eveg I had rambld down to the door, and a lttle way alg the street, that I might have another pep at the old house, and the grey Cathedral; and might think of my coming through that old city on my journey, and of my passing the very house I lived in, withut kng it. A I came back, I saw Uriah Hep shutting up th office; and feing friendly toards verybody, went in and spoke to hm, and at parting, gave hm my hand. But oh, what a clamy hand his was! as ghostly to the touch as to the sight! I rubbed mi afterwards, to warm it, and to rub his off. It was such an unmfortabl hand, that, wh I went to my ro, it was still cod and wet upo my memory. Leaning out of the wdow, and seing oe of the fac on the beam-eds lookig at me sideways, I fancied it was Uriah Hep got up thre how, and shut him out in a hurry. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 313 Chapter 16 I AM A NEW BOY IN MORE SENSES THAN ONE N ext mrnig, after breakfast, I entered on school life again. I wnt, accompanied by Mr. Wickfid, to th scene of my future studies—a grave buiding i a courtyard, wth a learned air about it that seed very well suited to th stray roks and jackdaws wh came dow fro th athedral towers to walk with a clrkly bearig on the grasplot—and was introducd to my ne master, Doctor Strong. Doctor Strong looked almost as rusty, to my thking, as th tal ron rai and gates outside the house; and alt as stiff and heavy as the great stone urns that flanked them, and were set up, o th top of th red-brick wall, at regular distances al round th urt, lke subliated skittle, for Tim to play at. He was in his brary (I man Doctor Strong was), with his cothes nt particularly we brusd, and his hair not particularly w mbed; his kn-smalls unbracd; his long black gaiters unbuttod; and his shos yawing like tw caverns o th hearth-rug. Turnig upon m a lustrel eye, that remnded m of a lg-forgotten bld old horse who onc used to crop the gras, and tumbl over the grave, in Blunderstone churchyard, he said he was glad to se me: and th he gave me hi hand; w I didn’t kn what to do with, as it did nthg for itsef. But, sitting at work, not far from Doctor Strong, was a very pretty young lady—whom he cald Annie, and who was his daughter, I supposed—wh got me out of my difficulty by kning Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 314 dow to put Doctor Strong’s shos on, and button his gaiters, w she did with great cheerfuln and quikn Wh s had find, and we were going out to the shoolroom, I was much surprised to hear Mr. Wickfid, in bidding her god mrnig, addre her as ‘Mrs. Strong’; and I was wonderig could she be Doctor Strong’s son’s wfe, or could she be Mrs. Doctor Strong, w Doctor Strong himself unnsciously enlighted me. ‘By the by, Wickfield,’ he said, stoppig in a passage with hi and on my shoulder; ‘you have not found any suitable provision for my wife’s cous yet?’ ‘No,’ said Mr. Wickfield. ‘No Not yet.’ ‘I could wish it done as soo as it can be done, Wikfid,’ said Doctor Strong, ‘for Jack Maldon is needy, and idl; and of those two bad things, worse things sotim co What do Dotor Watts say,’ he added, looking at me, and moving his had to th time of his quotation, ‘“Satan fids some miscf still, for idle hands to do.”’ ‘Egad, Doctor,’ returned Mr. Wikfied, ‘if Doctor Watts kn ankid, he might have written, with as muc truth, “Satan finds some mischief still, for busy hands to do.” Th busy people acve their full share of mef in the world, you may rey upon it. What have the peopl be about, who have been the bust i getting moy, and i getting power, this ctury or two? No mischief?’ ‘Jack Maldo wi nver be very busy in gettig either, I expect,’ said Doctor Strong, rubbing his chi thughtfully. ‘Perhaps not,’ said Mr. Wickfid; ‘and you bring me back to th queti, wth an apolgy for digressing. No, I have not be able Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 315 to dispose of Mr. Jack Maldon yet. I believe,’ he said this with some hsitation, ‘I pentrate your motive, and it makes th thing more difficult.’ ‘My motive,’ returnd Doctor Strong, ‘is to make some suitable provision for a cous, and an old playfe, of Annie’s.’ ‘Yes, I kn,’ said Mr. Wickfield; ‘at hoe or abroad.’ ‘Aye!’ replied th Doctor, apparently wonderig why he phasized th words so much. ‘At ho or abroad.’ ‘Your own expression, you know,’ said Mr. Wickfid. ‘Or abroad.’ ‘Surely,’ the Doctor anered. ‘Surely. One or other.’ ‘On or other? Have you no choic?’ asked Mr. Wikfied. ‘No,’ returned the Doctor. ‘No?’ with astoshment. ‘Not the least.’ ‘No motive,’ said Mr. Wickfield, ‘for meang abroad, and nt at home?’ ‘No,’ returned the Doctor. ‘I am bound to beeve you, and of cours I do beeve you,’ said Mr. Wickfid. ‘It mght have simplified my office very much, if I had known it before. But I cofe I entertaid another impresion.’ Doctor Strong regarded hm wth a puzzled and doubting look, wich almost immediatey subsided into a smile that gave me great encuragemet; for it was full of amabity and seetn, and thre was a simplicity in it, and indeed in his wh manner, when the studius, poderig frost upon it was got through, very attractive and hopeful to a young schoar like me. Repeatig ‘n’, and ‘not the last’, and other short asurances to the sam Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 316 purport, Dotor Strong jogged on before us, at a queer, uneve pace; and we fod: Mr. Wickfid, looking grave, I observed, and shakig his head to himelf, without knowing that I saw him The schoolroom was a pretty large hall, on the quietest sde of the house, cofroted by the stately stare of so half-dozen of the great urns, and candig a pep of an old seuded garde begig to the Dotor, where the peaches were ripening o the suny suth wal There were two great aloes, in tubs, on the turf outsde the widows; the broad hard leaves of w plant (lkig as if thy were made of paited ti) have ever si, by assocation, be symboical to me of silen and retirement. bout five-and-twenty boys were studiusy engaged at their books when we went in, but they rose to give the Dotor good mrng, and reaied standig when they saw Mr. Wikfield and me. ‘A new boy, young gentlemen,’ said th Doctor; ‘Trotwd Cpperfield.’ On Adam, who was the head-boy, then stepped out of his plac and welcomd me. He looked like a young crgyman, i h white cravat, but he was very affable and good-humoured; and he shod me my plac, and preted me to th masters, in a gentlmanly way that would have put me at my eas, if anything could. It seemed to m so lg, however, sie I had been amg suc boys, or among any companion of my own age, except Mick Walker and Mealy Potato, that I felt as strange as ever I have done in my life. I was so conscious of having passed through scenes of which thy could have no knledge, and of having acquired experices foreign to my age, appearance, and Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 317 condition as on of th, that I half believed it was an imposture to c there as an ordiary little schoolboy. I had be, in the Murdstone and Griby tim, however short or log it may have been, s unused to the sports and gam of boys, that I knew I was awkward and ixpericed in th commonest things belongig to th Whatever I had learnt, had so slipped away fro me in th rdid cares of my lfe from day to night, that now, when I was xamd about what I kn, I kn nothing, and was put into the lwest form of the school. But, troubled as I was, by my want of boyish skill, and of bok-larning to, I was made infinitely more unmfortabl by th consideration, that, in what I did know, I was much farthr removed fro my copanions than in wat I did not. My mind ran upo what thy would think, if thy knew of my familiar acquaintance with th King’s Bench Pri? Was thre anythng about me which would reveal my prodings i nnexi with th Micawber family—al th pawngs, and seings, and suppers—in spite of myself? Suppose some of th boys had seen m cog through Canterbury, wayworn and ragged, and should find me out? What would thy say, w made so light of money, if thy could kn ho I had scraped my halfpee together, for the purchas of my daiy savey and beer, or my slices of puddig? Ho would it affect th, wh were so innocent of London life, and London strets, to discover ho knowing I was (and was ashamed to be) in some of th meant phas of both? Al this ran in my head s muc, on that first day at Doctor Strong’s, that I felt ditrustful of my slghtest look and gesture; shrunk within myself whsoever I was approached by one of my new shoolfellows; and hurried off the miute school was over, afraid of comitting myself in my respon to any Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 318 friendly notice or advan But thre was such an influe in Mr. Wickfid’s od huse, that when I knked at it, with my nw school-books under my arm, I began to fe my unasiness softeg away. As I went up to y airy old room, the grave shadow of the staircase seemed to fal upo my doubts and fears, and to make th past more indistict. I sat thre, sturdily conning my boks, until dinr-time (w wre out of school for good at three); and went down, hopeful of beng a passable sort of boy yet. gn was in the drawg-room, waitig for her father, who was detaid by someo in his office. She met me with her plasant se, and asked m how I liked the school. I told her I should like t very muc, I hoped; but I was a little strange to it at first. ‘You have never been to school,’ I said, ‘have you?’ ‘Oh yes! Every day.’ ‘Ah, but you mean here, at your own home?’ ‘Papa culdn’t spare m to go anywhere els,’ she anered, smilg and shaking her head. ‘His housekeeper must be in hi house, you know.’ ‘He is very fond of you, I am sure,’ I said. She ndded ‘Yes,’ and wt to the door to liten for his cog up, that sh might met him on the stairs. But, as he was nt there, se cam back agai ‘Mama has be dead ever sie I was born,’ she said, in her quiet way. ‘I only kn hr picture, dowstairs. I saw you lookig at it yesterday. Did you think wh it was?’ I told her yes, becaus it was so like hersf. ‘Papa says so, to,’ said Agnes, plased. ‘Hark! That’s papa now!’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 319 Her bright calm face lghted up with pleasure as she went to eet hi, and as they cam in, hand in hand. He greeted me rdially; and told me I should certaiy be happy under Doctor Strong, who was one of the gentlt of men. ‘Thre may be some, perhaps—I don’t know that thre are— w abus his kidnss,’ said Mr. Wikfid. ‘Never be o of th, Trotwd, in anythng. He is th least suspicious of mankid; and whether that’s a merit, or whether it’s a blemih, it deserve consideration in all dealings with th Doctor, great or small.’ He spoke, I thught, as if he were weary, or dissatisfied with thing; but I did not pursue the question in my mind, for dinner was just then annund, and we went down and took the same seats as before We had scarcely done so, wh Uriah Hep put in hs red had and his lank hand at th door, and said: ‘Here’s Mr. Maldo begs the favour of a word, sir.’ ‘I am but this moment quit of Mr. Maldon,’ said his master. ‘Yes, sir,’ returnd Uriah; ‘but Mr. Maldo has come back, and he begs the favour of a word.’ As he held the door open with hi hand, Uriah looked at me, and looked at Agn, and looked at the di, and looked at the plates, and looked at every object in th room, I thought,—yet sed to look at nthing; he made suc an appearance al th while of keeping his red eye dutifuly o h master. ‘I beg your pardo. It’s ony to say, o reflecti,’ observed a voice bed Uriah, as Uriah’s head was pushed away, and th speaker’s substituted—‘pray excuse me for this intrusion—that as it se I have no choic in the matter, the sooner I go abroad the better. My cousin Annie did say, w we talked of it, that she Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 320 lked to have her frieds within reach rather than to have them banished, and th old Doctor—’ ‘Doctor Strong, was that?’ Mr. Wikfied interposed, gravey. ‘Doctor Strog, of course,’ returned the othr; ‘I cal hm the od Doctor; it’s al the same, you kn.’ ‘I don’t know,’ returned Mr. Wikfied. ‘Well, Doctor Strong,’ said the other—‘Doctor Strong was of the same mind, I believed. But as it appears fro th course you take with m he has changed his md, why there’s no more to be said, excpt that the sooner I am off, the better. Therefore, I thought I’d c back and say, that the sooner I am off the better. Wh a plunge i to be made into the water, it’s of n use lgerig o the bank.’ ‘Thre shall be as littl lingerig as possible, in your case, Mr. Maldo, you may depend upo it,’ said Mr. Wickfield. ‘Thank’e,’ said the other. ‘Much obliged. I do’t want to look a gift-horse in the mouth, whic is not a gracus thing to do; othrwise, I dare say, my cous Annie could easly arrange it in her own way. I suppo Annie would ony have to say to the old Doctor—’ ‘Meaning that Mrs Strong would only have to say to her husband—do I fo you?’ said Mr. Wickfid. ‘Quite so,’ returned the other, ‘—would only have to say, that she wanted such and such a thing to be so and so; and it would be so and so, as a matter of course.’ ‘And why as a matter of course, Mr. Maldo?’ asked Mr. Wikfield, sedatey eatig his dier. ‘Why, becaus Annie’s a charmng young girl, and th old Doctor—Dotor Strong, I mean—is not quite a charming young Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 321 boy,’ said Mr. Jack Maldo, laughing. ‘No offence to anybody, Mr. Wickfid. I only mean that I suppo some compesati is fair and reasonable in that sort of marriage’ ‘Compensation to the lady, sir?’ asked Mr. Wickfield gravey. ‘To the lady, sir,’ Mr. Jack Maldo answered, laughg. But appearig to remark that Mr. Wikfied went on with his dir i the sam sedate, ivable maner, and that there was no hope of makig hi relax a mus of his fac, he added: ‘However, I have said what I cam to say, and, with another apoogy for this intrusion, I may take myself off. Of course I shall observe your directins, in coderig the matter as one to be arranged betwee you and me soy, and nt to be referred to, up at the Doctor’s.’ ‘Have you dined?’ asked Mr. Wickfid, with a moti of hi hand towards the table ‘Thank’ee. I am gog to dine,’ said Mr. Maldo, ‘with my cousin Annie Good-bye!’ Mr. Wickfid, withut rising, looked after hm thughtfully as h went out. He was rathr a shallow sort of young gentleman, I thought, with a hands fac, a rapid utterance, and a cfidet, bod air. Ad this was the first I ever saw of Mr. Jack Maldo; whom I had nt expeted to see s soon, when I heard the Doctor speak of him that mrnig. When we had did, we wet upstairs agai, were everythig went on exactly as on the previus day. Agn set the glas and decanters in th same cornr, and Mr. Wickfid sat dow to drik, and drank a god deal Agnes played th piano to him, sat by him, and wrked and talked, and played some games at dominoe with me. In god time she made tea; and afterwards, w I brought Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 322 do my books, looked into them, and showed me what she knew of th (wich was no slight matter, thugh she said it was), and what was the bet way to learn and understand them I s her, wth her modest, orderly, placid manner, and I har hr beautiful calm voice, as I write th words. Th influence for all god, wich she came to exercise over me at a later time, begins already to descend upo my breast. I love littl Em’ly, and I don’t love Agnes—no, not at all in that way—but I fe that thre are goodn, peace, and truth, wherever Agn is; and that the sft light of th coloured wido in th church, see long ago, fals o her always, and on m when I am near her, and on everything around. The tim having co for her withdrawal for the night, and s aving left us, I gave Mr. Wickfid my hand, preparatory to going away myself. But he cheked me and said: ‘Shuld you like to stay wth us, Trotwd, or to go elsewhere?’ ‘To stay,’ I answered, quickly. ‘You are sure?’ ‘If you please. If I may!’ ‘Why, it’s but a dul lfe that we lead hre, boy, I am afraid,’ h said. ‘Not more dul for me than Agns, sir. Not dul at al!’ ‘Than Agn,’ he repeated, walkig slowly to the great cypiece, and leaning against it. ‘Than Agnes!’ He had drank w that evenig (or I fand it), unti his eyes were bloodshot. Not that I culd s them now, for they were cast dow, and shaded by his hand; but I had noticed th a littl whil before. ‘Now I wonder,’ he muttered, ‘whether my Agn tires of me Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 323 Wh suld I ever tire of her! But that’s differet, that’s quite different.’ He was musing, not speaking to me; so I reaid quiet. ‘A dull old house,’ he said, ‘and a monotonous lfe; but I must have her near me I must keep her nar m If the thought that I may die and leave my darling, or that my darling may die and leave me, comes lke a spetre, to distress my happiest hours, and i only to be drowned in—’ He did nt supply the word; but pacg slowly to the plac where he had sat, and meanaly going through the action of pouring wi fro th empty decanter, set it dow and paced back again. ‘If it is miserabl to bear, wh she is hre,’ h said, ‘what wuld it be, and she away? No, n, no I cant try that.’ He leand against th chiy-piece, broding so long that I could not decide whthr to run th risk of disturbing him by going, or to remai quietly where I was, until he should co out of his reverie. At legth he aroused himf, and looked about the room until his eyes enuntered m ‘Stay with us, Trotwood, eh?’ he said in his usual manr, and as if he were answerig somethg I had just said. ‘I am glad of it. You are cpany to us both. It is wholese to have you here. Wholese for m, wholese for Agn, wholes perhaps for al of us.’ ‘I am sure it is for me, sir,’ I said. ‘I am so glad to be here.’ ‘That’s a fi fellow!’ said Mr. Wickfid. ‘As long as you are glad to be here, you shal stay here.’ He shook hands with m upo it, and clapped me on th back; and told me that wh I had anythng to do at night after Agnes had left us, or w I wshed to Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 324 read for my own plasure, I was free to c down to hi room, if h were thre and if I desired it for company’s sake, and to sit wth m. I thanked him for his consideration; and, as he went dow oon afterwards, and I was nt tired, went down too, with a book i my hand, to avai mysf, for half-an-hour, of his permon. But, seg a light in the little round offic, and idiatey feeg mysf attracted towards Uriah Heep, who had a sort of fascinati for me, I went in thre instead. I found Uriah readig a great fat book, with suc detrative attentin, that hi lank forefinger followd up every line as he read, and made clammy tracks along th page (or so I fuly believed) like a snai ‘You are workig late tonight, Uriah,’ says I. ‘Yes, Master Copperfield,’ says Uriah. A I was getting on the stool oppote, to talk to him more conveiently, I observed that he had not such a thing as a s about him, and that he could only wide his muth and make two hard creases dow his cheks, on on each side, to stand for on ‘I am nt doig office-wrk, Master Copperfield,’ said Uriah ‘What work, then?’ I asked. ‘I am improving my legal knowledge, Master Copperfield,’ said Uriah. ‘I am going through Tidd’s Practic Oh, what a writer Mr. Tidd is, Master Copperfield!’ My sto was such a tor of observation, that as I watcd hi reading on again, after this rapturous exclamation, and foing up th lines with his forefinger, I observed that hs nostrils, wich wre thin and poited, with sharp dints in th, had a singular and most unmfortabl way of expandig and contractig themsves—that they seemed to twkle intead of hi eyes, w hardly ever twkled at al Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 325 ‘I suppose you are quite a great lawyer?’ I said, after looking at hm for some time. ‘Me, Master Copperfield?’ said Uriah. ‘Oh, no! I’m a very umbl pers.’ It was no fany of mne about his hands, I observed; for he frequently ground th palms against each othr as if to squeze th dry and warm, besdes often wiping th, i a stealthy way, o his pocket-handkerchief. ‘I am well aware that I am th umblest pers going,’ said Uriah Heep, mdetly; ‘let the other be where he may. My mther is likew a very umbl pers We live in a numble abode, Master Copperfield, but have much to be thankful for. My fathr’s formr callg was umbl He was a sexto.’ ‘What is he nw?’ I asked. ‘He is a partaker of glry at pret, Master Copperfield,’ said Uriah Hep. ‘But we have muc to be thankful for. Ho muc ave I to be thankful for in livig with Mr. Wickfield!’ I asked Uriah if he had bee with Mr. Wickfid long? ‘I have be with him, gog on four year, Master Copperfield,’ said Uriah; shutting up his bok, after carefully markig th place were he had lft off. ‘Si a year after my father’s death. How muc have I to be thankful for, in that! How muc have I to be thankful for, in Mr. Wikfied’s kid intenti to give m my articles, which would othrwise not lay within th umbl means of mothr and self!’ ‘Thn, wh your articled time is over, you’ll be a regular lawyer, I suppo?’ said I. ‘With th blssing of Providence, Master Copperfield,’ returnd Uriah. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 326 ‘Perhaps you’l be a partner in Mr. Wickfid’s business, o of the days,’ I said, to make mysf agreeable; ‘and it w be Wikfield and Heep, or Heep late Wikfied.’ ‘Oh no, Master Copperfield,’ returnd Uriah, shakig his head, ‘I am much to umble for that!’ He certainly did look unmmonly like th carved face on th beam outside my window, as he sat, in his humility, eyeing m sideways, with his mouth widened, and th creass in hi cheks. ‘Mr. Wickfid is a most excellent man, Master Copperfield,’ said Uriah. ‘If you have known him log, you know it, I am sure, muc better than I can inform you.’ I replied that I was certain he was; but that I had not kn m long myself, thugh he was a friend of my aunt’s ‘Oh, inded, Master Copperfid,’ said Uriah ‘Your aunt is a swet lady, Master Copperfield!’ He had a way of writhig when he wanted to expres thusiasm, which was very ugly; and which diverted my attention fro th compliment he had paid my relati, to th snaky twistings of his throat and body. ‘A swet lady, Master Copperfield!’ said Uriah Hep. ‘Sh has a great admration for Mi Agn, Master Copperfid, I beeve?’ I said, ‘Yes,’ bodly; not that I knew anythg about it, Heaven forgive me! ‘I hope you have, to, Master Copperfield,’ said Uriah ‘But I am sure you must have.’ ‘Everybody must have,’ I returned. ‘Oh, thank you, Master Copperfield,’ said Uriah Hep, ‘for that remark! It is so true! Umbl as I am, I know it i so true! Oh, thank you, Master Copperfield!’ He writhd himsef quite off his sto in Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 327 the exctet of his feegs, and, beg off, began to make arrangets for going home ‘Mothr wll be expecting me,’ he said, referring to a pale, inexpresive-faced watc in his pocket, ‘and getting unasy; for though we are very umble, Master Copperfid, w are muc attaced to one another. If you would co and see us, any aftern, and take a cup of tea at our lowy dweng, mothr would be as proud of your copany as I should be’ I said I should be glad to come. ‘Thank you, Master Copperfield,’ returnd Uriah, putting hi bok away upo th shef—‘I suppose you stop hre, some time, Master Copperfield?’ I said I was going to be brought up there, I believed, as log as I remaied at shool. you would come ‘Oh, inded!’ exclaid Uriah. ‘I should think into th busine at last, Master Copperfield!’ I proteted that I had no vis of that sort, and that no such sche was entertained in my bealf by anybody; but Uriah insisted on blandly replying to all my assurances, ‘Oh, yes, Master Cpperfield, I should thk you would, indeed!’ and, ‘Oh, ideed, Master Cpperfield, I should thk you would, certainly!’ over and over agai Beig, at last, ready to leave the offic for the nght, he asked me if it would suit my conveience to have th light put out; and on my anerig ‘Yes,’ intantly extiguised it. After shaking hands with me—his hand felt like a fish, i th dark—h opened the door into the street a very little, and crept out, and sut it, leavig me to grope my way back into the house: whic st me some troubl and a fal over his sto This was th proximate caus, I suppose, of my dreamng about hm, for wat Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 328 appeared to me to be half the night; and dreamg, amg other things, that he had laund Mr. Peggotty’s house on a piratial xpediti, with a black flag at th masthad, bearig th inscription ‘Tidd’s Practice’, under wich diaboical esign h was arrying me and little Em’ly to the Spanih Mai, to be drowned. I got a lttle the better of my uneas when I went to school nxt day, and a good deal the better next day, and s shook it off by degree, that in le than a fortnight I was quite at home, and happy, amg my new companions. I was awkward eugh in thr games, and backward enugh in thr studies; but custo uld improve me in th first respect, I hoped, and hard work in the sd. Ardigly, I went to work very hard, both in play and in earnt, and gaied great codati Ad, i a very littl wile, th Murdsto and Grinby life became so strange to that I hardly beeved in it, whe my preent life grew s familiar, that I seed to have bee leadig it a long time. Doctor Strong’s was an exceent school; as different from Mr. Creakle’s as god is fro evil. It was very gravey and decorously ordered, and on a sound syste; with an appeal, in everythng, to the honour and good faith of the boys, and an avowed intentin to rely on thr possession of th qualities unles thy proved thlve unrthy of it, which worked wonders. We all felt that w had a part in th management of th place, and in sustaining its character and dignity. He, we soo became warmly attached to it—I am sure I did for on, and I never knew, in all my time, of any other boy beg otherwis—and learnt with a good wil, desirig to do it credit. We had nobl games out of hurs, and plenty of liberty; but even then, as I reber, we were we spoken of in th to, and rarely did any disgrac, by our Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 329 appearance or manr, to th reputati of Doctor Strong and Doctor Strog’s boys So of the higher scholars boarded i the Doctor’s house, and through th I learnd, at second hand, some particulars of th Doctor’s history—as, how he had nt yet been married twelve mths to the beautiful young lady I had s i the study, whom h had marrid for love; for she had not a sixpen, and had a world of poor relations (so our fellows said) ready to sarm the Doctor out of house and home. Al, how the Doctor’s cgitating manr was attributabl to his beg always egaged i lookig out for Grek rots; which, in my innocen and ignorance, I supposed to be a botanical furor on th Doctor’s part, especially as he always looked at the ground when he walked about, until I understood that they were roots of words, with a vie to a n Dictionary which he had in conteplation. Adams, our had-boy, w had a turn for mathatics, had made a calculation, I was informd, of th time this Dictionary wuld take in completing, o th Doctor’s plan, and at th Doctor’s rate of going. He considered that it might be done in on thusand six hundred and forty-n years, counting fro th Doctor’s last, or sixty-sd, birthday. But the Doctor hielf was the idol of the whole school: and it must have be a badly copoed school if he had been anything e, for h was th kindet of men; with a simple faith in him that mght have touched the stone hearts of the very urns upon the wal A he walked up and down that part of the courtyard whic as at th side of th house, wth th stray roks and jackdaw ookig after him with their heads coked syly, as if they kn much more knowg thy were in wrldly affairs than h, if any srt of vagabod culd only get near enough to his creakig Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 330 shos to attract his attention to on sentece of a tale of distress, that vagabond was made for the next two days. It was so ntorious in th house, that th masters and had-boys tok pais to cut thes marauders off at angle, and to get out of windows, and turn them out of the curtyard, before they could make the Dotor aware of thr prece; which was sometimes happily effected within a few yards of him, without his knowing anything of the matter, as he jogged to and fro. Outside his own doai, and unprotected, he was a very sheep for the shearers. He wuld have taken his gaiters off his legs, to give away. In fact, thre was a story current amg us (I have no idea, and nver had, on what authrity, but I have believed it for so many years that I fe quite certain it is true), that on a froty day, on wnter-time, h actually did besto his gaiters on a beggar-wman, wh ocasioned some sandal i the nghbourhood by exhibiting a fine infant from door to door, wrapped in th garmts, wich wre universally recgnized, beg as well known in the victy as the Cathedral. The legend added that the only person who did nt idetify them was the Doctor himelf, who, when they were shortly afterwards diplayed at the door of a lttle sed-hand shop of n very good repute, where suc things were taken in excange for gin, was more than once observed to handle th approvingly, as if admiring some curius novelty in th pattern, and conidering them an iprovemet on his own. It was very pleasant to see th Doctor with his pretty young wfe. He had a fatherly, begnant way of showig his fondn for hr, which seed in itself to expres a god man. I often saw them walkig in the garde where the peaches were, and I sometimes had a nearer observation of th in th study or th Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 331 parlour. Sh appeared to me to take great care of the Dotor, and to like him very muc, though I never thought her vitaly interested in th Dictionary: some cumbrous fragments of wich wrk th Doctor always carrid in his pockets, and in th lining of hi hat, and genrally sed to be expoundig to her as they walked about. I saw a good deal of Mrs. Strong, both beause she had take a lkig for me on the morning of my itroduction to the Dotor, and was alays afterwards kind to me, and interested in me; and becaus she was very fond of Agnes, and was often backwards and forwards at our house. Thre was a curius constraint betw her and Mr. Wikfied, I thought (of whom se seemed to be afraid), that nver wore off. When she cam there of an evenig, she always shrunk fro acceptig his escort ho, and ran away wth me instead. Ad sometimes, as we were running gaily across the Cathedral yard together, expetig to met nobody, we would meet Mr. Jack Maldo, wh was always surprised to see us Mrs. Strong’s mama was a lady I took great delight in Her nam was Mrs. Marklham; but our boys used to cal her the Old Soldier, o account of her geralip, and th skill with which s marshalld great force of relatio agait the Dotor. Sh as a lttle, sarp-eyed wan, who used to wear, when she was dred, on unchangeable cap, ornamented wth some artificial flrs, and tw artificial butterflies supposed to be hovering above the flowers There was a superstitio among us that this cap had com fro France, and could only originate i th workmanship of that ingenious nation: but al I crtaiy know about it, i, that it alays made its appearance of an eveing, whereoever Mrs. Marklham made her appearance; that it was Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 332 carried about to friedly metigs in a Hindoo basket; that the butterfli had the gift of tremblg cotantly; and that they improved th shiing hours at Doctor Strong’s expense, like busy bees. I obsrved the Old Soldir—nt to adopt the nam disrepectfully—to pretty god advantage, on a nght wich is made memorabl to me by somethg el I shal relate. It was th ght of a little party at the Dotor’s, whic was given on the occason of Mr. Jack Maldo’s departure for India, whither he was going as a cadet, or sthing of that kid: Mr. Wikfied having at length arranged th business. It happened to be th Doctor’s birthday, too. We had had a holday, had made preents to him in the mornig, had made a speh to him through the head-boy, and had cheered him until we were hoarse, and until he had sed tears. Ad now, in th eveg, Mr. Wickfid, Agnes, and I, went to have tea with him in his private capacty. Mr. Jack Maldo was there, before us. Mrs. Strong, dred i white, with chrry-coloured ribbo, was playig the piano, when we went in; and he was lanig over her to turn the leave The clear red and white of her complexi was not so bling and flower-lke as usual, I thought, when she turned round; but s ooked very pretty, Woderfully pretty. ‘I have forgotte, Doctor,’ said Mrs Strog’s mama, wh w were seated, ‘to pay you the coplts of the day—though they are, as you may suppo, very far fro being mere compliments in my case. Allow me to wish you many happy returns.’ ‘I thank you, ma’am,’ replied the Doctor. ‘Many, many, many, happy returns,’ said the Old Soldier. ‘Not only for your own sake, but for Annie’s, and Jo Maldon’s, and Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 333 many other peopl’s It seems but yesterday to me, John, when you were a little creature, a head shorter than Master Cpperfied, makig baby lve to Ane bed the gooseberry bus in th back-garden’ ‘My dear mama,’ said Mrs. Strog, ‘never mind that n’ ‘Anie, don’t be absurd,’ returned her mother. ‘If you are to blush to hear of suc things nw you are an old married woman, when are you not to blush to hear of them?’ ‘Old?’ exclaimed Mr. Jack Maldo. ‘Aie? Com!’ ‘Yes, Jo,’ returned the Soldier. ‘Virtualy, an od married wman. Althugh not old by years—for w did you ever har m say, or who has ever heard me say, that a girl of twenty was old by years!—your cousin is th wife of th Doctor, and, as such, wat I have described hr. It is we for you, Jo, that your cousin is the wife of the Doctor. You have found in him an ifluential and kind frind, who will be kider yet, I venture to predict, if you deserve it. I have no fal pride I never hesitate to admit, frankly, that there are so mebers of our famy who want a frid. You wre o yourself, before your cousin’s influence raised up on for you.’ The Doctor, in the goodn of his heart, waved hi hand as if to make lght of it, and save Mr. Jack Maldo from any further remnder. But Mrs. Marklham canged her cair for one nxt the Doctor’s, and putting her fan on his coat-sleeve, said: ‘No, really, my dear Doctor, you must excuse me if I appear to dwell o this rathr, becaus I fe so very strongly. I cal it quite my monomania, it is such a subjet of mine. You are a blsing to us. You realy are a Boon, you know.’ ‘Nonnse, nonsen,’ said th Doctor. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 334 ‘No, no, I beg your pardo,’ retorted the Old Soldier. ‘With nobody pret, but our dear and confidetial friend Mr. Wikfied, I cant cot to be put down. I shall begin to assrt the privieges of a mther-i-law, if you go on lke that, and scold you. I am perfetly hot and outspoken What I am saying, i at I said wh you first overpowred me wth surprise—you remember ho surprised I was?—by propoing for Anie. Not that there was anything so very muc out of the way, in the mre fact of th propoal—it would be ridiculous to say that!—but beause, you having known her poor father, and having known her from a baby six moths old, I hadn’t thought of you i suc a lght at all, or inded as a marrying man in any way,—sply that, you know.’ ‘Aye, aye,’ returned the Doctor, god-humuredly. ‘Never mind.’ ‘But I do mind,’ said th Old Soldier, laying her fan upo hi lips. ‘I mind very much. I real th things that I may be tradited if I am wrong. We! Then I spoke to Ae, and I tod her what had happed. I said, “My dear, here’s Doctor Strong has postively be and made you th subjet of a handsome declaration and an offer.” Did I pres it in th least? No. I said, “Now, Annie, tell me the truth this mt; i your heart free?” “Mama,” she said cryig, “I am extremely young”—which was perfectly true—“and I hardly know if I have a heart at al” “Then, my dear,” I said, “you may rey upo it, it’s free. At al events, my love,” said I, “Dotor Strong is in an agitated state of mind, and must be answered. He cant be kept in his pret state of suspense.” “Mama,” said Annie, still crying, “would h be unhappy without me? If he would, I honour and respect hi so Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 335 muc, that I think I wil have him” So it was sttled. And then, and not ti th, I said to Annie, “Annie, Doctor Strong w not only be your husband, but he wil repret your late father: he wil represt the head of our famy, he will represt the wisdom and station, and I may say th means, of our famly; and wi be, in hort, a Boon to it.” I used the word at the tim, and I have used it agai, today. If I have any merit it is coteny.’ Th daughter had sat quite silent and still during this speech, with her eyes fixed on the ground; her cousi standig nar her, and lookig on the ground too. She nw said very sftly, i a tremblg voic: ‘Mama, I hope you have finisd?’ ‘No, my dear Annie,’ returnd th Old Soldier, ‘I have not quite not. I fid. Since you ask me, my love, I reply that I have cplai that you realy are a lttle unnatural towards your own family; and, as it is of no us complaig to you. I mean to mplai to your husband. Now, my dear Doctor, do look at that silly wife of yours.’ As th Doctor turnd his kind face, with its smile of siplicity and gentl, towards her, she drooped her head mre. I noticd that Mr. Wikfied looked at her steadiy. ‘When I happed to say to that naughty thing, the other day,’ pursued her mother, shakig her head and her fan at her, playfuly, ‘that thre was a famly circumstance sh might mention to you—indeed, I think, was bound to mention—she said, that to mention it was to ask a favour; and that, as you were to gerous, and as for her to ask was alays to have, she wouldn’t.’ ‘Anie, my dear,’ said the Doctor. ‘That was wrog. It robbed me of a plasure.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 336 ‘Almost the very words I said to her!’ excaid her mother. ‘Now realy, another tim, when I know what she would tell you but for this reason, and won’t, I have a great mind, my dear Doctor, to tell you myself.’ ‘I shall be glad if you will,’ returnd th Doctor. ‘Shal I?’ ‘Certaiy.’ ‘Wel, th, I wi!’ said th Old Soldier. ‘That’s a bargain.’ Ad having, I suppose, carrid hr point, she tapped th Doctor’s hand sveral tim with her fan (whic sh kid first), and returned triumphantly to her formr station. Some more company coming in, among wh were th tw masters and Adams, th talk became geral; and it naturaly turned on Mr. Jack Maldo, and his voyage, and the country he was going to, and his varius plans and propects. He was to leave that night, after supper, in a post-cai, for Graved; whre th ship, i which he was to make th voyage, lay; and was to be gone—un he cam home on leave, or for his health—I do’t know h many years. I rellect it was settld by geral cont that India was quite a misreprented country, and had nothing objectinable i it, but a tiger or two, and a lttle heat i the warm part of the day. For my own part, I looked on Mr. Jack Maldo as a modern Sindbad, and pictured him th bosom friend of al th Rajah in th East, sitting under canopi, smokig curly golden pipes—a mile long, if thy could be straighted out. Mrs. Strong was a very pretty siger: as I kn, who often ard her singing by hersf. But, whthr she was afraid of singing before people, or was out of voice that eveing, it was certain that she couldn’t sing at all. She tried a duet, oce, wth Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 337 hr cousin Maldon, but could not so much as begin; and afterwards, when s tried to sig by hersef, although sh began swetly, her voice died away on a sudden, and left hr quite ditressd, with her head hangig down over the keys. The good Doctor said she was nervous, and, to reve hr, propod a round game at cards; of which he kn as much as of th art of playing the trombo But I remarked that the Old Soldir took hi into custody directly, for her partner; and intructed him, as the first preiminary of initiati, to give her all th silver he had in hi pocket. We had a merry game, not made th les merry by th Doctor’s mistake, of which he committed an innumerabl quantity, in spite of the watchfuln of the butterfli, and to their great aggravati Mrs. Strong had ded to play, on the ground of not feg very well; and her cousin Maldo had excused hmself becaus h had some packing to do. Whe he had done it, however, he returned, and they sat together, talkig, on the sofa. From tim to tim she cam and looked over the Doctor’s hand, and told him what to play. She was very pale, as she bent over hi, and I thought her finger trembld as sh poted out the cards; but th Doctor was quite happy in her attention, and tok no notice of this, if it were so. At supper, we were hardly so gay. Everyo appeared to fe that a partig of that sort was an awkward thing, and that th arer it approached, th more awkward it was. Mr. Jack Maldon tried to be very talkative, but was not at hi eas, and made atters worse And they were not improved, as it appeared to m, by th Old Soldier: w contiually reald passage of Mr. Jack Maldo’s youth Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 338 The Doctor, however, who felt, I am sure, that he was makig everybody happy, was we plased, and had no suspicion but that we were al at the utmot height of enjoyment. ‘Anni, my dear,’ said he, lookig at his watch, and filg his glass, ‘it i past your cousin jack’s time, and we must not detai m, since time and tide—both conrned in this case—wait for no man. Mr. Jack Maldon, you have a long voyage, and a strange untry, before you; but many men have had both, and many men wil have both, to the ed of tim The winds you are going to tempt, have wafted thousands upon thousands to fortune, and brought thusands upo thusands happily back.’ ‘It’s an affectig thing,’ said Mrs. Markleham—‘hover it’s viewed, it’s affectig, to see a fin young man one has known from an ifant, going away to the other end of the world, lavig al he knows bend, and not knowing what’s before him A young man really we deserve contant support and patroage,’ looking at th Doctor, ‘wh makes such sacrifices.’ ‘Time w go fast wth you, Mr. Jack Maldo,’ pursued th Doctor, ‘and fast wth all of us Some of us can hardly expect, perhaps, i the natural course of things, to greet you on your return. The nxt bet thing is to hope to do it, and that’s my cas I sal not weary you with good advic You have long had a good mde before you, in your cusi Ane. Imitate her virtues as arly as you can.’ Mrs. Marklam fanned hersef, and shook her head. ‘Farel, Mr. Jack,’ said th Doctor, standing up; on which we all stod up. ‘A prosperous voyage out, a thriving carer abroad, and a happy return ho!’ We al drank the toast, and al shook hands with Mr. Jack Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 339 Maldo; after whic he hastiy took leave of the ladi who were there, and hurried to the door, where he was reved, as he got into th chaise, wth a tredous broadside of chers discharged by our boys, who had asbld on the lawn for the purpose. Rung i amg them to swl the ranks, I was very near the chaise wh it rolled away; and I had a lvely impression made upo me, in th midst of th noise and dust, of having see Mr. Jack Maldon rattl past with an agitated face, and somethg cherry-cured in his hand. fter another broadsde for the Doctor, and another for the Doctor’s wfe, th boys dispersd, and I went back into th house, where I found the guests al standig i a group about the Dotor, discussing ho Mr. Jack Maldon had go away, and ho h had borne it, and how he had felt it, and al the rest of it. In the mdst of thes remarks, Mrs. Marklham crid: ‘Where’s Annie?’ No Ae was there; and when they caled to her, no An replied. But all presing out of th ro, in a crod, to see what was the matter, we found her lyig on the hall floor. There was great alarm at first, until it was found that sh was in a soon, and that the soon was yiedig to the usual mean of recvery; when the Doctor, who had lifted her head upon his knee, put her curls aside with hi hand, and said, lokig around: ‘Poor Ae! She’s s faithful and teder-hearted! It’s th parting fro her old playfe and friend—her favourite cous— that has done this. Ah! It’s a pity! I am very sorry!’ When she opened her eyes, and saw were se was, and that w were all standing about her, she aro with assistance: turning hr head, as she did so, to lay it on th Doctor’s shoulder—or to de it, I do’t know whic We went into the drawg-room, to Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 340 lave her with the Doctor and her mther; but se said, it seemed, that sh was better than s had be si morning, and that sh would rather be brought among us; so they brought her i, lookig very white and weak, I thught, and sat her on a sofa. ‘Annie, my dear,’ said her mothr, doing something to her dres ‘See here! You have lot a bo Wi anybody be so good as find a ribbo; a crry-coloured ribbo?’ It was the one she had worn at her bo We al looked for it; I myself looked everywre, I am certain—but nobody could find it. ‘Do you rellect whre you had it last, Annie?’ said her mothr. I wondered how I could have thought she looked white, or anythig but burng red, w she anered that se had had it safe, a lttle whil ago, s thought, but it was not worth lookig for. Neverthless, it was looked for again, and stil not found. She treated that there might be no mre sarcg; but it was sti sought for, in a desultory way, until she was quite we, and th mpany tok thr departure We walked very sly ho, Mr. Wikfid, Agn, and I— Agnes and I admiring th mooght, and Mr. Wickfid scarcely raig his eyes from the ground. Wh we, at last, reached our on door, Agnes discovered that she had left her littl reticule bend. Deghted to be of any servic to her, I ran back to fetch it. I wnt into th supper-ro whre it had be left, which was deserted and dark. But a door of communicati betw that and the Doctor’s study, where there was a light, beg ope, I pased on there, to say what I wanted, and to get a candl Th Doctor was sitting in his easy-cair by th fireside, and h Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 341 young wife was on a stool at his feet. The Doctor, with a complacent sile, was reading alud some manuscript explanati or statet of a theory out of that itermiabl Dictionary, and she was looking up at hi But with such a face as I never saw. It was so beautiful in its form, it was so ashy pale, it was so fixed in its abstraction, it was so full of a wild, sleepwalkig, dreamy horror of I do’t know what. The eye were wide open, and her brown hair fell in two ric clusters on her shoulders, and on her wte dres, dirdered by the want of the lot ribbon. Distinctly as I ret hr look, I cant say of what it was xpressive, I cannot eve say of what it is expreve to me now, rising again before my older judget. Penite, humliation, same, pride, lve, and trustfuln—I see them al; and i them all, I see that horror of I don’t know what. My entrance, and my saying what I wanted, rousd hr. It disturbed th Doctor to, for wh I went back to replace th andl I had take from the table, he was patting her head, in his fatherly way, and saying he was a merci drone to lt her tempt hi into readig on; and he would have her go to bed. But she asked hi, in a rapid, urgent manr, to let her stay— to lt her fee asured (I heard her murmur so broke words to this effect) that she was in his confidece that night. And, as she turned again towards him, after glancg at m as I lft the room and went out at the door, I saw her cross her hands upo his knee, and look up at him with th same face, something quieted, as h resumed his reading. It made a great impre on me, and I remembered it a long tim afterwards; as I shall have occas to narrate when the tim mes. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 342 Chapter 17 SOMEBODY TURNS UP I t has not occurred to me to meti Peggotty s I ran away; but, of course, I wrote her a letter almost as soo as I was hused at Dover, and anthr, and a longer letter, containing all particulars fully reated, wh my aunt tok me formaly under her protection. On my beg settled at Doctor Strong’s I wrote to her agai, detaig my happy cnditi and prospects. I never could have derived anythng like th pleasure from spendig the my Mr. Dik had given m, that I felt in dig a gold half-guina to Peggotty, per pot, ed in this last letter, to discharge th sum I had borrod of her: in which epistle, not before, I mentioned about th young man with th dokey-cart. To th communicatis Peggotty replied as proptly, if not as concisy, as a mercant’s clerk. Her utmost powrs of expression (wich were certainly not great in ink) were exhausted i the attempt to write what s felt on the subjet of my journey. Four side of inoherent and interjectional beginnings of senteces, that had no end, except blts, were inadequate to afford her any relf. But the blots were more expreve to me than the best composition; for thy shod me that Peggotty had be crying all over th paper, and what could I have desired more? I made out, without muc difficulty, that sh could nt take quite kindly to my aunt yet. The notic was too short after s lg a prepossion th othr way. We never kn a pers, she Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 343 wrote; but to think that Miss Betsy should see to be so different from what se had been thought to be, was a Moral!—that was her wrd. She was evidently sti afraid of Mi Betsy, for she sent hr grateful duty to her but timdly; and sh was evidetly afraid of me, to, and entertained th probabiity of my runing away agai oon: if I mght judge from the repeated hits s threw out, that the coach-fare to Yarmouth was always to be had of her for the asking. She gave me on piece of inteigece which affected me very muc, namy, that there had been a sal of the furnture at our old home, and that Mr. and Mis Murdsto were gone away, and th house was shut up, to be let or sold. God knows I had no part i it whe they reaied there, but it paied m to thk of th dear old plac as altogether abandod; of the weeds growing tall the garde, and the fall lave lyig thick and wet upon the paths. I iagid how the winds of winter would howl round it, how the cod rai would beat upo the window-glas, how the moon would make ghosts on the wal of the empty rooms, watchig their sotude all nght. I thought afres of the grave i the churcyard, undernath the tree: and it seemed as if the house re dead to, now, and all coted with my fathr and mothr wre faded away. There was n other news in Peggotty’s letters. Mr. Barki was an exct husband, s said, though sti a little near; but we all had our faults, and se had plty (though I am sure I do’t know wat thy were); and he sent hi duty, and my littl bedro was always ready for me Mr. Peggotty was wel, and Ham was wel, and Mrs.. Gummidge was but poorly, and littl Em’ly wouldn’t sd her lve, but said that Peggotty might sed it, if sh lked. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 344 All this inteigece I dutifully imparted to my aunt, only resrving to mysf the meti of lttle Em’ly, to whom I instictivey felt that she would not very tenderly incl While I was yet ne at Doctor Strong’s, she made several excursions over to Canterbury to see me, and alays at unsasonabl hours: wth th vi, I suppose, of taking me by surprise. But, fiding me w ployed, and bearig a god character, and harig o all hands that I rose fast in the school, se soon diontinued these vists. I saw her on a Saturday, every thrd or fourth week, when I wt over to Dover for a treat; and I saw Mr. Dick every alternate Wedneday, wh he arrived by stage-coac at noo, to stay unti xt morng. On thes occasns Mr. Dik never traved without a leathern writing-desk, containing a supply of stationery and th Memorial; i relation to whic doumt he had a notion that tim was beginnig to pre nw, and that it really must be got out of hand. Mr. Dick was very partial to gingerbread. To render his visits the more agreeable, my aunt had intructed me to open a credit for hm at a cake shop, wich was hampered with th stipulati that he should not be served with more than one sg’s-worth in th course of any on day. This, and th reference of all h littl bi at the county in where he slpt, to my aunt, before they were paid, induced me to suspect that he was only allowd to rattl h money, and not to spend it. I found on furthr investigation that this was so, or at least there was an agreet betwee hi and my aunt that h should account to her for all his disbursents. As he had no idea of deciving her, and alays desired to plase r, h was thus made chary of launching into expense. On this point, as we as on all othr possible poits, Mr. Dik was Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 345 convinced that my aunt was th wisest and most wonderful of wmen; as h repeatedly told me with infite secrey, and alays in a wisper. ‘Trotwd,’ said Mr. Dick, with an air of mystery, after imparting this confidence to me, on Wednday; ‘wh’s th man that hide near our house and frightens her?’ ‘Frighte my aunt, sir?’ Mr. Dik ndded. ‘I thought nothing would have frightend hr,’ he said, ‘for she’s—’ here he whispered softly, ‘don’t mention it—th wisest and most wonderful of women.’ Having said which, h dre back, to observe th effect which this descripti of her made upo me. ‘Th first time he came,’ said Mr. Dick, ‘was—let me see— sxteen hundred and forty-ne was the date of King Charl’s xeution. I thk you said sixte hundred and forty-n?’ ‘Yes, sir.’ ‘I don’t know h it can be,’ said Mr. Dik, sorely puzzled and shakig his head. ‘I don’t thk I am as old as that.’ ‘Was it in that year that th man appeared, sir?’ I asked. ‘Why, really’ said Mr. Dick, ‘I don’t see ho it can have be i that year, Trotwood. Did you get that date out of history?’ ‘Yes, sir.’ ‘I suppose history never lies, doe it?’ said Mr. Dick, wth a gleam of hope. ‘Oh dear, no, sir!’ I replied, most decisivey. I was igenuous and young, and I thought so ‘I can’t make it out,’ said Mr. Dick, shaking hi head. ‘Thre’s sthing wrong, sowhere However, it was very soon after the mtake was made of putting s of the trouble out of King Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 346 Carles’s had into my head, that th man first came. I was alking out wth Miss Trotwd after tea, just at dark, and thre he was, close to our house’ ‘Walkig about?’ I inquired. ‘Walkig about?’ repeated Mr. Dick. ‘Let me see, I must rellect a bit. N-no, no; he was not walking about.’ I asked, as the shortest way to get at it, what he WAS dog. ‘Well, he was’t there at al,’ said Mr. Dick, ‘until h came up behd hr, and whspered. Th she turnd round and faited, and I stood stil and looked at him, and he walked away; but that he should have been hdig ever sie (i the ground or somewre), is th most extraordiary thing!’ ‘Has he be hidig ever sie?’ I asked. ‘To be sure he has,’ retorted Mr. Dick, noddig hi head gravey. ‘Never cam out, til last night! We were walkig last night, and he came up behd her again, and I knew him again.’ ‘Ad did he frighte my aunt again?’ ‘All of a shiver,’ said Mr. Dick, counterfeting that affection and making hs teth chatter. ‘Hed by th palings. Cried. But, Trotwood, c here,’ getting me c to him, that he might wisper very softly; ‘why did she give him money, boy, in th oonlight?’ ‘He was a beggar, perhaps.’ Mr. Dick shook his head, as utterly renouncg the suggesti; and having repld a great many tim, and with great cfide, ‘No beggar, n beggar, n beggar, sir!’ went on to say, that from hi window he had afterwards, and late at night, se my aunt give this person my outside the garde rai in the moonlight, who th slunk away—into th ground again, as he thught probable— Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 347 and was seen n more: whe my aunt cam hurriedly and sretly back into the house, and had, eve that mornig, be quite differet fro her usual self; which preyed on Mr. Dick’s mind. I had nt the last belief, i the outset of this story, that the unknown was anything but a deus of Mr. Dik’s, and one of the line of that ill-fated Price wh ocasioned hm so much difficulty; but after so refletion I began to entertai the question whether an attempt, or threat of an attempt, mght have be twic made to take poor Mr. Dick hif from under my aunt’s protection, and whether my aunt, the stregth of whose kid feelig toards m I kn fro hersf, might have be induced to pay a price for his peace and quiet. As I was already much attached to Mr. Dick, and very solicitous for his welfare, my fears favoured this supposition; and for a long time his Wednesday hardly ever came round, without my entertaining a migivig that he would not be on the coach-box as usual There he alays appeared, however, grey-headed, laughing, and happy; and he nver had anything more to tell of th man wh could frighte my aunt. The Wedndays wre the happit days of Mr. Dick’s lfe; they were far from beg the least happy of mi He s beam known to every boy in the school; and though he nver took an active part in any game but kite-flyig, was as deply iterested i al our sports as anyone among us. How often have I se him, intent upo a matc at marbls or pegtop, looking on with a face of unutterabl iterest, and hardly breathing at the critial tim! How often, at hare and hounds, have I se hi mounted on a lttle knoll, ceerig the whole field on to action, and wavig his hat above his grey head, oblivious of King Charl the Martyr’s ad, and all belongig to it! Ho many a summer hour have I Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 348 known to be but blssful minutes to hi in th cricket-field! Ho any witer days have I se hi, standig blue-nd, in th ow and east wind, lookig at the boys going down the log slde, and clapping his worsted glve in rapture! He was an universal favourite, and his ingenuity in littl things as transcdent. He could cut oranges into such devices as none of us had an idea of. He could make a boat out of anything, from a skewr upwards. He could turn cramp-bos into chesmen; fashion Roman chariots fro old court cards; make spoked wh out of ctton reels, and bird-cages of old wire. But he was greatest of all, perhaps, in th arti of string and straw; wth wich w re all persuaded he could do anythng that could be done by hands Mr. Dick’s renow was not long confind to us After a fe Wednedays, Doctor Strong hif made som inquiries of me about hm, and I tod hm all my aunt had tod me; which interested th Doctor so much that he requeted, on th occasion f his next visit, to be preted to hi This ceremony I performed; and th Doctor begging Mr. Dick, whsoever h should not find me at th coach office, to come on thre, and rest hielf until our mornig’s work was over, it soon pased into a custo for Mr. Dick to come on as a matter of course, and, if we re a littl late, as often happened on a Wednesday, to walk about the courtyard, waitig for me Here he made the acquaitanc of the Dotor’s beautiful young wife (palr than formerly, al this tim; more rarely se by me or anyone, I think; and not so gay, but not le beautiful), and s beam mre and more familiar by degre, until, at last, he would come into th hool and wait. He always sat i a particular corner, on a Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 349 particular sto, which was cald ‘Dick’, after hi; here he would st, with his grey head bet forward, attentivey lteg to whatever mght be going on, with a profound venration for the learnng he had never bee able to acquire This venration Mr. Dik extended to the Dotor, whom he thought the mt subtl and acpled phosopher of any age. It was log before Mr. Dik ever spoke to hi othrw than bareheaded; and even when he and the Doctor had struck up quite a friedsp, and would walk together by the hour, on that side of th courtyard which was known amg us as Th Doctor’s Walk, Mr. Dick would pul off his hat at interval to show his respect for wisdom and knowledge Ho it ever came about that th Doctor began to read out scraps of th famous Dictionary, in th walks, I never knew; perhaps h felt it all th same, at first, as readig to hif. Hover, it pasd into a custo to; and Mr. Dick, listeg wth a face shig with pride and pleasure, in heart of hearts beved the Ditinary to be the mt deghtful book in the world. I think of them going up and down before those shoolroom wndows—th Doctor reading with his complacent sile, an occasonal flouris of the manusript, or grave motion of his head; and Mr. Dik listeg, enchaid by interest, with his poor wits aly wanderig God knows were, upon the wigs of hard wrds—I think of it as on of th pleasantet things, in a quiet way, that I have ever se I fee as if they might go walkig to and fro for ever, and the world might sohow be the better for it—as if a thusand thgs it makes a noi about, were not on half so good for it, or me Agnes was o of Mr. Dik’s friends, very soo; and in ofte Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 350 cg to the house, he made acquaintanc with Uriah. The friendship betw hif and me increased continualy, and it was maitaid on this odd foting: that, while Mr. Dick came professedly to look after me as my guardian, h always consulted m in any little matter of doubt that arose, and invariably guided hielf by my advic; not only having a high respet for my native sagacty, but considerig that I inherited a good deal from my aunt. On Thursday mornig, when I was about to walk with Mr. Dick from the hotel to the coach offic before going back to school (for we had an hour’s shool before breakfast), I met Uriah i the stret, wh reminded me of th pro I had made to take tea wth hmself and his mothr: adding, with a writh, ‘But I didn’t expect you to keep it, Master Copperfield, we’re so very umbl’ I really had not yet bee able to make up my mid whthr I liked Uriah or detested hm; and I was very doubtful about it still, as I stod lookig hm i th face in th stret. But I felt it quite an affrot to be suppoed proud, and said I ony wanted to be asked. ‘Oh, if that’s all, Master Copperfield,’ said Uriah, ‘and it really isn’t our umbls that prevets you, wi you come this eveg? But if it is our umbl, I hope you wn’t mind oning to it, Master Copperfield; for we are we aware of our condition.’ I said I would mention it to Mr. Wickfid, and if h approved, as I had no doubt he would, I would come with plasure. So, at six o’clock that evenig, wh was one of the early offic evenigs, I announced myself as ready, to Uriah. ‘Mother wil be proud, indeed,’ he said, as we walked away togethr. ‘Or she would be proud, if it wasn’t sinful, Master Cpperfield.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 351 ‘Yet you didn’t mind supposing I was proud this morng,’ I returned. ‘Oh dear, no, Master Copperfield!’ returnd Uriah. ‘Oh, beve , n! Suc a thought never cam into my head! I shouldn’t have deemed it at all proud if you had thought us too umble for you. Because we are so very umbl’ ‘Have you bee studying much law lately?’ I asked, to change the subject. ‘Oh, Master Copperfield,’ he said, with an air of sf-deal, ‘my reading is hardly to be called study. I have passed an hour or tw the eveg, sotim, with Mr. Tidd.’ ‘Rathr hard, I suppos?’ said I. ‘He is hard to me sometimes,’ returned Uriah. ‘But I do’t know what he might be to a gifted pers.’ After beatig a lttle tune on hi c as he walked on, with the two forefingers of his skeeton right hand, he added: ‘Thre are expressions, you see, Master Cpperfield—Lati words and terms—i Mr. Tidd, that are trying to a reader of my umble attaits’ ‘Would you like to be taught Lati?’ I said brikly. ‘I wi teac it you with pleasure, as I learn it.’ ‘Oh, thank you, Master Copperfield,’ he answered, shaking h ad. ‘I am sure it’s very kid of you to make th offer, but I am much to umbl to accept it.’ ‘What nonsen, Uriah!’ ‘Oh, ideed you must excuse me, Master Copperfield! I am greatly oblged, and I should like it of al things, I assure you; but I am far too umbl There are peopl enough to tread upo me i y lowly state, without my dog outrage to their feegs by Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 352 possessing learning. Learning ain’t for me. A pers like myself had better not aspire If he is to get o in life, h must get o umbly, Master Copperfield!’ I never saw his mouth so wide, or th creases in hs cheks so deep, as when he devered hif of the stits: shakig his had all th time, and writhng modestly. ‘I thk you are wrog, Uriah,’ I said. ‘I dare say there are veral things that I could teach you, if you would like to larn them’ ‘Oh, I don’t doubt that, Master Copperfield,’ he answered; ‘nt i the least. But not beg umble yoursef, you do’t judge wel, perhaps, for them that are I won’t provoke my betters with knowledge, thank you. I’m much to umbl Here is my umbl dweng, Master Copperfield!’ We entered a low, old-fashioned ro, walked straight into from the street, and found there Mrs. Heep, who was the dead iage of Uriah, only short. She receved m with the utmot humility, and apolgized to me for giving hr son a kiss, observing that, lwly as they were, they had their natural affecti, whic they hoped would give no offen to anyone It was a perfectly decent ro, half parlur and half kitcn, but not at all a sug room. The tea-things were set upon the table, and the kettle was boiling o th hb. Thre was a chet of drawers with an escritore top, for Uriah to read or write at of an evenig; there was Uriah’s blue bag lyig do and vomiting papers; there was a copany of Uriah’s boks coanded by Mr. Tidd; thre was a cornr cupboard: and there were the usual arti of furnture. I do’t remember that any idividual object had a bare, pid, spare ook; but I do reber that the whole place had. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 353 It was perhaps a part of Mrs. Heep’s humilty, that she sti wre weeds Notwithstandig the laps of tim that had occurred s Mr. Heep’s deas, se sti wore weeds I thk there was so mpromise i th cap; but othrwise she was as wedy as in th arly days of her mourng. ‘This is a day to be remembered, my Uriah, I am sure,’ said Mrs Heep, makig the tea, ‘when Master Copperfid pays us a vit.’ ‘I said you’d thk so, mothr,’ said Uriah. ‘If I could have wisd father to remai among us for any reas,’ said Mrs. Heep, ‘it would have be, that he might have known his company this afternn.’ I felt embarrased by the coplts; but I was sbl, too, of beg entertaid as an honoured guest, and I thought Mrs. Heep an agreeabl woan ‘My Uriah,’ said Mrs Heep, ‘has lked forward to this, sir, a long while. He had his fears that our umbls stod in th way, and I joined in them mysf. Umble we are, umbl we have be, umble we shal ever be,’ said Mrs. Heep. ‘I am sure you have n oasion to be so, ma’am,’ I said, ‘uness you like’ ‘Thank you, sir,’ retorted Mrs. Heep. ‘We know our stati and are thankful in it.’ I found that Mrs. Heep gradually got nearer to me, and that Uriah gradually got oppote to me, and that they respetfully pld m with the choict of the eatabl on the table. There was thing particularly choic there, to be sure; but I took the will for the deed, and felt that they were very attetive. Presently they began to talk about aunts, and then I told them about m; and about fathers and mthers, and then I told them about m; and Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 354 then Mrs. Heep began to talk about fathers-i-law, and then I began to tel her about mi—but stopped, beause my aunt had advisd m to observe a si on that subjet. A tender young crk, however, would have had n more chan against a pair of corkscres, or a tender young toth against a pair of dentits, or a lttle suttleock agait two battledores, than I had againt Uriah and Mrs Hep. Thy did just what thy liked with me; and wormed things out of me that I had no dere to tel, with a certainty I blus to thk of. th more especially, as in my juvenile frankn, I tok some credit to myself for being so confidetial and felt that I was quite th patro of my tw respectful tertairs. They were very fond of one another: that was certai I take it, that had its effect upo me, as a touch of nature; but the ski with w the one folld up whatever the other said, was a touch of art which I was sti les prof agait. Whe thre was nothg mre to be got out of me about mysf (for on the Murdstone and Grinby life, and on my journy, I was dumb), they began about Mr. Wikfied and Agn Uriah threw the ball to Mrs. Heep, Mrs. Hep caught it and thre it back to Uriah, Uriah kept it up a littl ile, th sent it back to Mrs. Hep, and so thy wnt o tossing it about until I had n idea who had got it, and was quite bedered. Th bal itself was alays changing to Now it was Mr. Wickfid, now Agne, now th excelce of Mr. Wickfid, now my admirati of Agnes; now th extent of Mr. Wickfid’s business and resources, now our domestic life after dinnr; now, the win that Mr. Wikfied took, the reas why he took it, and th pity that it was h tok so much; now on thg, now anthr, then everything at onc; and all the tim, without appearig to Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 355 speak very often, or to do anything but stim eurage them a lttle, for fear they should be overc by their humity and the honour of my copany, I found mysf perpetually ltting out sthing or other that I had no bus to let out and sg the effect of it in th twinklg of Uriah’s dinted nostrils. I had begun to be a lttle unfortable, and to wis mysf well ut of th visit, wh a figure coming dow th stret passed th door—it stood open to air the room, whic was warm, the weather beig clos for th time of year—cam back again, looked in, and walked in, excaiming loudly, ‘Copperfield! Is it possibl?’ It was Mr. Micawber! It was Mr. Miawber, with his eye-glass, and his walking-stick, and his shirt-collar, and h gente air, and th condescending ro in his voice, all complete! ‘My dear Cpperfield,’ said Mr. Miawber, putting out his hand, ‘this is ideed a meetig wich is calculated to impres th mind wth a sen of th instability and uncertainty of all human—in short, it is a most extraordinary meetig. Walking along th stret, refleting upo the probabity of sothing turnig up (of whic I am at pret rathr sangui), I find a young but valued friend turn up, w is connected with th most evetful perid of my life; I may say, with the turnig-pot of my exiten Copperfied, my dear fe, ho do you do?’ I cannot say—I really cannot say—that I was glad to se Mr. Micawber there; but I was glad to see hi too, and shook hands with him, heartily, inquirig how Mrs. Micawber was. ‘Thank you,’ said Mr. Miawber, wavig his hand as of old, and settling h chi in his shirt-coar. ‘She is tolerably convalescent. Th twins no longer derive thr susteance fro Nature’s founts—i short,’ said Mr. Micawber, in one of hi bursts of Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 356 confidence, ‘thy are weaned—and Mrs. Miawber is, at pret, my travelling companion She will be rejoiced, Cpperfield, to renew her acquaitan with one who has proved hielf i al respects a worthy minister at th sacred altar of friendship.’ I said I should be deghted to se her. ‘You are very god,’ said Mr. Micawber. Mr. Micawber th smild, settld hs chi again, and looked about him ‘I have discovered my friend Copperfid,’ said Mr. Micawber gentey, and without addreg himf particularly to anyone, ‘not in solitude, but partaking of a social meal in company with a wdow lady, and on wh is apparently her offsprig—in short,’ said Mr. Micawber, in anthr of his bursts of confidece, ‘her son I shall este it an hour to be preted.’ I could do no les, under th circumstances, than make Mr. Miawber known to Uriah Heep and his mther; w I acrdigly did. A they abased themsves before hi, Mr. Micawber tok a seat, and waved his hand in his most courtly manner. ‘Any friend of my friend Copperfield’s,’ said Mr. Micawber, ‘has a persal claim upo myself.’ ‘We are to umble, sir,’ said Mrs. Heep, ‘my son and me, to be th friends of Master Cpperfield. He has be so god as take hi tea with us, and we are thankful to him for his copany, al to you, sir, for your notice.’ ‘Ma’am,’ returned Mr. Micawber, with a bow, ‘you are very obliging: and what are you doing, Copperfield? Still in th w trade?’ I was excessivey anxius to get Mr. Micawber away; and replied, with my hat in my hand, and a very red face, I have no Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 357 doubt, that I was a pupil at Doctor Strong’s. ‘A pupi?’ said Mr. Micawber, raig his eyebrows. ‘I am extremely happy to hear it. Athough a mind like my fried Copperfid’s’—to Uriah and Mrs Heep—‘do not require that cultivation wh, withut his knowledge of men and things, it would require, sti it i a ric so teeg with latent vegetation— in short,’ said Mr. Micawber, smiling, i anothr burst of confidence, ‘it is an intet capabl of getting up th classics to any extent.’ Uriah, with hi lg hands slowly twing over one another, made a ghastly writhe from the wait upwards, to expre hi ncurrence in this estimati of me. ‘Shal we go and see Mrs. Miawber, sir?’ I said, to get Mr. Micawber away. ‘If you wil do her that favour, Cpperfied,’ repld Mr. Micawber, rising. ‘I have no scruple in saying, in th prece of our friends hre, that I am a man wh has, for some years, conteded against th pressure of pecuniary difficulties.’ I kn was certain to say something of this kind; h alays wuld be so boastful about his difficulties. ‘Soti I have ri superir to my difficulties. Sometimes my difficulties have—in short, have floored me. There have be ti when I have admtered a succession of facers to th; thre have be tis wh thy have been too many for me, and I have given in, and said to Mrs. Micawber, in the words of Cato, “Plato, thu reasest w. It’s al up no I can sh fight no more” But at n ti of my life,’ said Mr. Miawber, ‘have I enjoyed a higher degree of satifacti than in pourig my griefs (if I may describe difficulties, chiefly arig out of warrants of attorney and promry notes at two and four Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 358 month, by that word) into th bosom of my friend Cpperfield.’ Mr. Micawber cld this handsome tribute by saying, ‘Mr. Heep! Good evenig. Mrs. Heep! Your srvant,’ and then walkig out with me in his most fashionabl manner, making a god deal of noise on th pavement with his shos, and humg a tune as we went. It was a littl inn whre Mr. Micawber put up, and h ocupied a littl ro in it, partitioned off fro th commercal ro, and strongly flavoured with tobac-smoke I thk it was over th kitcn, becaus a warm greasy smel appeared to come up through the cks i the floor, and there was a flabby perspiration on th walls. I know it was near th bar, o account of th smell of spirits and jinglng of glasses. Here, recumbet on a small sofa, undernath a picture of a race-hrse, with her head cose to the fire, and her feet pusg the mustard off the dumbwaiter at the other end of the room, was Mrs. Micawber, to whom Mr. Micawber entered first, saying, ‘My dear, alw m to introduc to you a pupil of Doctor Strong’s.’ I noticd, by the by, that although Mr. Micawber was just as uc cfused as ever about my age and standig, he alays rembered, as a gente thing, that I was a pupi of Dotor Strong’s. Mrs. Micawber was amazed, but very glad to s me I was very glad to se her too, and, after an affectiate greetig o both sides, sat dow on th small sofa near her. ‘My dear,’ said Mr. Micawber, ‘if you wi mention to pperfield what our pret position is, which I have no doubt h ll like to know, I wi go and look at th paper th wile, and se ether anythig turn up among the advertiements.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 359 ‘I thught you were at Plymuth, ma’am,’ I said to Mrs Micawber, as he wet out. ‘My dear Master Copperfield,’ she replied, ‘we wnt to Plymouth.’ ‘To be on the spot,’ I hited. ‘Just so,’ said Mrs. Micawber. ‘To be on the spot. But, the truth is, talent is not wanted in th Custo Hous Th local ifluence of my family was quite unavailing to obtai any employment in that department, for a man of Mr. Micawber’s abiities. Thy wuld rather not have a man of Mr. Micawber’s abiities He wuld oly sho th deficieny of th othrs. Apart fro which,’ said Mrs Micawber, ‘I wi not disguise fro you, my dear Master Copperfield, that when that branch of my famy which is settld in Plymuth, beame aware that Mr. Micawber was accompanied by myself, and by littl Wikis and his sister, and by th twins, thy did not receive him with that ardour which h might have xpected, beg so newy releasd fro captivity. In fact,’ said Mrs. Micawber, lwering her voic,—‘thi i betwee ourseves— our reception was co.’ ‘Dear me!’ I said. ‘Yes,’ said Mrs. Miawber. ‘It is truly paiful to contemplate mankind in such an aspect, Master Copperfield, but our reception as, decidedly, coo. Thre is no doubt about it. In fact, that branch of my family which is settld in Plymuth beame quite persal to Mr. Micawber, before we had be there a week.’ I said, and thought, that they ought to be ashamed of themsves ‘Sti, so it was,’ cotiued Mrs. Micawber. ‘Under such circumstance, what could a man of Mr. Micawber’s spirit do? But Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 360 o obvius course was left. To borro, of that branch of my famy, the moy to return to London, and to return at any sacrifi’ ‘Thn you all came back again, ma’am?’ I said. ‘We all came back again,’ replied Mrs Micawber. ‘Since th, I have consulted othr branche of my family on th course which it is most expedient for Mr. Micawber to take—for I maitai that he must take some course, Master Copperfield,’ said Mrs. Miawber, argumetativey. ‘It i clar that a famiy of sx, nt inudig a domestic, cant live upo air.’ ‘Certainy, ma’am,’ said I. ‘The opi of those other bran of my famy,’ pursued Mrs. Micawber, ‘is, that Mr. Micawber should immediatey turn is attention to coals.’ ‘To what, ma’am?’ ‘To coals,’ said Mrs Miawber. ‘To the coal trade. Mr. Micawber was inducd to think, on inquiry, that there mght be an opeg for a man of his talent in th Medway Coal Trade. Th, as Mr. Micawber very properly said, th first step to be taken clearly was, to come and see th Medway. Whi we came and saw. I say “we”, Master Copperfield; for I nver wil,’ said Mrs. Micawber with eotio, ‘I nver will dert Mr. Micawber.’ I murmured my admirati and approbation. ‘We came,’ repeated Mrs Micawber, ‘and saw the Medway. My opinion of th coal trade on that river is, that it may require talent, but that it certainly require capital. Talent, Mr. Micawber has; capital, Mr. Micawber has not. We saw, I thk, th greater part of th Medway; and that is my individual conclus Beg so near hre, Mr. Micawber was of opinion that it would be rash not to Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 361 c on, and se the Cathedral. Firstly, on acunt of its beg s ll worth seeng, and our never having se it; and secodly, o acunt of the great probabity of sothing turnig up i a cathedral to. We have be here,’ said Mrs. Miawber, ‘three days. Nothing has, as yet, turned up; and it may not surpris you, my dear Master Copperfield, so much as it wuld a stranger, to know that we are at pret waitig for a rettan fro London, to discharge our pecuniary obligatis at this hote. Until th arrival of that remttan,’ said Mrs. Micawber with muc feeg, ‘I am cut off fro my ho (I allude to lodgings i Pentoville), fro my boy and girl, and fro my twins.’ I felt the utmot sympathy for Mr. and Mrs. Micawber i this anxius extreity, and said as much to Mr. Micawber, w now returnd: adding that I only wished I had money eugh, to lend them the amount they needed. Mr. Miawber’s aner expresd th disturbance of his mind. He said, shakig hands wth me, ‘Copperfield, you are a true friend; but w th wrst comes to th worst, no man is withut a friend wh is possesd of shaving material’ At this dreadful hint Mrs. Miawber threw her arm round Mr. Micawber’s neck and entreated him to be calm. He pt; but so far revered, almost immediatey, as to ring th be for th waiter, and bespeak a hot kidney pudding and a plate of shrimps for breakfast in th morning. When I took my leave of them, they both presd me s muc to me and dine before thy went away, that I could not refuse. But, as I kn I culd not co next day, wh I suld have a god deal to prepare in the evenig, Mr. Miawber arranged that he wuld call at Doctor Strong’s in th course of th morning (havig a pretimt that the remttan would arrive by that pot), and Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 362 propo th day after, if it would suit me better. Accordingly I was alled out of shool nxt foreno, and found Mr. Micawber i the parlur; w had cald to say that th dinner would take place as proposed. When I asked him if the remittan had co, he pred my hand and departed. As I was lookig out of window that same eveg, it surprid me, and made me rathr unasy, to see Mr. Micawber and Uriah Heep walk past, arm in arm: Uriah humbly sebl of the honour that was done him, and Mr. Miawber taking a bland delight in xtending his patroage to Uriah But I was still more surprid, wen I wet to the little hotel nxt day at the appoted dierhur, wich was four o’clock, to find, fro what Mr. Micawber said, that h had go ho with Uriah, and had drunk brandyand-water at Mrs. Heep’s ‘And I’ll tell you what, my dear Copperfield,’ said Mr. Micawber, ‘your friend Hep is a young fe wh might be attorney-genral If I had known that young man, at the period w my difficulties came to a crisis, al I can say is, that I believe y creditors would have be a great deal better managed than they were.’ I hardly understood how this could have been, seeing that Mr. Micawber had paid them nothing at all as it was; but I did not lke to ask. Neithr did I like to say, that I hoped he had not bee to unative to Uriah; or to inquire if they had talked muc about me. I was afraid of hurting Mr. Micawber’s feelgs, or, at al vets, Mrs. Miawber’s, she being very sensitive; but I was uncfortable about it, too, and often thought about it afterwards We had a beautiful littl dinner. Quite an elgant dish of fish; th kidney-ed of a loi of veal, roasted; fried sausage-meat; a Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 363 partridge, and a puddig. There was wi, and there was strog al; and after dinner Mrs. Micawber made us a bowl of hot pun with her own hands Mr. Micawber was unmmonly convivial. I never saw hi such god company. He made his face shine with th pun, so that it looked as if it had be varnished all over. He got cherfully sentimental about th to, and propod suc to it; observing that Mrs. Miawber and himelf had been made extremey sug and cfortable there and that he nver should forget th agreeable hours they had pasd in Canterbury. He proposed m afterwards; and he, and Mrs. Micawber, and I, took a revie of our past acquaintance, i th course of which we sold th property all over agai Then I proposed Mrs. Micawber: or, at last, said, modestly, ‘If you’ll allow me, Mrs Micawber, I shall now have th pleasure of drinking your health, ma’am’ On whic Mr. Micawber devered an eulgium on Mrs. Micawber’s character, and said s had ever be his guide, phosopher, and fried, and that he wuld remmend me, wh I came to a marrying time of life, to marry such anthr woman, if such anothr woman could be found. As th punch disappeared, Mr. Miawber became sti more friendly and convivial. Mrs. Miawber’s spirits beming evated, to, we sang ‘Auld Lang Syn’. Wh we cam to ‘Here’s a hand, my trusty frere’, we al joind hands round the table; and when we declared w would ‘take a right gude Wilie Waught’, and hadn’t th least idea what it meant, we were really affected. In a word, I never saw anybody so thoroughly jovial as Mr. Miawber was, do to the very last mot of the evenig, when I took a hearty farewell of hif and hi amable wife. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 364 Cnsequently, I was not prepared, at seven o’ck next morning, to receive th followng comunicati, dated half past nine i th evenig; a quarter of an hour after I had left him:— ‘My DEAR YOUNG FRIEND, ‘Th die is cast—all is over. Hiding th ravages of care with a sickly mask of mirth, I have not informd you, this eveg, that there is no hope of the rettane! Under the crcumstan, alike humiliating to endure, humiliating to conteplate, and humiliating to reate, I have discharged th pecuniary labiity contracted at this establishment, by giving a note of hand, made payable fourteen days after date, at my rede, Pentovi, London. Whe it bemes due, it wi not be taken up. Th result is destruction. Th bolt is impending, and th tre must fall. ‘Let th wretched man wh now addres you, my dear Cpperfield, be a beacon to you through life. He write with that intention, and in that hope If h could thk hf of so much use, one gleam of day mght, by pobity, petrate into the cherless dunge of his reaig existece—thugh hi gevity is, at present (to say the least of it), extremely problematial. ‘This is th last communicati, my dear Copperfield, you wi ever reve ‘Fro The ‘Beggared Outcast, ‘WILKINS MICAWBER.’ I was s shocked by the cotets of this heart-rendig letter, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 365 that I ran off directly towards the lttle hotel with the itentin of takig it on my way to Doctor Strong’s, and trying to soothe Mr. Micawber with a word of cofort. But, half-way there, I met the London coach with Mr. and Mrs. Micawber up bed; Mr. Micawber, th very picture of tranquil ejoymt, smiling at Mrs Micawber’s coversation, eating walnuts out of a paper bag, with a bottl sticking out of his breast pocket. As thy did not see me, I thought it bet, al things codered, nt to se them So, with a great weight take off my mid, I turned into a by-street that was the narest way to school, and felt, upon the whole, relieved that thy were go; thugh I still liked th very much, neverthless. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 366 Chapter 18 A RETROSPECT M y school-days! The sit glidig on of my existence— the unseen, unfelt progress of my lfe—from cdhood up to youth! Let me think, as I look back upo that fling water, now a dry channel overgron with leave, whthr thre are any marks along its course, by which I can remember how it ran mt, and I occupy my place i the Cathedral, where we all wnt togethr, every Sunday morng, asbling first at shool for that purpose. The earthy sm, the sun air, the sati of the world beg shut out, the resundig of the organ through th black and white arched galleri and aisles, are wings that take me back, and hold me hovering above those days, i a half-sleeping and half-waking dream. I am nt the last boy in the school. I have ris in a few mths, over sveral heads But the first boy se to me a mighty creature, dweng afar off, wh giddy height is unattainable. gn says ‘No,’ but I say ‘Ye,’ and tell her that sh little thinks at stores of knowldge have be mastered by the wderful Being, at whose place she thks I, even I, weak aspirant, may arrive in time. He is not my private friend and public patro, as Sterforth was, but I hod him in a reverential respect. I chiefly wnder wat h’ll be, wh he leave Doctor Strong’s, and what mankind wi do to maitai any place against him. But wh is this that breaks upo me? This is Mi Shephrd, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 367 whom I love. Miss Shephrd is a boarder at th Misses Nettingal’ etablishment. I adore Miss Shephrd. She is a littl girl, i a spenr, with a round face and curly flaxe hair. Th Misses Nettingall’ young ladi co to the Cathedral too. I cant lk upon my book, for I must look upon Mis Shpherd. Wh the choristers chaunt, I hear Mi Shephrd. In th srvice I mentally irt Mis Shpherd’s nam—I put her in among the Royal Family. At ho, in my own ro, I am sometimes moved to cry out, ‘Oh, Mis Shepherd!’ in a tranport of love. For some time, I am doubtful of Miss Shephrd’s fegs, but, at legth, Fate beg propitius, we meet at the dang-school. I have Miss Shephrd for my partnr. I touc Miss Shephrd’s glove, and fee a thrill go up the right arm of my jacket, and co out at my hair. I say nothing to Mis Shpherd, but we understand each othr. Miss Shephrd and myself live but to be united. Why do I seretly give Mi Shphrd twve Brazi nuts for a present, I woder? They are not expresve of affecti, they are difficult to pack into a parce of any regular shape, they are hard to crack, even in room doors, and they are oily when cracked; yet I fe that thy are appropriate to Miss Shephrd. Soft, seedy biuits, al, I betow upon Mis Shepherd; and oranges innumerabl Once, I kiss Miss Shephrd in th cloak-ro Ecstasy! What are my agoy and idignation next day, w I har a flying rumour that th Misses Nettingall have stod Mi Shpherd in the stocks for turnig in her toes! Miss Shephrd being th on pervading th and vision of my lfe, how do I ever co to break with her? I can’t cove. Ad yet a coolness gros betw Miss Shephrd and myself. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 368 Whispers reach m of Miss Shephrd having said she wished I wuldn’t stare s, and havig avowed a preferenc for Master Jo—for Jo! a boy of no merit watever! The gulf between m and Mi Shepherd wide At last, one day, I meet the Mi Nettingalls’ establishment out walking. Miss Shephrd makes a face as she go by, and laugh to her companion All is over. Th devoti of a lfe—it ses a life, it is al th same—is at an end; Miss Shephrd comes out of th morning service, and th Royal Famy know her n more. I am higher in the school, and n one breaks my peace. I am not at all polite, now, to th Misses Nettingalls’ young ladies, and shouldn’t dote on any of them, if they were twic as many and twenty tim as beautiful I think the dancig-school a tireso affair, and woder why the girl can’t dane by themsves and lave us al I am growing great in Latin verse, and nglt the laces of my bots. Doctor Strong refers to me in publ as a proising young schoar. Mr. Dik is wid with joy, and my aunt remts me a guina by the next pot. The sade of a young butcher ris, like the apparitio of an armed head in Macbeth Who is this young butcr? He is th terror of the youth of Canterbury. There is a vague beef abroad, that th bef suet with which h anoints h hair gives h unnatural strength, and that he is a match for a man. He is a broad-faced, bul-nked, young butcr, with rough red cheks, an ill-conditioned mind, and an injurius tongue. His main us of this tongue, is, to disparage Doctor Strong’s young gentlemen. He says, publicly, that if thy want anythng he’ll give it ’em. He names idividuals among th (mysf included), wh he could undertake to sttle with one hand, and the other tied bed him Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 369 He waylays the smallr boys to punh their unprotected heads, and cal calges after m i the ope streets For th sufficient reasons I resolve to fight th butcr. It i a sumer evenig, do i a green holl, at the corner of a wall I mt the butcher by appotmet. I am attended by a st body of our boys; the butcher, by two other butchers, a young publan, and a swep. Th preiminaries are adjusted, and the butcher and mysf stand fac to fac In a mot the butcher lights ten thousand candl out of my left eyebrow. In another mt, I do’t know where the wal is, or where I am, or wre anybody is. I hardly kn which is myself and which th butcr, we are alays in such a tangle and tussle, knking about upon the trodde grass Sotim I s the butcher, bloody but cfidet; sotim I se nthing, and sit gaspig on my sed’s knee; sometimes I go in at th butcr madly, and cut my knuckles ope agait his face, wthut appearing to discompose m at all. At last I awake, very quer about th head, as fro a giddy sp, and s the butcher walkig off, congratulated by the two other butchers and the sweep and publian, and putting on his coat as h go; fro wich I augur, justly, that th victory is his. I am taken ho in a sad plight, and I have beef-steaks put to my eyes, and am rubbed with vigar and brandy, and find a great puffy place bursting out on my upper lip, which swells immoderately. For thre or four days I remain at ho, a very illlookig subjet, with a green shade over my eyes; and I should be very dull, but that Agnes is a sister to me, and condo wth me, and reads to me, and makes th time light and happy. Agnes has y cofide copltely, alays; I tell her all about the butcher, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 370 and the wrongs he has heaped upon m; she thinks I culdn’t have do otherwis than fight the butcher, whil sh srinks and trembl at my having fought him Tim has stolen on unobsrved, for Adam i not the head-boy i the days that are co no, nr has he been th many and many a day. Adam has left the school so lg, that when he c back, on a vit to Doctor Strog, there are not many there, bede ysf, who know him Adam is going to be cald to the bar almost directly, and i to be an advoate, and to wear a wig. I am surprised to find him a meeker man than I had thught, and les imposng i appearance. He has not staggered th world yet, ether; for it goes on (as well as I can make out) pretty muc the same as if he had never jod it. A blank, through wich th warrirs of poetry and history march on in stately hosts that se to have n end—and what c nxt! I am the head-boy, nw! I look down on the l of boys below me, with a codescending interest in such of th as brig to my mind the boy I was mysf, when I first cam there That littl fe ses to be no part of me; I remember him as sthing left bed upo the road of life—as sthing I have passed, rathr than have actually bee—and almost thk of h as of soone el d the lttle girl I saw on that first day at Mr. Wikfid’s, wre is she? Gone also. In her stead, th perfet likeness of th picture, a child likeness no more, moves about th huse; and Agnes—my swet sister, as I call hr in my thughts, my counllor and friend, th better angel of th lives of all wh come wthin her calm, god, self-deying influence—is quite a woman. What othr changes have come upo me, besides th change Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 371 i my growth and looks, and i the knowledge I have garnered al this whil? I wear a gold watch and chain, a ring upon my little finger, and a long-tailed coat; and I us a great deal of bear’s grease—which, taken in conjunction with th ring, looks bad. Am I in love again? I am. I worsp th eldest Miss Larkis. The edet Mis Larki is nt a lttle girl. Sh is a tall, dark, black-eyed, fi figure of a woan The eldet Mi Larki i not a chicken; for th youngest Miss Larkis is not that, and th eldest must be thre or four years older. Perhaps th eldest Mi Larkins may be about thirty. My passion for her is beyond all bounds. Th eldest Mi Larki kns officers. It is an awful thing to bear. I see them speakig to her in the street. I see them cross th way to meet her, when her bot (she has a bright taste i bots) is se coming dow th pavement, accompanied by her sister’s bot. She laugh and talks, and ses to like it. I sped a god deal of my own spare time in walking up and dow to meet her. If I can bow to her onc i the day (I know her to bow to, knowing Mr. Larkins), I am happier. I deserve a bo now and then The raging ago I suffer on the night of the Rac Ball, wre I know th eldest Miss Larkins wi be dang wth th litary, ought to have so copeation, if there be evehanded justice in th world. My passion takes away my appetite, and makes m war my nest silk nekerchief continualy. I have no relief but in putting on my bet clothes, and having my boots cand over and over agai I seem, then, to be worthier of the eldet Mi Larki Everythng that belongs to her, or is connected wth hr, is preus to me Mr. Larki (a gruff old gentlan with a doubl chin, and on of his eye immovabl in his head) is fraught wth Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 372 iteret to m. Wh I can’t meet his daughter, I go where I am likely to meet him. To say ‘Ho do you do, Mr. Larkis? Are th young ladi and all th family quite well?’ sees so poited, that I blus I think contiualy about my age Say I am sevente, and say that sevete is young for th eldet Miss Larkins, wat of that? Besides, I shall be on-and-twty in no time almost. I regularly take walks outside Mr. Larkins’s house in th eveg, thugh it cuts me to the heart to se the officrs go in, or to hear them up i th drawing-ro, whre th eldest Mi Larkins plays th harp. I even walk, on two or three occasons, in a skly, spoony manner, round and round the house after the famy are gone to bed, wndering which is th eldest Mi Larkis’s chamber (and pitching, I dare say now, o Mr. Larkis’s instead); wishig that a fire would burst out; that the asbld crowd would stand appalld; that I, dasg through them with a ladder, might rear it agait her window, save her in my arm, go back for sthing se had lft bed, and peri in the flam For I am geraly ditereted in my love, and think I could be cotet to make a figure before Miss Larkins, and expire Generally, but not alays. Sometimes brighter visions ri before me When I dres (the occupation of two hours), for a great ball given at th Larkis’s (th anticipation of thre weks), I indulge my fancy with pleasng image I picture myself taking courage to make a declaration to Miss Larkins. I picture Mi Larki sikig her head upon my shoulder, and saying, ‘Oh, Mr. Cpperfield, can I believe my ears!’ I picture Mr. Larkis waiting o me next morning, and saying, ‘My dear Copperfield, my daughter has told me all. Youth is no objection. Here are twty Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 373 thusand pounds. Be happy!’ I picture my aunt relentig, and blsing us; and Mr. Dik and Doctor Strong being pret at th marriage cremony. I am a sensible fe, I believe—I believe, o lookig back, I mean—and modest I am sure; but all this go on twithstandig. I repair to the enanted house, where there are lights, chattering, music, flrs, officers (I am sorry to see), and the eldet Mi Larki, a blaze of beauty. She i dresd in blue, with blue flowers in her hair—forget-me-nots—as if SHE had any nd to wear forget-me-nts. It is the first really grown-up party that I have ever be invited to, and I am a lttle unfortabl; for I appear not to belong to anybody, and nobody appears to have anythng to say to me, except Mr. Larkins, wh asks me h my shoolfellows are, whic he needn’t do, as I have nt c there to be inulted. But after I have stood in the doorway for so tim, and feasted my eyes upon the godde of my heart, she approac me—she, th eldest Mi Larkins!—and asks me pleasantly, if I danc? I stammer, with a bo, ‘With you, Miss Larkis.’ ‘With no on el?’ inquire Miss Larkis. ‘I should have no pleasure in dang with anyo else.’ Miss Larkins laugh and bluss (or I think she bluss), and says, ‘Next tim but one, I sall be very glad.’ The tim arrives ‘It is a waltz, I think,’ Mis Larki doubtfully observe, w I pret myself. ‘Do you waltz? If not, Captain Baiey—’ But I do waltz (pretty well, to, as it happen), and I take Miss Larkins out. I take her sternly fro th side of Captain Bailey. He is wretched, I have no doubt; but he is nothing to me. I have be Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 374 wretched, to I waltz with th eldest Miss Larkins! I don’t kn where, among whom, or how log. I oy know that I s about in space, with a blue angel, in a state of blssful derium, until I find myself alon with her in a littl ro, resting on a sofa. She admires a flr (pink camellia japona, price half-a-cro), in my button-hole I give it her, and say: ‘I ask an intimabl price for it, Miss Larkins.’ ‘Inded! What i that?’ returns Mis Larki ‘A floer of yours, that I may treasure it as a miser doe god.’ ‘You’re a bod boy,’ says Miss Larkins. ‘Thre.’ She gives it me, not displeased; and I put it to my lips, and th to my breast. Mis Larki, laughing, draw her hand through my arm, and says, ‘No take me back to Captai Baiey.’ I am lost i th reti of this delicius interview, and th altz, wh she comes to me again, wth a plain elderly gentleman who has be playig whist al nght, upon her arm, and says: ‘Oh! here i my bod fried! Mr. Chtl wants to know you, Mr. Cpperfield.’ I fe at on that he is a frid of th famy, and am muc gratified. ‘I admire your taste, sir,’ says Mr. Chtl ‘It doe you credit. I suppose you don’t take much interest in hops; but I am a pretty large grower mysf; and if you ever like to co over to our nghbourhood—nghbourhood of Ashford—and take a run about our place,—w shall be glad for you to stop as long as you like.’ I thank Mr. Chtl warmly, and shake hands. I thk I am i a happy dream. I waltz with th eldest Miss Larkins once again. She says I waltz so well! I go ho in a state of unspeakabl bliss, and Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 375 waltz i iagiation, al night long, with my arm round th blue aist of my dear divinity. For some days afterwards, I am lost in rapturous reflections; but I nther see her in the street, nor when I call. I am imperfetly consold for this disappoitmt by th sacred pledge, th perished flr. ‘Trotwd,’ says Agns, one day after dinner. ‘Who do you thk i going to be married tomorrow? Soone you admre.’ ‘Not you, I suppose, Agns?’ ‘Not me!’ raig her cherful face fro th music she i pying. ‘Do you hear hi, Papa?—Th eldest Mi Larkis.’ ‘To—to Captai Baiey?’ I have just enough powr to ask. ‘No; to no Captai To Mr. Chestle, a hop-gror.’ I am terribly dejected for about a week or two. I take off my rig, I wear my worst clths, I use no bear’s grease, and I frequently lament over th late Mi Larkis’s faded flr. Being, by that tim, rather tired of this kind of life, and having recved nw provocati from the butcher, I throw the flower away, go out with the butcher, and gloriously defeat him Th, and th reumpti of my rig, as we as of th bear’s grease in moderati, are th last marks I can discern, now, in my progress to sevente Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 376 Chapter 19 I LOOK ABOUT ME, AND MAKE A DISCOVERY I am doubtful wthr I was at hart glad or sorry, wh my shool-days drew to an end, and the tim cam for my leavig Doctor Strong’s I had be very happy there, I had a great attachment for th Doctor, and I was et and distiguished i that lttle world. For thes reas I was sorry to go; but for other reasons, unsubstantial enugh, I was glad. Misty ideas of beg a young man at my own diposal, of the importan attacg to a young man at his own diposal, of the wonderful things to be se and done by that magnificent animal, and th wonderful effects he uld not fai to make upo socty, lured me away. So powrful re th visionary considerations in my boyish mind, that I seem, acrdig to my prest way of thinkig, to have lft shool without natural regret. The separation has nt made the impresion on me, that othr separatis have. I try in vai to recall h I felt about it, and what its circumstan were; but it is not momentous in my reti. I suppose th opeg prospect confusd me. I kn that my juvenile experices went for littl or nthing then; and that lfe was mre like a great fairy story, whic I was just about to begin to read, than anything el My aunt and I had hed many grave deliberatis on th calling to which I should be devoted. For a year or more I had edeavoured to find a satisfactory anr to her often-repeated question, ‘What I would lke to be?’ But I had no particular likig, that I could discver, for anythng. If I could have be ispired Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 377 wth a knowledge of th science of navigati, taken th command of a fast-sailing expediti, and go round th wrld o a triumphant voyage of divery, I think I might have cdered myself completely suited. But, in th absence of any such miraculous provision, my desire was to apply myself to some pursuit that would not lie too heaviy upo her purse; and to do my duty in it, whatever it might be Mr. Dick had regularly assisted at our coun, with a meditative and sage demeanur. He never made a suggestion but onc; and on that occason (I do’t know what put it in his head), he suddey proposed that I should be ‘a Brazir’. My aunt received this propoal so very ungraciously, that he never ventured o a sed; but ever afterwards confined hif to ookig watchfully at her for her suggesti, and rattling his money. ‘Trot, I te you what, my dear,’ said my aunt, one morng in the Christmas seas when I lft school: ‘as this knotty pot is still unttld, and as we must not make a mistake in our decision f we can help it, I think we had better take a little breathing-tim In th meanwhile, you must try to look at it fro a new point of view, and not as a shoolboy.’ ‘I wi, aunt.’ ‘It has occurred to me,’ pursued my aunt, ‘that a lttle cange, and a glps of lfe out of doors, may be useful in helpig you to know your own mind, and form a cor judget. Suppose you were to go down into the old part of the country agai, for itanc, and s that—that out-of-the-way woan with the savagest of names,’ said my aunt, rubbig hr nose, for she could nver thoroughly forgive Peggotty for beg so calld. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 378 ‘Of all thgs in th world, aunt, I should like it best!’ ‘Well,’ said my aunt, ‘that’s lucky, for I should like it to But it’s natural and ratial that you should like it. And I am very we persuaded that whatever you do, Trot, wll always be natural and rational’ ‘I hope so, aunt.’ ‘Your sister, Betsy Trotwd,’ said my aunt, ‘would have be as natural and ratioal a girl as ever breathed. You’l be worthy of her, won’t you?’ ‘I hope I shall be worthy of you, aunt. That wi be enough for me.’ ‘It’s a mercy that poor dear baby of a mothr of yours didn’t live,’ said my aunt, looking at me approvingly, ‘or she’d have be so vain of her boy by this time, that hr soft littl had wuld have be cpltely turned, if there was anything of it lft to turn.’ (My aunt always excused any weakness of her own in my bealf, by transferring it in this way to my poor mothr.) ‘Bless me, Trotwood, how you do remid m of her!’ ‘Pleasantly, I hope, aunt?’ said I. ‘He’s as like her, Dick,’ said my aunt, ephatically, ‘he’s as lke her, as sh was that afternoon before s began to fret—bl my heart, he’s as lke her, as he can look at m out of his two eyes!’ ‘Is he indeed?’ said Mr. Dick. ‘And he’s lke David, to,’ said my aunt, decisivey. ‘He is very like David!’ said Mr. Dick. ‘But what I want you to be, Trot,’ resumed my aunt, ‘—I don’t man physialy, but mrally; you are very wel physialy—i, a firm fellow. A fin firm fellow, with a wi of your own With resoluti,’ said my aunt, shaking her cap at me, and clenchig Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 379 hr hand. ‘With determation. With character, Trot—with trength of caracter that i nt to be influend, excpt on good reason, by anybody, or by anything. That’s what I want you to be That’s what your father and mother might both have be, Heave knows, and be the better for it.’ I intimated that I hoped I should be what sh deribed. ‘That you may begin, in a sal way, to have a relanc upon yourself, and to act for yourself,’ said my aunt, ‘I shall send you upon your trip, al I did think, onc, of Mr. Dik’s going with you; but, on second thughts, I shal keep him to take care of me.’ Mr. Dick, for a moment, looked a littl disapponted; until th honour and dignty of having to take care of the mot wonderful wan i the world, retored the sun to his fac ‘Besides,’ said my aunt, ‘thre’s the Memorial—’ ‘Oh, certaiy,’ said Mr. Dick, in a hurry, ‘I inted, Trotwd, to get that done immediatey—it really must be done immediatey! Ad then it wil go in, you know—and then—’ said Mr. Dik, after cheking hif, and pausg a long time, ‘thre’ll be a pretty kettle of fis!’ In pursuan of my aunt’s kind sheme, I was shortly afterwards fitted out with a hands purse of moy, and a portmanteau, and tederly dismissed upo my expediti. At parting, my aunt gave me som god advice, and a god many kisses; and said that as her object was that I should look about me, and should think a littl, she would red me to stay a fe days in London, if I liked it, eithr on my way dow ito Suffok, or i cg back. In a word, I was at liberty to do what I would, for thre wks or a month; and no othr conditions were imposed upon my freedo than the before-metioned thinkig and lookig Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 380 about m, and a pldge to write three tim a week and faithfully report mysf. I went to Canterbury first, that I mght take lave of Agn and Mr. Wikfield (my old room in whose house I had not yet relinquished), and also of th god Doctor. Agnes was very glad to me, and told me that th house had not bee like itself since I had left it. ‘I am sure I am not like myself wh I am away,’ said I. ‘I se to want my right hand, when I m you. Though that’s nt saying muc; for there’s no head in my right hand, and no heart. Everyone who knows you, coults with you, and i guided by you, Agnes.’ ‘Everyo w knows me, spois me, I believe,’ she answered, siling. ‘No. it’s beause you are lke no one els. You are so good, and so swet-tepered. You have such a gentle nature, and you are always right.’ ‘You talk,’ said Agne, breaking ito a plasant laugh, as she sat at work, ‘as if I were th late Miss Larkins.’ ‘Come! It’s nt fair to abuse my cofidenc,’ I anered, reddeg at the reecti of my blue enaver. ‘But I sal nfide in you, just th same, Agnes. I can never gro out of that. Whever I fall into trouble, or fal in love, I shall always tell you, if you’ll let me—even wh I come to fal in love in earnt.’ ‘Why, you have always be in earnet!’ said Agn, laughig again. ‘Oh! that was as a chd, or a shoolboy,’ said I, laughing i my turn, not without beg a little same-facd. ‘Ti are altering now, and I suppose I shal be in a terribl state of earntns on Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 381 day or other. My woder is, that you are nt i earnt yoursf, by this time, Agnes.’ Agn laughed agai, and shook her head. ‘Oh, I know you are not!’ said I, ‘beause if you had bee you would have told m Or at least’—for I saw a fait blush i her face, ‘you wuld have let me fid it out for myself. But thre is no you, Agnes. Someo of a one that I know of, who derves to lve nbler character, and more worthy altogether than anyone I have ever seen here, must ri up, before I give my conset. In the tim to come, I shall have a wary eye o all admirers; and shall exact a great deal fro th succesful on, I assure you.’ We had go on, so far, in a mixture of confidential jest and earnt, that had long gron naturally out of our familiar relatis, begun as mere childre But Agnes, now suddely liftig up her eye to mine, and speakig in a different manner, said: ‘Trotwood, there i sthing that I want to ask you, and that I may nt have another opportunity of askig for a log tim, perhaps—something I wuld ask, I thk, of no on el. Have you obsrved any gradual alteration in Papa?’ I had obsrved it, and had often wondered whether se had too. I must have shon as much, now, in my face; for her eye wre in a moment cast dow, and I saw tears in th ‘Tell me what it is,’ she said, in a l voice. ‘I think—shall I be quite plain, Agns, liking hi so much?’ ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I think he do himf no good by the habit that has ireasd upon him sie I first cam here. He is often very nervous—or I fany so’ ‘It is not fancy,’ said Agne, shakig her head. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 382 ‘His hand trebl, hi spee is not plain, and his eye look wld. I have remarked that at th times, and w h i least like hmself, he is most certain to be wanted on some business.’ ‘By Uriah,’ said Agns. ‘Ye; and the s of beg unfit for it, or of not having understood it, or of having shown his cnditin in spite of himf, ses to make him so unasy, that next day h is wrs, and next day wors, and so he becomes jaded and haggard. Do not be alarmed by what I say, Agnes, but in this state I saw hi, only th other evenig, lay down his head upon his dek, and sed tears like a child.’ Her hand passd softly before my lips while I was yet speaking, and i a mt she had met her father at the door of the room, and was hangig on his shoulder. The expreson of her fac, as they both looked towards me, I felt to be very touchig. There was such deep fondness for him, and gratitude to hm for al his love and care, in her beautiful look; and thre was such a fervet appeal to me to deal tenderly by hi, eve in my it thoughts, and to let no harsh cnstruction find any place against hi; sh as, at oce, so proud of him and devoted to hi, yet so compassionate and sorry, and so reliant upo me to be so, to; that nothing she could have said would have expressed more to me, or moved me more We were to drink tea at the Doctor’s. We wet there at the usual hour; and round the study fireside found the Doctor, and his young wife, and her mothr. Th Doctor, wh made as much of my going away as if I were going to Cha, recved me as an honoured guest; and called for a log of wood to be thrown on the fire, that he might se the fac of hi old pupi reddeg in the Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 383 blaze ‘I shall not see many more new faces in Trotwd’s stead, Wickfid,’ said th Doctor, warming hs hands; ‘I am getting lazy, and want ease I shall relinquish al my young people in anthr sx moth, and lad a quiter life’ ‘You have said so, any time th ten years, Doctor,’ Mr. Wikfield anered. ‘But no I mean to do it,’ returnd the Doctor. ‘My first master wll succeed me—I am in earnt at last—s you’ll soo have to arrange our contracts, and to bind us firmly to th, like a couple of knave’ ‘And to take care,’ said Mr. Wickfid, ‘that you’re not imposed on, e? A you crtainly would be, in any cotract you should make for yourself. Wel! I am ready. Thre are wors tasks than that, in my calling.’ ‘I shall have nothing to think of then,’ said the Dotor, with a smil, ‘but my Dictionary; and th othr contract-bargain— Annie.’ A Mr. Wikfid gland towards her, stting at the tea table by Agnes, she sed to me to avod his look with such unnted hsitation and tidity, that his attention beame fixed upo hr, as if sthing were suggested to his thoughts. ‘Thre is a post come in fro India, I obsrve,’ he said, after a short silence. ‘By the by! and ltters from Mr. Jack Maldon!’ said the Doctor. ‘Indeed!’ ‘Poor dear Jack!’ said Mrs. Markleham, shakig her head. ‘That tryig cate!—like lvig, they te me, on a sand-heap, underneath a burnig-glas! He looked strong, but he was’t. My Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 384 dear Doctor, it was his spirit, not hs cotituti, that h ventured o so boldly. A, my dear, I am sure you must perfetly rellect that your cous never was strong—not wat can be calld robust, you kn,’ said Mrs. Marklam, with emphasis, and lookig round upo us genrally, ‘—from the tim when my daughter and hif were chdre together, and walkig about, arm-in-arm, th livelong day.’ Annie, thus addressed, made no reply. ‘Do I gather from what you say, ma’am, that Mr. Maldo is il?’ asked Mr. Wickfid. ‘Ill!’ replied th Old Soldier. ‘My dear sir, h’s all sorts of things.’ ‘Except we?’ said Mr. Wickfield. ‘Excpt we, indeed!’ said th Old Soldier. ‘He has had dreadful strokes of th sun, no doubt, and jungle fevers and agues, and every kind of thing you can mention. As to hs liver,’ said th Old Soldier resignedly, ‘that, of course, he gave up altogethr, wh he first went out!’ ‘Dos he say all this?’ asked Mr. Wickfid. ‘Say? My dear sir,’ returned Mrs. Marklham, sakig her head and her fan, ‘you little know my poor Jack Maldo when you ask that question. Say? Not he. You might drag him at the hee of four wid horse first.’ ‘Mama!’ said Mrs. Strog. ‘Anie, my dear,’ returned her mother, ‘one for al, I must realy beg that you wil nt interfere with me, unle it i to confirm what I say. You kn as we as I do that your cousin Maldo would be dragged at the heels of any number of wid hrses—why should I confine myself to four! I won’t confi Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 385 mysf to four—eght, sixtee, two-and-thirty, rather than say anythg calulated to overturn the Doctor’s plans.’ ‘Wickfield’s plans,’ said th Doctor, stroking hi face, and lookig pentently at his adviser. ‘That is to say, our joint plans for hm. I said mysef, abroad or at hoe.’ ‘And I said’ added Mr. Wickfid gravey, ‘abroad. I was th means of sending him abroad. It’s my responsibiity.’ ‘Oh! Reponsbilty!’ said the Old Sodir. ‘Everything was do for the bet, my dear Mr. Wikfield; everythig was do for th kindet and bet, we know. But if the dear fellow can’t live there, he can’t lve there. And if he can’t live there, he’ll die there, sooner than he’l overturn the Doctor’s plan I know him,’ said the Old Soldier, fanning hersf, in a sort of calm prophtic agoy, ‘and I know he’l die there, sooner than he’l overturn the Doctor’s plan’ ‘Well, we, ma’am,’ said the Doctor cheerfuly, ‘I am nt bigoted to my plans, and I can overturn them mysf. I can substitute s thr plans. If Mr. Jack Maldon comes ho on account of i alth, he must not be allowd to go back, and w must edeavour to make some more suitable and fortunate provision for him in this country.’ Mrs. Marklam was so overc by this genrous speh— wich, I ned not say, she had not at all expected or led up to— that she could only te th Doctor it was like hif, and go veral times through that operation of kissg th sticks of hr fan, and th tapping his hand with it. After which she gently chid hr daughter Annie, for not being more demonstrative w such kindn were showered, for her sake, on her old playfellow; and etertained us with some particulars conrning othr deserving members of her famly, wh it was desirabl to set o thr Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 386 deserving legs l this time, her daughter An never once spoke, or lifted up her eyes. A this tim, Mr. Wikfied had his glan upon her as she sat by his own daughter’s side. It appeared to me that h never thought of beg observed by anyone; but was so itent upon her, and upon h own thoughts in cnnexi with her, as to be quite absorbed. He now asked wat Mr. Jack Maldo had actually written in referen to himf, and to whom he had written? ‘Why, here,’ said Mrs. Marklam, takig a letter fro th chimney-piece above th Doctor’s head, ‘th dear fe says to th Doctor hmself—wre is it? Oh!—“I am sorry to inform you that my health is suffering severely, and that I fear I may be reduced to th necessity of returning ho for a time, as th oly hope of restorati” That’s pretty plai, poor fellow! His only hpe of restoration! But Annie’s letter is plainer still. Annie, sho me that letter again.’ ‘Not no, mama,’ she pleaded in a l to ‘My dear, you absutey are, on so subjects, oe of the mt ridiulus perso i the world,’ returned her mother, ‘and perhaps the mot unnatural to the clai of your own famiy. We ver should have hard of th letter at all, I believe, unles I had asked for it myself. Do you call that confidece, my love, toards Dotor Strong? I am surprisd. You ought to know better.’ The letter was reluctantly produced; and as I handed it to the old lady, I saw how the unwillg hand from whic I took it, trembld. ‘Now let us se,’ said Mrs. Marklham, putting her glas to her eye, ‘whre th passage is. “Th remembrance of od times, my dearest Ae”—and s forth—it’s nt there. “The amable old Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 387 Proctor”—who’s he? Dear m, An, how ilgibly your cousi Maldon write, and ho stupid I am! “Dotor,” of course. Ah! amiabl indeed!’ Here she left off, to kiss her fan again, and shake it at the Doctor, who was lookig at us in a state of placd satisfacti ‘Now I have found it. “ You may nt be surprisd to har, A,”—n, to be sure, kng that he never was realy strong; what did I say just now?—“that I have undergo so much in this distant plac, as to have decded to leave it at all hazards; o sick leave, if I can; on total regnation, if that is not to be btaind. What I have endured, and do endure here, is insupportabl.” And but for th proptitude of that best of creatures,’ said Mrs. Marklham, telgraphig the Doctor as before, and refoldig the ltter, ‘it would be inupportabl to m to think of.’ Mr. Wikfid said nt one word, though the old lady loked to hm as if for his commentary o this intelligence; but sat severely st, with hi eye fixed on the ground. Long after the subjet was dismissed, and othr topics occupid us, he remained so; seldom raig his eye, unless to rest th for a moment, wth a thoughtful frown, upon the Doctor, or his wife, or both. Th Doctor was very fond of music. Agnes sang with great swetness and expresion, and so did Mrs. Strong. Thy sang together, and played duets together, and we had quite a lttle ncert. But I remarked tw things: first, that thugh Annie soo revered her coposure, and was quite herself, there was a blank betw her and Mr. Wikfid which separated th wlly fro ach othr; sedly, that Mr. Wickfid seed to dislike th timacy betwee her and Agn, and to watch it with uneas And now, I must confess, th rellection of what I had see on Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 388 that night when Mr. Maldo went away, first began to return upo me with a meaning it had never had, and to trouble me. Th innocent beauty of hr face was not as innocent to me as it had been; I mtrusted the natural grace and charm of her maner; and when I looked at Agn by her side, and thought how good and true Agne was, suspicions aro within me that it was an illassorted friendship. She was so happy in it hersf, hover, and th othr was so happy too, that they made the eveg fly away as if it were but an hur. It closd in an incident which I we remember. Thy wre taking leave of each othr, and Agnes was going to ebrac hr and ki her, when Mr. Wikfield stepped between them, as if by accident, and dre Agnes quikly away. Th I saw, as thugh all the iterveng tim had be canced, and I were sti standig in th doorway on th night of th departure, th expression of that night in the fac of Mrs. Strog, as it confroted his. I cannot say wat an impresion this made upo me, or ho pobl I found it, when I thought of her afterwards, to separate hr fro this look, and remember her face in its innocent loveliness again. It haunted me wh I got ho I sed to have ft the Doctor’s roof with a dark cloud lwering on it. The reveren that I had for his grey head, was migld with cration for his faith in those who were treacerous to hi, and with resetmt against those who injured him The impending shadow of a great affliction, and a great disgrace that had no distict form in it yet, fell like a stain upo th quiet plac ere I had wrked and played as a boy, and did it a cruel wrong. I had n pleasure in thinkig, any more, of the grave old broadlaved aloe-trees, wh reaied sut up in themsves a Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 389 hundred years together, and of the trim smooth gras-plot, and the sto urns, and th Doctor’s walk, and th congeial sound of th Cathedral be hoverig above them al It was as if the tranqui anctuary of my boyhood had be sacked before my fac, and its peac and honour given to the winds But mrnig brought with it my parting from the old house, wich Agne had fid with her influe; and that occupied my mind sufficiently. I should be thre again soo, no doubt; I might seep agai—perhaps often—i my old room; but the days of my ihabiting there were gone, and the old tim was past. I was heavir at heart when I packed up suc of my books and cothes as til remaid there to be set to Dover, than I cared to show to Uriah Hep; wh was so officious to help me, that I uncharitably thought hi mighty glad that I was going. I got away from Agn and her father, sohow, with an different show of beg very manly, and took my seat upon the box of th London coach. I was so softed and forgiving, gog through the town, that I had half a mind to nod to my old eny the butcher, and throw him five shgs to drik. But he looked such a very obdurate butcr as he stod scraping th great blk in th shop, and morever, his appearance was so littl improved by the lo of a front tooth whic I had knocked out, that I thought it best to make no advan Th main object on my mid, I remember, wh w got fairly o th road, was to appear as old as possible to th coachman, and to speak extremy gruff. The latter pot I acved at great persal inveience; but I stuck to it, becaus I felt it was a grown-up sort of thing. ‘You are going through, sir?’ said th coachman. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 390 ‘Ye, William,’ I said, condescendingly (I kn hm); ‘I am going to London. I shal go down ito Suffolk afterwards’ ‘Shooting, sir?’ said the coacan He knew as we as I did that it was just as likely, at that time of year, I was going down there whalg; but I felt coplimted, too. ‘I don’t kn,’ I said, pretending to be undecided, ‘whther I shall take a shot or not.’ ‘Birds is got wery shy, I’m tod,’ said Wiiam. ‘So I understand,’ said I. ‘Is Suffok your county, sir?’ asked William. ‘Yes,’ I said, with some importance. ‘Suffolk’s my county.’ ‘I’m told th dumplings is unmmon fi dow thre,’ said Willam. I was not aware of it myself, but I felt it necesary to uphd th institution of my county, and to evince a familiarity wth th; so I shook my head, as muc as to say, ‘I believe you!’ ‘And the Puns,’ said Wiliam. ‘Thre’s cattle! A Suffolk Punch, when he’s a good un, is worth his weight in gold. Did you ever breed any Suffolk Punches yoursf, sir?’ ‘N-n,’ I said, ‘nt exactly.’ ‘Here’s a ge’l’n bed me, I’l pound it,’ said Wiiam, ‘as has bred ’em by wholesale.’ Th gentleman spoke of was a gentlman with a very unprosing squint, and a prot chi, wh had a tal white hat on with a narrow flat bri, and whose cose-fitting drab trousers sed to button al the way up outside hi legs from hi bots to his hips. His chi was cocked over th coachman’s houlder, so nar to me, that his breath quite tickld the back of Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 391 my head; and as I looked at hi, he leered at the laders wth th eye with which he didn’t squit, in a very kng manr. ‘Ai’t you?’ asked Wiliam. ‘Ai’t I what?’ said the getlman bed. ‘Bred them Suffolk Punches by wholeale?’ ‘I should think s,’ said the gentlan. ‘There ain’t n sort of orse that I ain’t bred, and no sort of dorg. Orse and dorgs is some m’s fancy. They’re wittle and drik to me—lodging, wife, and childre—reading, writig, and ’rithtic—snuff, tobacker, and seep.’ ‘That ain’t a sort of man to se sitting bend a coac-box, is it thugh?’ said William in my ear, as he handled th reins. I cotrued this remark into an idiation of a wis that he should have my place, so I blusngly offered to resign it. ‘Well, if you don’t mind, sir,’ said Willam, ‘I think it would be mre correct.’ I have always considered this as th first fall I had in life Whe I booked my place at the coach offic I had had ‘Box Seat’ written agait the entry, and had give the book-keeper half-a-cro. I was got up in a speal great-coat and shawl, expresly to do hur to that distinguished emce; had glrified myself upo it a god deal; and had felt that I was a credit to th coach. And hre, in th very first stage, I was supplanted by a shabby man th a squint, wh had no othr merit than smelng like a liverystables, and being able to walk across me, more like a fly than a human beg, while th horses were at a canter! A distrust of myself, which has often bet me in lfe o small ccasis, w it would have be better away, was assuredly not stopped in its groth by this littl incident outside th Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 392 Canterbury coac It was in vain to take refuge in gruffns of spee I spoke fro th pit of my stoach for th rest of th journey, but I felt completely extinguished, and dreadfully young. It was curius and interesting, neverthless, to be sitting up there bed four hors: we educated, we dresd, and with plty of my i my poket; and to lok out for the plac where I had slpt on my weary journey. I had abundant occupati for my thughts, in every conspicuous landmark on th road. Whe I looked down at the trampers whom we pasd, and saw that wellrebered style of fac turned up, I felt as if the tiker’s blacked hand were in th bo of my shrt agai Wh we attered through the narrow street of Chatham, and I caught a glpse, in pasg, of the lan were the old mter lved w had bought my jacket, I stretched my nek eagerly to look for the place were I had sat, i the sun and i the shade, waitig for my money. Whe we came, at last, within a stage of London, and pased the veritable Sal House where Mr. Creakle had laid about him with a heavy hand, I would have given al I had, for lawful permin to get down and thras him, and let al the boys out like so many caged sparro We wet to the Gode Cross at Charig Cross, then a mouldy srt of establt in a cose neghbourhood. A waiter showed me ito th coffe-ro; and a chambermaid introducd me to my small bedchamber, wich smelt like a hackney-cach, and was shut up like a famly vault. I was still painfully conscius of my youth, for nobody stod in any awe of me at all: th chambermaid beg utterly indifferent to my opi on any subjet, and the waiter beig famliar with me, and offering advice to my inexperice. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 393 ‘Well n,’ said the waiter, i a to of cofidence, ‘what wuld you like for dinner? Young gentlemen likes poultry i geral: have a fowl!’ I tod hi, as majetialy as I could, that I was’t in th humour for a fowl ‘Ai’t you?’ said the waiter. ‘Young getlmen is geraly tired of bef and mutton: have a weal cutlet!’ I assented to this propoal, in default of being able to suggest anythng el ‘Do you care for taters?’ said th waiter, with an insinuating smil, and his head on on side. ‘Young gentlemen gerally has be overdod with taters.’ I commanded him, in my deepet voice, to order a veal cutlt and potatoes, and all things fitting; and to inquire at the bar if there were any letters for Trotwood Copperfid, Esquire—wh I kn there were not, and couldn’t be, but thought it manly to appear to expect. He soon cam back to say that there were no (at whic I was much surprid) and began to lay th cloth for my dinnr in a box by th fire. While h was so egaged, he asked me what I would take with it; and on my replying ‘Half a pit of shrry,’ thought it a favourable opportunity, I am afraid, to extract that measure of win from the stale leavigs at the bottoms of several small decanters. I am of this opinion, beaus, w I was reading th spaper, I observed hi bend a low wde partition, wich was his private apartmt, very busy pourig out of a number of th vessels ito on, like a chet and druggist making up a prescription. Whe th wi came, to, I thught it flat; and it certainly had more English crumbs in it, than were to be expected Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 394 in a foreign wi in anythng like a pure state, but I was bashful ough to drik it, and say nothing. Being th i a pleasant fram of mid (from which I infer that poisonng is not alays disagreabl i some stage of th pross), I resolved to go to th play. It was Covent Garde Theatre that I chose; and there, from the back of a cetre box, I saw Julius Caear and th ne Pantoime. To have all th nobl Romans alive before me, and walkig i and out for my etertainmet, itead of beg the stern taskmasters they had been at school, was a mot novel and deghtful effect. But the mgld realty and mystery of the whole show, the ifluenc upon me of th poetry, th lights, th music, th company, th smooth stupedous changes of glittering and brilliant scry, were so dazzlg, and oped up suc iltable regions of delight, that when I cam out into the raiy street, at twelve o’cock at nght, I felt as if I had co from the couds, where I had be ladig a romantic life for age, to a bawing, splashing, link-lighted, umbrea-strugglig, hackny-coac-jostlig, patten-ckig, muddy, miserabl world. I had eerged by another door, and stood i the street for a lttle whe, as if I realy were a stranger upo earth: but th unceremonious pushing and hustling that I received, soo recalled m to mysf, and put m in the road back to the hotel; whither I wnt, revolving th glrious vision all th way; and whre, after some porter and oysters, I sat revolving it still, at past on o’clock, wth my eyes on the coffee-room fire I was so fid with th play, and with th past—for it was, i a manner, like a shining transparecy, through which I saw my earlir lfe moving along—that I do’t know when the figure of a Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 395 handsome w-formed young man dred with a tasteful easy negligece wich I have reason to remember very well, became a real prece to me. But I ret beg conscious of hi mpany withut having noticed his coming i—and my sti ttig, musg, over the coffee-room fire t last I rose to go to bed, muc to the relf of the slpy waiter, who had got the fidgets in his legs, and was twistig them, and hitting them, and putting them through al kids of ctortions in his smal pantry. In going towards the door, I passed th pers wh had come in, and saw hi plaiy. I turnd directly, came back, and looked again. He did not kn me, but I knew him in a moment. t another tim I mght have wanted the cofide or the de to speak to him, and might have put it off until next day, and mght have lot him But, in the then coditi of my md, wre th play was still running high, hi formr proteti of me appeared so deserving of my gratitude, and my old love for hi overflowed my breast so fresy and spontanously, that I wet up to him at onc, with a fast-beating heart, and said: ‘Steerforth! won’t you speak to me?’ He looked at me—just as he used to look, sotim—but I saw no regnition in his face. ‘You don’t remember me, I am afraid,’ said I. ‘My God!’ he suddeny exclaimed. ‘It’s littl Copperfield!’ I grasped hi by both hands, and could nt let them go. But for very shame, and th fear that it might displease him, I could have ld him round th neck and crid. ‘I nver, nver, nver was s glad! My dear Sterforth, I am s overjoyed to see you!’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 396 ‘And I am rejoicd to see you, too!’ he said, shakig my hands heartily. ‘Why, Copperfied, old boy, do’t be overpowered!’ And yet he was glad, too, I thought, to s how th deght I had in meeting him affected me. I brusd away th tears that my utmost resoluti had not bee able to keep back, and I made a clumsy laugh of it, and we at down together, side by side ‘Why, how do you co to be here?’ said Steerforth, clappig m on the shoulder. ‘I cam here by the Canterbury coach, today. I have been adopted by an aunt down i that part of the country, and have just you c to be here, finished my education thre Ho do Steerforth?’ ‘Wel, I am what thy call an Oxford man,’ he returnd; ‘that is to say, I get bored to death down there, periodially—and I am on my way now to my mothr’s. You’re a devilish amiable-lookig fellow, Copperfield. just what you usd to be, now I look at you! Not altered i the least!’ ‘I knew you idiately,’ I said; ‘but you are more easy remembered.’ He laughed as he ran his hand through the clustering curls of his hair, and said gaiy: ‘Ye, I am on an expedition of duty. My mother lives a lttle way out of town; and the roads beg i a beastly cnditi, and our house tedious enough, I remaid here tonight itead of going on. I have nt be in town half-a-dozen hours, and those I have bee dozing and grumbling away at th play.’ ‘I have be at the play, to,’ said I. ‘At Covet Garde. What a deghtful and magnifit etertainmet, Sterforth!’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 397 Steerforth laughed heartily. ‘My dear young Davy,’ he said, clappig me o the shoulder again, ‘you are a very Daisy. Th daisy of th fid, at sunrise, is nt fresher than you are. I have been at Covet Garden, too, and thre never was a more miserabl busines. Holloa, you sir!’ Th was addresd to the waiter, who had been very attetive to our regnition, at a distance, and now came forward deferentially. ‘Where have you put my friend, Mr. Copperfield?’ said Steerforth. ‘Beg your pardo, sir?’ ‘Where do he sleep? What’s his number? You know what I man,’ said Sterforth ‘Well, sir,’ said the waiter, wth an apologeti air. ‘Mr. pperfield is at pret in forty-four, sir.’ ‘And wat th devil do you mean,’ retorted Sterforth, ‘by putting Mr. Copperfield into a littl loft over a stable?’ ‘Why, you see we was’t aware, sir,’ returned the waiter, sti apolgetically, ‘as Mr. Copperfield was anyways particular. We can give Mr. Copperfield seventy-tw, sir, if it would be preferred. Next you, sir.’ ‘Of course it would be preferred,’ said Sterforth ‘And do it at onc.’ The waiter imdiatey withdrew to make the exchange Sterforth, very much amusd at my having bee put into fortyfour, laughd again, and clapped me on th shoulder again, and ivited m to breakfast with hi nxt mornig at ten o’cock—an ivitation I was ony too proud and happy to acpt. It beg n pretty late, we tok our candles and went upstairs, wre w parted wth friendly heartiss at his door, and whre I found my Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 398 nw room a great improvemt on my old one, it nt beg at all musty, and having an immense four-pot bedstead i it, wich was quite a lttle landed estate. Here, amg piws enough for six, I soo fe asleep in a blissful condition, and dreamd of ancient Rome, Sterforth, and friendship, until th early morng coacs, rumbling out of th archway undernath, made me dream of thunder and the gods Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 399 Chapter 20 STEERFORTH’S HOME W hn th chambermaid tapped at my door at eight o’clock, and informd me that my shavig-water was utside, I felt severely th having no occasion for it, and blusd in my bed. Th suspicion that she laughd to, wh she said it, preyed upo my mind all th time I was dreng; and gave me, I was conscious, a sneaking and guilty air w I passed her on the staircase, as I was going down to breakfast. I was so nsitivey aware, indeed, of beg younger than I could have ished, that for some time I could not make up my mind to pass r at all, under th ignobl circumstances of th case; but, hearig her there with a broom, stood peepig out of window at King Charles on horseback, surrounded by a maze of hackneycoaches, and lookig anythng but regal in a drizzling rai and a dark-brown fog, until I was admd by the waiter that the gentleman was waitig for me. It was nt in the coffee-room that I found Steerforth expetig me, but in a snug private apartmt, red-curtained and Turkeycarpeted, where the fire burnt bright, and a fin hot breakfast was t forth on a tabl covered wth a clean cloth; and a cherful ature of the room, the fire, the breakfast, Steerforth, and al, was sg i the lttle round mirror over the sideboard. I was rathr bashful at first, Sterforth beg so self-pod, and egant, and superior to me in all respets (age iuded); but hi asy patronage soon put that to rights, and made me quite at Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 400 home I could not enough admre the change he had wrought i the Goden Cross; or copare the dul forlorn state I had held yesterday, with this morng’s comfort and this morning’s entertaient. A to the waiter’s famarity, it was quenced as if it had nver be He attended on us, as I may say, in sackcoth and ashes. ‘Now, Cpperfield,’ said Sterforth, wh we were alon, ‘I should like to har what you are doing, and whre you are going, and all about you. I fe as if you were my property.’ Glowing with pleasure to find that he had still this interest in me, I told him ho y aunt had proposed the little expedition that I had before m, and whithr it tended. ‘As you are in n hurry, then,’ said Steerforth, ‘come home with to Highgate, and stay a day or two. You wil be plasd with my mther—she is a lttle vain and prosy about me, but that you can forgive her—and she wi be pleasd with you.’ ‘I should like to be as sure of that, as you are kind eugh to say you are,’ I anred, smiling. ‘Oh!’ said Steerforth, ’everyone who like me, has a cai on hr that is sure to be ackndged.’ ‘Thn I thk I shall be a favourite,’ said I. ‘Good!’ said Sterforth ‘Co and prove it. We wi go and se the lons for an hour or two—it’s sothing to have a fresh fellow lke you to show them to, Copperfied—and then we’l journey out to Highgate by the coach.’ I could hardly belve but that I was in a dream, and that I should wake pretly in number forty-four, to the sotary box in the cffee-room and the famar waiter agai After I had writte to my aunt and tod her of my fortunate meetig with my admired Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 401 old schoolfellow, and my acptan of his ivitatio, we went out i a hackny-chariot, and saw a Panrama and so other sights, and took a walk through the Museum, where I could not help obsrving how muc Steerforth knew, on an infinte variety of subjets, and of how lttle acunt he sed to make his knowledge ‘You’ll take a high degree at coege, Steerforth,’ said I, ‘if you have not done so already; and thy will have god reason to be proud of you.’ ‘I take a degre!’ cried Sterforth ‘Not I! my dear Daiy—w you mid my callg you Daiy?’ ‘Not at al!’ said I. ‘That’s a good felw! My dear Daiy,’ said Steerforth, laughing. ‘I have not the least dere or intenti to ditiguish mysf i that way. I have done quite sufficient for my purpo I fid that I am heavy company enough for mysf as I am.’ ‘But the fam—’ I was beginnig. ‘You romantic Daiy!’ said Sterforth, laughng still more heartily: ‘why should I troubl mysf, that a parce of heavyheaded felws may gape and hold up their hands? Let them do it at some othr man There’s fame for hi, and he’s wee to it.’ I was abasd at having made so great a mistake, and was glad to cange the subjet. Fortunatey it was nt difficult to do, for Steerforth culd always pas from one subject to another with a carelesss and lightnss that were his own. Lunch sucded to our sight-seeing, and the short winter day wre away so fast, that it was dusk wh th stage-coac stopped with us at an old brik house at Highgate on the sumt of the hi An elderly lady, thugh not very far advanced in years, wth a Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 402 proud carriage and a handsome face, was in th doorway as w alghted; and greetig Steerforth as ‘My dearest Jam,’ folded hm i hr arm. To this lady he preted me as his mothr, and se gave me a stately wee. It was a gente old-fashioned house, very quiet and orderly. From the windows of my room I saw al London lyig in the ditanc lke a great vapour, with here and there so lights twinklg through it. I had oy tim, i dreg, to glan at the sd furnture, the framed pi of work (done, I supposed, by Steerforth’s mother when she was a girl), and so pitures in crayos of ladi with powdered hair and bodices, comng and going on the wall, as the nwly-kidld fire crackld and sputtered, when I was caled to dier. Thre was a second lady in th dining-ro, of a slight short figure, dark, and nt agreeable to look at, but with s appearan of good loks too, who attracted my attenti: perhaps beause I had nt expeted to see her; perhaps beause I found mysf sitting oppote to her; perhaps beause of sthing really rearkable in hr. Sh had black hair and eager black eye, and was thin, and had a scar upo hr lip. It was an old scar—I should rathr call it seam, for it was not discoloured, and had haled years ago—whic had onc cut through her muth, downward toards th chin, but was now barely visibl acro th tabl, except above and o hr upper lip, th shape of which it had altered. I coluded in my own mind that she was about thirty years of age, and that she wed to be married. Sh was a lttl dilapidated—like a house—with having bee so long to let; yet had, as I have said, an appearan of good looks Her thin d to be th effect of some wasting fire within her, which Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 403 found a vet in her gaunt eyes She was introducd as Miss Dartle, and both Sterforth and h ther caled her Roa. I found that she lved there, and had be for a long time Mrs. Sterforth’s companion. It appeared to me that she never said anythng she wanted to say, outright; but hnted it, and made a great deal more of it by this practice. For example, when Mrs Steerforth obsrved, more in jest than earnt, that se feared her so led but a wid life at coge, Mi Dartle put in thus: ‘Oh, realy? You know how ignrant I am, and that I only ask for iformatin, but is’t it always so? I thought that kid of lfe was on al hands understood to be—eh?’ ‘It is education for a very grave profesion, if you mean that, Rosa,’ Mrs Sterforth answered with som coldness. ‘Oh! Yes! That’s very true,’ returned Miss Dartl. ‘But isn’t it, though?—I want to be put right, if I am wrong—i’t it, realy?’ ‘Realy what?’ said Mrs. Steerforth ‘Oh! You mean it’s not!’ returnd Miss Dartle. ‘Wel, I’m very glad to hear it! Now, I kn what to do! That’s th advantage of asking. I shall never allow people to talk before me about wastefulness and profligacy, and so forth, in connexi with that lfe, any more.’ ‘And you wi be right,’ said Mrs. Steerforth ‘My son’s tutor is a conscitius gentleman; and if I had not implicit reliance o my s, I should have relian on him’ ‘Should you?’ said Miss Dartle. ‘Dear me! Ccientious, is h? Really conscientious, now?’ ‘Yes, I am convinced of it,’ said Mrs. Steerforth ‘How very nice!’ exclaimed Mi Dartl. ‘What a comfort! Realy Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 404 ctious? Then he’s nt—but of course he can’t be, if he’s really conscitius Well, I shal be quite happy i my opinion of hi, from this tim You can’t think how it elevate him i my opinion, to kn for certain that he’s really conscientious!’ Her own views of every question, and her correcti of everythng that was said to which she was opposed, Miss Dartle insinuated i th same way: sometimes, I could not conceal fro myself, wth great powr, thugh in contradiction eve of Sterforth An instance happened before dinner was done. Mrs Sterforth speakig to me about my intenti of going down into Suffolk, I said at hazard how glad I should be, if Steerforth would only go there with me; and explaing to him that I was going to se my old nurs, and Mr. Peggotty’s family, I reminded hm of th boatman whom he had seen at school. ‘Oh! That bluff felw!’ said Steerforth. ‘He had a son with hi, hadn’t he?’ ‘No. That was hi nephew,’ I repld; ‘whom he adopted, though, as a son. He has a very pretty little nie too, whom he adopted as a daughter. In short, his house—or rather his boat, for he lves i one, on dry land—i full of pepl who are objects of his genrosity and kidn You would be deghted to se that household.’ ‘Should I?’ said Steerforth. ‘Well, I think I should. I must se at can be done It would be worth a journey (nt to mention th pleasure of a journey with you, Daisy), to see that sort of people together, and to make one of ’e’ My heart leaped with a new hpe of pleasure. But it was in reference to the tone in whic he had spoke of ‘that sort of peopl’, that Mis Dartle, whose sparklg eyes had be watchful Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 405 of us, now broke i agai ‘Oh, but, realy? Do te me. Are they, thugh?’ she said. ‘Are they what? And are who what?’ said Steerforth. ‘That srt of peopl—Are they realy anal and clods, and begs of another order? I want to know so much.’ ‘Why, there’s a pretty wide separation betwee them and us,’ said Steerforth, with indifferee. ‘They are not to be expeted to be as sensitive as we are Thr delicacy is not to be shoked, or hurt easy. They are woderfully virtuous, I dare say—s people conted for that, at least; and I am sure I don’t want to tradit them—but they have not very fin natures, and they may be thankful that, like thr coarse rough skins, thy are not easily wounded.’ ‘Really!’ said Miss Dartle. ‘Wel, I don’t know, now, wh I have be better pleased than to hear that. It’s so consoling! It’s such a deght to know that, when they suffer, they do’t fee! Sotim I have be quite unasy for that sort of people; but now I shal just dismiss th idea of th, altogethr. Live and learn I had my doubts, I cofess, but no they’re cleared up. I didn’t kn, and now I do kn, and that shos th advantage of asking—do’t it?’ I believed that Steerforth had said what he had, in jest, or to draw Miss Dartle out; and I expected him to say as much w she was gone, and we two were sitting before the fire. But he merely asked me what I thought of her. ‘She is very clever, is she nt?’ I asked. ‘Clever! She brigs everythig to a gridsto,’ said Steerforth, and sharpens it, as she has sharpened her own face and figure the years past. She has worn herself away by ctant sharpenng. She is all edge.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 406 ‘What a remarkabl scar that is upo her lip!’ I said. Sterforth’s face fe, and he pausd a moment. ‘Why, the fact is,’ he returned, ‘I did that.’ ‘By an unfortunate accident!’ ‘No. I was a young boy, and she exasperated me, and I thre a hamr at her. A promg young angel I must have been!’ I was deply sorry to have touched on suc a paiful them, but that was uss now ‘She has borne the mark ever sie, as you see,’ said Steerforth; ‘and she’ll bear it to her grave, if she ever rests in on—thugh I can hardly beeve she wi ever ret anywhere. She was th motherlss chid of a sort of cous of my father’s. He died one day. My mother, who was then a widow, brought her here to be pany to her. She has a coupl of thousand pounds of her own, and save th interest of it every year, to add to th principal. There’s the history of Mi Roa Dartl for you.’ ‘And I have n doubt she loves you like a brothr?’ said I. ‘Humph!’ retorted Sterforth, lookig at the fire. ‘Som brothrs are not loved over much; and some love—but help yourself, Cpperfield! We’l drik th daisies of th fid, in mpliment to you; and th lilies of th valley that toil not, neithr do thy spin, in compliment to me—th more sham for me!’ A moody smil that had overspread his feature cleared off as he said this merrily, and he was his own frank, winning self again. I could not help glancing at th scar with a paiful interest when we went in to tea. It was nt log before I obsrved that it was th most susptibl part of her face, and that, wh she turned pal, that mark altered first, and beam a dul, ladcoloured streak, lengthg out to its full extent, like a mark i Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 407 ivisble ink brought to the fire. There was a little altercati betw her and Sterforth about a cast of th dice at back gam—when I thought her, for one mot, i a storm of rage; and then I saw it start forth like the old writig on the wall It was no matter of wonder to me to find Mrs. Sterforth devoted to her so Sh sed to be able to speak or think about nothing el. She shod me his picture as an infant, in a locket, wth some of his baby-hair in it; she shod me his picture as h had been when I first knew him; and se wore at her breast hi picture as h was now All th letters he had ever written to her, she kept in a cabit near her own chair by th fire; and she wuld have read me so of them, and I should have be very glad to hear them too, if he had nt interposed, and coaxed her out of the design ‘It was at Mr. Creakl’s, my s tell m, that you first beam acquainted,’ said Mrs Sterforth, as she and I wre talking at o table, we they played backgam at another. ‘Indeed, I rellect his speaking, at that time, of a pupil younger than hmself who had take hi fancy there; but your nam, as you may suppose, has not lived in my memory.’ ‘He was very gerous and nble to me in those days, I asure you, ma’am,’ said I, ‘and I stod in ned of such a friend. I should have been quite crushed without him’ ‘He is alays gerous and nble,’ said Mrs. Steerforth, proudly. I subscribed to this with all my heart, God knows. She kn I did; for th statess of her manr already abated toards me, except wh she spoke in praise of him, and th hr air was always lofty. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 408 ‘It was nt a fit school genraly for my so,’ said she; ‘far from it; but thre wre particular circumtan to be considered at th time, of more importance eve than that selection My son’s hgh spirit made it desrabl that h should be placed with some man felt its superirity, and would be contet to bo hmself before it; and we found such a man thre’ I kn that, knowing the fel Ad yet I did not depi him the more for it, but thought it a redeg quality in hi if he could be allowd any grace for not resistig on so irresistible as Steerforth. ‘My so’s great capacty was tempted on, there, by a feeg of voluntary emulation and conscious pride,’ th fond lady went on to say. ‘He would have risen agait all constraint; but h found hielf the monarch of the place, and he haughtily determid to be worthy of his stati It was like himf.’ I ecd, with all my heart and soul, that it was like himself. ‘So my so took, of his own will, and on no cpulon, to the course in which he can alays, wh it is his plasure, outstrip every competitor,’ she pursued. ‘My son iforms me, Mr. pperfield, that you were quite devoted to him, and that when you met yesterday you made yoursf known to him with tears of joy. I should be an affected woman if I made any pretece of being surprised by my son’s inspirig such emtions; but I cant be indifferent to anyo wh is so sensible of hi merit, and I am very glad to se you hre, and can assure you that he fes an unusual friendship for you, and that you may rely on his proteti.’ Miss Dartle played backgammon as eagerly as she did everything els If I had se her, first, at the board, I should have fand that her figure had got thin, and her eye had got large, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 409 over that pursuit, and n other in the world. But I am very muc mistake if she missd a wrd of this, or lost a look of mine as I received it with th utmost pleasure, and honoured by Mrs Sterforth’s confidence, felt older than I had don si I left Canterbury. Wh the eveg was pretty far spet, and a tray of glas and deanters cam in, Steerforth promd, over the fire, that he would seriously think of going down ito the country with m There was no hurry, he said; a week hence wuld do; and hi mothr hospitably said th same. While w wre talking, h more than once calld me Daisy; which brought Miss Dartle out again. ‘But really, Mr. Copperfield,’ she asked, ‘is it a nickname? Ad why do he give it you? Is it—eh?—beaus he thinks you young and innocent? I am so stupid in th thgs.’ I coured in replyig that I beeved it was ‘Oh!’ said Miss Dartle. ‘No I am glad to kn that! I ask for information, and I am glad to kn it. He thks you young and innocent; and so you are hi friend. Well, that’s quite delightful!’ Sh went to bed soon after this, and Mrs. Sterforth retired too. Sterforth and I, after ligerig for half-an-hour over the fire, talkig about Traddl and al the rest of them at old Sal House, went upstairs together. Sterforth’s room was next to m, and I went i to look at it. It was a piture of cofort, full of easy-cairs, cushion and fotstos, worked by his mothr’s hand, and with no sort of thing omitted that culd help to render it cplete. Fially, her hands features looked down o her darlg fro a portrait on th wall, as if it were eve somthing to her that her like should watch him while he spt. I found the fire burng clar enough in my room by this tim, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 410 and th curtains drawn before th widos and round th bed, giving it a very snug appearance. I sat dow i a great chair upo th harth to meditate on my happine; and had enjoyed th nteplation of it for some time, wh I found a likene of Miss Dartle looking eagerly at me fro above th chimney-piece. It was a startlg likeness, and necesariy had a startling look. Th painter hadn’t made th scar, but I made it; and thre it was, coming and gog; now confined to th upper lip as I had se it at dier, and no showig the whole extet of the wound iflted by the hamr, as I had seen it when she was pasate I wodered peeviy why they couldn’t put her anywhere els tead of quartering her on m To get rid of her, I undred quickly, extinguisd my light, and went to bed. But, as I fell asleep, I could not forget that she was still thre lookig, ‘Is it realy, though? I want to know’; and when I awoke i the night, I found that I was unasily asking all sorts of people in my dreams whether it realy was or not—without knowing what I mant. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 411 Chapter 21 LITTLE EM’LY T here was a servant in that house, a man who, I understod, was usually with Sterforth, and had come into his service at th University, wh was in appearance a pattern of repectabity. I beeve there never existed i his station a more respectable-lking man. He was taciturn, softfoted, very quiet in his manr, deferential, obsrvant, alays at hand wh wanted, and never near w not wanted; but h great claim to conderation was hi respectabiity. He had not a plant fac, he had rather a stiff nk, rather a tight sooth head wth short hair clinging to it at th sides, a soft way of speaking, wth a pecular habit of whispering th letter S so distictly, that he seemed to use it ofter than any other man; but every peularity that he had he made respectable. If hi n had be upside-dow, h would have made that respectable. He surrounded hmself wth an atmosphre of respectabiity, and walked secure in it. It would have be next to impossibl to suspect him of anythng wrog, he was so throughly respectable. Nobody could have thought of putting hi i a livery, he was so ghly respectable. To have imposed any derogatory wrk upo , would have be to inflt a wanto inult on th fegs of a most respectable man. And of this, I noticed—th wmen-servants in th housed were so intuitivey conscius, that thy always did such work thlve, and gerally while he read th paper by the pantry fire. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 412 Such a self-ctained man I never saw. But in that quality, as i every other he pod, he only seemed to be the more respectable. Eve th fact that no on kn h Cristian name, sed to form a part of hs respectability. Nothg could be bjected against his surnam, Littimer, by which he was known. Peter might have be hanged, or Tom tranported; but Littimr was perfetly respectable. It was oasioned, I suppose, by th reverend nature of respectability in th abstract, but I felt particularly young i this man’s prece. Ho old he was himself, I could not gues—and that again went to his credit on th same score; for in th calss of respectability h might have numbered fifty years as we as thirty. Littimr was in my room in the morning before I was up, to brig m that reproacful savig-water, and to put out my cothes. Wh I undrew the curtains and looked out of bed, I saw m, in an equabl temperature of respectability, unaffected by th ast wind of January, and nt eve breathing frostily, standig my boots right and lft in the first dang potion, and blowing specks of dust off my coat as he laid it dow like a baby. I gave him god morng, and asked him what o’clock it was. He took out of his poket the mt respectable huntig-watch I ever saw, and preventig the sprig with hi thumb from openig far, lked i at th fac as if he were coultig an oracular oyster, shut it up again, and said, if I plasd, it was half past eight. ‘Mr. Steerforth wi be glad to hear ho you have rested, sir.’ ‘Thank you,’ said I, ‘very we indeed. Is Mr. Steerforth quite ll?’ ‘Thank you, sir, Mr. Steerforth i tolerably well’ Aother of hi Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 413 characteristics—no us of superlative A co cal medium always ‘Is there anything mre I can have the honour of dog for you, sir? Th warning-bell wi ring at nine; th family take breakfast at half past ni’ ‘Nothing, I thank you.’ ‘I thank you, sir, if you plas’; and with that, and with a lttle inclation of his head wh he passd th bed-side, as an apolgy for correctig me, he went out, shutting the door as delicately as if I had just fal into a swet sleep on which my life depended. Every morng we held exactly th coversation: nver any mre, and nver any les: and yet, invariably, however far I might have been lfted out of mysf over-night, and advanced towards maturer years, by Sterforth’s companionip, or Mrs Sterforth’s confidence, or Mi Dartle’s conversati, in th prece of this most repetabl man I beame, as our smaller poets sing, ‘a boy again’. He got horse for us; and Steerforth, who knew everything, gave me le in ridig. He provided foil for us, and Steerforth gave me lens in fencig—gloves, and I began, of the sam master, to improve in boxing. It gave me no manr of corn that Sterforth should find me a novice in th sciences, but I never could bear to sho my want of skill before th respectabl Littimr. I had n reas to beve that Littimr understood suc arts himf; he nver led m to suppo anything of the kid, by so much as th vibration of on of his respectable eyeashes; yet whenver he was by, whil we were practisg, I fet mysf the gret and most inexpericed of mortals. I am particular about this man, becaus he made a particular Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 414 effect o me at that time, and becaus of what tok place thereafter. The week pased away in a mt deghtful maner. It pasd rapidly, as may be supposed, to o etranced as I was; and yet it gave me so many occasion for knowg Sterforth better, and admiring him more in a thusand respects, that at its clos I seemed to have been with him for a muc lger ti. A dasg way he had of treating m like a plaything, was mre agreeable to m than any behaviour he could have adopted. It remnded m of our old acquaintance; it seed th natural seque of it; it shod me that h was unchanged; it relieved me of any unasiness I mght have felt, in coparig my merits with hi, and masuring my claims upo his friendship by any equal standard; above all, it was a familiar, unrestrained, affectionate demeanour that he usd towards no one els As he had treated me at shool differently fro all th rest, I joyfully believed that he treated me in life unlke any other fried he had. I beeved that I was nearer to hi heart than any other fried, and my own heart warmed with attact to hi He made up his mid to go with me into the cuntry, and the day arrived for our departure. He had be doubtful at first whether to take Littimr or not, but deded to leave hi at ho Th respectable creature, satisfied wth hs lot watever it was, arranged our portmanteaux on the little carriage that was to take us ito Londo, as if they were intended to defy th shoks of age, and received my modestly proffered donati with perfect tranquillity. We bade adiu to Mrs. Sterforth and Mis Dartle, with many thanks on my part, and much kindness o th devoted mothr’s. The last thing I saw was Littimr’s unruffled eye; fraught, as I Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 415 fancied, with th silent conviction that I was very young indeed. What I felt, in returng so auspiciously to th old familiar plac, I shall not endeavour to describe We went dow by th Mail. I was so conrned, I ret, eve for th hour of Yarmuth, that when Steerforth said, as we drove through its dark strets to th inn, that, as we as he could make out, it was a god, queer, out-of-the-way kid of hole, I was highly plasd. We went to bed on our arrival (I obsrved a pair of dirty shoes and gaiters in connexi with my old friend th Dophn as w passd that door), and breakfasted late in th morng. Sterforth, w was in great spirits, had be strolling about th beac before I was up, and had made acquaintance, he said, with half th boatmen in th place. Moreover, he had s, in the ditan, what he was sure must be the idetical house of Mr. Peggotty, with smoke cog out of the chy; and had had a great md, he told me, to walk i and swear he was mysf grown out of knowledge. ‘When do you propose to itroduce m there, Daiy?’ he said. ‘I am at your disposal. Make your own arrangets.’ ‘Why, I was thinkig that this eveg would be a good tim, Steerforth, when they are al sittig round the fire. I should like you to see it wh it’s snug, it’s such a curius place.’ ‘So be it!’ returned Steerforth. ‘Thi evenig.’ ‘I shall nt give them any notic that we are here, you know,’ said I, delghted. ‘We must take them by surprise.’ ‘Oh, of course! It’s n fun,’ said Steerforth, ‘unss w take them by surprise. Let us se th native in thr aborigial condition.’ ‘Though they are that sort of pepl that you metid,’ I returned. ‘Aha! What! you rellect my skirmishe with Rosa, do you?’ h Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 416 exclaid with a quick look. ‘Confound the girl, I am half afraid of hr. She’s like a gobl to me. But never mid her. Now wat are you going to do? You are going to se your nurse, I suppose?’ ‘Why, yes,’ I said, ‘I must see Peggotty first of al’ ‘Well,’ repld Steerforth, lookig at his watch. ‘Suppo I deliver you up to be cried over for a couple of hurs Is that long enough?’ I anred, laughing, that I thought we might get through it in that tim, but that he must c al; for he would find that hi renow had preded him, and that he was almost as great a persage as I was. ‘I’ll come anywre you like,’ said Steerforth, ‘or do anythg you like Tell m where to co to; and in two hours I’l produce myself in any state you plase, sentimental or comical.’ I gave hm mnute direction for fidig th residence of Mr. Barkis, carrir to Blundersto and elre; and, on this understandig, went out alone There was a sharp bracg air; the ground was dry; th sea was crisp and car; th sun was diffusng abundan of lght, if nt muc warmth; and everything was fres and lively. I was so fre and lively myself, in th plasure of beig there, that I could have stopped the peopl in the streets and shaken hands with th The streets looked smal, of cours. The streets that w have y s as chdre alays do, I beve, wh we go back to them But I had forgotten nthing i them, and found nthing changed, until I came to Mr. Omer’s shop. OMER AND JORAM was now written up, whre OMER usd to be; but th inscription, DRAPER, TAILOR, HABERDASHER, FUNERAL FURNISHER, &c., reaied as it was. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 417 My footsteps sed to tend so naturally to the shop door, after I had read the words from over the way, that I wt acro th road and looked i. There was a pretty woan at the back of th hop, dang a little chd in her arm, while another lttle fellow clung to hr apron. I had no difficulty in regnizing eithr Minnie or Mine’s chdre The glas door of the parlour was nt open; but in th workshop across th yard I could faintly hear th old tune playing, as if it had never left off. ‘Is Mr. Omer at hoe?’ said I, enterig. ‘I should lke to see hm, for a moment, if he is.’ ‘Oh yes, sr, he i at home,’ said Min; ‘the weather do’t suit hi asthma out of doors. Joe, call your grandfather!’ The lttle fellow, who was holdig her apron, gave suc a lusty shout, that the sound of it made him basful, and he buried h fac in her skirts, to her great admration. I heard a heavy puffing and bling coming toards us, and soo Mr. Omer, shorterwinded than of yore, but nt muc older-lookig, stood before me ‘Servant, sir,’ said Mr. Omer. ‘What can I do for you, sir?’ ‘You can shake hands wth me, Mr. Omr, if you plase,’ said I, putting out my own. ‘You were very good-natured to me onc, wen I am afraid I didn’t sho that I thught so.’ ‘Was I though?’ returned the old man ‘I’m glad to hear it, but I don’t remember wh. Are you sure it was me?’ ‘Quite.’ ‘I think my mery has got as short as my breath,’ said Mr. Omer, lookig at me and shakig his head; ‘for I don’t remeber you.’ ‘Don’t you remember your comg to the coac to meet me, and my having breakfast here, and our ridig out to Blunderstone Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 418 together: you, and I, and Mrs. Joram, and Mr. Joram too—who was’t her husband then?’ ‘Why, Lord bl my soul!’ excaid Mr. Omer, after beg thro by his surprise into a fit of coughng, ‘you don’t say so! Minnie, my dear, you ret? Dear me, yes; th party was a lady, I thk?’ ‘My mother,’ I rejoined. ‘To—be—sure,’ said Mr. Omer, toucg my waistcoat with hi forefinger, ‘and thre was a littl child to! Thre was tw parties. The lttle party was laid alg with the other party. Over at Blunderston it was, of course Dear me! Ad how have you been since?’ Very well, I thanked hi, as I hoped he had been too. ‘Oh! nthg to grumble at, you kn,’ said Mr. Omer. ‘I find my breath gets short, but it sedom gets loger as a man gets older. I take it as it comes, and make th most of it. That’s th best way, ain’t it?’ Mr. Omer coughd again, in conseque of laughng, and was asted out of hi fit by his daughter, who now stood close bede us, dancing her smallest child on th counter. ‘Dear me!’ said Mr. Omer. ‘Yes, to be sure. Tw parties! Why, in that very ride, if you’ll believe me, th day was named for my Miie to marry Joram. “Do name it, sir,” says Joram. “Yes, do, fathr,” says Minnie. And now he’s come into th bus And look here! The youngest!’ Min laughed, and stroked her banded hair upo her templ, as her father put one of his fat fingers ito the hand of the child she was dancing on th counter. ‘Tw parties, of course!’ said Mr. Omer, noddig his head Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 419 retrospectivey. ‘Ex-actly so! And Joram’s at work, at this minute, on a grey one with siver nai, not this measuremt’—the masuremt of the dang chd upon the counter—‘by a good two in—Wi you take sthing?’ I thanked hi, but declined. ‘Let me see,’ said Mr. Omer. ‘Barkis’s the carrier’s wife— Peggotty’s th boatman’s sister—she had something to do with your family? She was in service thre, sure?’ My anrig i the affirmative gave him great satisfactio ‘I believe my breath wi get long next, my memory’s getting so much so,’ said Mr. Omer. ‘Wel, sir, we’ve got a young reati of hers here, under artic to us, that has as elgant a taste in the dres-makig bus—I asure you I do’t beeve there’s a Duchess in England can touc her.’ ‘Not little Em’ly?’ said I, invountarily. ‘Em’ly’s her name,’ said Mr. Omer, ‘and she’s little to But if you’l beeve m, se has suc a fac of her own that half the wmen in this to are mad against her.’ ‘Nonnse, fathr!’ cried Miie. ‘My dear,’ said Mr. Omer, ‘I don’t say it’s the case with you,’ winkig at m, ‘but I say that half the wome i Yarmouth—ah! and in five mile round—are mad agait that girl.’ ‘Then she should have kept to her own stati i life, father,’ said Minni, ‘and nt have given them any hold to talk about her, and then they couldn’t have don it.’ ‘Culdn’t have done it, my dear!’ retorted Mr. Omer. ‘Culdn’t have do it! Is that your knowldge of life? What is there that any wman couldn’t do, that she shouldn’t do—especally on th ubject of another woman’s good looks?’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 420 I realy thought it was al over with Mr. Omr, after he had uttered this libeus plasantry. He coughed to that extent, and his breath eluded all his attempts to rever it with that obstinacy, that I fully expected to see his head go dow bend th counter, and his lttle black brehes, with the rusty lttle bunhes of ribbons at th knees, come quivering up in a last iffectual truggle At lgth, however, he got better, though he sti panted hard, and was s exhausted that he was obliged to sit on the stool of the shop-desk. ‘You se,’ he said, wiping his head, and breathing with difficulty, ‘she has’t taken much to any companions here; she asn’t taken kindly to any particular acquaintances and friends, not to mention swetharts In conquence, an ill-natured story got about, that Em’ly wanted to be a lady. Now my opi i, that it came into circulation principally on account of hr sometimes aying, at the school, that if se was a lady se would lke to do sand-s for her un—do’t you s?—and buy hi suc-and-suc fin things.’ ‘I asure you, Mr. Omr, sh has said so to m,’ I returned eagerly, ‘wh we were both children.’ Mr. Omer nodded his head and rubbed his chi. ‘Just so. Th out of a very little, she could dres herself, you see, better than that made things unplasant. t others could out of a deal, and Moreover, s was rather what might be cald wayward—I’l go so far as to say what I should cal wayward myself,’ said Mr. Omer; ‘—didn’t know her own mid quite—a lttle spoild—and culdn’t, at first, exactly bind hersf dow No more than that was ever said against her, Minni?’ ‘No, father,’ said Mrs. Joram. ‘That’s the worst, I beeve.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 421 ‘So when she got a stuati,’ said Mr. Omer, ‘to keep a fractius old lady company, thy didn’t very we agre, and sh didn’t stop. At last she came here, appreticed for thre years. Nearly tw of ’em are over, and she has bee as god a girl as ever was. Worth any six! Minnie, is she worth any six, now?’ ‘Yes, father,’ replied Miie. ‘Never say I detracted from her!’ ‘Very god,’ said Mr. Omer. ‘That’s right. And so, young gentleman,’ he added, after a fe moments’ furthr rubbing of h chin, ‘that you may not consider me long-winded as we as shortbreathed, I beeve that’s al about it.’ As thy had spoken in a subdued to, while speakig of Em’ly, I had no doubt that she was near. On my asking now, if that were not so, Mr. Omr nodded yes, and nodded toards th door of th parlur. My hurrid inquiry if I might peep in, was answered with a fre permssion; and, looking through th glass, I saw her sitting at her work. I saw her, a mot beautiful little creature, with the coudl blue eyes, that had looked into my chdi heart, turned laughingly upon another chd of Min’s who was playig near her; with enough of wilfuln in her bright fac to justify what I had heard; with much of th old capricious coyn lurkig in it; but with nothing in her pretty looks, I am sure, but what was meant for godness and for happiness, and what was o a god and happy course Th tune across th yard that seed as if it never had left off— alas! it was the tune that never does leave off—was beatig, sftly, al the whe. ‘Wouldn’t you lke to step in,’ said Mr. Omer, ‘and speak to her? Walk in and speak to her, sir! Make yourself at ho!’ I was to bashful to do so th—I was afraid of confusg her, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 422 and I was no less afraid of confusg myself.—but I informd myself of th hour at which she left of an eveing, in order that our visit might be timed accordingly; and taking leave of Mr. Omer, and his pretty daughter, and hr lttl chidre, went away to my dear old Peggotty’s Here sh was, in the tild kitchen, cookig dir! The mt I knocked at th door she oped it, and asked me wat I pleased to want. I looked at her with a s, but sh gave me no s i return. I had nver ceasd to write to her, but it must have be ven years since we had met. ‘Is Mr. Barkis at ho, ma’am?’ I said, feignng to speak roughly to her. ‘He’s at hoe, sir,’ returned Peggotty, ‘but he’s bad abed with th rhumatics.’ ‘Don’t he go over to Blundersto n?’ I asked. ‘Whe he’s we he do,’ she answered. ‘Do you ever go there, Mrs Barki?’ She looked at me more attentivey, and I noticed a quick mvemet of her hands towards eac other. ‘Beaus I want to ask a question about a house there, that they call th—wat is it?—th Rookery,’ said I. She took a step backward, and put out her hands i an undeded frightened way, as if to keep me off. ‘Peggotty!’ I crid to her. Sh crid, ‘My darling boy!’ and we both burst into tears, and wre locked in on anthr’s arms. What extravagances she comitted; what laughng and crying over me; wat pride she shod, what joy, what sorro that she pride and joy I might have bee, could never hod me in a Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 423 fond ebrace; I have nt the heart to tel I was troubld with n misgivig that it was young in me to respond to her emtions. I had never laughd and cried in all my life, I dare say—nt eve to r—more frey than I did that morng. ‘Barkis wi be so glad,’ said Peggotty, wiping her eye wth hr apron, ‘that it’ll do hi more god than pints of liniment. May I go and te him you are here? Will you come up and se hm, my dear?’ Of curse I would. But Peggotty could not get out of the room as easy as s meant to, for as often as s got to the door and looked round at m, she cam back agai to have another laugh and another cry upon my shoulder. At last, to make the matter easier, I went upstairs with her; and having waited outsde for a mute, wile s said a word of preparati to Mr. Barkis, preted myself before that invalid. He received me with absolute enthusas. He was to rheumatic to be sake hands with, but he begged me to shake the tassel o th top of his nightcap, which I did most cordialy. Whe I sat dow by th side of th bed, he said that it did hm a wrld of good to fee as if he was drivig m on the Blunderston road agai As he lay in bed, fac upward, and s cvered, wth that excpti, that he sed to be nthing but a fac—lke a cventional cerubi—he lked the queerest object I ever behld. ‘What name was it, as I wrote up in th cart, sir?’ said Mr. Barkis, with a sl rhumatic smil ‘Ah! Mr. Barki, we had so grave talks about that matter, hadn’t we?’ ‘I was willin’ a long time, sir?’ said Mr. Barki Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 424 ‘A log time,’ said I. ‘And I don’t regret it,’ said Mr. Barkis. ‘Do you remember wat you told me onc, about her makig al the appl parstie and dog al the cookig?’ ‘Yes, very we,’ I returned. ‘It was as true,’ said Mr. Barkis, ‘as turnips is. It was as true,’ said Mr. Barki, nodding his nightcap, wich was hs only mean f emphasis, ‘as taxes is. And nothing’s truer than th.’ Mr. Barkis turnd his eye upo me, as if for my assent to this result of his refltis in bed; and I gave it. ‘Nothing’s truer than them,’ repeated Mr. Barki; ‘a man as poor as I am, fids that out in his mid w h’s laid up. I’m a very poor man, sir!’ ‘I am sorry to hear it, Mr. Barkis.’ ‘A very poor man, indeed I am,’ said Mr. Barkis. Here hi right hand cam slowly and feebly from under the bedcthes, and with a purpose uncrtai grasp took hold of a stick which was looy tid to th side of th bed. After some poking about wth this istrument, in th course of which his face assumed a varity of distracted expresion, Mr. Barkis poked it against a box, an end of which had bee visible to me all th time. Th his face became compod. ‘Old clths,’ said Mr. Barki ‘Oh!’ said I. ‘I wish it was Moy, sir,’ said Mr. Barkis. ‘I wish it was, indeed,’ said I. ‘But it ain’t,’ said Mr. Barkis, opeing both his eye as wide as h possibly could. I expressed myself quite sure of that, and Mr. Barkis, turning Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 425 his eye more gently to his wife, said: ‘She’s the usefullt and bet of wo, C. P. Barki A th praise that anyo can give to C. P. Barkis, she deserve, and more! My dear, you’ll get a dinner today, for company; something good to eat and drik, wil you?’ I should have proteted against this uncesary demonstration my honour, but that I saw Peggotty, on the oppote side of the bed, extremey anxious I should nt. So I held my peace. ‘I have got a trifle of money somewre about me, my dear,’ said Mr. Barki, ‘but I’m a lttle tired. If you and Mr. David wil leave me for a short nap, I’ll try and find it wh I wake.’ We lft the room, i cplianc with this request. Wh we got outside the door, Peggotty informed me that Mr. Barki, beg nw ‘a lttle nearer’ than he used to be, always resrted to this same device before producg a single coin fro his store; and that he endured unheard-of agonie in crawg out of bed ale, and takig it from that unucky box. In effect, w preently heard hm uttering suppressed groans of th most dismal nature, as this magpie proding racked him in every joint; but wile Peggotty’s eye wre full of compassion for him, she said hi gerous impulse wuld do hm god, and it was better not to chek it. So he groand on, until he had got ito bed again, suffering, I have n doubt, a martyrdom; and th cald us in, preteding to have just wke up fro a refreng slp, and to produc a guinea fro under his pillow His satisfacti in which happy imposition on us, and in having prerved th impenetrable secret of th box, appeared to be a sufficient compenati to him for all hi tortures I prepared Peggotty for Steerforth’s arrival and it was not lg Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 426 before he cam. I am persuaded she knew no differee between hi having be a personal benefactor of hers, and a kind friend to me, and that she would have received him with th utmost gratitude and devoti in any case. But his easy, spirited god humour; his genial manner, his handsome looks, his natural gift of adapting himself to whsoever he pleased, and making direct, when he cared to do it, to the mai pot of interest in anybody’s heart; bound her to him wholly in five miutes. Hi manr to m, alone, would have won her. But, through al these causes bid, I serely beeve she had a kid of adorati for him before he left the house that night. He stayed there with me to dir—if I were to say willgly, I should nt half expre how readiy and gaiy. He went into Mr. Barkis’s ro like light and air, brighteing and refreng it as if h wre halthy wathr. Thre was no noise, no effort, no consciusness, in anythng h did; but i everythng an indescribable lightns, a seing impossibiity of doing anythng e, or doig anythng better, which was so graceful, so natural, and agreeable, that it overc me, even n, in th remembran We made mrry in the littl parlour, were the Book of Martyrs, unthumbed since my time, was laid out upo th desk as f old, and whre I now turnd over its terrific picture, rememberig th old senations thy had awakened, but not feelig them. When Peggotty spoke of what she cald my room, and of its beg ready for me at night, and of her hopig I would occupy it, before I could so much as look at Sterforth, hsitating, h was possessed of th wh case ‘Of course,’ h said. ‘You’l sleep hre, wile w stay, and I shal Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 427 seep at the hotel.’ ‘But to bring you so far,’ I returned, ‘and to separate, seems bad companionship, Sterforth’ ‘Why, i the nam of Heaven, where do you naturaly beg?’ h said. ‘What is “ss”, compared to that?’ It was settld at onc He maitaid all his deghtful qualiti to the last, until we started forth, at eight o’cock, for Mr. Peggotty’s boat. Inded, they were more and more brightly exhibited as the hours went on; for I thought eve then, and I have no doubt now, that the consciusness of succes in his determation to please, inspired hm with a ne delacy of percpti, and made it, subtle as it was, more easy to him If anyone had told m, then, that al this as a briant gam, played for the excitement of the mot, for th eployment of hgh spirits, in th thughtls love of superirity, in a mere wasteful careles course of winning what was worthss to him, and next minute thro away—I say, if anyo had tod me such a lie that night, I woder in wat manner of receiving it my indignation would have found a vent! Probably only i an increase, had that be possible, of th romanti feings of fidelity and friendship with which I walked beside hm, over the dark wintry sands towards the old boat; the wind sghing around us eve more mournfully, than it had sighd and moand upon the night when I first darked Mr. Peggotty’s door. ‘This is a wid kid of place, Sterforth, is it not?’ ‘Dismal enugh in th dark,’ he said: ‘and th sea roars as if it wre hungry for us. Is that the boat, where I see a lght yoder?’ ‘That’s the boat,’ said I. ‘And it’s the same I saw this morng,’ he returnd. ‘I came Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 428 straight to it, by instict, I suppose.’ We said no more as we approached th light, but made softly for the door. I laid my hand upo the latch; and whispering Steerforth to keep close to me, wet in A murmur of voices had bee audible on th outside, and, at th moment of our entrance, a clapping of hands: which latter noise, I was surprised to see, proded fro th geraly disconsolate Mrs. Gummidge. But Mrs. Gummidge was not th only pers there who was unusually excted. Mr. Peggotty, hi fac lghted up with unc satisfaction, and laughing with all his mght, held hi rough arm wide ope, as if for little Em’ly to run ito them; Ham, with a mixed expresion in his face of admrati, exultation, and a lumberig sort of basfuln that sat upon h very wll, hld littl Em’ly by th hand, as if he were preting her to Mr. Peggotty; little Em’ly hersef, blushig and shy, but deghted with Mr. Peggotty’s deght, as her joyous eye xpressed, was stopped by our entrance (for she saw us first) in the very act of spriging from Ham to ntl i Mr. Peggotty’s brace In the first glips we had of them al, and at the mt of our pasg from the dark cod night ito the warm lght room, this was the way in whic they were all eployed: Mrs. Gummidge in th background, capping hr hands like a madwoan. Th littl picture was so instantaneusly dissved by our going i, that one mght have doubted whether it had ever be I was in the midst of the astond famy, fac to fac with Mr. Peggotty, and holdig out my hand to him, when Ham shouted: ‘Mas’r Davy! It’s Mas’r Davy!’ In a moment we were all shaking hands wth o anthr, and Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 429 askig one another how we did, and telg one another how glad we were to mt, and al talkig at on Mr. Peggotty was so proud and overjoyed to see us, that he did not know what to say or do, but kept over and over again shakig hands wth me, and th with Sterforth, and then with me, and then rufflig his saggy hair al over hi head, and laughing with suc glee and triumph, that it was a treat to se him ‘Why, that you two gent’l—gent’l growed—should c to this here roof tonight, of al nghts in my life,’ said Mr. Peggotty, ‘i suc a thing as never happed afore, I do rightly believe! Em’ly, my darlg, come here! Come here, my littl witc! Thre’s Mas’r Davy’s friend, my dear! Thre’s th gent’lman as you’ve heerd on, Em’ly. He c to see you, alg with Mas’r Davy, on the brightest night of your unce’s life as ever was or wi be, Gorm the t’other one, and horroar for it!’ After delivering this spe all in a breath, and wth xtraordinary anation and pleasure, Mr. Peggotty put on of h large hands rapturously on each side of his ni’s face, and kissing it a dozen times, laid it with a gentle pride and love upo is broad chet, and patted it as if hi hand had be a lady’s. Then he lt her go; and as sh ran into the little chamber where I used to sleep, looked round upo us, quite hot and out of breath wth his un satisfacti ‘If you tw gent’lmen—gent’lmen grod now, and such gent’l—’ said Mr. Peggotty. ‘So th’ are, so th’ are!’ cried Ham. ‘Wel said! So th’ are. Mas’r Davy bor’—gent’len growed—so th’ are!’ ‘If you two gent’l, gent’l growed,’ said Mr. Peggotty, ‘don’t ex-cuse m for beg i a state of mid, when you Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 430 understand matters, I’ll arks your pardo Em’ly, my dear!—She knows I’m a going to tel,’ here his deght broke out agai, ‘and has made off. Would you be so good as look arter her, Mawther, for a minute?’ Mrs. Gummidge nodded and disappeared. ‘If this ai’t,’ said Mr. Peggotty, sitting down among us by the fire, ‘the brightest night o’ my life, I’m a shellfi—bied too—and more I can’t say. This here littl Em’ly, sir,’ in a low voice to Steerforth, ‘—her as you see a blushig here just now—’ Sterforth only nodded; but with such a plasd expresion of iterest, and of particpatio in Mr. Peggotty’s feegs, that the latter answered him as if he had spoken. ‘To be sure,’ said Mr. Peggotty. ‘That’s her, and so she is. Thankee, sir.’ Ham nodded to me several times, as if he would have said so too. ‘This hre lttle Em’ly of ours,’ said Mr. Peggotty, ‘has be, in ur house, what I suppose (I’m a ignorant man, but that’s my beef) n one but a lttle bright-eyed creetur can be in a house She ain’t my chid; I never had on; but I couldn’t love her more You understand! I culdn’t do it!’ ‘I quite understand,’ said Steerforth ‘I kn you do, sir,’ returned Mr. Peggotty, ‘and thankee agai Mas’r Davy, he can remmber what sh was; you may judge for your own self what she is; but neithr of you can’t fuly kn wat she has be, is, and will be, to my loving art. I am rough, sir,’ said Mr. Peggotty, ‘I am as rough as a Sea Porkypi; but no o, unles, mayhap, it is a wman, can kn, I think, what our littl Em’ly i to me. And betwixt oursves,’ sinking hs voice lowr yet, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 431 ‘that wman’s name ain’t Missis Gumdge neithr, thugh she has a world of merits.’ Mr. Peggotty ruffled his hair again, with both hands, as a further preparati for what he was going to say, and went on, with a hand upo eac of his knees: ‘There was a certai person as had know’d our Em’ly, from the ti when her father was drownded; as had seen her ctant; when a babby, when a young gal, when a woman. Not muc of a person to look at, he warn’t,’ said Mr. Peggotty, ‘sething o’ my own buid—rough—a good deal o’ the sou’-wester in hi—wery salt—but, on the whole, a honest sort of a cap, with his art i the right plac’ I thought I had never se Ham grin to anything like the extent to which he sat grinning at us now ‘What do this here bled tarpaul go and do,’ said Mr. Peggotty, with his fac one high noon of ejoymet, ‘but he l that there art of his to our little Em’ly. He folrs her about, he makes hf a sort o’ servant to her, he loses in a great measure is relish for his wittl, and in th long-run he makes it clear to me wt’s amiss. Now I could wish myself, you see, that our littl Em’ly was i a fair way of being marrid. I could wish to see her, at all ewts, under article to a host man as had a right to defend her. I do’t know how log I may live, or how soon I may die; but I kn that if I was capsized, any night, in a gale of wd in Yarmuth Roads here, and was to see th to-lights shig for th last time over th rollers as I couldn’t make no head agait, I could go do quieter for thinkig “There’s a man ashore there, iron-true to my little Em’ly, God bl her, and no rog can touc my Em’ly whe so be as that man lves.”’ Mr. Peggotty, in sipl earntne, waved his right arm, as if Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 432 he were waving it at the town-lights for the last tim, and then, exchangig a nd with Ham, whose eye he caught, proceeded as before ‘We! I counls him to speak to Em’ly. He’s big enough, but he’s basfullr than a little un, and he do’t like So I speak. “What! Him!” says Em’ly. “Him that I’ve know’d so intimate s many years, and like so much. Oh, Uncle! I never can have him. He’s suc a good fellow!” I gives her a ki, and I says no mre to her than, “My dear, you’re right to speak out, you’re to choose for yourself, you’re as fre as a littl bird.” Th I aways to hm, and I says, “I wish it could have be so, but it can’t. But you can both be as you was, and wot I say to you is, Be as you was with her, lke a man” He says to me, a-shaking of my hand, “I w!” h says d he was—honurabl and manful—for two year going on, and we was just the sam at home here as afore.’ Mr. Peggotty’s face, which had varid in its expresion with th various stage of his narrative, now resumd all its former triumphant delight, as he laid a hand upo my kne and a hand upon Sterforth’s (previously wetting them both, for the greater emphas of the action), and divided the followig speech between us: ‘A of a sudde, on eveg—as it mght be tonight—c ttle Em’ly from her work, and him with her! There ai’t so muc in that, you’ll say. No, beause he take care on her, like a brother, arter dark, and indeed afore dark, and at all times. But this tarpaul chap, he take hold of her hand, and he cri out to me, joyful, “Lok here! This is to be my littl wfe!” Ad she says, half bold and half shy, and half a laughng and half a crying, “Ye, Uncl! If you please.”—If I plase!’ cried Mr. Peggotty, rolling hi Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 433 had in an ecstasy at th idea; ‘Lord, as if I should do anythnk e!—“If you plas, I am steadir now, and I have thought better of it, and I’l be as good a little wife as I can to him, for he’s a dear, god fellow!” Th Misis Gumidge, she claps her hands like a play, and you come in. Theer! the murder’s out!’ said Mr. Peggotty—‘You c i! It took place this here pret hour; and here’s the man that’ll marry her, the miute sh’s out of her tim’ Ham staggered, as wel he mght, under the blow Mr. Peggotty dealt hm i hi unbounded joy, as a mark of confidece and friedsp; but feeg cald upo to say sothing to us, he said, with muc falterig and great difficulty: ‘She warn’t n higher than you was, Mas’r Davy—when you first co—when I thought what sh’d grow up to be I s her gron up—get’lmen—like a flr. I’d lay dow my life for her— Mas’r Davy—Oh! most contet and cherful! She’s more to me— gent’lmen—than—s’s all to me that ever I can want, and more than ever I—than ever I could say. I—I love her true. There ai’t a gent’lan i al the land—nor yet saig upo all the sea—that can love his lady more than I love her, thugh thre’s many a common man—wuld say better—wat he meant.’ I thught it affecting to see such a sturdy fellow as Ham was w, tremblg i the strength of what he felt for the pretty little reature who had won hi heart. I thought the sipl cofide reposed i us by Mr. Peggotty and by himself, was, in itself, affecting. I was affected by th story altogethr. Ho far my emotio were ifluend by the recoections of my chdhood, I do’t know. Whether I had c there wth any ligerig fany that I was sti to love lttle Em’ly, I do’t know. I know that I was filled wth pleasure by all this; but, at first, with an indescribably Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 434 sensitive pleasure, that a very littl would have changed to pain Therefore, if it had depeded upo me to touch the prevaig chord amg them with any ski, I should have made a poor hand of it. But it depended upo Sterforth; and he did it with such addres, that in a fe minutes we were all as easy and as happy as it was possible to be ‘Mr. Peggotty,’ he said, ‘you are a thoroughly good fellw, and derve to be as happy as you are tonight. My hand upo it! Ham, I give you joy, my boy. My hand upon that, too! Daiy, stir the fire, and make it a brisk on! and Mr. Peggotty, unless you can induce your gentl ni to co back (for whom I vacate this sat i the cornr), I shall go. Any gap at your fireside on such a night—such a gap last of al—I wouldn’t make, for the wealth of the Indi!’ So Mr. Peggotty went into my old room to fetch little Em’ly. At first lttle Em’ly didn’t like to co, and then Ham went. Pretly they brought her to the firesde, very muc cfused, and very shy,—but she soo became more assured w s found h gently and respectfully Sterforth spoke to her; ho skilfuly he avoided anything that would embarras her; how he talked to Mr. Peggotty of boats, and ships, and tides, and fish; h h referred to me about the tim when he had s Mr. Peggotty at Sal House; how deghted he was with the boat and all begig to it; how lightly and easy he carried on, until he brought us, by degre, into a charmed circle, and we were al talkig away without any resrve. Em’ly, inded, said little al the evenig; but se looked, and listed, and her face got anated, and she was charming. Steerforth told a story of a dial spwreck (whic arose out of hi talk with Mr. Peggotty), as if he saw it all before hi—and little Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 435 Em’ly’s eyes were fastened on hi al the ti, as if se saw it too. He told us a merry adventure of his own, as a relief to that, with as muc gaity as if the narrative were as fresh to him as it was to us—and lttle Em’ly laughed until the boat rang with the musal sounds, and we all laughd (Sterforth to), in irresistible sympathy with what was so plasant and light-hearted. He got Mr. Peggotty to sig, or rather to roar, ‘When the stormy winds do blow, do blow, do blow’; and he sang a saior’s sog himelf, s pathtically and beautifully, that I could have almost fancied that the real wind crepig sorrowfully round the house, and murmurig l through our unbroken se, was there to liten. As to Mrs. Gummidge, h rousd that victi of despondecy with a suc nver attaid by anyone el (so Mr. Peggotty iformed m), se the dease of the old one. He left her so littl leisure for being miserabl, that she said next day she thught she must have bee bewtcd. But h set up no monopoly of th geral attention, or th versation. Wh little Em’ly grew more courageus, and talked (but still bashfuly) across th fire to me, of our od wanderigs upo th beach, to pick up shels and pebbles; and w I asked hr if she rellected ho I usd to be devoted to her; and wh we both laughed and redded, castig thes looks back on the pleasant old times, so unreal to look at now; h was slent and attentive, and observed us thoughtfully. Sh sat, at this tim, and al the evenig, on the old loker in her old lttle crner by th fire—Ham bede her, where I used to sit. I could nt satisfy mysf whether it was in her own little tormenting way, or i a maidenly rerve before us, that she kept quite ce to the wal, and away fro him; but I observed that she did so, all th eveg. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 436 A I rember, it was alt midnght when we took our leave. We had had some biscuit and dried fish for supper, and Sterforth had produced from his poket a full flask of Hollands, whic we men (I may say we men, now, withut a blus) had eptied. We parted merrily; and as thy all stod croded round th door to ght us as far as they could upo our road, I saw the st blue eyes of little Em’ly pepig after us, from bed Ham, and heard hr soft voice calg to us to be careful ho we wet. ‘A mt egaging little Beauty!’ said Sterforth, takig my arm ‘Wel! It’s a quaint place, and thy are quaint company, and it’s quite a new seati to mix with them’ ‘How fortunate we are, to,’ I returned, ‘to have arrived to tnss thr happiss in that intended marriage! I never saw people so happy. Ho delightful to see it, and to be made th arers in their honest joy, as we have be!’ ‘That’s rather a chuckl-headed felw for the girl; is’t he?’ said Steerforth. He had be s hearty with him, and with them all, that I felt a shok in this unxpected and cold reply. But turning quickly upo , and seeing a laugh in his eyes, I anered, muc reeved: ‘Ah, Steerforth! It’s well for you to joke about the poor! You may skirmish wth Miss Dartle, or try to hide your sympath in jest from me, but I know better. When I see how perfectly you understand th, ho exquisitey you can enter into happine like th plain fisherman’s, or humour a love lke my od nurs’s, I know that thre is not a joy or sorro, not an emtion, of such people, that can be indifferent to you. And I admire and love you for it, Steerforth, twenty ti the more!’ He stopped, and, lookig in my face, said, ‘Daisy, I beve you Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 437 are in earnt, and are god. I wish we all were!’ Next moment h was gaiy sigig Mr. Peggotty’s sog, as we walked at a round pace back to Yarmuth Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 438 Chapter 22 SOME OLD SCENES, AND SOME NEW PEOPLE S teerforth and I stayed for more than a fortnight i that part of the country. We were very muc togethr, I nd not say; but occasonaly we were asunder for so hours at a tim He was a good saior, and I was but an idifferent one; and when he went out boatig with Mr. Peggotty, whic was a favourite amusemet of his, I geraly reaied ashore. My occupati of Peggotty’s spare-ro put a constraint upo me, from whic he was free: for, knowing how asduously sh attended o Mr. Barki al day, I did nt like to remai out late at nght; whereas Sterforth, lyig at the In, had nothing to cnsult but hi own humour. Thus it cam about, that I heard of his akig lttle treats for the fisrm at Mr. Peggotty’s house of call, ‘Th Willg Mind’, after I was in bed, and of hi beg aflat, wrapped in fisrmn’s clothes, whole moght nights, and cg back when the mrnig tide was at flood. By this tim, hver, I knew that his restles nature and bold spirits delighted to find a vent i rough toil and hard weathr, as in any othr mans of exctemt that preted itsf fresy to him; so n f his prodigs surprised me. ther cause of our beg sotim apart, was, that I had naturally an interest in going over to Blunderstone, and revisting the old famliar scene of my chdhood; while Steerforth, after beg there onc, had naturally no great iterest i going there again. Hence, on thre or four days that I can at once real, w Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 439 wnt our several ways after an early breakfast, and met again at a late dinner. I had no idea how he employed hi tim i the interval, beyond a geral knowledge that he was very popular i the plac, and had twenty mean of actively diverting hif where another man mght not have found one. For my own part, my occupati in my soltary pilgriage was to recall every yard of th old road as I wnt along it, and to haunt the old spots, of whic I never tired. I haunted them, as my memory had often done, and lingered amg th as my younger thoughts had ligered when I was far away. The grave beath the tree, where both my parents lay—on whic I had looked out, when it was my fathr’s only, with such curius feings of compassi, and by which I had stod, so desolate, wh it was oped to receive my pretty mothr and her baby—th grave wich Peggotty’s own faithful care had ever since kept neat, and made a garde of, I walked nar, by the hour. It lay a lttle off the churchyard path, in a quiet cornr, not so far removed but I could read th names upo th sto as I walked to and fro, startld by th sound of th church-bel wh it struck th hour, for it was like a departed vo to me My reflections at the ti were alays asated with the figure I was to make in life, and the ditiguished things I was to do My echoing footsteps went to n other tune, but were as constant to that as if I had c home to build my castls in the air at a lvig mother’s side There were great changes in my old home The ragged nts, s g derted by the rooks, were go; and the trees wre lpped and topped out of their rembered shape The garde had run wild, and half the windows of the house were shut up. It was ccupied, but only by a poor lunati gentleman, and th people Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 440 who took care of him He was always sitting at my little window, lookig out ito the curchyard; and I wondered whether his ramblg thoughts ever went upon any of the fanci that used to occupy m, o the roy morngs when I peeped out of that sam lttle window i my night-clothes, and saw the shp quietly feedig in the light of the risg sun Our old nghbours, Mr. and Mrs. Grayper, were gone to South Aerica, and the rai had made its way through the roof of their epty huse, and stained th outer walls. Mr. Chllip was marrid again to a tall, raw-boned, high-nd wife; and thy had a weaze ttle baby, with a heavy head that it culdn’t hold up, and two wak starig eye, with which it seed to be alays wdering wy it had ever been born It was with a singular jumble of sadns and pleasure that I used to liger about my native plac, until the reddeg winter sun admd me that it was tim to start on my returnig walk. But, w th place was left bend, and especialy wh Steerforth and I were happiy seated over our dier by a blazig fire, it was delicious to thk of having be thre So it was, though i a sftened degree, when I wet to my neat room at nght; and, turnig over the leave of the crocodi-book (whic as alays there, upon a little table), rebered with a grateful hart h blt I was i having such a friend as Sterforth, such a fried as Peggotty, and suc a substitute for what I had lot as my excellent and gerous aunt. My nearet way to Yarmouth, in cg back from thes lg walks, was by a ferry. It landed m on the flat between the to and th sea, wh I could make straight across, and so save ysf a considerabl circuit by the high road. Mr. Peggotty’s Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 441 house beg on that waste-place, and nt a hundred yards out of my track, I always looked in as I went by. Sterforth was pretty sure to be there expetig m, and we went on together through the frosty air and gatherig fog towards the twinklg lghts of the town. On dark eveg, when I was later than usual—for I had, that day, bee making my partig visit to Blundersto, as w wre w about to return home—I found him alone in Mr. Peggotty’s house, sitting thoughtfully before the fire. He was so itent upon his own refltis that he was quite unnscius of my approach. This, indeed, he might easly have be if he had be less absorbed, for fotsteps fell noiselesly on th sandy ground outsde; but even my entran faied to rouse him I was standig cose to hi, lookig at hi; and sti, with a heavy brow, he was lost in his meditatis. He gave such a start wh I put my hand upo his shoulder, that he made me start to ‘You come upo me,’ h said, almost angrily, ‘like a reproachful ghost!’ ‘I was obliged to announce myself, someh,’ I replied. ‘Have I calld you dow fro th stars?’ ‘No,’ he answered. ‘No’ ‘Up fro anywre, then?’ said I, takig my seat near him. ‘I was lookig at th picture in th fire,’ he returnd. ‘But you are spoiling th for me,’ said I, as he stirred it quickly with a piece of burng wod, striking out of it a train of red-ht sparks that went carering up th littl chimney, and roarig out into the air. ‘You would not have se them,’ he returned. ‘I detest this Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 442 mongrel time, neithr day nor night. Ho late you are! Where have you be?’ ‘I have be takig lave of my usual walk,’ said I. ‘And I have be sitting here,’ said Sterforth, glancing round the room, ‘thikig that al the peopl we found so glad on the nght of our cg down, mght—to judge from the pret wasted air of th plac—be dispersd, or dead, or come to I don’t know what harm. David, I wis to God I had had a judius father the last twenty years!’ ‘My dear Sterforth, what is th matter?’ ‘I wish with all my soul I had be better guided!’ h exclaimed. ‘I wish with all my soul I could guide myself better!’ Thre was a passionate dejection in his manner that quite amazed me. He was more unke himself than I could have supposed possible. ‘It would be better to be this poor Peggotty, or his lout of a nph,’ he said, getting up and leang modiy agait the chimney-piece, wth his face toards th fire, ‘than to be myself, twenty tim ricr and twenty tim wisr, and be the tormet to myself that I have be, in this Devil’s bark of a boat, wthin th ast half-hour!’ I was s cfounded by the alteratio in him, that at first I culd ony observe him in sie, as he stood lang hi head upon his hand, and lookig gloomiy do at the fire. At lgth I begged hi, with al the earnetne I felt, to tel m what had occurred to cross h so unusually, and to let me sympathze with , if I culd not hope to advis him Before I had well uded, he began to laugh—fretfully at first, but soon with returnig gaity. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 443 ‘Tut, it’s nothing, Daiy! nothing!’ he repld. ‘I told you at the in in Londo, I am heavy copany for mysf, sotim I have be a nghtmare to mysf, just now—must have had one, I think. At odd dul times, nursry tales come up into th memory, unregnzed for what they are. I beeve I have been cfoundig myself with th bad boy wh “didn’t care”, and beame fod for lons—a grander kid of going to the dogs, I suppo What old w cal the horrors, have been creepig over me from head to foot. I have been afraid of mysf.’ ‘You are afraid of nothg else, I thk,’ said I. ‘Perhaps nt, and yet may have enough to be afraid of too,’ he answered. ‘Well! So it go by! I am not about to be hipped again, David; but I te you, my god fell, once more, that it would have bee well for me (and for more than me) if I had had a steadfast and judious father!’ His fac was always full of expre, but I never saw it express such a dark kind of earntns as wh he said th rds, with his glance bent on th fire ‘So much for that!’ he said, making as if he tossed somethg lght into the air, with his hand. “‘Why, beg go, I am a man agai,” like Macbeth Ad now for dinnr! If I have not (Macbeth-like) broke up th feast with most admired disorder, Daisy.’ ‘But where are they al, I woder!’ said I. ‘God kns,’ said Steerforth ‘After strog to the ferry lking for you, I strolled in here and found th place deserted. That set me thking, and you found me thking.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 444 The advet of Mrs. Gumdge with a basket, explaid h th house had happened to be empty. She had hurried out to buy sthing that was neded, agait Mr. Peggotty’s return with the tide; and had left th door ope in th meanwh, lest Ham and lttle Em’ly, with whom it was an early night, should c home ile she was go. Sterforth, after very much improving Mrs Gummidge’s spirits by a cherful salutati and a jo embrace, tok my arm, and hurrid me away. He had improved his own spirits, no les than Mrs Gummidge’s, for thy were again at thr usual fl, and h was full of vivacus conversati as we went along. ‘And so,’ h said, gaily, ‘we abandon this bucaneer life tomorro, do we?’ ‘So w agreed,’ I returned. ‘Ad our plac by the coach are taken, you know’ ‘Ay! there’s n hep for it, I suppoe,’ said Steerforth ‘I have alt forgotten that there is anything to do in the world but to go out tossing on th sea here. I wish thre was not.’ ‘As long as th novelty should last,’ said I, laughng. ‘Like enough,’ he returned; ‘though there’s a sarcasti mang i that obsrvati for an amable piece of ine like my young friend. Wel! I dare say I am a capricious fellow, David. I know I am; but while th iro is hot, I can strike it vigorously to I could pas a reasonably god examation already, as a pilot in thes waters, I think.’ ‘Mr. Peggotty says you are a woder,’ I returned. ‘A nautial phenomon, eh?’ laughed Steerforth. ‘Indeed he do, and you know how truly; I know how ardet you are in any pursuit you follow, and ho easily you can master Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 445 it. And that amaze me most in you, Sterforth—that you should be contented with such fitful uses of your powrs.’ ‘Ctented?’ h answered, merrily. ‘I am never conteted, except wth your fres, my gentle Daisy. As to fitfulness, I have never learnt th art of binding myself to any of th ws o the Ixio of the days are turng round and round. I missed it someh in a bad appreticeship, and now don’t care about it.—You know I have bought a boat down here?’ ‘What an extraordiary fellow you are, Steerforth!’ I exclaid, stopping—for this was th first I had heard of it. ‘When you may never care to come near th plac again!’ ‘I do’t know that,’ he returned. ‘I have take a fancy to the plac At all evets,’ walkig me briskly on, ‘I have bought a boat that was for sale—a clipper, Mr. Peggotty says; and so she is—and Mr. Peggotty will be master of her in my absence.’ ‘No I understand you, Steerforth!’ said I, exultigly. ‘You preted to have bought it for yoursf, but you have realy do s to cofer a befit on him I mght have known as muc at first, knowing you. My dear kind Sterforth, ho can I te you what I think of your gerosity?’ ‘Tus!’ he answered, turng red. ‘Th less said, the better.’ ‘Didn’t I know?’ crid I, ‘didn’t I say that there was not a joy, or sorro, or any emtion of such host harts that was indifferent to you?’ ‘Aye, aye,’ h answered, ‘you tod m al that. There let it rest. We have said enough!’ Afraid of offendig him by pursuig the subject when he made so light of it, I oly pursued it in my thughts as we went on at eve a quicker pace than before Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 446 ‘She must be ney rigged,’ said Steerforth, ‘and I shal lave Littimr bend to se it do, that I may know sh is quite mplete. Did I te you Littimer had come dow?’ ‘ No.’ ‘Oh yes! cam do this morng, with a letter from my mothr.’ A our looks mt, I obsrved that he was pal even to his lips, though he looked very steadiy at m I feared that s differen betwee him and his mother might have ld to hi beg i the frame of mind in which I had found him at th solitary fireside. I hited so ‘Oh no!’ he said, shakig his head, and giving a sght laugh. ‘Nothg of the sort! Yes. He is come dow, that man of min.’ ‘Th same as ever?’ said I. ‘The sam as ever,’ said Sterforth. ‘Ditant and quiet as the North Pole. He shal see to the boat beg fresh namd. She’s th “Stormy Petrel” no What do Mr. Peggotty care for Stormy Petrel! I’ll have her christed agai’ ‘By what name?’ I asked. ‘Th “Little Em’ly”.’ A he had cotiued to look steadiy at me, I took it as a reminder that he objected to being extod for his consideration. I could not help shoing in my face ho much it plased me, but I said littl, and he resumed his usual smil, and seed relieved. ‘But see here,’ he said, lookig before us, ‘where the origial ttle Em’ly co! And that felw with her, eh? Upon my soul, h’s a true knight. He never leaves her!’ Ham was a boat-builder in th days, having improved a natural ingenuity in that handicraft, until he had beme a skild Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 447 wrkman. He was in his wrkig-dres, and looked rugged eough, but manly withal, and a very fit protector for the bloomig lttle creature at his side Inded, there was a frankn in h face, an hoty, and an undisguid sho of his pride in her, and hi lve for her, whic were, to m, the bet of good looks I thought, as they cam towards us, that they were wel matched eve in that particular. She withdre her hand timidly fro his arm as we stopped to speak to th, and blusd as she gave it to Sterforth and to me. When they pased on, after we had exchanged a few words, sh did nt like to replac that hand, but, stil appearig timd and ctraid, walked by hersef. I thought al this very pretty and engagig, and Steerforth seemed to thk so too, as w looked after them fadig away in the light of a young moon. Suddenly thre passed us—evidently foing th—a young woman whose approac we had nt obsrved, but whose fac I saw as sh went by, and thought I had a fait rembranc of. She was lightly dressed; looked bold, and haggard, and flauntig, and poor; but sd, for the tim, to have given all that to the wnd which was bling, and to have nothg in hr mind but going after them As the dark ditant lvel, absrbig their figures into itself, left but itself vibl betw us and th sea and cuds, hr figure disappeared in like manner, still no nearer to th than before ‘That i a black shadow to be following the girl,’ said Sterforth, standing still; ‘what doe it mean?’ He spoke in a low voice that sounded almost strange to Me ‘She must have it in her mind to beg of them, I thk,’ said I. ‘A beggar wuld be no novelty,’ said Sterforth; ‘but it is a Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 448 strange thing that the beggar should take that shape tonight.’ ‘Why?’ I asked. ‘For n better reason, truly, than beause I was thinkig,’ he said, after a paus, ‘of somethg like it, wh it came by. Where th Devil did it come fro, I woder!’ ‘From th shado of this wal, I thk,’ said I, as w erged upo a road on which a wal abutted. ‘It’s gone!’ he returned, lookig over his shoulder. ‘Ad al ill go with it. Now for our dir!’ But he looked agai over his shoulder towards the sea-lin glimmering afar off, and yet again. And he wondered about it, in some broke expressions, several times, in th short remainder of our walk; and only seemed to forget it wen the lght of fire and candle sho upo us, seated warm and merry, at table. Littimer was thre, and had his usual effect upo me. Whe I said to hi that I hoped Mrs. Sterforth and Mis Dartle were wll, he answered respectfuly (and of course repetably), that thy wre tolerably we, he thanked me, and had sent thr compliments. This was all, and yet he seed to me to say as plainly as a man culd say: ‘You are very young, sir; you are exceedigly young.’ We had almost finished dir, wh taking a step or tw toards the table, from the corner where he kept watch upo us, or rather upo me, as I felt, he said to his master: ‘I beg your pardo, sir. Miss Mor is dow here.’ ‘Who?’ cried Sterforth, much astonished. ‘Miss Mor, sir.’ ‘Why, what on earth does she do here?’ said Sterforth ‘It appears to be her native part of the cuntry, sr. Sh iforms Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 449 m that se make one of her professonal vists here, every year, sir. I met hr i th stret this aftern, and she wished to kn if she might have th hour of waiting on you after dinner, sir.’ ‘Do you know th Giantes in queti, Daisy?’ inquired Steerforth. I was obliged to confes—I felt ashamed, eve of being at this diadvantage before Littimr—that Mis Mowcher and I were wlly unacquainted. ‘Then you sal know her,’ said Steerforth, ‘for she is one of the seven wonders of th world. Whe Miss Mor comes, sho hr in.’ I felt some curisity and excitet about this lady, especially as Sterforth burst into a fit of laughing when I referred to her, and positivey refused to answer any queti of which I made hr the subject. I reaied, therefore, in a state of cderabl expetati until the cloth had be removed so half an hour, and we were sitting over our deanter of win before the fire, when the door oped, and Littimr, with hi habitual serenty quite undisturbed, announced: ‘Miss Mor!’ I looked at the doorway and saw nothing. I was sti lookig at the doorway, thinkig that Mis Mowcher was a log whil making her appearance, w, to my infinite astonishment, thre came waddling round a sofa which stod betw me and it, a pursy dwarf, of about forty or forty-five, with a very large head and face, a pair of roguish grey eye, and such extrey littl arms, that, to eable hersf to lay a finger archly agait her snub nos, as se ogld Steerforth, she was oblged to meet the finger halfway, and lay her nose against it. Her chi, which was wat i Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 450 calld a double chi, was so fat that it entirely swallowd up th strings of hr bonnet, bow and al Throat she had none; waist she ad none; legs she had none, worth mentioning; for thugh she was more than ful-szed down to where her wait would have been, if se had had any, and though she termated, as human begs gerally do, i a pair of fet, she was so shrt that she stod at a common-sized chair as at a tabl, restig a bag she carrid on th seat. This lady—dred in an off-hand, easy styl; briging her no and her forefinger together, with the difficulty I have deribed; standig with her head nariy on one side, and, with on of her sharp eye shut up, making an unmmony knowig fac—after oglig Steerforth for a few mots, broke to a torrent of words ‘What! My flr!’ she pleasantly began, shakig her large had at hi ‘You’re there, are you! Oh, you naughty boy, fie for shame, what do you do so far away from home? Up to mef, I’ll be bound. Oh, you’re a dowy fe, Sterforth, so you are, and I’m another, ai’t I? Ha, ha, ha! You’d have betted a hundred pound to five, n, that you wouldn’t have seen me here, wouldn’t you? Bles you, man alve, I’m everywhere. I’m here and there, and were nt, like the cojurer’s half-cro i the lady’s handkercher. Talkig of handkerchers— and talkig of ladi— wat a comfort you are to your blessed mothr, ain’t you, my dear boy, over one of my shoulders, and I do’t say whic!’ Miss Mor untid her bot, at this passage of hr discourse, thre back th strings, and sat dow, panting, on a footstool i front of the fire—makig a kid of arbour of the dining tabl, which spread its mahgany sheter above her head. ‘Oh my stars and what’s-thir-nam!’ she wnt o, clapping a Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 451 hand o each of her littl knees, and glanng shredly at me, ‘I’m of too full a habit, that’s the fact, Steerforth. After a flight of stairs, it gives me as much troubl to draw every breath I want, as if it was a bucket of water. If you saw me lookig out of an upper window, you’d think I was a fi woman, wouldn’t you?’ ‘I should thk that, wherever I saw you,’ replied Steerforth ‘Go alg, you dog, do!’ crid the lttle creature, makig a whisk at him with the handkerchif with whic sh was wipig her fac, ‘and don’t be impudent! But I give you my word and hur I was at Lady Mithrs’s last wek— there’s a woman! How she wears!— and Mithers himf cam ito the room where I was waitig for her—there’s a man! Ho he wears! and his wig too, for he’s had it thes ten years—and he went on at that rate in the copltary line, that I began to thk I should be obliged to ring th bell. Ha! ha! ha! He’s a plasant wretch, but he wants principl’ ‘What were you doing for Lady Mithrs?’ asked Sterforth ‘That’s telgs, my bled infant,’ sh retorted, tappig her nose again, screg up her face, and twklg her eye like an you mid! You’d lke to imp of supernatural inteigece. ‘Never know whether I stop her hair from falg off, or dye it, or touch up her coplxion, or improve her eyebrows, wouldn’t you? Ad s you shal, my darlig—when I tell you! Do you know what my great grandfather’s nam was?’ ‘No,’ said Steerforth ‘It was Walker, my sweet pet,’ replied Mi Mor, ‘and he came of a long li of Walkers, that I inrit all th Hokey estate from.’ I never bed anythng approaching to Miss Mor’s wik except Miss Mor’s self-possion. She had a wderful way Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 452 too, when lteg to what was said to her, or when waitig for an aner to what she had said hersef, of pausig with her head cungly on one sde, and one eye turned up lke a magpi’s Altogethr I was lost in amazemt, and sat starig at her, quite oblvious, I am afraid, of the laws of potene She had by this time drawn th chair to her side, and was busily egaged i producig from the bag (plungig in her short arm to the shoulder, at every dive) a number of sal bottl, spoges, combs, bruss, bits of flanne, littl pairs of curling-iro, and othr instruments, which she tumbled in a hap upo th chair. Fro this employment she suddenly desisted, and said to Sterforth, much to my confusion: ‘Who’s your friend?’ ‘Mr. Copperfield,’ said Steerforth; ‘he wants to kn you.’ ‘Well, then, he sal! I thought he looked as if he did!’ returned Miss Mor, waddling up to me, bag in hand, and laughng o me as she came. ‘Face like a peach!’ standing on tipto to pinch my ck as I sat. ‘Quite tempting! I’m very fond of peaches Happy to make your acquaintance, Mr. Copperfield, I’m sure.’ I said that I cgratulated mysf on having the honour to make rs, and that th happines was mutual ‘Oh, my goodn, how pote we are!’ exclaid Mis Mowcher, makig a preposterous attempt to cover her large fac with her morsel of a hand. ‘What a world of gam and spinnage it is, thugh, ain’t it!’ This was addred cfidetialy to both of us, as the morse of a hand came away fro th face, and burid itself, arm and all, i the bag again ‘What do you mean, Miss Mor?’ said Sterforth Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 453 ‘Ha! ha! ha! What a refreshig set of humbugs we are, to be sure, ain’t w, my swet chid?’ replied that mors of a woman, feelig i the bag with her head on one sde and her eye in the air. ‘Lok hre!’ taking something out. ‘Scraps of th Russian Prince’s nails. Prince Alphabet turnd topsy-turvy, I call him, for hi am’s got all the letters in it, higgldy-piggledy.’ ‘Th Russian Price is a client of yours, is he?’ said Sterforth ‘I believe you, my pet,’ replied Miss Mor. ‘I keep hs nail in order for him. Twice a wek! Fingers and to.’ ‘He pays we, I hope?’ said Steerforth ‘Pays, as he speaks, my dear child—through th nose,’ replied Miss Mor. ‘Non of your clos shavers th Prince ain’t. You’d say so, if you saw his moustachios Red by nature, black by art.’ ‘By your art, of course,’ said Steerforth Miss Mor winked assent. ‘Forced to send for me. Couldn’t his dye; it did very well in Russia, but hlp it. Th cimate affected it was no go here. You never saw such a rusty Prince in all your born days as he was. Like old iro!’ ‘Is that wy you called him a humbug, just now?’ inquired Steerforth. ‘Oh, you’re a broth of a boy, ain’t you?’ returnd Miss Mor, shaking her head vitly. ‘I said, what a set of humbugs w wre in geral, and I shod you th scraps of th Price’s nais to prove it. Th Prince’s nails do more for me in private families of the gente sort, than al my talets put together. I always carry ’e about. They’re the bet introduction. If Mis Mowcher cuts the Prince’s nais, she must be all right. I give ’em away to th young ladies. They put ’em in albums, I beeve. Ha! ha! ha! Upon my life, “th wh social syste” (as th mn call it w thy make Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 454 spees in Parlament) is a syste of Prince’s nails!’ said this least of women, trying to fold her short arm, and noddig hr large head. Sterforth laughd heartily, and I laughd to Miss Mor continuing all th time to shake her head (wich was very much on one side), and to look ito the air with one eye, and to wk with the other. ‘Well, we!’ she said, smitig her smal knees, and rig, ‘ths is nt bus. Come, Steerforth, let’s explore the poar regions, and have it over.’ She then seted two or three of the lttle itrumts, and a lttle bottle, and asked (to my surpris) if the tabl would bear. On Sterforth’s replying in th affirmative, she pushed a chair against it, and begging th assistance of my hand, mounted up, pretty nbly, to the top, as if it were a stage. ‘If either of you saw my ankl,’ se said, when she was safely elevated, ‘say so, and I’l go home and detroy mysf!’ ‘I did not,’ said Sterforth ‘I did not,’ said I. ‘Well then,’ cried Miss Mor,’ I’l cot to live. No, ducky, ducky, ducky, come to Mrs. Bod and be kied.’ This was an invocati to Sterforth to place hif under her hands; wh, accordingly, sat himself dow, with his back to th tabl, and his laughing face towards m, and submitted hi head to hr inspection, evidetly for no othr purpo than our entertaient. To see Mi Moher standig over hi, lookig at his rich profusion of bron hair through a large round magnifying glass, which she tok out of her pocket, was a most amazig spectacle. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 455 ‘You’re a pretty felw!’ said Mis Mowcher, after a brif ipection. ‘You’d be as bald as a friar on the top of your head in twelve moths, but for me just half a mute, my young fried, and we’ll give you a polishig that shall keep your curls on for th xt ten years!’ With this, sh tilted so of the cotets of the lttle bottle on to one of the little bits of flann, and, again imparting so of the virtues of that preparati to one of the little brushes, began rubbig and srapig away with both on the crown of Sterforth’s head in the bust maner I ever witnd, talkig al the ti ‘Thre’s Charly Pyegrave, the duke’s son,’ she said. ‘You kn arley?’ peepig round into his face. ‘A little,’ said Steerforth ‘What a man he is! There’s a whisker! As to Charley’s legs, if thy were only a pair (wich thy ain’t), thy’d defy competition. Would you beve he tried to do without me—in the Life-Guards, too?’ ‘Mad!’ said Steerforth ‘It looks like it. Hover, mad or sane, he tried,’ returnd Mi Mowcher. ‘What do he do, but, l and behold you, he goes into a perfumer’s shop, and wants to buy a bottle of the Madagasar Liquid.’ ‘Charley do?’ said Steerforth. ‘Charley do But they haven’t got any of the Madagascar Liquid.’ ‘What is it? Something to drik?’ asked Sterforth ‘To drink?’ returnd Miss Mor, stopping to slap his chek. ‘To doctor his own moustachios with, you know. There was a wman in th shop—elderly female—quite a Griffin—w had Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 456 nver even heard of it by name. “Beggig pardo, sir,” said th Griffin to Charley, “it’s not—not—not rouge, is it?” “Rouge,” said Carly to the Griffin “What the unmetiabl to ears polite, do you think I want with rouge?” “No offence, sir,” said th Griffin; “w have it asked for by so many nam, I thought it might be” Now that, my child,’ continued Mi Mor, rubbing all th ti as busy as ever, ‘is another intan of the refresg humbug I was speakig of. I do sothing in that way mysf— perhaps a god deal—perhaps a littl—sharp’s th wrd, my dear boy—nver mid!’ ‘In what way do you mean? In the rouge way?’ said Sterforth. ‘Put this and that together, my tender pupi,’ returned the wary Mowcher, touchig her no, ‘work it by the rule of Serets in al trade, and the product will give you the dered result. I say I do a she calls it lip-salve lttle i that way mysf. One Dowager, Anothr, she call it gloves. Another, she cals it tucker-edging. Anothr, she cals it a fan. I cal it whatever they call it. I supply it for ’e, but we kep up the trick s, to one another, and make believe with such a face, that thy’d as soo thk of laying it o, before a whole drawg-room, as before me And when I wait upon ’em, thy’ll say to me sometimes— with it on—thick, and no mtake—“How am I lookig, Mowcher? Am I pal?” Ha! ha! ha! ha! Is’t that refreshig, my young friend!’ I never did in my days behd anythng like Mor as she tood upon the dig tabl, iteny enjoying this refreshmet, rubbig busy at Steerforth’s head, and wiking at me over it. ‘Ah!’ she said. ‘Suc things are not much in demand hereabouts. That sets m off again! I haven’t se a pretty woman since I’ve be here, jey.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 457 ‘No?’ said Steerforth ‘Not the ghost of one,’ repld Mis Mowcher. ‘We culd show her the substan of one, I think?’ said Steerforth, addresg his eyes to m. ‘Eh, Daiy?’ ‘Yes, indeed,’ said I. ‘Aha?’ cried th littl creature, glanng sharply at my face, and then peepig round at Steerforth’s. ‘Umph?’ The first excamati sounded lke a questio put to both of us, and the sed like a question put to Steerforth only. She sed to have found no anr to either, but ctiued to rub, with her head on oe sde and her eye turned up, as if she were lookig for an answer in th air and were confident of its appearing pretly. ‘A sister of yours, Mr. Copperfield?’ she cried, after a paus, and still keeping the same lok-out. ‘Aye, aye?’ ‘No,’ said Steerforth, before I could reply. ‘Nothing of the srt. On th contrary, Mr. Copperfield usd—or I am much mistaken— to have a great admratio for her.’ ‘Why, has’t he now?’ returned Mis Mowcher. ‘Is he fickl? Oh, for shame! Did he sip every flr, and change every hur, until Polly his passion requited?—Is her name Polly?’ Th Elfin suddenss with which she pounced upo me wth this question, and a sarcg look, quite dioncrted me for a moment. ‘No, Mi Mor,’ I replied. ‘Her name is Emily.’ ‘Aha?’ she cried exactly as before. ‘Umph? What a rattl I am! Mr. Copperfield, ain’t I voatile?’ Her tone and look impld sothing that was nt agreeabl to m in coexio with the subject. So I said, i a graver maner than any of us had yet assumed: ‘Sh is as virtuous as she is pretty. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 458 She is engaged to be marrid to a most worthy and deserving man her own stati of life. I esteem her for her good se, as muc as I admre her for her good looks’ ‘Well said!’ cried Sterforth ‘Hear, hear, hear! Now I’ll quech th curiity of this littl Fatia, my dear Daisy, by leaving hr nothing to guess at. She is at pret appreticed, Miss Mor, or artied, or whatever it may be, to Omer and Joram, Haberdashers, Mirs, and so forth, in this to. Do you observe? Omer and Joram. Th pro of which my friend has spoken, is made and etered into wth hr cousin; Cristian name, Ham; surnam, Peggotty; occupati, boat-builder; also of this to She lives with a relative; Christian name, unknown; surnam, Peggotty; occupati, seafaring; also of this to. She is the prettiet and mt engaging lttle fairy in the world. I admre hr—as my friend doe—excdingly. If it were not that I might appear to disparage her Intended, which I know my friend wuld nt like, I would add, that to me se seems to be throg herself away; that I am sure sh mght do better; and that I sar sh was born to be a lady.’ Miss Mor listed to th words, wh were very slowly and distinctly spoken, with her head o o side, and hr eye in th air as if she were still lookig for that answer. Whe h cased she became brisk again in an instant, and rattld away with surprising volubility. ‘Oh! Ad that’s all about it, is it?’ she excaimed, trimming hi iskers wth a littl restless pair of scissors, that went glancing round his head in all directions. ‘Very wll: very wll! Quite a long story. Ought to ed “and they lived happy ever afterwards”; oughtn’t it? Ah! What’s that gam at forfeits? I love my lve with Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 459 an E, beause se’s entig; I hate her wth an E, beause se’s gaged. I took her to the sign of the exquiste, and treated her wth an elopemet, her nam’s Emiy, and se live in the east? Ha! ha! ha! Mr. Copperfied, ai’t I volatil?’ Merely lookig at me with extravagant slyn, and not waitig for any reply, sh ctiued, without drawg breath: ‘There! If ever any scapegrac was trimd and touched up to perfection, you are, Steerforth. If I understand any noddl in th world, I understand yours. Do you hear me when I tell you that, my darling? I understand yours,’ peepig dow ito h face. ‘Now you may mizzle, jemmy (as we say at Court), and if Mr. Copperfid wi take the chair I’l operate on hi’ ‘What do you say, Daiy?’ inquired Sterforth, laughig, and resigning his seat. ‘Will you be improved?’ ‘Thank you, Mis Mowcher, not this eveg.’ ‘Don’t say n,’ returned the little woman, lookig at m with the aspect of a connoisseur; ‘a littl bit more eyebro?’ ‘Thank you,’ I returnd, ‘some othr time.’ ‘Have it carried half a quarter of an in towards the templ,’ said Miss Mor. ‘We can do it in a fortnght.’ ‘No, I thank you. Not at pret.’ ‘Go in for a tip,’ s urged. ‘No? Let’s get the saffoldig up, th, for a pair of whiskers. Come!’ I could not hlp blusng as I decd, for I felt we were on my weak pot, no But Mis Mowcher, findig that I was not at pret disposed for any decorati within th range of hr art, and that I was, for the tim beg, proof against the blandits of the sal bottle wh she held up before one eye to enforce her persuasions, said w wuld make a begig on an early day, and Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 460 requested the aid of my hand to ded from her elevated stati Thus assisted, she skipped dow with much agiity, and began to ti her double chin into her bonnet. ‘Th fee,’ said Steerforth, ‘is—’ ‘Five bob,’ replied Mi Mor, ‘and dirt cheap, my chicken. Ain’t I volatile, Mr. Copperfield?’ I replied poltely: ‘Not at all.’ But I thught she was rathr so, w she tossed up his tw half-cros like a gobl pieman, caught th, dropped th in her pocket, and gave it a loud slap. ‘That’s th Till!’ observed Miss Mor, standing at th chair again, and replacing i th bag a miscellanus colti of littl bjects she had emptied out of it. ‘Have I got all my traps? It see so. It won’t do to be like long Ned Beadwd, wh thy tok h to church “to marry him to somebody”, as he says, and left th bride behnd. Ha! ha! ha! A wiked rascal, Ned, but droll! Now, I know I’m going to break your hearts, but I am forced to lave you. You must call up all your fortitude, and try to bear it. Good-bye, Mr. Cpperfield! Take care of yourself, jokey of Norfok! Ho I have be rattlig on! It’s all the fault of you two wretc I forgive you! “Bob swore!”—as th Englishman said for “Good nght”, when he first learnt Fre, and thought it so like Engl “Bob swore,” my ducks!’ With the bag sung over her arm, and rattlig as sh waddld away, she waddled to th door, whre she stopped to inquire if she hould lave us a lok of her hair. ‘A’t I volatil?’ she added, as a ctary on this offer, and, with her finger on her no, departed. Sterforth laughd to that degre, that it was impossibl for me to help laughing too; though I am not sure I should have do so, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 461 but for this induct. Wh we had had our laugh quite out, whic was after s tim, he told me that Mis Mowcher had quite an exteve coexio, and made hersf useful to a variety of peopl in a variety of ways. So peopl trifld with her as a mere oddity, h said; but she was as shredly and sharply observant as anyo he knew, and as long-haded as she was hort-armd. He told m that what she had said of beg here, and there, and everywhere, was true enough; for se made lttl darts into th provinces, and sed to pick up custors everywre, and to know everybody. I asked him what her dispoition was: wthr it was at all mischievous, and if her sympath were genrally on the right side of things: but, not sucdig i attracting his attenti to thes questio after two or three attempts, I forbore or forgot to repeat them He told me intead, wth much rapidity, a god deal about her skill, and her profits; and about her beg a scientific cupper, if I should ever have ccasi for her service in that capacity. She was th pricipal th of our conversati during th evenig: and when we parted for the nght Steerforth cald after me over the banisters, ‘Bob swore!’ as I wet dowstairs I was surprid, wh I came to Mr. Barkis’s huse, to fid Ham walking up and dow in frot of it, and still more surprised to larn from hi that little Em’ly was ide I naturally inquired wy he was not there too, intead of pacg the streets by himelf? ‘Why, you se, Mas’r Davy,’ h rejod, in a hsitating manner, ‘Em’ly, she’s talkig to some ’un in here.’ ‘I should have thought,’ said I, sg, ‘that that was a reason for your beg in here too, Ham’ ‘Well, Mas’r Davy, in a geral way, so ’t would be,’ he returnd; Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 462 ‘but look’ee here, Mas’r Davy,’ lowring his voice, and speaking very gravey. ‘It’s a young woman, sir—a young woman, that Em’ly kned once, and doe’t ought to kn no more.’ Wh I heard thes words, a light began to fall upo the figure I had se following them, s hours ago. ‘It’s a poor wurem, Mas’r Davy,’ said Ham, ‘as is trod under foot by al the to. Up street and do street. The md o’ th churchyard don’t hod any that the folk shrik away fro, more.’ ‘Did I s her tonight, Ham, on the sand, after we met you?’ ‘Keping us in sight?’ said Ham. ‘It’s like you did, Mas’r Davy. Not that I know’d then, sh was theer, sir, but alg of her creepig soon arterwards under Em’ly’s little wider, when sh th light come, and whispering “Em’ly, Em’ly, for Christ’s sake, have a woan’s heart toards me. I was oce lke you!” Those was so words, Mas’r Davy, fur to hear!’ ‘Thy were indeed, Ham. What did Em’ly do?’ ‘Says Em’ly, “Martha, is it you? Oh, Martha, can it be you?”— for they had sat at work together, many a day, at Mr. Omr’s’ ‘I rellect her now!’ cried I, recalling on of th tw girls I had seen when I first wet there. ‘I reect her quite we!’ ‘Martha Endel,’ said Ham. ‘Tw or three year oder than Em’ly, but was at the school with her.’ ‘I never heard her name,’ said I. ‘I didn’t mean to interrupt you.’ ‘For the matter o’ that, Mas’r Davy,’ replied Ham, ‘al’s tod a’most in them words, “Em’ly, Em’ly, for Christ’s sake, have a wman’s hart toards me. I was once like you!” She wanted to peak to Em’ly. Em’ly couldn’t speak to her theer, for her lovig uncle was come ho, and he wouldn’t—n, Mas’r Davy,’ said Ham, with great earntne, ‘h couldn’t, kind-natur’d, tenderCharles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 463 hearted as he i, s them two together, side by side, for all the treasures that’s wreked in th sea.’ I felt ho true this was. I kn it, on th instant, quite as we as Ham ‘So Em’ly write in pen o a bit of paper,’ he pursued, ‘and gives it to her out o’ winder to brig here. “Show that,” s says, “to my aunt, Mrs. Barkis, and she’ll set you dow by hr fire, for the love of me, till unc is gone out, and I can c” By and by s tel m what I tel you, Mas’r Davy, and asks me to brig her. What can I do? Sh do’t ought to know any suc, but I can’t deny her, when the tears is on her face.’ He put his hand into th breast of his shaggy jacket, and tok out with great care a pretty little purse ‘And if I could deny hr wh th tears was on her face, Mas’r Davy,’ said Ham, tederly adjusting it on th rough palm of hi hand, ‘how could I dey her when she give m this to carry for hr—knowing what she brought it for? Such a toy as it is!’ said Ham, thoughtfully lookig on it. ‘With suc a little moy i it, Em’ly my dear.’ I shook hi warmly by the hand when he had put it away again—for that was more satisfactory to me than saying anything—and we walked up and down, for a miute or two, i The door oped then, and Peggotty appeared, bekonig to Ham to come in. I wuld have kept away, but she came after me, entreatig me to come in to Even then, I wuld have avoded the room where they al were, but for its beg the neat-tild kitchen I have metid more than onc The door opening immediatey into it, I found myself among th before I considered whithr I was gog. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 464 The girl—the sam I had s upon the sands—was near the fire. Sh was stting on the ground, with her head and one arm lying on a chair. I fancied, fro th dispoition of her figure, that Em’ly had but nwly ris from the chair, and that the forlorn head might perhaps have be lyig on her lap. I saw but little of th girl’s face, over which her hair fell loo and scattered, as if she ad be disorderig it with her own hands; but I saw that she was young, and of a fair cplxio Peggotty had be crying. So had little Em’ly. Not a word was spoke when we first went i; and th Dutc clock by th dresser seed, in th silence, to tick twice as loud as usual Em’ly spoke first. ‘Martha wants,’ she said to Ham, ‘to go to Lodo.’ ‘Why to Lodo?’ returned Ham. He stood betwee them, lookig on the prostrate girl with a mxture of cpason for her, and of jealousy of her holdig any companionship wth hr w h loved so we, which I have always remembered distictly. Thy both spoke as if she were ill; in a soft, suppressed to that was plainly hard, althugh it hardly ro above a whisper. ‘Better thre than hre,’ said a third voice aloud—Martha’s, though she did not move. ‘No one knows m there. Everybody knows m here.’ ‘What wi she do there?’ inquired Ham She lifted up her head, and looked darkly round at him for a moment; th laid it dow again, and curved her right arm about her nek, as a woman in a fever, or in an agony of pai from a shot, mght twist hersef. ‘She will try to do wel,’ said little Em’ly. ‘You do’t know what se has said to us. Does he—do they—aunt?’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 465 Peggotty shook her head copasnately. ‘I’ll try,’ said Martha, ‘if you’l hep me away. I nver can do wrs than I have done here. I may do better. Oh!’ wth a dreadful ver, ‘take m out of the streets, where the whole to knows me fro a child!’ A Em’ly held out her hand to Ham, I saw hi put i it a little canvas bag. She tok it, as if she thught it were her purs, and made a step or tw forward; but finding her mistake, came back to where he had retired near m, and showed it to him ‘It’s al yourn, Em’ly,’ I could hear him say. ‘I have’t nt in al the wureld that ai’t yourn, my dear. It ai’t of no deght to me, except for you!’ The tears ro freshly in her eyes, but se turned away and went to Martha. What she gave her, I do’t know. I saw her stoping over hr, and putting money in her bosom. She ispered somthing, as she asked was that enugh? ‘More than enough,’ the other said, and took her hand and kid it. Then Martha arose, and gatherig her saw about her, covering her face with it, and wping aloud, wnt sly to th door. She stopped a moment before going out, as if she would have uttered sthing or turned back; but no word pasd her lips Making th same low, dreary, wretched moaning in her shawl, she nt away. the door cosed, lttle Em’ly looked at us three in a hurried manr and then hid her fac i her hands, and fel to sobbig. ‘Doen’t, Em’ly!’ said Ham, tappig her gently on the shoulder. ‘Doen’t, my dear! You do’t ought to cry so, pretty!’ ‘Oh, Ham!’ she exclaimed, sti wping pitifully, ‘I am not so good a girl as I ought to be! I know I have not the thankful heart, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 466 stim, I ought to have!’ ‘Yes, yes, you have, I’m sure,’ said Ham. ‘No! no! no!’ cried littl Em’ly, sobbig, and shaking hr had. ‘I am nt as good a girl as I ought to be Not nar! nt nar!’ And sti she cried, as if her heart would break. ‘I try your love to much. I kn I do!’ she sobbed. ‘I’m ofte ross to you, and changeabl with you, when I ought to be far differet. You are nver so to me. Why am I ever so to you, wen I should think of nthing but how to be grateful, and to make you happy!’ ‘You always make me so,’ said Ham, ‘my dear! I am happy i the sight of you. I am happy, al day log, in the thoughts of you.’ ‘Ah! that’s not enough!’ sh crid. ‘That is beause you are good; nt beause I am! Oh, my dear, it mght have be a better fortune for you, if you had been fond of soone el—of sone steadier and much worthr than me, wh was all bound up in you, and never vain and changeable like me!’ ‘Poor lttle teder-heart,’ said Ham, in a l voice. ‘Martha has overst her, altogether.’ ‘Please, aunt,’ sobbed Em’ly, ‘come here, and lt me lay my head upo you. Oh, I am very mirable tonight, aunt! Oh, I am nt as good a girl as I ought to be I am not, I know!’ Peggotty had hasted to the chair before the fire. Em’ly, with her arm around her nek, kneeled by her, lokig up mot earntly into her fac ‘Oh, pray, aunt, try to hep me! Ham, dear, try to hep me! Mr. David, for th sake of old times, do, please, try to help me! I want to be a better girl than I am I want to fee a hundred tim mre thankful than I do I want to fee mre, what a bld thing it is to Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 467 be th wife of a god man, and to lead a peaceful life Oh me, o me! Oh my heart, my heart!’ She dropped her face on my old nurs’s breast, and, ceasing this supplicati, w in its agoy and grief was half a woan’s, half a child’s, as all her manner was (beng, i that, more natural, and better suited to her beauty, as I thought, than any other manner could have bee), wept silently, w my od nurs hushed her like an infant. She got caler by degrees, and then we soothed her; no talkig enuragigly, and nw jestig a little with her, until sh began to rai her head and speak to us. So we got on, until s was abl to sm, and then to laugh, and then to st up, half ashamd; whil Peggotty recald her stray ringlts, drid her eye, and made her neat again, lest her un should wnder, wen she got home, why his darlg had been cryig. I saw her do, that nght, what I had nver se her do before. I saw her innocently kiss her cho husband o th chek, and crep clos to his bluff form as if it were her best support. Whe they went away together, in the wang mlight, and I lked after them, coparig their departure in my mind with Martha’s, I saw that she hed his arm with both hr hands, and sti kept clos to him Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 468 Chapter 23 I CORROBORATE MR. DICK, AND CHOOSE A PROFESSION Wh I awoke in the morning I thought very muc of little Em’ly, and hr emtion last night, after Martha had left. I felt as if I had come into th knowledge of th domestic weaknesses and tenderne in a sacred confidece, and that to disclose th, even to Steerforth, would be wrong. I had no getlr feelig towards anyone than towards the pretty creature who had be my playmate, and wh I have always bee persuaded, and shall always be persuaded, to my dyig day, I th devotedly loved. Th repetition to any ears—even to Sterforth’s—of what sh had be unabl to repres when her heart lay open to me by an acdet, I felt would be a rough deed, unworthy of mysf, unworthy of the lght of our pure chdhood, which I always saw encircg her head. I made a reution, therefore, to keep it in my own breast; and thre it gave her image a new grace While we were at breakfast, a letter was delivered to me fro my aunt. As it contaid matter on which I thught Sterforth uld advise me as w as anyo, and on which I kn I should be deghted to consult him, I resved to make it a subjet of discussion on our journey ho For th pret we had eugh to do, in taking leave of all our friends. Mr. Barkis was far fro beg the last amg them, in his regret at our departure; and I beeve would even have opened the box agai, and sacrifid anothr guinea, if it would have kept us eight-and-forty hours in Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 469 Yarmouth. Peggotty and al her famiy were full of grief at our going. The whole house of Omr and Joram turned out to bid us god-bye; and thre were so many seafaring volunters in attedan on Steerforth, when our portmanteaux wet to th ach, that if we had had the baggage of a regimt with us, we should hardly have wanted porters to carry it. In a wrd, w departed to th regret and admirati of all concerned, and left a us. great many pepl very sorry bend Do you stay log here, Littimr?’ said I, as he stood waitig to see the coach start. ‘No, sir,’ he replied; ‘probably nt very log, sir.’ ‘He can hardly say, just now,’ observed Sterforth, carelesly. ‘He kns what he has to do, and he’ll do it.’ ‘That I am sure he wi,’ said I. Littimr touched his hat in acknowledgeent of my good opinion, and I felt about eight years old. He toucd it oce more, wishing us a god journey; and we left hm standing o th pavement, as respectable a mystery as any pyramd in Egypt. For some littl time we hld no conversati, Sterforth being unusually silent, and I beig sufficiently engaged in wonderig, wth mysf, when I should see the old plac agai, and wat nw canges mght happe to m or them in the meanwhil At length Sterforth, becoming gay and talkative in a moment, as h uld become anythng he liked at any moment, pulled me by th arm: ‘Fid a voice, David. What about that letter you were speaking of at breakfast?’ ‘Oh!’ said I, takig it out of my pocket. ‘It’s fro my aunt.’ ‘And what doe she say, requiring consideration?’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 470 ‘Why, she reminds me, Steerforth,’ said I, ‘that I came out on this expeditio to look about me, and to think a little’ ‘Which, of course, you have don?’ ‘Inded I can’t say I have, particularly. To tel you the truth, I am afraid I have forgotten it.’ ‘Wel! look about you now, and make up for your negligece,’ said Sterforth. ‘Look to the right, and you’l se a flat country, with a good deal of marsh i it; lok to the left, and you’ll se the same. Lok to th frot, and you’ll find no difference; look to th rear, and thre it is still.’ I laughd, and replied that I saw no suitable profesion in th wh propect; which was perhaps to be attributed to its flatne ‘What says our aunt on the subject?’ iquired Steerforth, glang at the letter in my hand. ‘Does sh suggest anything?’ ‘Why, yes,’ said I. ‘She asks me, here, if I thk I should like to be a protor? What do you think of it?’ ‘Well, I don’t kn,’ replied Steerforth, coy. ‘You may as w do that as anythng el, I suppose?’ I could not help laughng again, at his balancing all calgs and profession so equally; and I told him so. ‘What is a protor, Sterforth?’ said I. ‘Why, he is a sort of monkish attorny,’ replied Sterforth ‘He is, to some faded courts hed in Doctors’ Co,—a lazy old nook near St. Paul’s Churchyard—what solicitors are to th courts of law and equity. He is a funtiary whose existenc, i th atural course of things, would have termiated about two hundred years ago I can tell you best what he is, by teing you what Doctors’ Commns is It’s a lttle out-of-the-way place, where thy administer what is called eciastial law, and play all kinds Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 471 of tricks with obste old mnsters of acts of Parliamt, whic three-fourths of the world know nothing about, and the other fourth supposes to have be dug up, in a foil state, i th days f th Edwards. It’s a plac that has an ancient monopoly i suits about people’s wis and people’s marriage, and dispute amg ships and boats.’ ‘Nonnse, Sterforth!’ I exclaimed. ‘You don’t mean to say that there is any affinity betwee nautical matters and eastial atters?’ ‘I don’t, indeed, my dear boy,’ he returnd; ‘but I mean to say that thy are managed and decded by th same set of people, dow in that same Doctors’ Cos. You shal go thre on day, and find them blundering through half the nautical terms in Young’s Dictionary, apropos of th “Nancy” having run dow th “Sarah Jane”, or Mr. Peggotty and the Yarmouth boatm having put off in a gal of wind with an anhor and cable to the “Ne” Indiaman in distress; and you shall go thre anothr day, and find them deep in the evide, pro and co, repectig a cergyman has misbeaved himself; and you shall find th judge in th nautical case, th advoate in th clergyman’s case, or contrariise. Thy are like actors: now a man’s a judge, and now he i nt a judge; now he’s one thing, now he’s another; now he’s thing e, cange and change about; but it’s always a very pleasant, profitable littl affair of private thatricals, preted to an unly select audice.’ ‘But advocates and protors are not on and th same?’ said I, a lttle puzzld. ‘Are they?’ ‘No,’ returned Steerforth, ‘th advocates are civians—men have taken a doctor’s degre at colge—wich is th first Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 472 reason of my knowing anything about it. The proctors employ the advocates Both get very cofortabl fee, and altogether they make a mghty sug little party. On the whole, I would recd you to take to Dotors’ Coons kindly, David. They plume themsves o their getity there, I can te you, if that’s any satisfacti.’ I made allwanc for Sterforth’s light way of treating the subjet, and, cderig it with referen to the staid air of gravity and antiquity which I associated with that ‘lazy od nook near St. Paul’s Churchyard’, did not fe indispod toards my aunt’s suggestion; wich she left to my fre decsion, making no srupl of tellig me that it had occurred to her, on her lately visiting hr on protor in Doctors’ Co for th purpo of sttlig her will in my favour. ‘That’s a laudabl proceedig on the part of our aunt, at al events,’ said Steerforth, when I metid it; ‘and oe dervig of all enuraget. Daisy, my advice is that you take kidly to Doctors’ Common.’ I quite made up my mind to do so. I th tod Sterforth that my aunt was in town awaiting m (as I found from her letter), and that she had taken lodgigs for a wek at a kind of private hte at Lioln’s Inn Fields, where there was a stone staircase, and a conveient door i th rof; my aunt beig firmly persuaded that every house in London was going to be burnt down every night. We aceved the ret of our journy pleasantly, sti recurring to Doctors’ Common, and anticipating th distant days I should be a protor thre, which Sterforth pictured in a variety of humorous and whimal lights, that made us both mrry. Wh we cam to our journy’s end, he wet ho, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 473 egaging to call upo me nxt day but one; and I drove to Lincoln’s Inn Fids, whre I found my aunt up, and waitig supper. If I had bee round th world since we parted, we could hardly have be better pleased to meet again. My aunt cried outright as se embraced m; and said, pretendig to laugh, that if my poor mther had be alive, that siy little creature would have shd tears, she had no doubt. ‘So you have left Mr. Dik bed, aunt?’ said I. ‘I am sorry for that. Ah, Jant, ho do you do?’ As Janet curtsied, hopig I was well, I observed my aunt’s visage legthen very muc ‘I am sorry for it, to,’ said my aunt, rubbing her no. ‘I have had no peace of mid, Trot, s I have been here.’ Before I could ask why, she tod me. ‘I am conviced,’ said my aunt, laying her hand with lanholy firmn on the table, ‘that Dik’s character is nt a caracter to kep the dokeys off. I am cofidet he wants trength of purpose I ought to have left Jant at home, itead, and then my mnd mght perhaps have be at eas If ever there was a donkey trespasg on my gree,’ said my aunt, with ephasis, ‘thre was on this aftern at four o’clock. A cod know it was a feelig cam over me from head to foot, and I donkey!’ I tried to comfort her on this poit, but she rejected conation. ‘It was a donkey,’ said my aunt; ‘and it was the one with the stumpy tail wich that Murdering sister of a woan rode, wh e cam to my house.’ Th had been, ever sie, the only nam y aunt knew for Mi Murdstone. ‘If there is any Donkey i Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 474 Dover, whose audacty it is harder to me to bear than another’s, that,’ said my aunt, strikig the table, ‘is the animal!’ Jant ventured to suggest that my aunt might be diturbig herself unnariy, and that she beeved the dokey in question was then egaged in the sand-and-gravel l of bus, and was not availabl for purpo of trepass. But my aunt wuldn’t hear of it. Supper was cofortably served and hot, though my aunt’s rooms were very high up—whether that she might have more stone stairs for her moy, or might be narer to the door in the roof, I do’t know—and coted of a roast fowl, a steak, and some vegetabl, to al of which I did ampl justice, and wich wre all excelt. But my aunt had her own ideas conrning London provision, and ate but littl ‘I suppose this unfortunate fo was born and brought up in a cellar,’ said my aunt, ‘and never tok th air except o a hackney coach-stand. I hope the steak may be beef, but I do’t beeve it. Nothing’s genuine in th plac, in my opinion, but th dirt.’ ‘Don’t you think the fowl may have co out of the cuntry, aunt?’ I hinted. ‘Crtaiy nt,’ returned my aunt. ‘It would be no plasure to a London tradesan to sel anythng which was what he preteded it was.’ I did not venture to controvert this opinion, but I made a god supper, wich it greatly satisfid her to see me do. Whe th tabl as cleared, Janet assisted her to arrange her hair, to put o hr nightcap, wich was of a smarter contructi than usual (‘in case of fire’, my aunt said), and to fold her gown back over her knees, thes beg her usual preparati for warmg hersef before Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 475 going to bed. I then made her, acrdig to crtai etablihed regulations from which no deviatin, however sght, culd ever be permitted, a glass of hot win and water, and a sl of toast cut ito log thin strips With thes acpants we were left alon to finish th eveing, my aunt sitting opposite to me drinking hr w and water; soaking her strips of toast in it, on by one, before eating them; and lookig begnantly on me, from among the borders of her nightcap. ‘We, Trot,’ sh began, ‘what do you think of the proctor plan? Or have you not begun to think about it yet?’ ‘I have thught a god deal about it, my dear aunt, and I have talked a good deal about it with Sterforth. I like it very muc indeed. I like it exceedigly.’ ‘Come!’ said my aunt. ‘That’s cheerig!’ ‘I have ony one difficulty, aunt.’ ‘Say what it is, Trot,’ she returned. ‘Why, I want to ask, aunt, as this sees, fro what I understand, to be a lted profes, whether my entran into it would not be very expensive?’ ‘It wi cost,’ returned my aunt, ‘to article you, just a thusand pounds.’ ‘No, my dear aunt,’ said I, drawig my chair nearer, ‘I am unasy in my mind about that. It’s a large sum of money. You have xpeded a great deal o my educati, and have alays be as liberal to me in all thgs as it was possible to be You have be th soul of gerosity. Surely thre are some ways in which I mght begin life with hardly any outlay, and yet begin with a good hope of getting on by resutio and exertio Are you sure that it would not be better to try that course? Are you crtai that you Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 476 can afford to part with so muc moy, and that it is right that it should be so expended? I only ask you, my second mothr, to nsider. Are you certain?’ My aunt fined eatig the piece of toast on wh se was then engaged, lookig m full in the fac al the whil; and then tting hr glass on th chiy-piece, and folding her hands upo her folded skirts, replied as fol: ‘Trot, my child, if I have any object in life, it is to provide for your being a god, a sensible, and a happy man I am bent upo it—so is Dick. I should like some people that I know to har Dick’s versation on the subjet. Its sagacty is wonderful But no on knows th resources of that man’s intet, except myself!’ She stopped for a moment to take my hand betw hers, and went on: ‘It’s in vai, Trot, to recall th past, unless it works some ifluen upon the pret. Perhaps I might have be better frieds with your poor father. Perhaps I mght have be better friends wth that poor chid your mothr, eve after your sister Betsey Trotwood diappoted me Wh you cam to me, a little runaway boy, all dusty and way-worn, perhaps I thought so From that tim until now, Trot, you have ever be a credit to me and a pride and a plasure. I have no othr claim upo my means; at last’—hre to my surpris sh hestated, and was cfused—‘n, I have no othr claim upo my means—and you are my adopted child. Only be a loving child to me in my age, and bear with my wims and fancies; and you wi do more for an old wan w prime of life was not so happy or conciliating as it might have been, than ever that old woan did for you.’ It was th first time I had heard my aunt refer to hr past Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 477 history. Thre was a magnanity in her quiet way of doig so, and of dismissing it, which would have exalted hr i my respect and affection, if anythng could. ‘Al is agreed and understod between us, n, Trot,’ said my aunt, ‘and we need talk of this no more. Give me a kiss, and w’l go to the Co after breakfast tomorrow.’ We had a lg chat by the fire before we wet to bed. I slept in a room on the sam floor with my aunt’s, and was a little diturbed i the course of the night by her knockig at my door as often as she was agitated by a distant sound of hackney-cache or marketcarts, and inquirig, ‘if I hard th egis?’ But toards morng she slept better, and suffered me to do so to At about mid-day, w set out for th office of Messrs Spenlow and Jorki, in Doctors’ Commons. My aunt, who had this other geral opinion in refere to London, that every man she saw was a pikpocket, gave me her purse to carry for her, whic had ten guineas in it and some silver. We made a pause at the toy shop in Fleet Street, to see th giants of Sait Dunstan’s strike upon the be—we had timd our going, so as to catch them at it, at twelve o’cock—and then went o toards Ludgate Hill, and St. Paul’s Churchyard. We were crossing to th formr place, wh I found that my aunt greatly acrated her speed, and loked frightened. I obsrved, at th same time, that a lowring ill-dred man wh had stopped and stared at us in passing, a littl before, was coming so clos after us as to brus against her. ‘Trot! My dear Trot!’ cried my aunt, in a terrifid wisper, and pressing my arm ‘I don’t kn what I am to do.’ ‘Don’t be alarmed,’ said I. ‘Thre’s nthg to be afraid of. Step Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 478 ito a shop, and I’ll soon get rid of this fellow.’ ‘No, no, child!’ she returned. ‘Don’t speak to him for the world. I entreat, I order you!’ ‘Good Heaven, aunt!’ said I. ‘He is nothg but a sturdy beggar.’ ‘You do’t know what he is!’ repld my aunt. ‘You don’t know who he is! You do’t know what you say!’ We had stopped in an empty door-way, wile this was passing, and he had stopped too. ‘Don’t look at him!’ said my aunt, as I turned my head indignantly, ‘but get me a coach, my dear, and wait for me in St. Paul’s Churchyard.’ ‘Wait for you?’ I replied. ‘Yes,’ rejoind my aunt. ‘I must go ale. I must go with him.’ ‘With him, aunt? This man?’ ‘I am in my senses,’ she replied, ‘and I te you I must. Get mea coach!’ Hover much astonished I might be, I was sensible that I had no right to refuse compliance with such a pereptory command. I hurrid away a fe paces, and called a hackney-carit which was passing empty. Almost before I could let dow th steps, my aunt sprang i, I do’t know how, and the man followed. She waved her hand to m to go away, so earnetly, that, al confounded as I was, I turned from them at onc In dog so, I heard her say to the coachman, ‘Drive anywre! Drive straight on!’ and pretly th arit pasd m, going up the hill What Mr. Dik had told me, and wat I had supposd to be a delus of hi, now came into my mind. I could not doubt that this person was the person of whom he had made suc mysterious mti, though what the nature of his hold upo my aunt culd Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 479 possibly be, I was quite unable to imagine After half an hour’s ing in th churchyard, I saw th chariot coming back. Th driver stopped beside me, and my aunt was sitting in it al She had not yet sufficiently revered fro her agitation to be quite prepared for th visit we had to make. She desired me to get ito the charit, and to tell the cacan to drive sowly up and do a lttle whe. She said n more, except, ‘My dear chd, never ask me what it was, and don’t refer to it,’ until she had perfetly regained her compoure, wh she told me she was quite hersef nw, and we might get out. On her giving m her purse to pay the driver, I found that al the guinas were gone, and only the loose siver reaied. Doctors’ Common was approached by a littl low archway. Before w had taken many paces dow th stret beyod it, th noise of th city seed to melt, as if by magic, into a softed ditanc A few dul curts and narrow ways brought us to the skylighted offices of Spenlow and Jorkins; in th vestibul of which temple, accessibl to pilgrims withut th ceremony of knking, three or four clerks were at wrk as cpyits. On of the, a littl dry man, sitting by himelf, who wore a stiff brown wig that looked as if it were made of gingerbread, ro to receive my aunt, and show us into Mr. Spew’s room. ‘Mr. Spenl’s in Court, ma’am,’ said the dry man; ‘it’s an Arche day; but it’s clos by, and I’ll sed for him directly.’ A we were left to look about us whil Mr. Spew was fetched, I availed myself of th opportunity. Th furniture of th ro was d-fashioned and dusty; and th gre baize on th top of th riting-tabl had lost all its colour, and was as wthred and pale as an old pauper. There were a great many bundl of papers on it, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 480 some edorsd as Allegatis, and some (to my surprise) as Libels, and s as beg i the Ctory Curt, and so in the Arc Court, and so in the Prerogative Court, and so i th dmralty Court, and so in the Degates’ Court; giving me occason to wonder muc, how many Courts there might be in the gross, and how log it would take to understand them all Besde the, there were sundry ime manusript Books of Evidenc take on affidavit, strongly bound, and tied together i masve ts, a set to each caus, as if every caus were a history in ten or twenty volum Al this looked tolerably expeve, I thought, and gave me an agreabl noti of a protor’s busines. I was castig my eyes wth ireasg coplacy over the and many siar objects, w hasty fotsteps were heard in th ro outside, and Mr. Spenlow, in a black go trimmed with white fur, came hurrying in, takig off his hat as he cam He was a littl light-haired gentleman, with undeniable boots, and th stiffest of white cravats and shirt-coars. He was buttod up, mighty trim and tight, and must have take a great deal of pains with his whkers, wh were accurately curld. His god watc-chain was so massive, that a fany came across me, that he ought to have a siy golde arm, to draw it out with, like those whic are put up over the goldbeaters’ shops He was got up with such care, and was so stiff, that he could hardly bed hif; beg oblged, wh he glanced at some papers on his desk, after stting down i hi chair, to move his whole body, from the bottom of his spine, like Pun I had previously bee preted by my aunt, and had bee urteusly received. He now said: ‘And s, Mr. Copperfield, you thk of enterig ito our Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 481 profession? I casually mentioned to Miss Trotwd, wh I had the plasure of an iterview with her the other day,’—with anothr inclination of his body—Punch again—‘that thre was a vacancy hre. Miss Trotwd was god enugh to mention that she had a nephe wh was her pecular care, and for w she as seeking to provide gentely in life. That nephe, I beve, I have no the pleasure of’—Punch agai I bod my acknledgets, and said, my aunt had mentioned to me that there was that openig, and that I beeved I should like it very much. That I was strongly ind to like it, and had taken diatey to the proposal That I culd nt absutely pldge mysf to like it, until I kn sothing more about it. That although it was little e than a matter of form, I preumd I should have an opportunity of trying how I liked it, before I bound myself to it irrevocably. ‘Oh surely! surely!’ said Mr. Spenlow ‘We always, in th house, propose a mth—an intiatory moth. I should be happy, mysf, to propose two mths—three—an indefinite period, in fact—but I have a partner. Mr. Jorki’ ‘And th preium, sir,’ I returnd, ‘is a thusand pounds?’ ‘And th preium, Stamp included, is a thusand pounds,’ said Mr. Spenlo ‘A I have mtid to Mis Trotwood, I am actuated by no mercary considerations; fe mn are less so, I beeve; but Mr. Jorki has hi opi on the subjects, and I am bound to respect Mr. Jorkins’s opinions. Mr. Jorkins thinks a thousand pounds too lttle, in short.’ ‘I suppose, sir,’ said I, still desirig to spare my aunt, ‘that it is not th custo here, if an articled clrk wre particularly usful, and made hmself a perfet master of his profe’—I could not Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 482 hlp blusng, this looked so lke praising myself—‘I suppo it i t the custom, in the later years of his tim, to alw him any—’ Mr. Spenl, by a great effort, just lifted his head far enough ut of his cravat to shake it, and answered, anticipating th wrd ‘salary’: ‘No. I wil nt say what coderati I might give to that pot mysf, Mr. Copperfied, if I were unfettered. Mr. Jorki is immovable.’ I was quite dismayed by th idea of this terribl Jorkis. But I found out afterwards that he was a mild man of a heavy teperamt, whose plac in the bus was to keep hif i the background, and be cnstantly exhibited by nam as the mot obdurate and ruthle of me If a clrk wanted his salary raid, Mr. Jorkins wouldn’t liste to such a proposition. If a client wre slow to settl his bill of costs, Mr. Jorkins was resolved to have it paid; and however paiful thes things might be (and alays were) to the feegs of Mr. Spew, Mr. Jorki would have his bod. The heart and hand of the good angel Spenlow would have be alays ope, but for the restraig den Jorki As I have grown older, I think I have had experienc of s other huses doig busss on th principl of Spenlow and Jorkis! It was settld that I should begin my month’s probation as soo as I pleased, and that my aunt need neithr remain in to nor return at its expiration, as th arti of agret, of wich I was to be th subjet, could easily be sent to hr at h for hr sgnature. Wh we had got so far, Mr. Spew offered to take m to Court then and there, and show me what sort of place it was I was wilg enough to know, we went out with this object, leavig my aunt behnd; wh would trust hersf, she said, in no Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 483 such place, and wh, I thk, regarded al Courts of Law as a sort of powder-mils that might blow up at any tim Mr. Spenlow coducted me through a paved courtyard formd of grave brick house, which I inferred, fro th Doctors’ names upon the doors, to be the offical abidig-plac of the learnd advocates of wh Sterforth had told me; and into a large dull room, not unlike a chape to my thinkig, on the lft hand. The upper part of this ro was fed off fro th rest; and thre, o the two sides of a raid platform of the horse-shoe form, stting on easy od-fashioned dining-ro chairs, were sundry gentlemen in red gowns and grey wigs, whom I found to be the Dotors aforeaid. Blking over a littl desk like a pulpit-dek, in th urve of the horse-shoe, was an old gentlan, whom, if I had se in an aviary, I should certaiy have taken for an owl, but who, I learnd, was the presdig judge. In the space with the horsshoe, lower than thes, that is to say, on about the lvel of the floor, were sundry other gentl, of Mr. Spew’s rank, and dred lke hi i black gowns with white fur upon them, sitting at a log gree tabl Their cravats were in genral stiff, I thought, and thr looks haughty; but in this last respect I pretly ceived I had do them an injusti, for wen two or three of them had to ris and ansr a questio of the predig digntary, I never saw anythng more shepish. Th public, repreted by a boy with a coforter, and a shabby-genteel man sretly eatig crumbs out of his coat pockets, was warming itself at a stove i th centre of th Court. Th languid stillness of th place was only broke by th chirping of this fire and by th voice of on of th Doctors, who was wandering slowly through a perfect library of evide, and stoppig to put up, from tim to tim, at little Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 484 roadsde inns of argumet on the journey. Altogether, I have never, on any ocasion, made on at such a coy, dosey, odfasd, tim-forgotten, slpy-headed lttle famiy-party in al my life; and I felt it would be quite a soothng opiate to belong to it in any character—except perhaps as a suitor. Very wel satisfid with the dreamy nature of this retreat, I iformed Mr. Spew that I had se enough for that tim, and w rejod my aunt; in company with wh I pretly departed from the Comm, feelig very young when I wet out of Spenlow and Jorkis’s, on account of th clerks poking on another with their pe to pot me out. We arrived at Lincoln’s Inn Fields withut any new adventure, except encunterig an unucky dokey in a ctermger’s cart, w suggested painful assocations to my aunt. We had anothr long talk about my plans, wh we were safely hused; and as I knew she was anxious to get home, and, between fire, food, and pickpockets, could never be condered at her ease for half-anhour in London, I urged her not to be unfortable o my acunt, but to leave m to take care of mysf. ‘I have not be here a week tomorrow, without cdering that too, my dear,’ sh returned. ‘There is a furnhed little st of cambers to be lt in the Adeph, Trot, whic ought to suit you to a marve’ With this brief introducti, she producd fro hr pocket an advertisement, carefully cut out of a nepaper, setting forth that in Buckingham Stret in th Adephi thre was to be let furnished, wth a vi of th river, a singularly desirable, and compact set of cambers, formig a gente resde for a young gentlan, a mber of one of the In of Court, or otherwise, with idiate Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 485 possession. Terms moderate, and could be taken for a month oly, if required. ‘Why, this i the very thing, aunt!’ said I, flushed with the possibl dignity of living in chambers ‘Thn come,’ replied my aunt, immediatey resuming th boet she had a mute before laid asde. ‘We’l go and look at ’em.’ Aay we went. The advertist directed us to apply to Mrs. rupp o th preises, and we rung th area be, which we supposed to communicate with Mrs. Crupp. It was not until w had rung three or four ti that we could prevai on Mrs. Crupp to communicate with us, but at last she appeared, being a stout lady with a flun of flannel petticoat below a nanke go ‘Let us see th chambers of yours, if you please, ma’am,’ said my aunt. ‘For this gentleman?’ said Mrs. Crupp, feg in her pocket for her keys. ‘Yes, for my nephew,’ said my aunt. ‘And a swet set thy is for sich!’ said Mrs. Crupp. So we went upstairs They were on the top of the house—a great pot with my aunt, beig near th fire-escape—and consisted of a littl half-blind entry where you could see hardly anythig, a lttle stone-bld pantry whre you could see nothing at all, a sitting-ro, and a bedroom. The furniture was rather faded, but quite good enough for me; and, sure enough, the river was outside the windows. I was deghted with the plac, my aunt and Mrs. Crupp wthdre into th pantry to discuss th terms, wh I reaid o th sitting-ro sofa, hardly daring to think it posible that I could Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 486 be destined to live in such a nobl residen After a single combat of so duratio they returned, and I saw, to my joy, both in Mrs. rupp’s countenance and in my aunt’s, that th deed was done ‘Is it th last occupant’s furniture?’ inquired my aunt. ‘Yes, it is, ma’am,’ said Mrs. Crupp. ‘What’s become of him?’ asked my aunt. Mrs. Crupp was taken with a troubl cough, in th mdst of which she articulated with much difficulty. ‘He was tok ill hre, ma’am, and—ugh! ugh! ugh! dear me!—and he did!’ ‘Hey! What did he die of?’ asked my aunt. ‘Well, ma’am, he died of drink,’ said Mrs. Crupp, i confidence. ‘And smke.’ ‘Smoke? You don’t mean chimneys?’ said my aunt. ‘No, ma’am,’ returned Mrs. Crupp. ‘Cigars and pipes.’ ‘That’s nt catchig, Trot, at any rate,’ remarked my aunt, turnig to me ‘No, indeed,’ said I. In short, my aunt, seeing how enraptured I was with th pre, took them for a mth, with leave to remai for twelve month wh that time was out. Mrs Crupp was to find linen, and to cok; every othr necessary was already provided; and Mrs rupp exprey intimated that she should alays yearn toards me as a son. I was to take possession th day after tomorro, and Mrs. Crupp said, thank Heave she had now found summun she uld care for! On our way back, my aunt informd me ho she confidently trusted that the lfe I was nw to lead would make me firm and self-reant, which was all I wanted. She repeated this several tim nxt day, in the interval of our arrangig for the Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 487 transmission of my cloths and boks fro Mr. Wickfid’s; relative to whic, and to all my late holiday, I wrote a log letter to Agnes, of which my aunt tok charge, as she was to leave on th uceedig day. Not to legthen the partiulars, I need only add, that she made a handsome provision for all my posble wants during my month of trial; that Sterforth, to my great disappoitmt and hers to, did not make h appearance before she went away; that I saw her safely seated in th Dover coach, exulting in th comng discomfiture of th vagrant donkeys, wth Jant at her side; and that when the coach was gone, I turned my face to th Adelphi, pondering on th old days wh I usd to roam about its subterranean arche, and on th happy change whic had brought me to the surfac Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 488 Chapter 24 MY FIRST DISSIPATION I t was a wonderfully fin thing to have that lofty castl to myself, and to fe, wh I shut my outer door, like Robinson rus, w h had got into his fortificati, and puld hi ladder up after him. It was a woderfully fi thg to walk about town with the key of my house in my poket, and to know that I could ask any fellow to come ho, and make quite sure of its beg inconveient to nobody, if it were not so to me. It was a wonderfully fin thing to let mysf i and out, and to co and go without a word to anyone, and to ring Mrs. Crupp up, gaspig, from the depths of the earth, when I wanted her—and when sh as disposed to come. All this, I say, was woderfully fi; but I must say, to, that thre were times wh it was very dreary. It was fin in the mornig, particularly in the fin mornigs. It looked a very fresh, free life, by daylght: sti fresher, and mre free, by sunght. But as the day deed, the lfe seed to go down too. I don’t know how it was; it sldom looked well by candl-light. I wanted sobody to talk to, then I md Agn I found a tredous blank, in th place of that smiling repostory of my confidece. Mrs. Crupp appeared to be a long way off. I thought about my predecesr, who had died of drik and soke; and I could have wisd he had be s good as to live, and not bother me with his deas fter two days and nghts, I felt as if I had lived there for a year, and yet I was nt an hour older, but was quite as muc tormeted Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 489 by my own youthfulness as ever. Sterforth not yet appearing, which induced me to appred that he must be il, I left th Co early on th thrd day, and walked out to Highgate. Mrs. Sterforth was very glad to s m, and said that he had gone away with one of his Oxford frieds to see another who lived near St. Aban, but that se expeted hi to return tomorrow. I was so fond of him, that I felt quite jealous of his Oxford friends. A she presd me to stay to dier, I reaied, and I beeve we talked about nothing but him al day. I told her how muc the people liked hm at Yarmuth, and what a delghtful companion he had be Mis Dartle was full of hits and mysterious questions, but took a great interest in al our procedigs there, and said, ‘Was it really thugh?’ and so forth, so often, that she got everythig out of me she wanted to know. Her appearan was xactly what I have deribed it, when I first saw her; but the society of th tw ladies was so agreabl, and came so natural to me, that I felt myself falg a littl in love with her. I could not hlp thking, several times in th course of th eveing, and particularly when I walked home at night, what deghtful company she would be in Buckingham Stret. I was takig my coffee and roll in the morning, before going to th Commons—and I may observe in th place that it is surprising h much coffe Mrs. Crupp usd, and h wak it was, cderig—w Steerforth himelf walked in, to my unbounded joy. ‘My dear Steerforth,’ cried I, ‘I began to thk I should nver se you again!’ ‘I was carried off, by force of arm,’ said Sterforth, ‘the very Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 490 nxt mrnig after I got home Why, Daiy, what a rare old bacor you are here!’ I showed him over the establihmet, not omitting the pantry, with n lttle pride, and he coded it highly. ‘I tell you what, od boy,’ h added, ‘I shal make quite a to-huse of this place, unl you give me notic to quit.’ This was a deghtful hearig. I told hi if he waited for that, he would have to wait till doomsday. ‘But you shal have some breakfast!’ said I, with my hand o th be-rope, ‘and Mrs. Crupp shal make you so fresh coffee, and I’l toast you s bac in a bacor’s Dutch-oven, that I have got here.’ ‘No, no!’ said Sterforth. ‘Don’t ring! I can’t! I am going to breakfast with one of the fel who is at the Piazza Hote, in Covet Garde.’ ‘But you’ll come back to dir?’ said I. ‘I can’t, upo my life. There’s nothing I should like better, but I must remai with thes two felws. We are al three off together tomorrow mornig.’ ‘Th brig them here to dinner,’ I returnd. ‘Do you thk they wuld come?’ ‘Oh! they wuld c fast enough,’ said Steerforth; ‘but we should innveience you. You had better come and di wth us ere.’ I wuld not by any means consent to this, for it occurred to me that I realy ought to have a little house-warmg, and that there ver could be a better opportunity. I had a new pride i my ros after his approval of th, and burnd with a desire to develop thr utmost resources. I threfore made him pro Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 491 positivey in th names of his tw friends, and we appointed six o’cock as the dinner-hour. Whe he was go, I rang for Mrs Crupp, and acquainted hr wth my desperate design. Mrs. Crupp said, in th first plac, of course it was we knn she couldn’t be expected to wait, but she knew a handy young man, who she thought could be prevaid upo to do it, and wh terms would be five shillings, and wat I pleased. I said, certainly we would have him. Next Mrs. Crupp said it was car she couldn’t be i tw plac at once (wich I felt to be reasonabl), and that ‘a young gal’ statid i the pantry with a bedro candle, thre never to desist fro washig plate, would be indispensable. I said, what would be th expense of this young female? and Mrs. Crupp said she supposed eightepen wuld neithr make me nor break me. I said I supposed not; and that was sttled. Then Mrs. Crupp said, No about the dier. It was a remarkabl itan of want of forethought on the part of the ironmger who had made Mrs. Crupp’s kitchen fireplace, that it was capabl of cokig nothing but chops and mashed potato. As to a fish-kittl, Mrs. Crupp said, we! would I oly c and look at the range? She couldn’t say fairer than that. Would I come and look at it? As I should not have bee much th iser if I had lked at it, I decled, and said, ‘Never md fish.’ But Mrs. Crupp said, Don’t say that; oysters was in, why not th? So that was settld. Mrs. Crupp th said wat she wuld remmend would be this. A pair of hot roast fos—fro th pastry-cook’s; a di of stewed beef, with vegetabl—fro th pastry-ck’s; tw littl cornr things, as a raid pie and a dish of kidnys—fro th pastrycok’s; a tart, and (if I liked) a shape of jelly—from th pastrycok’s. This, Mrs Crupp said, would leave Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 492 her at full lberty to cotrate her mid o the potatoes, and to serve up th che and celery as she could wish to see it don I acted on Mrs. Crupp’s opi, and gave the order at the pastry-cook’s mysf. Walkig along the Strand, afterwards, and obsrving a hard mttled substanc i the window of a ham and bef shop, which rebled marble, but was labed ‘Mok Turtle’, I wnt in and bought a slab of it, which I have si see reason to believe would have sufficed for fifte people. This preparation, Mrs. Crupp, after some difficulty, coted to warm up; and it shrunk so much in a liquid state, that w found it wat Sterforth cald ‘rather a tight fit’ for four. Th preparations happily completed, I bought a littl dessert i Covet Garde Market, and gave a rather exteve order at a retail wi-mrchant’s in that vicinity. Whe I came home in th afternoon, and saw the bottle draw up i a square o the pantry floor, they looked so numrous (though there were two mg, wich made Mrs. Crupp very unmfortabl), that I was absutey frightened at them. One of Sterforth’s friends was named Grainger, and th othr Markham. Thy were both very gay and lively fellow; Grainger, sthing older than Steerforth; Markham, youthful-lookig, and I should say not mre than twenty. I observed that the latter always spoke of himself indefinitely, as ‘a man’, and seldom or nver in the first perso sigular. ‘A man might get on very wel here, Mr. Cpperfied,’ said Markham—mang himf. ‘It’s not a bad situation,’ said I, ‘and th ros are really commodius.’ ‘I hope you have both brought appetites with you?’ said Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 493 Steerforth. ‘Upo my honour,’ returned Markham, ‘town se to sarpe a man’s appetite A man is hungry all day long. A man is perpetualy eatig.’ Beig a lttle ebarrasd at first, and feeg muc too young to presde, I made Steerforth take the head of the table wh dinnr was announced, and seated myself opposite to hm. Everythig was very good; we did nt spare the w; and he exerted himf so briantly to make the thing pas off wel, that thre was no paus in our festivity. I was not quite such god company during dinr as I could have wished to be, for my chair was opposte th door, and my attention was distracted by obsrving that the handy young man went out of the room very often, and that his shadow always preted itself, immediatey afterwards, on the wall of the entry, with a bottle at its muth. The ‘young gal’ likew ocasioned me some unas: not so much by negleting to was the plate, as by breakig them For beg of an inquisitive disposition, and unable to confi hersf (as her positive instructions were) to th pantry, she was cotantly perig in at us, and ctantly imaging hersf deteted; in wich bef, she several times retired upo th plate (with wich she had carefuly paved th flr), and did a great deal of destruction. The, however, were smal drawbacks, and easy forgotte en the coth was ceared, and the deert put on the table; at whic period of the entertait the handy young man was discovered to be spees. Giving him private direction to seek the soty of Mrs. Crupp, and to remve the ‘young gal’ to the basement also, I abandoned myself to enjoymt. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 494 I began, by beig singularly cherful and light-harted; all sorts of half-forgotten things to talk about, cam rushg into my mid, and made m hd forth in a mt unted manner. I laughd heartiy at my own joke, and everybody els’s; caled Steerforth to order for not pasg the win; made several engagemts to go to Oxford; announced that I meant to have a dinner-party exactly like that, once a wek, unti furthr notice; and madly tok so muc snuff out of Graiger’s box, that I was obliged to go ito the pantry, and have a private fit of sneezing ten minutes long. I went on, by passing th wi faster and faster yet, and continualy starting up with a corkscre to ope more wi, long before any was nded. I proposed Steerforth’s health. I said he was my dearest friend, the protector of my boyhood, and the companion of my pri I said I was delighted to propo h health. I said I owed him more obligatio than I culd ever repay, and held him i a higher admrati than I could ever expres I finished by saying, ‘I’ll give you Sterforth! God bls him! Hurrah!’ We gave him three tim three, and another, and a good one to fin with. I broke my glass i going round the tabl to shake hands with him, and I said (in tw wrds) ‘Sterforth— you’retheguidigstarofmyexistee.’ I wet on, by findig suddenly that somebody was in the mddl of a sog. Markham was the siger, and he sang ‘When the heart of a man is depressed with care’. He said, wh he had sung it, he would give us ‘Woan!’ I took objecti to that, and I culdn’t allow it. I said it was not a respectful way of propoing th toast, and I would nver permit that toast to be drunk in my house otherwis than as ‘The Ladi!’ I was very high with him, maiy I think becaus I saw Sterforth and Grainger laughng at me—or Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 495 at him—or at both of us He said a man was not to be dictated to I said a man was He said a man was not to be inulted, th I said he was right there—nver under my roof, where the Lares were sacred, and th law of hopitalty paramount. He said it was no derogation from a man’s dignty to cfe that I was a devil good fell I intantly proposed his health. I was smking, Sobody was smoking. We wre al smoking. and trying to suppre a risg tendey to shudder. Sterforth had made a speech about me, i the course of whic I had be affected almt to tears I returned thanks, and hoped the pret company wuld dine wth me tomorro, and th day after—each day at five o’cock, that we might enjoy the plasures of conversati and society through a long eveg. I felt called upo to propo an individual. I would give th my aunt. Miss Betsy Trotwood, the bet of her sex! Sobody was lang out of my bedroom window, refreshig hi forehead agait the cool sto of the parapet, and feeg the air upo his face. It was myself. I was addresing myself as ‘Copperfield’, and saying, ‘Why did you try to smoke? You might have known you couldn’t do it.’ Now, somebody was unsteadily cteplatig his features in the lookig-glas That was I too. I was very pale in th lookig-glass; my eye had a vacant appearance; and my hair—only my hair, nothing el—looked drunk. Sobody said to me, ‘Let us go to the theatre, Cpperfied!’ Thre was no bedro before me, but again th jingling tabl vered with glas; the lamp; Graiger on my right hand, Markham on my left, and Sterforth opposite—all stting i a mist, and a lg way off. The theatre? To be sure. The very thing. C Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 496 along! But thy must excuse me if I saw everybody out first, and turned the lamp off—in case of fire Owing to some confusion in th dark, th door was go. I was feelig for it in the widow-curtai, when Steerforth, laughig, tok me by th arm and led me out. We wnt dowstairs, o behd anthr. Near th bottom, somebody fe, and rolled dow Somebody e said it was Copperfid. I was angry at that false report, until, findig mysf on my back in the pasage, I began to think there might be s foundatio for it. very foggy night, with great rings round the lamps in the I codered strets! Thre was an indistict talk of its beg wt. it froty. Sterforth dusted me under a lamp-pot, and put my hat into shape, which somebody producd fro somewre in a most extraordiary manner, for I hadn’t had it o before. Sterforth then said, ‘You are al right, Copperfied, are you not?’ and I told hi, ‘Neverberrer.’ A man, sitting i a pigeon-hole-place, looked out of the fog, and tok money fro somebody, inquirig if I was on of th gentl paid for, and appearig rather doubtful (as I rember i the glips I had of him) whether to take the my for m or nt. Shortly afterwards, we were very high up i a very hot theatre, lookig down into a large pit, that sd to m to ske; th people with wh it was crammed were so indistict. Thre was a great stage, too, lookig very clean and sooth after the streets; and there were peopl upo it, talkig about sothing or other, but nt at al intellgibly. There was an abundance of bright lghts, and there was mus, and there were ladi down in the boxes, and I don’t kn what more. Th wh buiding looked to me as if it were learning to swim; it coducted itself in such an Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 497 unaccountabl manr, wh I tried to steady it. On sbody’s mtion, we resved to go downstairs to the dres-boxes, whre th ladies were A gentleman lounging, full dred, o a sofa, with an opera-glass in hi hand, passd before y vie, and als my own figure at full legth in a glas Then I was being usred into o of th boxes, and found myself saying something as I sat dow, and peopl about me crying ‘Silence!’ to somebody, and ladies casting idignant glances at me, and—what! yes!—Agne, sitting on the seat before m, i the sam box, wth a lady and gentleman beside her, wh I didn’t kn. I s her fac nw, better than I did then, I dare say, with its deble look of regret and wonder turned upon me ‘Agnes!’ I said, thickly, ‘Lorblsmer! Agns!’ ‘Hush! Pray!’ she anered, I could not ceive wy. ‘You disturb th company. Lok at th stage!’ I tried, on her injunction, to fix it, and to hear sthing of what was going on there, but quite in vain I looked at her agai by and by, and saw her shrink ito her corner, and put her gloved hand to her forehead. ‘Agnes!’ I said. ‘I’mafraidyou’rerwell’ ‘Yes, yes. Do nt mind me, Trotwd,’ she returned. ‘Liste! Are you going away soon?’ ‘Agoarawaysoo?’ I repeated. ‘Yes.’ I had a stupid intentin of replying that I was going to wait, to hand her dowstairs. I suppose I expressed it, someh; for after se had looked at me attetively for a lttle whe, she appeared to understand, and replied in a low to: ‘I know you wi do as I ask you, if I tell you I am very earnt in it. Go away now, Trotwd, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 498 for my sake, and ask your friends to take you ho’ Sh had s far improved me, for the tim, that though I was angry with her, I felt asamd, and with a short ‘Goori!’ (whic I itended for ‘Good night!’) got up and went away. They follwed, and I stepped at onc out of the box-door into my bedroom, where only Sterforth was with me, heping me to undres, and whre I was by turns telling him that Agnes was my sister, and adjuring hi to brig the corksre, that I might ope another bottle of win Ho somebody, lying in my bed, lay saying and doing all this over again, at cross purpo, in a feverish dream all nght—th bed a rocking sea that was never still! Ho, as that somebody slowly settld dow into myself, did I begin to parc, and fe as if my outer covering of ski were a hard board; my tongue the bottom of an empty kettle, furred with lg srvic, and burnig up over a slow fire; the palms of my hands, hot plates of mtal ich no ice could coo! But the agony of mid, the rerse, and same I felt when I became conscius next day! My horror of having committed a thousand offen I had forgotten, and which nthing could ever expiate—my rellection of that indelibl look which Agne had given me—th torturing imposbility of communating with her, nt knowing, Beast that I was, how sh cam to be in Londo, or were she stayed—my digust of the very sight of the ro were the revel had be held—my rackig head—the sl of ske, the sght of glas, the impobity of going out, or eve getting up! Oh, what a day it was! Oh, wat an eveg, wh I sat do by my fire to a bas of mutton broth, dipld all over with fat, and thought I was going Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 499 the way of my predecesr, and should suceed to hi dial story as we as to his chambers, and had half a mind to rush expre to Dover and reveal al! What an evenig, when Mrs Crupp, cog i to take away the broth-bas, produced one kidney on a ceeseplate as the entire reai of yeterday’s feast, and I was realy incld to fall upo her nankeen breast and say, in hartfet peten, ‘Oh, Mrs. Crupp, Mrs. Crupp, never mind the broke meats! I am very miserabl!’—only that I doubted, eve at that pass, if Mrs. Crupp were quite th sort of woman to confide in! Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 500 Chapter 25 GOOD AND BAD ANGELS I was going out at my door on the mornig after that deplorabl day of headac, sickne, and repentance, with an odd confusion i my mind reative to th date of my dinnr-party, as if a body of Titans had taken an ermous lever and pushed th day before yesterday some month back, w I saw a ticket-porter coming upstairs, with a letter in his hand. He was takig his tim about his errand, then; but when he saw m on the top of the staircas, lookig at him over the banters, he swung into a trot, and came up panting as if he had run hif ito a state of exhaustion. ‘T. Copperfield, Esquire,’ said th tiket-porter, toucng his hat with his little can I could scarcely lay caim to th name: I was so disturbed by th nviction that th letter came fro Agnes. Hover, I told hm I was T. Copperfield, Esquire, and he believed it, and gave me th letter, wich h said required an answer. I shut him out on th andig to wait for the anr, and went into my chambers again, in such a nervous state that I was fai to lay th letter dow on my breakfast tabl, and famarize mysf with the outside of it a little, before I could reve to break the seal I found, wh I did ope it, that it was a very kind note, containing no refere to my condition at th thatre All it said was, ‘My dear Trotwood. I am stayig at the house of papa’s aget, Mr. Waterbrook, in Ely Place, Holborn Wi you c and see m Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 501 today, at any tim you like to appot? Ever yours affectiately, AGNES.’ It tok me such a long time to write an answer at al to my satisfaction, that I don’t know what the ticket-porter can have thought, unl he thought I was learng to write I must have written half-a-doze answers at least. I began on, ‘Ho can I ever hpe, my dear Agnes, to efface fro your remembrance th disgusting impression’—thre I didn’t like it, and th I tore it up. I began another, ‘Shakepeare has obsrved, my dear Agn, how strange it i that a man should put an eny into his mouth’—that remnded m of Markham, and it got no farther. I eve tried poetry. I began on note, in a sx-syllable line, ‘Oh, do not rember’—but that asated itsf with the fifth of November, and became an absurdity. After many attempts, I wrote, ‘My dear Agnes. Your letter is like you, and what could I say of it that would be highr praise than that? I will come at four o’clock. Affectionately and sorrofully, T..’ With this miive (wich I was in twty minds at once about recallg, as soo as it was out of my hands), th ticket-porter at last departed. If the day were half as tremedous to any other professonal gentleman in Doctors’ Commons as it was to me, I sincerey believe h made some expiation for hi share in that rotten old ecclesiastical che. Althugh I left th office at half past thre, and was proling about th place of appoitmt wthin a fe utes afterwards, the appoted tim was excded by a full quarter of an hour, acrdig to the clock of St. Andre’s, Holborn, before I could muster up sufficient desperati to pull the private be-handl lt into the left-hand door-post of Mr. Waterbrook’s house Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 502 The professonal bus of Mr. Waterbrook’s establient was do on the ground-floor, and the gente bus (of whic there was a good deal) in the upper part of the buidig. I was hown into a pretty but rather close drawg-room, and there sat Agnes, netting a purs She looked so quiet and god, and reded me so strongly of my airy fresh school days at Canterbury, and the sodden, smky, stupid wretc I had be the other night, that, nobody beg by, I yided to my self-reproach and sham, and—i short, made a fo f myself. I cannot deny that I shed tears. To this hour I am undecded whthr it was upo th wh th wisest thing I could have don, or the most ridiculus ‘If it had be anyo but you, Agnes,’ said I, turning away my head, ‘I should nt have mided it half so muc But that it should have bee you wh saw me! I almost wish I had bee dead, first.’ She put her hand—its touch was lke n other hand—upo my arm for a moment; and I felt so befriended and comforted, that I could not help moving it to my lips, and gratefuly kissing it. ‘Sit dow,’ said Agnes, cherfuly. ‘Do’t be unappy, Trotwood. If you cannot cofidently trust me, whom will you trust?’ ‘Ah, Agns!’ I returnd. ‘You are my god Ange!’ She smd rather sadly, I thought, and shook her head. ‘Ye, Agnes, my god Angel! Always my god Ange!’ ‘If I were, indeed, Trotwd,’ she returned, ‘thre is oe thg that I should set my heart on very muc’ I looked at her inquirigly; but already with a foreknowledge of her meang. ‘On warng you,’ said Agne, with a steady glance, ‘against Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 503 your bad Angel’ ‘My dear Agns,’ I began, ‘if you mean Steerforth—’ ‘I do, Trotwd,’ she returned. ‘Th, Agns, you wrog h very much. He my bad Agel, or anyo’s! He, anythg but a guide, a support, and a friend to me! My dear Agnes! Now, is it not unjust, and unke you, to judge him fro what you saw of me th other night?’ ‘I do nt judge him from what I saw of you the other night,’ sh quietly replied. ‘From what, then?’ ‘From many things—trifle in themve, but they do nt s to me to be so, when they are put together. I judge hi, partly from your acunt of him, Trotwood, and your caracter, and the influence he has over you.’ Thre was always somethg in her modest voice that seed to touch a chord within m, ansrig to that sound alone It was always earnet; but when it was very earnet, as it was nw, there as a thri in it that quite subdued me. I sat lookig at hr as she cast her eye dow on her work; I sat seing still to liste to hr; and Sterforth, in spite of all my attachment to hm, darked i that tone ‘It is very bold in me,’ said Agne, looking up again, ‘wh have lived i such secusion, and can know so littl of th world, to give you my advice so confidetly, or eve to have this strong opiion But I know in what it is engendered, Trotwood,—i how true a remebrance of our having grown up together, and i how true an interest i all relating to you. It is that which makes me bold. I am certain that what I say is right. I am quite sure it is. I fe as if it wre soone els speakig to you, and nt I, wen I cauti you Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 504 that you have made a dangerous friend.’ Again I looked at her, again I listed to hr after she was silent, and again his image, thugh it was still fixed in my heart, darked. ‘I am not so unreasonable as to expect,’ said Agnes, resumng her usual tone, after a lttle whil, ‘that you wil, or that you can, at oce, change any sentiment that has beme a conviction to you; least of all a sentit that is roted in your trusting disposti You ought not hastiy to do that. I only ask you, Trotwood, if you ever think of me—I mean,’ with a quiet s, for I was going to interrupt hr, and she kn why, ‘as ofte as you think of me—to thk of what I have said. Do you forgive me for al this?’ ‘I wi forgive you, Agnes,’ I replied, ‘wh you come to do Sterforth justice, and to like him as we as I do.’ ‘Not until th?’ said Agne I saw a passing shado on her face wh I made this mention f him, but she returnd my sm, and we were again as unrerved in our mutual confidece as of old. ‘And when, Agns,’ said I, ‘wi you forgive me the othr night?’ ‘Whn I recall it,’ said Agnes. She wuld have diissed th subjet so, but I was to ful of it to allow that, and insisted on teg her ho it happened that I had disgraced myself, and what chain of accidental circumtan had had the theatre for its final lnk. It was a great relf to m to do this, and to enlarge on the obligatio that I owed to Sterforth for his care of me wh I was unable to take care of myself. ‘You must not forget,’ said Agnes, calmly changing th nversati as soo as I had concluded, ‘that you are alays to tel m, nt only when you fall into troubl, but when you fall in Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 505 lve. Who has sucded to Mis Larki, Trotwood?’ ‘No one, Agn’ ‘Someone, Trotwood,’ said Agn, laughing, and holdig up her finger. ‘No, Agnes, upo my word! Thre is a lady, certainly, at Mrs Steerforth’s house, who is very clever, and whom I like to talk to— Miss Dartle—but I don’t adore her.’ Agnes laughd again at her own pentration, and told me that if I were faithful to her in my confidece she thught she should kep a lttle register of my violet attacts, with the date, duration, and termiati of eac, like the table of the reign of the kigs and queens, i the History of England. Then she asked me if I had see Uriah. ‘Uriah Heep?’ said I. ‘No Is he in Lodo?’ ‘He c to the offic dotairs, every day,’ returned Agn ‘He was in Lodo a week before m. I am afraid on diagreeabl bus, Trotwood.’ ‘On some busine that makes you unasy, Agnes, I se,’ said I. ‘What can that be?’ Agn laid asde her work, and repld, foldig her hands upo one another, and lookig pevely at me out of those beautiful sft eyes of hers: ‘I beve he is going to enter into partnership with papa.’ ‘What? Uriah? That mean, fawning fellow, worm hielf into such protion!’ I cried, indignantly. ‘Have you made no remonstrance about it, Agnes? Consider what a connexi it is lkey to be You must speak out. You must not alw your father to take such a mad step. You must prevet it, Agnes, wh thre’s tim’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 506 Stil lookig at me, Agn shook her head while I was speakig, with a fait sm at my warmth: and then repld: ‘You remeber our last coversation about papa? It was not lg after that—not more than two or three days—when he gave m the first itimatio of what I tell you. It was sad to se him trugglig betwee his dere to repret it to me as a matter of choice o his part, and hi inability to conceal that it was forcd upo hi I felt very sorry.’ ‘Forced upo him, Agn! Who forces it upon him?’ ‘Uriah,’ she replied, after a moment’s hesitati, ‘has made hmself indispesabl to papa. He is subtle and watcful. He has astered papa’s weakn, fostered them, and take advantage of them, until—to say all that I man in a word, Trotwood,—until papa is afraid of hi’ There was mre that s might have said; more that sh kn, or that she suspected; I carly saw I could not give her pain by asking what it was, for I kn that she withld it fro me, to pare her father. It had log be going on to this, I was sebl: yes, I could not but fee, on the last refletion, that it had be going on to this for a lg tim I remaid st. ‘His ascendancy over papa,’ said Agnes, ‘is very great. He professes humlity and gratitude—wth truth, perhaps: I hope so— but his posti is really on of powr, and I fear h makes a hard us of his powr.’ I said he was a hound, wich, at th moment, was a great satisfacti to me. ‘At the tim I speak of, as the tim when papa spoke to me,’ pursued Agn, ‘h had told papa that he was going away; that he was very srry, and unwillg to leave, but that he had better Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 507 prospects. Papa was very much depressed th, and more bod do by care than ever you or I have se hi; but h sd reeved by th expedient of the partnrsp, though at the sam time he seemed hurt by it and asamed of it.’ ‘And ho did you receive it, Agnes?’ ‘I did, Trotwood,’ se repld, ‘what I hope was right. Feg sure that it was necessary for papa’s peace that th sacrifi hould be made, I etreated hi to make it. I said it would lghten the load of his life—I hope it wil!—and that it would give m increased opportunities of beg his companion. Oh, Trotwd!’ cried Agnes, putting her hands before her face, as her tears started o it, ‘I almost fe as if I had be papa’s eny, instead of h ving cd. For I know how he has altered, in his devotion to me I know how he has narrowed the circe of his sympathi and duties, in the concentrati of his whole md upo me I know what a multitude of things he has shut out for my sake, and how hi anxious thoughts of me have shadowed his life, and weakened hi strength and enrgy, by turnig them always upon on idea. If I could ever set this right! If I could ever wrk out his restoration, as I have so innocently be th caus of hi decli!’ I had never before se Agnes cry. I had se tears in her eye when I had brought new honours home from shool, and I had seen them there wen w last spoke about her father, and I had seen her turn her gentl head asde when we took lave of one another; but I had never se her grieve like this It made me s sorry that I could only say, in a foish, helpless manr, ‘Pray, Agnes, don’t! Don’t, my dear sister!’ But Agnes was to superir to me i character and purpo, as I know well nw, whatever I might know or not know then, to be Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 508 lg in need of my entreati. The beautiful, cal maner, w ake her so differet in my rebrane from everybody els, came back again, as if a cloud had passd fro a sere sky. ‘We are not likely to remain alon much longer,’ said Agnes, ‘and we I have an opportunity, let me earntly entreat you, Trotwood, to be friendly to Uriah. Do’t repel him Do’t rest (as I thk you have a geral dispoition to do) what may be unngeial to you in him. He may not deserve it, for we know no certain ill of him. In any case, think first of papa and me!’ Agn had n tim to say more, for the room door opened, and Mrs. Waterbrook, who was a large lady—or who wore a large dres: I don’t exactly kn which, for I don’t kn wich was dres and which was lady—cam saig in. I had a dim reti of havig seen her at the theatre, as if I had seen her in a pale magi lantern; but she appeared to remember m perfetly, and sti to suspect me of being in a state of intoxiati Fidig by degrees, however, that I was sber, and (I hope) that I was a modet young gentlan, Mrs. Waterbrook sftend toards me considerably, and iquired, firstly, if I wnt much ito th parks, and secondly, if I went much into socty. On my replying to both thes questions in the negative, it occurred to m that I fell again in her god opiion; but she concealed th fact gracefully, and invited me to dinnr next day. I acpted th invitati, and tok my leave, making a call on Uriah in th office as I went out, and leaving a card for him in his absence. When I wet to dier next day, and on the street door beg opened, plunged into a vapour-bath of haunch of mutton, I divind that I was not the only guest, for I imdiatey idetified the ticket-porter in disguise, assistig th family servant, and waitig Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 509 at the foot of the stairs to carry up my name. He loked, to the best of his ability, w h asked me for it confidentially, as if he had never se me before; but w did I know hi, and well did he know me. Conscience made cowards of us both I found Mr. Waterbrook to be a middl-aged gentlan, with a short throat, and a good deal of shrt-coar, who only wanted a black no to be the portrait of a pug-dog. He told me he was happy to have the honour of makig my acquaitan; and when I had paid my homage to Mrs. Waterbrook, presented me, with much ceremony, to a very awful lady in a black velvet dres, and a great black velvet hat, whom I remeber as lookig like a near reati of Hamet’s—say his aunt. Mrs. Henry Spiker was th lady’s name; and hr husband was there too: so cod a man, that his head, intead of beg grey, seemed to be sprikld with hoar-frost. Imme deferee was shon to th Henry Spikers, male and feale; which Agnes tod me was o account of Mr. Henry Spiker beg solicitor to something Or to Somebody, I forget what or which, remotely cted with the Treasury. I found Uriah Hep among th company, in a suit of black, and i dep humity. He told me, when I shook hands with hi, that h was proud to be noticed by me, and that h really felt obliged to me for my condescension. I could have wshed h had be less oblged to me, for he hovered about me in his gratitude al the rest of the evenig; and whenever I said a word to Agn, was sure, wth his shadowless eye and cadaverous face, to be looking gauntly down upon us from bed. There were other guests—al id for the occas, as it struck m, like the wine But there was one who attracted my attenti Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 510 before he cam in, on acunt of my hearig him anunced as Mr. Traddles! My mind fl back to Salem Hous; and could it be Tommy, I thought, who used to draw the sketons! I looked for Mr. Traddl with unusual interest. He was a sober, steady-lookig young man of retiring manrs, with a co head of hair, and eye that were rather wide ope; and he got into an obscure cornr so soo, that I had some difficulty in making h ut. At length I had a god vi of him, and eithr my vision deceived me, or it was th old unfortunate Tommy. I made my way to Mr. Waterbrok, and said, that I belved I had the plasure of seg an old shoolfellow there. ‘Inded!’ said Mr. Waterbrook, surprisd. ‘You are too young to have been at school with Mr. Henry Spiker?’ ‘Oh, I don’t mean him!’ I returnd. ‘I mean th gentleman named Traddles.’ ‘Oh! Aye, aye! Indeed!’ said my hot, with much diminished interest. ‘Pobly.’ ‘If it’s really th same pers,’ said I, glancing toards hm, ‘it was at a place cald Sal House where we were together, and he was an excellent fe’ ‘Oh yes. Traddl is a good felw,’ returned my host nddig hi head with an air of toleratio ‘Traddl is quite a good fellow.’ ‘It’s a curius coiciden,’ said I. ‘It is really,’ returnd my hot, ‘quite a coincidence, that Traddl shuld be here at al: as Traddl was ony invited th rng, when the place at table, iteded to be occupid by Mrs Henry Spiker’s brothr, became vacant, in consequence of hi indisposti. A very gentlemany man, Mrs. Henry Spiker’s brother, Mr. Copperfied.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 511 I murmured an assent, which was ful of feing, considerig that I kn nthing at all about him; and I inquired what Mr. Traddles was by profe ‘Traddl,’ returned Mr. Waterbrook, ‘i a young man readig for the bar. Yes. He is quite a god fel—nbody’s eney but hi own.’ ‘Is he his ow eny?’ said I, sorry to hear this. ‘We,’ returned Mr. Waterbrook, pursig up his mouth, and playig with his watc-chain, in a comfortabl, properous sort of way. ‘I should say he was one of those me who stand i their own lght. Yes, I should say he would nver, for example, be worth five hundred pound. Traddl was reded to me by a professional friend. Oh yes. Yes. He has a kind of talent for drawing briefs, and statig a case in writing, plainy. I am able to throw sothing in Traddl’s way, i the course of the year; something—for him—cosiderable. Oh ye Yes.’ I was much impressed by th extrey comfortabl and satisfied manr i wich Mr. Waterbrok delivered himself of th lttle wrd ‘Yes’, every no and then. There was woderful expression i it. It completely conveyed th idea of a man wh had be born, nt to say with a siver spo, but with a scalg-ladder, and had gon on munting al the heights of life one after another, until nw he looked, from the top of the fortifiations, with the eye of a phopher and a patron, on the peopl down in the trenc My reflections on th theme wre sti in progre wen dier was annund. Mr. Waterbrook went down with Hamt’s aunt. Mr. Henry Spiker took Mrs. Waterbrook. Agn, whom I should have liked to take mysf, was given to a siperig fellow with weak lgs. Uriah, Traddl, and I, as the junior part of the Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 512 company, went dow last, ho we could. I was not so vexed at losing Agnes as I might have be, since it gave me an opportunity of makig mysf known to Traddl on the stairs, who greeted me with great fervour; whil Uriah writhed with suc obtrusive satisfacti and self-abasement, that I could gladly have pitched hm over th banisters. Traddles and I were separated at tabl, beg bited i two remte crners: he in the glare of a red velvet lady; I, i th gl of Hamlet’s aunt. Th dinner was very long, and th conversati was about th Aristoracy—and Bld. Mrs Waterbrok repeatedly tod us, that if she had a weakness, it was Blood. It occurred to me several tim that we should have got on better, if we had nt be quite so gente We were so excdigly gente, that our scope was very limited. A Mr. and Mrs. Gulpidge re of th party, w had something to do at secod-hand (at last, Mr. Gulpidge had) with the law bus of the Bank; and what with the Bank, and what with the Treasury, we were as exclusive as the Court Circular. To med the matter, Hamet’s aunt had th famly faig of indulgig in soliloquy, and held forth in a desultory mannr, by hersf, on every topic that was troduced. Thes were few enough, to be sure; but as we always fell back upo Bld, she had as wide a fid for abstract speculati as her nephe hif. We might have bee a party of Ogres, the coversatio assumed such a sangui complexi ‘I cfe I am of Mrs. Waterbrook’s opi,’ said Mr. Waterbrok, wth his wi-glass at his eye ‘Othr things are all very wel in their way, but give m Blood!’ ‘Oh! There is nothg,’ obsrved Hamet’s aunt, ‘s satisfactory Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 513 beau-ideal of—of al to on! Thre is nothing that is so much on’s that sort of thing, speakig genrally. There are s lw mnds (not many, I am happy to beeve, but there are some) that would prefer to do what I should call bow dow before idols. Potively Idols! Before service, intellect, and so on. But th are itangible points. Bld is not so. We see Bld in a nse, and we kn it. We meet with it in a chi, and we say, “Thre it is! That’s Bld!” It is an actual matter of fact. We pot it out. It admts of no doubt.’ Th simpering fe with th weak legs, w had taken Agne down, stated the question more devey yet, I thought. ‘Oh, you kn, deuce take it,’ said this getlan, lking round the board with an ibe sm, ‘w can’t forego Blood, you know. We must have Blood, you know. So young fellows, you know, may be a littl bend thr station, perhaps, in poit of educati and behaviour, and may go a little wrong, you know, and get themve and other peopl ito a variety of fixes—and al that—but deuc take it, it’s delightful to reflet that they’ve got Bld in ’em! Myself, I’d rathr at any time be knoked dow by a man who had got Blood in him, than I’d be piked up by a man who hadn’t!’ This stit, as cpresg the genral questio into a nutshel, gave the utmot satisfactio, and brought the gentlan to great notic until the ladi retired. After that, I observed that Mr. Gulpidge and Mr. Henry Spiker, who had hitherto be very distant, entered into a defensive alliance against us, th common enemy, and exchanged a mysterius dialogue acro the table for our defeat and overthro ‘That affair of the first bod for four thousand five hundred pounds has not taken th course that was expected, Spiker,’ said Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 514 Mr. Gulpidge. ‘Do you mean the D. of A.’s?’ said Mr. Spiker. ‘Th C. of B.’s!’ said Mr. Gulpidge Mr. Spiker raised his eyebro, and looked much concerned. ‘When the question was referred to Lord—I nedn’t nam hi,’ said Mr. Gulpidge, cheking himself— ‘I understand,’ said Mr. Spiker, ‘N.’ Mr. Gulpidge darkly nodded—‘was referred to him, hi answer was, “Moey, or no rease.”’ ‘Lord bls my soul!’ cried Mr. Spiker. “‘Moey, or n rease,”’ repeated Mr. Gulpidge, firmy. ‘Th xt in reversi—you understand me?’ ‘K.,’ said Mr. Spiker, with an omus lk. ‘—K. then potively refused to sign He was attended at Newarket for that purpo, and he point-blank refused to do it.’ Mr. Spiker was so interested, that he beame quite stoy. ‘So th matter rests at this hour,’ said Mr. Gulpidge, throng hmself back in his chair. ‘Our friend Waterbrok wi excus me if I forbear to explai mysf genrally, on accunt of the magnitude f th interests involved.’ Mr. Waterbrook was only too happy, as it appeared to m, to have such interests, and such names, eve hnted at, across h tabl He assumed an expression of gly inteige (thugh I am persuaded he kn no more about th discussion than I did), and highly approved of th discretion that had be observed. Mr. Spiker, after th receipt of such a confidence, naturally desired to favour his friend with a confidence of hi own; threfore th foregoing dialgue was succeeded by anothr, in which it was Mr. Gulpidge’s turn to be surprised, and that by anthr in wich th Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 515 surpris cam round to Mr. Spiker’s turn agai, and s o, turn and turn about. All this tim we, the outsiders, remaid oppressed by th tredous interests involved in th nversati; and our hot regarded us with pride, as th victi of a salutary aw and astonist. I was very glad inded to get upstairs to Agn, and to talk with her i a crnr, and to itroduce Traddl to her, who was shy, but agreeabl, and the same god-natured creature sti As he was oblged to leave early, on acunt of going away next morng for a moth, I had nt nearly so much conversati with him as I could have wished; but w exchanged addresses, and proised oursve th pleasure of another meeting when he should co back to town. He was greatly iterested to hear that I kn Sterforth, and spoke of him with suc warmth that I made him tel Agn what he thought of hi But Agn only looked at m the while, and very slghtly shook her head when ony I obsrved her. As she was not among people with wh I believed she could be very muc at ho, I was alt glad to hear that s was going away within a fe days, thugh I was sorry at th propect of parting from her agai s soon. This caused me to remai until al the cpany were gone Coversg with her, and hearig her sing, was such a delightful reder to me of my happy life in th grave old house she had made so beautiful, that I could have remaid there half the night; but, having no excus for stayig any lger, when the lights of Mr. Waterbrook’s sty were al snuffed out, I tok my leave very much against my iation. I felt then, mre than ever, that sh was my better Ange; and if I thought of her sweet fac and placd se, as though they had shone on m from so removed beg, like an Angel, I hope I Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 516 thought no harm. I have said that the copany were all gone; but I ought to have excepted Uriah, whom I do’t inude in that denomination, and who had nver cased to hover near us. He was close bed m when I went downstairs. He was close bede me, when I walked away fro th huse, slowly fitting his long sketo fingers into the sti lger fingers of a great Guy Fawke pair of gloves It was in no disposition for Uriah’s company, but i remembran of th etreaty Agnes had made to me, that I asked hi if he would co hom to my rooms, and have so coffee. ‘Oh, realy, Master Copperfield,’ he rejoind—‘I beg your pardo, Mister Copperfield, but th othr comes so natural, I don’t like that you should put a constraint upo yourself to ask a numble pers like me to your ouse’ ‘Thre is no constraint in th case,’ said I. ‘Will you come?’ ‘I should lke to, very much,’ replied Uriah, with a writh ‘Well, then, come alg!’ said I. I could nt help beg rather short with him, but he appeared nt to mind it. We went the nearet way, without coversg muc upon the road; and he was so humbl in respect of those scarecro glve, that he was still putting th o, and sed to ave made no advane in that labour, when we got to my place. I led him up th dark stairs, to prevet his knking hs had against anythng, and really his damp cold hand felt so like a frog in mine, that I was tempted to drop it and run away. Agnes and hspitality prevailed, hover, and I conducted him to my firede. Wh I lghted my candl, he fel ito mek tranports with the room that was revealed to him; and when I heated the cffee i an unassuming blk-tin vessel in which Mrs. Crupp delighted to Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 517 prepare it (cefly, I beeve, beause it was nt iteded for th purpo, being a shavig-pot, and becaus thre was a patent invention of great price mouldering away in th pantry), h professed so much emtion, that I could joyfully have scalded him. ‘Oh, really, Master Copperfield,—I mean Mister Cpperfield,’ said Uriah, ‘to see you waiting upo me is what I never could have xpected! But, on way and anthr, so many things happen to me wich I never could have expected, I am sure, in my umbl station, that it sees to rai blsings on my ed. You have hard something, I des-say, of a change in my expectations, Master Cpperfield,—I should say, Mister Copperfield?’ As he sat on my sofa, with hi long knees drawn up under hi ffee-cup, hi hat and gloves upo the ground close to him, his spoo gog softly round and round, his shadowless red eye, wich looked as if thy had scorcd thr lashe off, turnd towards me without lookig at me, the diagreeable dits I have formrly described in his nostrils coming and gog with h breath, and a snaky undulati pervading his frame fro his chin to his boots, I decided i my own mind that I disliked hi tensey. It made m very uncfortabl to have him for a guest, for I was young then, and unused to diguis what I so strongly felt. ‘You have heard sothing, I de-say, of a change in my expectation, Master Copperfield,—I should say, Mister Cpperfield?’ observed Uriah. ‘Yes,’ said I, ‘somethg.’ ‘Ah! I thught Miss Agnes would know of it!’ h quietly returned. ‘I’m glad to find Mi Agns kns of it. Oh, thank you, Master—Mister Copperfield!’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 518 I culd have thrown my bootjack at him (it lay ready on the rug), for having etrapped me into the diure of anything concernng Agne, hover immaterial. But I oly drank my cffee. ‘What a prophet you have shown yoursef, Mister Copperfied!’ pursued Uriah. ‘Dear m, what a prophet you have proved yoursef to be! Do’t you rember saying to me once, that perhaps I should be a partner in Mr. Wickfid’s business, and You may nt rect it; perhaps it might be Wickfid and Hep? but when a person i umble, Master Copperfield, a person treasures such things up!’ ‘I rellect talkig about it,’ said I, ‘thugh I certainly did not thk it very likey then.’ ‘Oh! who would have thught it likely, Mister Copperfield!’ returnd Uriah, ethusiasticaly. ‘I am sure I didn’t myself. I rellect saying with my ow lips that I was much to umbl So I considered myself really and truly.’ He sat, with that carved grin on his face, lookig at the fire, as I looked at hi ‘But th umblt perss, Master Copperfield,’ he pretly resumd, ‘may be the intrumets of good. I am glad to think I have been the itrumet of good to Mr. Wikfield, and that I may be more so. Oh what a worthy man he is, Mister Copperfield, but how imprudent he has been!’ ‘I am sorry to hear it,’ said I. I could not hep adding, rathr pointedly, ‘on all accounts.’ ‘Decidedly so, Mister Copperfield,’ replied Uriah ‘On all accounts Mi Agnes’s above all! You don’t remember your ow I rember how quent expres, Master Copperfield; but Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 519 you said on day that everybody must admre her, and how I thanked you for it! You have forgot that, I have no doubt, Master Cpperfield?’ ‘No,’ said I, driy. ‘Oh how glad I am you have not!’ exclaid Uriah. ‘To think that you should be the first to kidl the sparks of ambitio i my umble breast, and that you’ve not forgot it! Oh!—Would you excuse me asking for a cup more coffe?’ Sothing i the ephas he laid upon the kidlg of those sparks, and somethg in th glance he directed at me as he said it, had made me start as if I had se hm illuminated by a blaze of lght. Realld by hi request, preferred in quite another tone of voic, I did the honours of the shavig-pot; but I did them with an unsteadiss of hand, a sudden sense of beig no matc for him, and a perplxed suspius anxiety as to what he might be going to say next, which I felt could not escape his observation He said nothg at al He stirred his coffe round and round, h sipped it, h felt his chi softly with his grily hand, he looked at the fire, he looked about the room, he gasped rather than sd at me, he writhd and undulated about, in his deferential servility, h stirred and sipped again, but he left th real of th nversati to me. ‘So, Mr. Wikfied,’ said I, at last, ‘who i worth five hundred of you—or me’; for my life, I thk, I could not have helped dividing that part of th sentece with an awkward jerk; ‘has bee imprudet, has he, Mr. Hep?’ ‘Oh, very imprudet indeed, Master Cpperfield,’ returnd Uriah, sighing modestly. ‘Oh, very much so! But I wish you’d cal me Uriah, if you please. It’s like old times.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 520 ‘Well! Uriah,’ said I, bolting it out with some difficulty. ‘Thank you,’ he returned, with fervour. ‘Thank you, Master Copperfid! It’s lke the blowig of old breezes or the rigig of you say Uriah I beg your pardo. Was I making od bes to hear any observation?’ ‘About Mr. Wickfield,’ I suggested. ‘Oh! Yes, truly,’ said Uriah. ‘Ah! Great imprudece, Master Cpperfield. It’s a topic that I wouldn’t touc upo, to any soul but you. Even to you I can only touch upon it, and no mre. If anyo els had been i my place durig the last few years, by th ti he would have had Mr. Wikfied (oh, what a worthy man he i, Master Copperfield, to!) under h thumb. Un—der—his thumb,’ said Uriah, very slowly, as he stretcd out his cruel-lookig hand above my table, and pred hi own thumb upon it, until it shook, and shook the room. If I had be obliged to lok at him with hi splay foot on Mr. Wickfid’s head, I think I could scarcely have hated him more ‘Oh, dear, yes, Master Copperfield,’ he proded, in a soft voic, mot remarkably cotrastig with the action of hi thumb, wich did not diminish its hard pressure in th least degre, ‘thre’s no doubt of it. Thre would have be loss, disgrac, I don’t kn what at all. Mr. Wickfid knows it. I am th umbl instrument of umbly serving him, and he puts me on an emce I hardly could have hoped to reach. How thankful should I be!’ With his face turned towards me, as he finisd, but without lookig at me, he took his crooked thumb off the spot where he had planted it, and slowly and thoughtfully scraped hi lank jaw th it, as if he were shavig hielf. I recot well how indignantly my heart beat, as I saw his Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 521 crafty fac, with the appropriatey red lght of the fire upon it, preparig for something el ‘Master Copperfield,’ he began—‘but am I keeping you up?’ ‘You are not kepig m up. I genrally go to bed late.’ ‘Thank you, Master Copperfield! I have rin fro my umbl station s first you usd to addres me, it is true; but I am umble sti I hope I nver shal be otherwe than umble. You wi not think th wors of my umbls, if I make a littl confidece to you, Master Copperfield? Wi you?’ ‘Oh no,’ said I, with an effort. ‘Thank you!’ He tok out his pocket-handkerchief, and began iping th pals of hi hands. ‘Miss Agnes, Master Copperfield—’ ‘Well, Uriah?’ ‘Oh, ho pleasant to be called Uriah, spontaneusly!’ he cried; and gave himelf a jerk, lke a cvulsve fis ‘You thought her lookig very beautiful tonight, Master Copperfield?’ ‘I thought her lookig as she alays do: superior, in al respects, to everyo around her,’ I returnd. ‘Oh, thank you! It’s so true!’ he crid. ‘Oh, thank you very muc for that!’ ‘Not at al,’ I said, loftily. ‘There is no reason why you should thank me.’ ‘Why that, Master Copperfield,’ said Uriah, ‘is, in fact, th fide that I am going to take the liberty of repog. Umble as I am,’ he wiped his hands harder, and looked at th and at th fire by turns, ’umble as my mothr is, and lowy as our poor but honest roof has ever been, the image of Mi Agn (I do’t mid trusting you wth my secret, Master Copperfield, for I have alays verfld toards you since th first moment I had th pleasure Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 522 of beding you in a pony-say) has be in my breast for years. Oh, Master Copperfid, with what a pure affection do I love th ground my Agnes walks on!’ I believe I had a delirious idea of sezig the red-hot poker out of the fire, and rung him through with it. It went from me with a shok, like a bal fired fro a rifl: but th image of Agne, outraged by so muc as a thought of this red-headed anial’s, remaind in my mind wh I looked at him, sitting all awry as if his mean soul griped his body, and made me giddy. He sed to ell and grow before my eyes; the room seemed full of the echoes of his voice; and th strange feing (to which, perhaps, no o is quite a stranger) that all this had ocurred before, at some idefite tim, and that I kn what he was going to say next, tok possession of me. A timely observation of th sen of powr that thre was in h fac, did mre to brig back to my rembrance the entreaty of Agnes, in its ful forc, than any effort I could have made. I asked hm, with a better appearance of composure than I could have thught possible a minute before, wthr h had made h feings knn to Agnes. ‘Oh no, Master Cpperfield!’ he returnd; ‘oh dear, no! Not to anyo but you. You see I am only just emrging fro my lowy stati I rest a good deal of hope on her observing how useful I am to her father (for I trust to be very useful to hi ided, Master Copperfield), and how I smooth the way for him, and kep hi straight. She’s so much attached to her fathr, Master Copperfield (o, what a lovely thing it is in a daughter!), that I think she may come, on his account, to be kid to me.’ I fathomed the depth of the rasal’s whole scheme, and Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 523 understood why he laid it bare. ‘If you’ll have the goodn to kep my sret, Master Cpperfield,’ he pursued, ‘and not, in genral, to go against me, I shall take it as a particular favour. You wouldn’t wish to make unpleasantness. I kn what a friendly hart you’ve got; but having only known me on my umble footing (on my umblest I should say, for I am very umbl sti), you mght, unbeknown, go against me rathr, with my Agnes. I cal hr mine, you se, Master Cpperfield. Thre’s a song that says, “I’d crons resign, to call her mi!” I hope to do it, one of these days.’ Dear Agnes! So much to loving and to god for anyo that I could thk of, was it posble that she was rerved to be th wife f such a wretch as th! ‘Thre’s no hurry at pret, you know, Master Cpperfield,’ Uriah proded, i hs simy way, as I sat gazing at him, with this thought in my mind. ‘My Agn is very young sti; and mther and m will have to work our way upwards, and make a good many n arrangements, before it would be quite covenit. So I sal ave time gradualy to make her familiar with my hpe, as opportunities offer. Oh, I’m so much oblged to you for this confidence! Oh, it’s such a relief, you can’t think, to know that you understand our stuation, and are certain (as you wouldn’t wish to make unplasantness in th family) not to go against me!’ He took the hand whic I dared not withhold, and having given it a damp squeze, referred to his pale-faced watc ‘Dear me!’ he said, ‘it’s past on Th moments slip away so, i th confidence of old times, Master Cpperfield, that it’s almost half past one!’ I anred that I had thought it was later. Not that I had really Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 524 thught so, but becaus my conversatial powrs wre effectualy scattered. ‘Dear me!’ he said, considering. ‘Th ouse that I am stopping at—a sort of a private hote and boarding ouse, Master Cpperfield, near the New River ed—w have gone to bed thes two hours.’ ‘I am sorry,’ I returned, ‘that there is ony oe bed hre, and that I—’ ‘Oh, don’t think of mentioning beds, Master Copperfield!’ he would you have any rejod estatically, drawig up on leg. ‘But objections to my laying dow before th fire?’ ‘If it comes to that,’ I said, ‘pray take my bed, and I’ll lie dow before the fire.’ His repudiation of this offer was almost shri enugh, in th xcess of its surprise and humility, to have penetrated to th ears f Mrs. Crupp, th slping, I suppose, in a distant chamber, stuated at about the level of lw-water mark, soothed in her slumbers by th ticking of an inrrigibl clk, to which she always referred me wh we had any littl differe on th sre f punctuality, and which was never less than thre-quarters of an hour too slow, and had always be put right in the morng by th best authrities. As no arguments I could urge, i my bedered condition, had th least effect upo his modesty i inducing hm to accept my bedro, I was oblged to make th bet arrangets I could, for his repo before the fire. The mattress of th sofa (wich was a great deal to short for his lank figure), the sofa piws, a blanket, the tabl-cver, a can breakfast-cloth, and a great-coat, made hm a bed and covering, for which he was more than thankful. Having lent h a night-cap, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 525 wich h put o at once, and in which he made such an awful figure, that I have never worn one sin, I left hi to his rest. I never shall forget that night. I never shall forget h I turnd and tumbled; ho I wearied myself with thking about Agnes and this creature; h I considered what could I do, and what ought I to do; how I could co to no other cous than that the bet curse for her peac was to do nthing, and to kep to mysf what I had heard. If I went to sleep for a fe moments, th iage of Agn with her tender eyes, and of her father lookig fondly on her, as I had s often seen hi look, arose before me with appealg face, and fild me with vague terrors. Wh I awoke, th rellection that Uriah was lyig in th next ro, sat heavy o me like a waking nightmare; and oppressed me with a leaden dread, as if I had had some meanr quality of devil for a lodger. The poker got into my dozig thoughts bede, and wouldn’t c out. I thought, betwee slpig and wakig, that it was sti red hot, and I had snatced it out of the fire, and run him through the body. I was s haunted at last by the idea, though I kn there as nothing in it, that I sto into th next ro to look at him. There I saw him, lyig on his back, with his lgs extendig to I do’t know where, gurgligs takig plac in his throat, stoppages in hi nose, and his mouth ope like a post-office. He was so much worse in realty than in my ditepered fancy, that afterwards I was attracted to him in very repulsion, and could not hlp wandering in and out every half-hour or so, and takig another look at him. Sti, th long, long night seed heavy and hpe as ever, and no proise of day was in th murky sky. Whe I saw hm going dowstairs early in th morning (for, thank Heave! he would not stay to breakfast), it appeared to me Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 526 as if the nght was going away in his person. Wh I went out to th Cmmons, I charged Mrs. Crupp with particular directions to ave the windows ope, that my stting-room mght be aired, and purged of his prece. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 527 Chapter 26 I FALL INTO CAPTIVITY I saw no more of Uriah Hep, until th day wh Agnes left to I was at th coach office to take leave of her and see her go; and there was he, returnig to Canterbury by the sam nveyance. It was some smal satisfacti to me to observe h pare, short-waited, high-shouldered, mulberry-coloured greatcoat percd up, in company with an umbrea like a sal tet, o th edge of th back seat on th rof, while Agnes was, of course, inside; but what I underwt in my efforts to be friendly with hm, wile Agnes looked o, perhaps derved that littl rempen t the coach window, as at the dinner-party, he hovered about us without a mot’s itermi, lke a great vulture: gorging hmself on every syllable that I said to Agnes, or Agnes said to me. In th state of troubl into which his disclosure by my fire had thrown me, I had thought very muc of the words Agn had used i referen to the partnership. ‘I did what I hope was right. Feing sure that it was necessary for papa’s peace that th sacrifi should be made, I entreated him to make it.’ A miserabl foreboding that she would yid to, and sustain hrsf by, th am feg in refere to any sacrifice for h sake, had oppresd me ever sie. I knew how she loved him I knew what the devotion of her nature was I knew from her own lips that s regarded hersef as the it cause of his errors, and as owing hm a great debt she ardently desred to pay. I had no consolation in seeng ho different she was fro this detestable Rufus wth Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 528 the mulberry-coloured great-coat, for I felt that in the very difference betw th, in th self-deial of her pure soul and th sordid base of his, th greatest danger lay. All this, doubtles, he knew thoroughly, and had, i his cung, cdered we Yet I was so certain that th propect of such a sacrifice afar off, must destroy th happine of Agnes; and I was so sure, fro hr manner, of its beg un by hr th, and having cast no sadow on her yet; that I culd as soon have injured her, as given her any warnig of what impended. Thus it was that we parted wthut explanation: she waving her hand and smiling fare from the coach window; her evil genius writhig on the roof, as if h had her in his clutche and triumphed. I could nt get over this farewel glimps of them for a log time. Whe Agnes wrote to tell me of hr safe arrival, I was as mrable as when I saw her gog away. Whenever I fel ito a thughtful state, this subjet was sure to pret itself, and all my unasss was sure to be redoubled. Hardly a night passed wthut my dreaming of it. It became a part of my life, and as inseparabl fro my life as my own head. I had ampl leisure to refi upo my unasiness: for Steerforth was at Oxford, as he wrote to me, and wen I was not at the Comm, I was very muc ale. I beeve I had at th ti some lurking distrust of Sterforth I wrote to him most affectinately i reply to hi, but I think I was glad, upon the w, that he could not come to London just th. I suspect th truth to be, that th influence of Agnes was upo me, undisturbed by th sight of hm; and that it was th more powrful with me, becaus she had so large a share in my thughts and interest. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 529 In th meantime, days and weks slipped away. I was articled to Spenlow and Jorkis. I had ninety pounds a year (exclusve of my huse-ret and sundry coateral matters) fro my aunt. My rooms were egaged for twelve mths certai: and though I sti found them dreary of an eveg, and the evenigs log, I could settl dow into a state of equabl low spirits, and resign myself to ffee; whic I se, on lookig back, to have take by the gal at about this period of my exiten At about this tim, too, I made thre discoveri: first, that Mrs. Crupp was a martyr to a curius disorder called ‘th spazzums’, which was geraly accompanied with inflamati of th nose, and required to be nstantly treated with peppermint; secondly, that somethg peular in the teperature of my pantry, made the brandy-bottl burst; thirdly, that I was alone i the world, and muc given to rerd that circumstan in fragments of English versificati On th day wh I was artid, no festivity tok place, beyod my having sandwiche and sherry into th office for th clerks, and going alone to the theatre at night. I went to s The Stranger, as a Doctors’ Cos sort of play, and was so dreadfully cut up, that I hardly knew mysf in my own glas when I got home. Mr. Spenlow remarked, on this occasi, wh we conluded our bus, that he should have be happy to have seen me at hi house at Norwood to cebrate our beg connected, but for his domestic arrangets beg in some disorder, o account of th expected return of his daughter fro finishing her education at Paris But, he itimated that when se cam home he should hope to have the pleasure of entertaig me I knew that he was a wdowr with on daughter, and expred my acknledgets Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 530 Mr. Spenlow was as good as his word. In a week or two, he referred to this engagement, and said, that if I would do hm th favour to come dow next Saturday, and stay till Monday, he would do him th uld be extrey happy. Of course I said I favour; and he was to drive me dow in his phaeton, and to bring me back. Wh the day arrived, my very carpet-bag was an objet of venration to the stipediary crks, to whom the house at Norwood was a sacred mystery. One of them iformed me that he had heard that Mr. Spenlow ate entirely off plate and china; and another hinted at champagne beg cotantly on draught, after the usual custom of table-beer. The old clerk with the wig, whose name was Mr. Tiffey, had bee dow o bus several times i th course of his carer, and had on each oasion penetrated to th breakfast-parlur. He described it as an apartmt of th most sumptuous nature, and said that he had drunk bron East India sherry thre, of a quality so precious as to make a man wk. We had an adjournd cause in the Constory that day—about excounating a baker who had be objectig in a vestry to a paving-rate—and as th evidence was just twice th length of Robinson Crus, accordig to a calulation I made, it was rathr late in the day before we find. However, we got hi xcommunicated for six weks, and senteced in no end of costs; and then the baker’s proctor, and the judge, and the advocates o both side (who were al narly related), went out of town together, and Mr. Spenlow and I drove away in th phaeton. Th phaeton was a very handsome affair; th hrses arched their neks and lfted up their legs as if they knew they beged to Doctors’ Cmmons. Thre was a god deal of competition in th Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 531 Cmmon o all poits of display, and it turnd out some very choice equipages th; thugh I always have codered, and always sal coder, that in my tim the great artic of competition thre was starch: which I think was worn among th proctors to as great an extent as it is in the nature of man to bear. We were very plasant, going down, and Mr. Spew gave m some hints in reference to my profesion He said it was th geteelest professon i the wrld, and must on no acunt be nfounded wth th profession of a solicitor: beg quite anthr sort of thing, infinitely more exclusive, les mechanical, and more profitable. We tok thgs much more easily in th Cos than they could be take anywre else, he observed, and that set us, as a privileged cass, apart. He said it was impossibl to conal th disagreabl fact, that we were chiefly emplyed by solicitors; but he gave me to understand that they were an iferior race of m, universally looked dow upo by al protors of any pretesions. I asked Mr. Spenl what he codered the bet sort of professional bus? He replied, that a god case of a disputed wil, where there was a neat little estate of thirty or forty thousand pounds, was, perhaps, th best of all. In such a case, he said, not only wre thre very pretty pickings, in th way of arguments at every stage of the proceedigs, and mountai upo muntai of evide on interrogatory and counter-interrogatory (to say nthing of an appeal lyig, first to the Degates, and then to the Lords), but, the cots beg pretty sure to co out of the estate at last, both sides went at it in a lively and spirited manr, and expense was no cosideration. Th, he launched into a geral eulogium on the Com. What was to be partiularly admred (h said) in th Co, was its compactns. It was th most Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 532 conveiently organized place in th world. It was th coplete idea of snugness. It lay i a nuts For example: You brought a divorc case, or a restitution case, into th Consistory. Very god. You tried it in th Cosistory. You made a quiet littl round game of it, among a family group, and you played it out at leisure Suppose you were not satisfied with th Cnsistory, wat did you do then? Why, you wet into the Arc. What was the Arc? The sam curt, in the sam room, with the sam bar, and the same practitirs, but anthr judge, for thre th Consistory judge could plead any court-day as an advocate. Wel, you played your round gam out agai Sti you were nt satisfid. Very good. What did you do then? Why, you went to the Degates Who were the Degates? Why, the Ecastial Degates were the advocates without any bus, who had looked on at the round gam when it was playig in both courts, and had s the cards uffled, and cut, and played, and had talked to al the players about it, and now cam fresh, as judge, to settle the matter to the satisfaction of everybody! Disontented peopl might talk of corruption in th Common, cl in th Commons, and th cessity of reforming th Commons, said Mr. Spelow solemnly, in conclusion; but wh th pri of wat per bushe had be ghest, the C had be bust; and a man might lay his hand upon hi heart, and say this to the whole world,—‘Touch the Cmmon, and dow comes th country!’ I lited to all this with attentin; and though, I must say, I had my doubts whether the country was quite as muc obliged to the Cmmon as Mr. Spenlow made out, I respectfuly deferred to hi pinion. That about th price of what per bushe, I modestly felt was too muc for my strength, and quite settled the question. I Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 533 have nver, to this hour, got the better of that bus of wheat. It has reappeared to annihilate me, al through my life, in conxion th all kinds of subjets I don’t kn now, exactly, what it has to do with m, or what right it has to crush me, on an infinte variety of occas; but whenever I see my old frid the busel brought i by the head and shoulders (as he always is, I observe), I give up a subjet for lost. This is a digresion. I was not the man to touch the Co, and brig dow th country. I submissivey expred, by my silence, my acquiescence in all I had heard fro my superir in years and knledge; and we talked about “Th Stranger” and th Drama, and th pairs of horses, until we came to Mr. Spenlow’s gate. There was a lovely garde to Mr. Spew’s house; and though that was nt the bet tim of the year for seg a garde, it was so beautifully kept, that I was quite enanted. There was a carmg law, there were clusters of trees, and there wre perspective walks that I could just distingui in th dark, arched over with trellis-wrk, on which shrubs and flrs gre in th growing sason. ‘Here Mis Spew walks by herself,’ I thought. ‘Dear me!’ We went ito the house, whic was chrfully lighted up, and into a hal whre thre were all sorts of hats, caps, great-coats, plaids, glve, wips, and walking-sticks. ‘Where is Miss Dora?’ said Mr. Spew to the servant. ‘Dora!’ I thought. ‘What a beautiful name!’ We turned into a room nar at hand (I think it was the idetical breakfast-ro, made memorable by th bron East Indian sherry), and I hard a voice say, ‘Mr. Copperfield, my daughter Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 534 Dora, and my daughter Dora’s confidential friend!’ It was, no doubt, Mr. Spenlow’s voice, but I didn’t know it, and I didn’t care it was. Al was over in a moment. I had fulfilled my destiny. I was a captive and a slave I loved Dora Spelow to distraction! She was more than human to me. She was a Fairy, a Sylph, I do’t know wat se was—anythig that n one ever saw, and everythig that everybody ever wanted. I was sald up i an abyss of love in an instant. Thre was no pausing on th brik; no lookig down, or lookig back; I was gon, headlg, before I had s to say a word to her. ‘I,’ obsrved a we-remembered vo, when I had bod and murmured sothg, ‘have seen Mr. Copperfield before.’ Th speaker was not Dora. No; th confidential friend, Miss Murdstone! I do’t think I was muc astond. To the bet of my judget, no capacity of astonishment was left in me. Thre was thing worth metig in the material world, but Dora Spew, to be astonid about. I said, ‘How do you do, Mis Murdstone? I hope you are w’ She anered, ‘Very w’ I said, ‘How i Mr. Murdstone?’ Sh repld, ‘My brother is robust, I am oblged to you.’ Mr. Spenlow, w, I suppose, had be surprid to see us regnize each othr, th put in his word. ‘I am glad to find,’ he said, ‘Copperfield, that you and Mi Murdstone are already acquaited.’ ‘Mr. Cpperfield and myself,’ said Miss Murdsto, with severe mposure, ‘are conxions. We were once slightly acquainted. It was in his childish days. Circumstances have separated us sinc I should nt have known him’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 535 I repld that I should have known her, anywhere. Wh was true enough. ‘Miss Murdsto has had th godness,’ said Mr. Spelow to me, ‘to accept th office—if I may so desribe it—of my daughter Dora’s confidential friend. My daughter Dora having, unappily, n mther, Mis Murdstone is obliging enough to be her companion and protetor.’ A passing thught occurred to me that Miss Murdsto, like th pocket instrument called a life-prerver, was not so much degnd for purposes of protection as of asault. But as I had n but pasg thoughts for any subjet save Dora, I glancd at hr, directly afterwards, and was thking that I saw, in her prettily pettish manr, that she was not very much inclind to be particularly confidential to her companion and protetor, wh a bel rang, which Mr. Spenlow said was th first dinner-bell, and so carrid me off to dress. The idea of dreg one’s sef, or dog anything in the way of acti, in that state of love, was a littl to ridiculous. I could oly sit dow before my fire, biting th key of my carpet-bag, and thk of th captivating, girlish, bright-eyed lovely Dora. What a form she had, what a face she had, what a gracful, variable, echanting manner! Th bell rang again so soo that I made a mere scramble of my dresing, instead of th careful operation I could have wished under th circumstances, and went dowstairs. Thre was some cpany. Dora was talkig to an old gentlan with a grey head. Grey as he was—and a great-grandfather into the bargai, for he said so—I was madly jealus of him. What a state of mind I was in! I was jealus of everybody. I Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 536 culdn’t bear the idea of anybody knowing Mr. Spew better than I did. It was torturing to me to hear them talk of occurrence in which I had had no share Whe a most amiabl pers, wth a hghly polished bald head, asked me across th dinner tabl, if that wre th first occasion of my seeng th grounds, I could have do anything to him that was savage and revengeful. I do’t reber who was there, except Dora. I have not th ast idea what we had for dinner, bede Dora. My impresio is, that I dined off Dora, etirely, and sent away half-a-doze plate untouched. I sat next to her. I talked to her. Sh had the mt deghtful lttle voic, the gayest lttle laugh, the plasantet and most fascinating littl ways, that ever led a lost youth into hpe avery. Sh was rather diutive altogether. So muc the more precious, I thught. Whe she wnt out of th ro with Miss Murdsto (n othr ladi were of the party), I fell into a reverie, only diturbed by the cruel appre that Mi Murdsto would disparage me to her. The amabl creature with the pod head told me a log story, whic I think was about gardeg. I think I heard hi say, ‘my gardener’, several ti I seed to pay the deepest atteti to him, but I was wanderig in a garde of Ede al the whil, with Dora. My appres of beg disparaged to th object of my egrossing affection were revived wh we went into th drawigro, by th grim and distant aspect of Miss Murdsto But I was reeved of them in an unexpeted maner. ‘David Copperfield,’ said Mi Murdstone, bekonig me asde to a wido. ‘A word.’ I confronted Miss Murdsto al Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 537 ‘David Copperfield,’ said Mi Murdstone, ‘I need nt earge upon famiy circumtance They are nt a tempting subjet.’ ‘Far fro it, ma’am,’ I returned. ‘Far fro it,’ assented Miss Murdsto ‘I do not wish to revive the mry of past differenc, or of past outrages I have received outrage fro a pers—a feale I am sorry to say, for th credit of my sex—w is not to be mentioned withut scorn and digust; and therefore I would rather not meti her.’ I felt very firy on my aunt’s account; but I said it wuld certainly be better, if Miss Murdsto plased, nt to mention hr. I could not hear her disrespectfuly mentioned, I added, withut expressing my opiion in a decided to Miss Murdsto shut her eye, and disdainfully inclind her head; then, sowly opeg her eyes, resumd: ‘David Cpperfied, I sal nt attempt to diguis the fact, that I formed an unfavourabl opi of you in your chdhood. It may have be a mtake one, or you may have ceasd to justify it. That i not in question betwee us no I beg to a famiy remarkabl, I believe, for so firmn; and I am nt the creature of circumstance or change. I may have my opiion of you. You may have your opi of me’ I inced my head, in my turn ‘But it is not necesary,’ said Miss Murdsto, ‘that th pinions should come into colision here. Under existig circumstance, it is as we on all accounts that thy should not. As the can of lfe have brought us together agai, and may brig us together on other occas, I would say, lt us meet here as distant acquaintances. Family circumtan are a sufficient reason for our only meeting o that foting, and it is quite Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 538 unnary that either of us should make the other the subject of remark. Do you approve of this?’ ‘Miss Murdsto,’ I returnd, ‘I thk you and Mr. Murdsto usd me very cruey, and treated my mothr wth great unkindne I shall alays thk so, as long as I live But I quite agree in what you propose.’ Miss Murdsto shut her eye again, and bent hr had. Th, just toucng th back of my hand with th tips of her cold, stiff fingers, s walked away, arrangig the little fetters on her wrists and round her neck; which seed to be th same set, i exactly the sam state, as when I had se her last. The reded m, in reference to Miss Murdsto’s nature, of th fetters over a jail door; suggestig on the outside, to al beholders, what was to be xpected within. A I know of the ret of the evenig is, that I heard the empres of my heart sig enanted balads i the Fre language, genrally to the effect that, whatever was the matter, we ought always to dance, Ta ra la, Ta ra la! accpanying hersef o a glrified instrument, reblng a guitar. That I was lost i blssful delirium That I refused refret. That my soul reiled fro pun particularly. That wh Miss Murdsto tok hr into custody and led her away, she smiled and gave me hr deus hand. That I caught a view of mysf i a mirror, lookig perfetly imbecile and idiotic. That I retired to bed i a most maudlin state of mind, and got up in a crisis of feble infatuation. It was a fin mrnig, and early, and I thought I would go and take a stroll down one of those wire-arched walks, and idulge my passion by dweling on her image On my way through th hall, I euntered her littl dog, wh was called Jip—short for Gipsy. I Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 539 approaced him tenderly, for I loved even hi; but he showed hi hole set of teeth, got under a cair expresy to sarl, and wuldn’t hear of th least familiarity. The garde was cool and sotary. I walked about, wonderig wat my feings of happiness would be, if I could ever beme egaged to this dear wonder. As to marriage, and fortune, and all that, I believe I was alt as intly undegnig then, as when I loved lttle Em’ly. To be allwed to call her ‘Dora’, to write to her, to dote upon and worship her, to have reas to think that w she was with othr people she was yet midful of me, sed to me th sumit of human ambiti—I am sure it was the sumt of mi There is n doubt watever that I was a lackadaial young spooney; but there was a purity of heart in all this, that prevets my having quite a conteptuous rellection of it, let me laugh as I may. I had not bee walkig long, wh I turnd a cornr, and met hr. I tingle again fro head to fot as my rellection turns that cornr, and my pen shake in my hand. ‘You—are—out early, Miss Spen,’ said I. ‘It’s so stupid at ho,’ she replied, ‘and Miss Murdsto i so absurd! She talks such nonsen about its beg necesary for th day to be aired, before I come out. Aired!’ (Sh laughd, here, in th most melodius manner.) ‘On a Sunday morng, w I don’t must practise, I must do somethg. So I tod papa last night I come out. Besides, it’s th brightet time of th wh day. Don’t you think so?’ I hazarded a bod flght, and said (not without stamring) that it was very bright to me then, thugh it had been very dark to me a minute before Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 540 ‘Do you mean a compliment?’ said Dora, ‘or that th weathr has really changed?’ I stamred worse than before, in replying that I mant n plimt, but the plai truth; though I was not aware of any change having taken place in th weathr. It was i th state of my own feeligs, I added basfully: to clenc the explanati I never saw such curl—h could I, for thre never wre such curls!—as those se shook out to hide her blushes As to the straw at and blue ribbons which was on th top of th curl, if I could only have hung it up i my room i Buckigham Street, what a priceless possession it would have be! ‘You have just come ho fro Paris,’ said I. ‘Yes,’ said se. ‘Have you ever been there?’ ‘No’ ‘Oh! I hope you’l go soon! You would lke it so muc!’ Trac of deep-sated anguih appeared in my cunteane. That she should hope I would go, that she should thk it possible I could go, was insupportable. I depreciated Paris; I depreated France. I said I wouldn’t leave England, under existing circumstance, for any earthy consideration. Nothing should induce me. In short, she was shaking th curls again, w th ttle dog cam rung alg the walk to our relf. He was mortally jealus of me, and persisted i barkig at me. She took him up in her arm—oh my goodn!—and caressed hm, but he persisted upo barking still. He wouldn’t let me touc m, wh I tried; and th she beat him. It icreased my sufferings greatly to se the pats sh gave him for punist on th bridge of his blunt nose, while he winked his eye, and licked hr hand, and still groled within himself like a littl double-bass. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 541 At legth he was quiet—wel he might be with her dipld ch upo his head!—and we walked away to look at a greuse ‘You are not very intiate with Miss Murdsto, are you?’ said Dora.— ‘My pet.’ (The two last words were to the dog. Oh, if they had only be to me!) ‘No,’ I replied. ‘Not at al so.’ ‘She is a tiresome creature,’ said Dora, poutig. ‘I can’t thk wat papa can have be about, wh he cho such a vexatius thing to be my companion. Who wants a protetor? I am sure I do’t want a protector. Jip can protect m a great deal better than Miss Murdsto,—can’t you, Jip, dear?’ He ony wiked lazily, when she kied his bal of a head. ‘Papa calls her my confidential friend, but I am sure she is no such thing—is she, Jip? We are not going to confide i any such cross people, Jip and I. We mean to besto our confidece wre we like, and to find out our own friends, itead of having them found out for us—don’t we, Jip?’ jip made a cofortabl n, in ansr, a little like a tea-kettle when it sigs A for me, every word was a new heap of fetters, riveted above the last. ‘It is very hard, becaus we have not a kind Mama, that we are to have, instead, a sulky, gly od thing like Miss Murdsto, always fowing us about—i’t it, Jip? Never mnd, Jip. We won’t be confidential, and we’ll make oursves as happy as we can in spite of hr, and we’ll teas her, and not plase her—wn’t we, Jip?’ If it had lasted any longer, I think I must have go dow o my kn on the grave, with the probabity before m of grazig Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 542 them, and of beg presently ejected from the premi bede But, by good fortune the greehouse was not far off, and thes words brought us to it. It contained quite a sho of beautiful geranium We loitered along i front of them, and Dora often stopped to admre this o or that one, and I stopped to admre the sam one, and Dora, laughng, held th dog up childishly, to smell th flrs; and if w I was The sct of a re not all thre in Fairyland, certaiy geranium leaf, at this day, strikes me with a half comal half serius wonder as to what change has come over me in a moment; and then I se a straw hat and blue ribbons, and a quantity of curls, and a littl black dog being held up, i tw slender arms, against a bank of blssom and bright leave Miss Murdsto had be looking for us. She found us hre; and prested her uncgenial cheek, the little wrikl in it fild wth hair powder, to Dora to be kissed. Th she tok Dora’s arm in hrs, and marcd us into breakfast as if it were a soldier’s funeral. Ho many cups of tea I drank, becaus Dora made it, I don’t know. But, I perfectly rember that I sat sg tea until my whole nervous system, if I had had any in those days, must have go by th board. By and by we wet to churc Mi Murdsto was betwee Dora and m in the pew; but I heard her sg, and th congregati vanished. A serm was delivered—about Dora, of course—and I am afraid that is all I know of th service. We had a quiet day. No company, a walk, a family dinner of four, and an evenig of lookig over books and pitures; Mis Murdstone with a homiy before her, and her eye upon us, keepig guard vigilantly. Ah! littl did Mr. Spenlow imagi, wh he sat Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 543 opposite to me after dinnr that day, with his pocket-handkerchief over hi head, how fervently I was embracg him, in my fany, as so-i-law! Little did he think, when I took leave of hi at nght, that he had just given hi full cot to my beg egaged to Dora, and that I was invoking blsings on his head! We departed early in the morng, for w had a Salvage cas g on in the Admralty Court, requirig a rather acurate knowledge of th wh science of navigati, in which (as we uldn’t be expected to kn much about th matters in th mmon) th judge had entreated tw old Trinity Masters, for charity’s sake, to come and help him out. Dora was at th breakfast-tabl to make th tea again, hover; and I had th lanholy plasure of takig off my hat to her in the phaeton, as e stood on the door-step with Jip in her arm What th Admiralty was to me that day; what nonsen I made of our case i my mind, as I listed to it; ho I saw ‘DORA’ engraved upon the blade of the siver oar wh they lay upo th table, as the emblem of that high juriditi; and how I felt when Mr. Spenlow went home without m (I had had an inan hope that he might take me back again), as if I wre a marir myself, and th ship to which I belonged had said away and left me o a desert island; I shall make no fruitlss effort to describe If that sleepy old court could rous itself, and pret in any vibl form th daydreams I have had in it about Dora, it would reveal my truth. I don’t mean th dreams that I dreamed on that day al, but day after day, from week to week, and term to term. I went there, nt to attend to what was going on, but to think about Dora. If ever I betowed a thought upon the cas, as they dragged their sow Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 544 length before me, it was only to wonder, in th matrimonial case (remberig Dora), how it was that married pepl culd ever be thrwise than happy; and, in th Prerogative cases, to consider, if the moy in questio had be lft to me, what were the foremt steps I should idiatey have take in regard to Dora. Within th first wk of my passion, I bought four sumptuous aistcoats—not for myself; I had no pride in th; for Dora—and tok to wearing straw-coloured kid glve in th strets, and laid the foundations of al the corns I have ever had. If the boots I wore at that perid could only be producd and compared with th atural size of my feet, they would show what the state of my heart was, in a most affecting manner. And yet, wretched cripple as I made myself by this act of homage to Dora, I walked mi upon mles daiy in the hope of seeing her. Not only was I soon as well known on the Norwood Road as th postmen on that beat, but I pervaded London ke. I walked about the streets were the bet shops for ladi re, I haunted th Bazaar like an unquiet spirit, I fagged through th Park again and again, long after I was quite knocked up. Sometimes, at long intervals and on rare ocasions, I saw her. Perhaps I saw her glve waved in a carriage window; perhaps I mt her, walked with her and Mis Murdstone a little way, and spoke to her. In th latter case I was alays very miserabl afterwards, to think that I had said nothing to the purpose; or that se had n idea of the extent of my devotion, or that she cared nthing about m I was always lookig out, as may be supposed, for another invitation to Mr. Spenlow’s house I was always beg diappoted, for I got no Mrs. Crupp must have be a woan of penetration; for wh Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 545 this attact was but a few weeks old, and I had nt had the courage to write more explicitly eve to Agnes, than that I had been to Mr. Spenlow’s house, ‘whose famy,’ I added, ‘consts of one daughter’;—I say Mrs. Crupp must have been a wan of petrati, for, even i that early stage, she found it out. Sh am up to me one evenig, when I was very lo, to ask (she beg then afflited with the dirder I have metid) if I could oblge her with a lttle tincture of cardamums mixed with rhubarb, and flavoured with seven drops of the esse of coves, whic was the best remedy for her complaint;—or, if I had not such a thing by m, with a lttle brandy, whic was the nxt bet. It was nt, sh remarked, so palatabl to her, but it was the next bet. As I had never eve hard of th first remedy, and always had th second in th clt, I gave Mrs. Crupp a glass of th second, which (that I might have no suspicion of its beg devoted to any improper us) she began to take in my prece. ‘Cheer up, sir,’ said Mrs. Crupp. ‘I can’t abear to see you so, sr: I’m a mothr myself.’ myself, but I did not quite percve th application of this fact to I smiled on Mrs. Crupp, as begny as was in my powr. ‘Co, sir,’ said Mrs. Crupp. ‘Excus me. I know what it is, sir. There’s a lady in the cas.’ ‘Mrs. Crupp?’ I returned, reddeg. ‘Oh, bls you! Kep a god heart, sir!’ said Mrs. Crupp, nddig euragemet. ‘Never say die, sir! If Sh do’t s be upo you, thre’s a many as wi You are a young gentleman to smild on, Mr. Copperfull, and you must learn your walue, sir.’ Mrs. Crupp alays caled m Mr. Copperfull: firstly, no doubt, becaus it was not my name; and secondly, I am ind to thk, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 546 in some indistinct association with a washig-day. ‘What makes you suppose thre is any young lady in th case, Mrs. Crupp?’ said I. ‘Mr. Cpperfull,’ said Mrs. Crupp, with a great deal of feg, ‘I’m a mother myself.’ For so tim Mrs. Crupp culd only lay her hand upo her nanke bo, and fortify hersef against returnig pai with sips of her medicine At length she spoke again. ‘When the pret set were took for you by your dear aunt, Mr. Cpperfull,’ said Mrs. Crupp, ‘my remark were, I had now found summun I could care for. “Thank Ev’in!” were the expression, “I have now found summun I can care for!”—You don’t eat enugh, sir, nor yet drink.’ ‘Is that what you found your supposition on, Mrs. Crupp?’ said I. ‘Sir,’ said Mrs. Crupp, in a to approachig to severity, ‘I’ve laundressed othr young gentlemen besides yourself. A young gentlan may be over-careful of hielf, or he may be undercareful of himelf. He may brush his hair too regular, or too unregular. He may wear his boots muc too large for him, or muc too smal That is accrdig as the young gentlan has hi origial character formed. But let him go to whic extrem he may, sir, there’s a young lady in both of ’em.’ Mrs. Crupp shook her head in suc a determied manner, that I had not an inch of vantage-ground left. ‘It was but th gentleman wich died hre before yourself,’ said Mrs. Crupp, ‘that fell in love—wth a barmaid—and had his aistcoats tok in directly, thugh much sweled by driking.’ ‘Mrs. Crupp,’ said I, ‘I must beg you nt to coct the young Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 547 lady in my cas with a barmaid, or anythg of that sort, if you please.’ ‘Mr. Cpperfull,’ returned Mrs. Crupp, ‘I’m a mther mysf, and not likely. I ask your pardo, sir, if I intrude I should never w to intrude where I were not wee. But you are a young gentleman, Mr. Copperfull, and my adwice to you is, to cher up, sr, to keep a good heart, and to know your own walue. If you was to take to sthing, sr,’ said Mrs. Crupp, ‘if you was to take to skittle, now, whic is healthy, you might find it divert your md, and do you good.’ With thes words, Mrs. Crupp, affectig to be very careful of the brandy—which was all go—thanked me with a majestic curtsey, and retired. As her figure diappeared ito the gloom of the entry, this counl certaiy preted itself to my mind in th light of a slight liberty on Mrs. Crupp’s part; but, at th same time, I was ntet to receive it, in anthr point of vi, as a wrd to th ise, and a warning in future to keep my secret better. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 548 Chapter 27 TOMMY TRADDLES I t may have be in conseque of Mrs. Crupp’s advice, and, perhaps, for n better reason than beause there was a certain similarity in th sound of th word skittl and Traddl, that it cam ito my head, nxt day, to go and look after Traddles. Th time h had mentioned was more than out, and he lived in a littl stret near th Veteriary College at Camden To, which was pricipally teanted, as on of our clrks w lived in that direction informd me, by gentlemen studets, w bought live donkeys, and made experiments on th quadrupeds in thr private apartmts. Having obtaid fro this clerk a directi to the acade grove in question, I set out, the sam aftern, to visit my old sc hoolfellow. I found that th stret was not as desirabl a on as I could have wisd it to be, for the sake of Traddl The inhabitants appeared to have a propety to throw any little trifl they were not in ant of, into the road: which not ony made it rank and sloppy, but untidy too, on accunt of the cabbage-lave The refuse was not wlly vegetable eithr, for I myself saw a sho, a doubled-up saucpan, a black bonnet, and an umbrea, in varius stage of decomposition, as I was lookig out for th number I wanted. The geral air of the place reded m forcbly of the days when I lived with Mr. and Mrs. Micawber. An inderibable aracter of faded gentity that attacd to the house I sought, and made it unke all th othr houses in th stret—thugh thy Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 549 wre all buit on on monotonous pattern, and looked like th arly copies of a blundering boy wh was learning to make huses, and had nt yet got out of his cramped brik-and-mrtar pothooks—reminded m stil more of Mr. and Mrs. Miawber. Happeg to arrive at the door as it was oped to the afternoon mlkman, I was remded of Mr. and Mrs. Micawber more forcibly yet. ‘No,’ said the mikman to a very youthful servant girl. ‘Has that there little bi of m be heerd on?’ ‘Oh, master says he’ll atted to it immediate,’ was the reply. ‘Beause,’ said th mikman, going on as if he had received no answer, and speaking, as I judged fro his to, rathr for th dification of somebody wthin th house, than of th youthful rvant—an impre which was strengthd by his manr of glarig down the pasage—‘beaus that there little bill has be running so long, that I begin to believe it’s run away altogethr, and never won’t be heerd of. Now, I’m nt a going to stand it, you know!’ said th milkman, still throng his voice into th house, and glarig down the pasage to his dealig in the mid artic of mlk, by the by, there ver was a greater anomaly. His deportment would have be firce in a butcr or a brandy-mrchant. The voic of the youthful servant beam fait, but s sd to m, from the action of her lips, agai to murmur that it would be attended to imdiate ‘I tell you what,’ said th milkman, looking hard at her for th first time, and takig her by the chi, ‘are you fond of mik?’ ‘Yes, I likes it,’ she replied. ‘God,’ said the milkman ‘Th you wn’t have none tomorro D’ye hear? Not a fragment of mik you Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 550 won’t have tomorrow.’ I thought se seemed, upon the whole, reeved by the prospet of having any today. The mikman, after shakig his head at her darkly, relasd her ch, and with anything rather than good-wil oped his can, and depoted the usual quantity in the famy jug. This do, he went away, muttering, and uttered the cry of his trade next door, in a vidictive shrik. ‘Does Mr. Traddles lve here?’ I then inquired. A mysterious voice fro th end of th passage replied ‘Ye.’ Upon which the youthful servant replied ‘Yes.’ ‘Is he at hoe?’ said I. Again th mysterious voice replied in th affirmative, and again th servant ecd it. Upo this, I walked in, and in pursuance of th servant’s directions walked upstairs; concious, as I passed th back parlour-door, that I was surveyed by a mysterius eye, probably belonging to th mysterious voice. Wh I got to the top of the stairs—the house was only a story high above the ground floor—Traddl was on the landig to met me. He was delighted to see me, and gave me we, with great heartin, to hi little room. It was in the front of the house, and extrey neat, thugh sparely furnished. It was his only ro, I saw; for thre was a sofa-bedstead in it, and his blacking-brushe and blackig were amg his books—on the top shelf, bed a dictionary. His tabl was covered with papers, and h was hard at wrk in an old coat. I looked at nothing, that I know of, but I saw verythng, eve to th prospect of a church upo his chia inkstand, as I sat dow—and this, to, was a faculty confirmed in me i th old Micawber times. Varius ingeus arrangets he ad made, for th disguise of his chet of drawers, and th Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 551 accomdation of his bots, his shavig-glass, and so forth, particularly impressed thlve upo me, as evideces of th same Traddl w usd to make models of elphants’ dens in riting-paper to put flies in; and to comfort himself under ill usage, with the merabl works of art I have so often mtid. In a cornr of th ro was something neatly covered up with a large white cloth I could not make out what that was. ‘Traddles,’ said I, shaking hands with him again, after I had sat dow, ‘I am delghted to see you.’ ‘I am delighted to se you, Copperfield,’ he returned. ‘I am very glad ided to s you. It was beause I was thoroughly glad to se you when we met in Ely Place, and was sure you were thoroughly glad to se me, that I gave you this address instead of my addre at chambers’ ‘Oh! You have chambers?’ said I. ‘Why, I have th fourth of a ro and a pasage, and th fourth of a cerk,’ returned Traddl. ‘Three others and mysf unte to have a st of chambers—to look bus-like—and we quarter the clerk to Half-a-cro a wek he costs me.’ His old simple character and god teper, and smething of h old unlucky fortune al, I thought, smd at m in the sm with wich he made this explanation. ‘It’s not beause I have the least pride, Copperfield, you understand,’ said Traddl, ‘that I do’t usually give my addre here. It’s only on acunt of those who co to m, who mght nt lke to co here. For mysf, I am fighting my way on i the wrld against difficulties, and it would be ridiculus if I made a pretenc of dog anythig els.’ ‘You are readig for the bar, Mr. Waterbrook informed m?’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 552 said I. ‘Why, yes,’ said Traddl, rubbing his hands slowly over o another. ‘I am readig for the bar. The fact i, I have just begun to keep my terms, after rather a lg delay. It’s some time se I was articd, but the paymet of that hundred pounds was a great pull great pull!’ said Traddl, with a wince, as if he had had a tooth out. ‘Do you know what I can’t help thinkig of, Traddl, as I st here lookig at you?’ I asked him ‘No,’ said he ‘That sky-blue suit you used to wear.’ ‘Lord, to be sure!’ cried Traddl, laughng. ‘Tight in th arms and legs, you know? Dear me! We! Those were happy tim, weren’t they?’ ‘I think our schoolmaster might have made them happir, without dog any harm to any of us, I acknowledge,’ I returned. ‘Perhaps h might,’ said Traddles. ‘But dear me, thre was a good deal of fun going on Do you rember the nights in the bedro? Wh we usd to have th suppers? And wh you used to te the stori? Ha, ha, ha! And do you reber when I got cand for crying about Mr. Mel? Old Creakl! I should like to see him agai, too!’ ‘He was a brute to you, Traddl,’ said I, idignantly; for hi god humour made me fe as if I had se hm beate but yesterday. ‘Do you think s?’ returned Traddl ‘Realy? Perhaps he was rather. But it’s al over, a log whe. Old Creakle!’ ‘You were brought up by an uncle, then?’ said I. ‘Of course I was!’ said Traddl ‘Th on I was alays gog to Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 553 write to. Ad alays didn’t, eh! Ha, ha, ha! Yes, I had an un then. He did soon after I left school.’ ‘Indeed!’ ‘Ye. He was a retired—wat do you cal it!—draper—clothmercant—and had made me hi heir. But he didn’t like me w I grew up.’ ‘Do you really mean that?’ said I. He was so composd, that I fand he must have so other meang. ‘Oh dear, yes, Copperfield! I mean it,’ replied Traddl. ‘It was an unfortunate thing, but he didn’t like me at all. He said I was’t at all what he expected, and so he marrid his housekeeper.’ ‘And what did you do?’ I asked. ‘I didn’t do anythg in particular,’ said Traddles. ‘I lved wth them, waitig to be put out in the world, until his gout unfortunatey fl to his stoach—and so he died, and so she marrid a young man, and so I was’t provided for.’ ‘Did you get nothing, Traddl, after all?’ ‘Oh dear, yes!’ said Traddles. ‘I got fifty pounds. I had never bee brought up to any profe, and at first I was at a loss what to do for myself. Hover, I began, with th assistance of th son f a professional man, wh had be to Salem Hous—Yawr, wth his nose on on side. Do you rellect him?’ No. He had not been there with me; al the no were straight in my day. ‘It do’t matter,’ said Traddl ‘I began, by man of hi assistance, to copy law writings That didn’t answer very wll; and th I began to state cases for th, and make abstracts, and that sort of work. For I am a pldding kind of fellow, Cpperfield, and had learnt th way of doig such things pithly. Well! That put it i Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 554 my head to enter myself as a law studet; and that ran away wth all that was left of th fifty pounds. Yawr reded me to one or two other offic, however—Mr. Waterbrook’s for one—and I got a good many jobs I was fortunate enough, too, to be acquaited with a person i the publg way, who was getting up an Encyclopaedia, and he set me to work; and, indeed’ (glancing at his tabl), ‘I am at wrk for hm at this minute. I am not a bad compiler, Copperfield,’ said Traddles, prerving th same air of cherful confidece in all he said, ‘but I have no invention at all; not a particle. I suppose thre never was a young man with les originality than I have.’ As Traddles seed to expect that I should assent to this as a matter of course, I nodded; and he went on, with th same sprightly patice—I can find no better expresion—as before ‘So, by lttle and little, and nt living high, I managed to srape up th hundred pounds at last,’ said Traddles; ‘and thank Heave that’s paid—thugh it was—thugh it certainly was,’ said Traddl, wing agai as if he had had another tooth out, ‘a pul I am living by th sort of work I have mentioned, still, and I hpe, one of thes days, to get coted with s newspaper: whic uld alt be the makig of my fortune. No, Copperfield, you are s exactly what you used to be, with that agreeable fac, and it’s so plasant to see you, that I sha’n’t coal anythng. Therefore you must know that I am engaged.’ Engaged! Oh, Dora! ‘She is a curate’s daughter,’ said Traddl; ‘one of te, dow in Devonshire. Yes!’ For h saw me glance, involuntariy, at th prospect on th inkstand. ‘That’s th church! You come round here to the left, out of th gate,’ tracg hi finger along the Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 555 ikstand, ‘and exactly where I hold th pe, there stands th house—facg, you understand, towards the church’ The deght with whic he entered into thes particulars, did not fully pret itself to me until afterwards; for my selfish thoughts were makig a ground-plan of Mr. Spenlow’s house and garde at th same moment. ‘She is such a dear girl!’ said Traddl; ‘a littl older than me, but the dearet girl! I told you I was going out of town? I have been do there. I walked there, and I walked back, and I had th t delightful tim! I dare say ours is lkey to be a rather log egagemt, but our mtto i “Wait and hope!” We always say that. “Wait and hpe,” w always say. And she wuld wait, Cpperfield, ti she was sixty—any age you can mention—for me!’ Traddles ro fro hi chair, and, with a triumphant sile, put hi hand upo the white cloth I had obsrved. ‘However,’ he said, ‘it’s nt that we haven’t made a beging towards housekepig. No, n; we have begun. We must get on by degree, but we have begun. Here,’ drawg the coth off with great pride and care, ‘are tw pieces of furniture to commence wth. This flr-pot and stand, she bought hersf. You put that in a parlur wndow,’ said Traddles, falling a littl back fro it to urvey it with the greater admratio, ‘wth a plant in it, and—and there you are! This little round tabl with the marbl top (it’s two fet ten in circumferece), I bought. You want to lay a bok dow, you kn, or somebody comes to see you or your wife, and wants a plac to stand a cup of tea upo, and—and thre you are again!’ said Traddl ‘It’s an admirabl piece of wrkmanship—firm as a rock!’ I praisd them both, highly, and Traddl replaced the cvering as carefully as he had remved it. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 556 ‘It’s nt a great deal towards the furnig,’ said Traddl, ‘but it’s somethg. Th tabl-cloth, and pillow-cases, and arti of that kind, are what discourage me most, Cpperfield. So doe th iromongery—candle-boxe, and gridiros, and that sort of necesaries—becaus th things te, and mount up. Hover, “wait and hope!” And I asure you she’s the dearest girl!’ ‘I am quite certai of it,’ said I. ‘In the meantime,’ said Traddles, comg back to his chair; ‘and this is the end of my prosig about mysf, I get on as well as I can I don’t make much, but I don’t sped much. In geral, I board wth the peopl dotairs, who are very agreeable pepl indeed. Both Mr. and Mrs. Micawber have se a good deal of life, and are xcellent company.’ ‘My dear Traddl!’ I quickly exclaimed. ‘What are you talking about?’ Traddles looked at me, as if he wondered what I was talking about. ‘Mr. and Mrs. Micawber!’ I repeated. ‘Why, I am itimately acquaited with them!’ An opportun double knock at th door, which I kne w fro od experice in Windsor Terrace, and wh nobody but Mr. Miawber could ever have knocked at that door, reved any doubt in my mind as to their beg my old frieds I begged Traddles to ask his landlord to walk up. Traddl accordingly did s, over the banter; and Mr. Miawber, nt a bit canged—hi tights, his stick, his shirt-coar, and his eye-glass, all th same as ever—came into the room with a geteel and youthful air. ‘I beg your pardo, Mr. Traddl,’ said Mr. Micawber, with the Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 557 od ro i his voice, as he cheked himself in humming a soft tune ‘I was nt aware that there was any idividual, ali to this tement, in your sanctum’ Mr. Micawber slightly bod to me, and puld up his shirtcoar. ‘How do you do, Mr. Micawber?’ said I. in ‘Sir,’ said Mr. Micawber, ‘you are exceedigly oblgig. I am statu quo.’ ‘And Mrs. Micawber?’ I pursued. ‘Sir,’ said Mr. Micawber, ‘she is also, thank God, in statu quo’ ‘And th childre, Mr. Micawber?’ ‘Sir,’ said Mr. Micawber, ‘I rejoice to reply that they are, lke, in the enjoymt of salubrity.’ All this time, Mr. Miawber had not knn me in th least, though he had stood fac to fac with m But now, sg me e, he examed my features with more atteti, fell back, cried, ‘Is it posble! Have I th pleasure of again beding Copperfield!’ and shook me by both hands with the utmot fervour. ‘Good Heave, Mr. Traddl!’ said Mr. Micawber, ‘to think that I should find you acquainted with th friend of my youth, th mpanion of earlier days! My dear!’ calg over th banisters to Mrs. Micawber, whil Traddl looked (with reason) not a little amazed at this description of me. ‘Here is a gentlan in Mr. Traddl’s apartmet, whom he wis to have the plasure of presentig to you, my love!’ Mr. Micawber imdiatey reappeared, and shook hands with me again. ‘And ho is our god friend th Doctor, Cpperfield?’ said Mr. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 558 Miawber, ‘and al the circe at Canterbury?’ ‘I have no but god accounts of them,’ said I. ‘I am most delghted to hear it,’ said Mr. Miawber. ‘It was at Canterbury where we last mt. With the shadow, I may figuratively say, of that religius edifi immortalized by Caucr, wich was anciently th resort of Pilgri fro th remotest cornrs of—in short,’ said Mr. Miawber, ‘in th immediate ghbourhood of the Cathedral.’ I replied that it was. Mr. Micawber contiued talking as volubly as he culd; but nt, I thought, without showing, by so marks of concern in his countean, that he was sesible of sounds in th xt room, as of Mrs. Micawber wasg her hands, and hurriedly opeg and sutting drawrs that were uneasy in their action. ‘You find us, Copperfid,’ said Mr. Miawber, with one eye on Traddl, ‘at pret establihed, on what may be degnated as a small and unassuming scal; but, you are aware that I have, i th urse of my carer, surmunted difficulties, and conquered obstac You are no stranger to the fact, that there have been perids of my life, wh it has be requisite that I should paus, until certain expected evets should turn up; wh it has be cesary that I should fall back, before making what I trust I shal not be accused of preumption in terming—a spring. Th pret i one of those mtous stages in the life of man You find m, fallen back, for a sprig; and I have every reason to beeve that a vigorous leap will shortly be th result.’ I was expresing my satisfacti, wh Mrs. Micawber came in; a little more slatternly than sh used to be, or so sh sd now, to my unaccustod eye, but still with some preparation of herself for copany, and with a pair of brown gloves on. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 559 ‘My dear,’ said Mr. Micawber, leadig her toards me, ‘here is a gentlan of the nam of Copperfied, who wis to renew hi acquaintance with you.’ It would have be better, as it turned out, to have led gently up to this announcement, for Mrs. Micawber, beg i a delate state f health, was overcome by it, and was taken so unll, that Mr. Micawber was obliged, in great trepidati, to run do to the water-butt i the backyard, and draw a basful to lave her brow wth. She presently revived, however, and was realy pleasd to ee m We had half-an-hour’s talk, al together; and I asked her about the twin, who, sh said, were ‘grown great creatures’; and after Master and Mis Micawber, whom s deribed as ‘absute giants’, but they were not produced on that occas Mr. Micawber was very anxius that I should stay to dinner. I should nt have be avers to do so, but that I imagid I detected troubl, and calculati relative to the extent of the cod mat, i Mrs. Miawber’s eye. I therefore pleaded another egagement; and observing that Mrs. Micawber’s spirits were immediatey lighted, I reisted all persuasion to forego it. But I told Traddl, and Mr. and Mrs. Micawber, that before I culd think of lavig, they must appot a day when they would come and dine wth me. Th occupatis to which Traddles stod pledged, redered it necesary to fix a somewat distant o; but an appoitmt was made for th purpo, that suited us al, and then I took my leave. Mr. Micawber, under pretece of shoing me a nearer way than that by which I had come, accompanied me to th cornr of the street; beg anxious (he explaid to me) to say a few wrds to an old friend, in confidence. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 560 ‘My dear Cpperfield,’ said Mr. Miawber, ‘I need hardly te you that to have beath our roof, under existig crcumtan, a md like that wh gleam—if I may be ald the expreson— wich glam—in your friend Traddl, is an unspeakable comfort. With a washerwman, wh exposes hard-bake for sale in her parlour-window, dwellig next door, and a Bow-street officr residing over th way, you may imagi that his society is a source of consolation to myself and to Mrs. Micawber. I am at pret, my dear Copperfield, engaged in th sale of corn upo commissi. It is not an avoation of a remunerative description—i othr words, it doe not pay—and some teporary embarrassments of a peunary nature have been the coequene. I am, however, delighted to add that I have now an immediate propect of sthing turnig up (I am nt at liberty to say in what directi), whic I trust wil enabl m to provide, permanetly, both for mysf and for your fried Traddl, in whom I have an unaffected interest. You may, perhaps, be prepared to hear that Mrs Micawber i in a state of health which renders it not whlly iprobabl that an addition may be ultimately made to those pledge of affection which—in short, to th infantine group. Mrs Miawber’s famy have been s good as to expres their dissatisfacti at this state of things. I have merely to observe, that I am not aware that it is any business of thrs, and that I repel that exhibition of feeg with scrn, and with defian!’ Mr. Micawber then shook hands with m agai, and lft me Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 561 Chapter 28 Mr. MICAWBER’S GAUNTLET U nti the day arrived on whic I was to etertain my ney-found od friends, I lived pricipally on Dora and coffe In my love-lrn condition, my appetite languished; and I was glad of it, for I felt as thugh it would have be an act of perfidy towards Dora to have a natural relis for my dinnr. Th quantity of walkig exercise I tok, was not i this respect attended with its usual coquence, as th diappotmet counteracted the fresh air. I have my doubts, too, founded on th acute experice acquired at this perid of my life, wthr a sound ejoymt of animal fod can develop itself freey i any human subjet who is alays in tormet from tight bots. I thk th extreities require to be at peac before th stoach will conduct itself with vigour. On th ocas of this domesti littl party, I did not repeat my formr extensive preparation. I merely provided a pair of soles, a small leg of mutton, and a pigen-pi Mrs Crupp broke out into rebellion o my first bashful hint in reference to th cookig of th fish and jot, and said, with a dignified sen of injury, ‘No! No, sir! You will not ask me sich a thg, for you are better acquainted wth me than to suppo me capabl of doing wat I cannot do with ampial satisfactio to my own feegs!’ But, in the end, a compromise was effected; and Mrs. Crupp consented to acve this feat, on condition that I dined fro ho for a fortnight afterwards. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 562 Ad here I may remark, that what I underwent from Mrs. Crupp, i cequenc of the tyrany she establed over me, was dreadful. I never was so much afraid of anyo. We made a compromise of everythng. If I hsitated, she was taken wth that wnderful disorder which was alays lyig in ambush in hr syste, ready, at th shortest notice, to prey upo her vitals. If I rang th bell impatitly, after half-a-doze unavailing modest pulls, and she appeared at last—which was not by any mean to be relied upo—she would appear with a reproachful aspect, sk breathle on a chair near the door, lay her hand upon her nankeen bosom, and beme so ill, that I was glad, at any sacrifice of brandy or anything e, to get rid of her. If I objected to having my bed made at five o’clock in th aftern—wch I do still think an unfortable arrangeent—oe motion of her hand towards the sam nanke regio of wounded sebity was enough to make m falter an apology. In short, I would have do anything in an honourable way rather than give Mrs. Crupp offence; and se was the terror of my life. I bought a second-hand dumb-waiter for this dinnr-party, in prefere to re-engagig the handy young man; against whom I had conceived a prejudice, in consequence of meeting hm i th Strand, one Sunday mrning, in a waitcoat remarkably lke one f mine, which had be missing si th formr occasion Th ‘young gal’ was re-engaged; but on the stipulatio that sh should only brig i the di, and then withdraw to the landig-plac, beyond the outer door; where a habit of snffing she had ctracted would be lot upo the guests, and were her retirig o th plate would be a physical impossibiity. Having laid in the material for a bo of punch, to be Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 563 compounded by Mr. Micawber; having provided a bottl of laveder-water, tw wax-candles, a paper of mixed pins, and a pincushion, to assist Mrs. Miawber in her toilette at my drengtabl; having al causd the fire in my bedroom to be lighted for Mrs. Micawber’s conveience; and having laid th clth with my own hands, I awaited the result with coposure. At th appoited time, my thre visitors arrived togethr. Mr. Micawber wth more shirt-coar than usual, and a ne ribbon to is eye-glass; Mrs. Miawber with her cap in a whitey-bro paper parc; Traddl carrying th parc, and supporting Mrs Micawber on his arm. Thy were all delighted with my residen Whe I conducted Mrs. Micawber to my dresing-table, and she saw th scal on which it was prepared for her, she was in such rapture, that she calld Mr. Miawber to come in and look. ‘My dear Copperfield,’ said Mr. Miawber, ‘ths is luxurius. This is a way of life wh reminds me of th perid w I was myself in a state of celibacy, and Mrs. Micawber had not yet be solicited to plight her faith at th Hymeneal altar.’ ‘He means, solicited by him, Mr. Copperfield,’ said Mrs Micawber, archly. ‘He cannot answer for othrs.’ ‘My dear,’ returned Mr. Micawber with sudde sriousn, ‘I have no desre to answer for othrs I am to wll aware that wen, in the inrutable derees of Fate, you wre rerved for me, it is possible you may have be rerved for o, destid, after a protracted struggl, at length to fal a victim to pecunary involvets of a complicated nature I understand your allus, my love. I regret it, but I can bear it.’ ‘Micawber!’ exclaimed Mrs. Micawber, in tears. ‘Have I derved this! I, who never have derted you; who never WILL Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 564 desert you, Micawber!’ ‘My lve,’ said Mr. Miawber, much affected, ‘you wi forgive, and our old and tried friend Copperfid wi, I am sure, forgive, th momentary lacerati of a wounded spirit, made sensitive by a recent colision with th Mi of Por—in othr wrds, wth a ribald Turnck attacd to the water-works—and will pity, nt condemn, its excesses’ Mr. Miawber then embraced Mrs. Miawber, and presd my hand; leaving me to infer fro this broke allusion that hi domestic supply of water had be cut off that aftern, in cquence of default in the paymet of the copany’s rates To divert hi thoughts from this meanholy subjet, I iformed Mr. Micawber that I relied upo him for a bowl of punh, and led hm to th lemons. His recent despodency, not to say despair, was go in a moment. I never saw a man so throughly ejoy hielf amd the fragrane of l-peel and sugar, the odour of burnig rum, and the steam of bog water, as Mr. Micawber did that afternoon. It was wonderful to se hi face shg at us out of a thin cud of th delicate fumes, as he stirred, and mixed, and tasted, and looked as if he were makig, intead of punh, a fortun for his family dow to th latest posterity. As to Mrs Micawber, I don’t know whthr it was th effect of th cap, or th aveder-water, or the pi, or the fire, or the wax-candl, but s came out of my ro, comparatively speakig, lovey. Ad the lark was never gayer than that exct woman I suppose—I never ventured to iquire, but I suppose—that Mrs Crupp, after frying th soles, was taken i Becaus w broke down at that pot. The leg of mutton cam up very red within, and very pale withut: besdes having a foreign substance of a Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 565 gritty nature sprinkld over it, as if it had had a fall into th ashe of that remarkabl kitchen fireplac But we were nt i cditi to judge of this fact fro th appearance of th gravy, forasmuc as the ‘young gal’ had dropped it al upon the stairs—where it remaid, by the by, in a lg train, until it was worn out. The pigen-pie was not bad, but it was a delusive pi: th crust beg like a diappoiting head, phrenologically speaking: full of lumps and bumps, with nthing particular undernath. In short, the banquet was such a failure that I should have be quite unhappy—about the faiure, I man, for I was alays unhappy about Dora—if I had nt be relieved by the great good humour of my company, and by a bright suggestion fro Mr. Micawber. ‘My dear friend Copperfield,’ said Mr. Micawber, ‘accidents w occur i the bet-regulated fam; and in fam not regulated by that pervading influe which santifi wh it eances the—a—I would say, in short, by the influence of Woan, in the lofty character of Wife, thy may be expected with confidence, and must be borne with phosophy. If you will allw me to take the liberty of remarking that thre are fe comestibls better, in thr way, than a Devil, and that I beve, with a little divison of labour, w could accomplish a god on if th young pers in attedance could produc a gridiro, I would put it to you, that this littl misfortune may be easly repaired.’ Thre was a gridiro in th pantry, on which my morning rasher of bacon was cooked. We had it in, in a twklg, and immediatey applied oursve to carrying Mr. Miawber’s idea ito effect. The divison of labour to whic he had referred was this:—Traddles cut th mutton into slices; Mr. Miawber (w uld do anythng of this sort to perfeti) covered th wth Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 566 pepper, mustard, salt, and caye; I put th o th gridiro, turned them with a fork, and took them off, under Mr. Micawber’s direction; and Mrs. Micawber heated, and continually stirred, some mushro ketcup in a littl saucpan. Whe we had sl ough do to begin upo, we fell-to, with our sve sti tucked up at th wrist, more slices sputtering and blazing on th fire, and our attenti divided betwee the mutton on our plate, and the mutton then preparig. What with the novety of th cookery, the excee of it, th bustl of it, the frequent starting up to look after it, the frequent sitting dow to dispose of it as th crisp slices came off th gridiro hot and hot, th beg so busy, so flusd wth th fire, so amusd, and in th midst of such a tempting noise and savour, we reducd the leg of mutton to the bo My own appetite cam back mraculusly. I am asamd to recrd it, but I realy beve I forgot Dora for a little whil I am satisfid that Mr. and Mrs. Micawber could not have enjoyed th feast more, if thy had sold a bed to provide it. Traddl laughed as heartily, alt the whole time, as he ate and worked. Indeed we all did, all at once; and I dare say there was never a greater suc We were at the height of our enjoyment, and were al busy egaged, in our several departments, endeavouring to bring th ast batch of sl to a state of perfection that should crown the feast, wh I was aware of a strange prece in th ro, and my eyes encuntered those of the staid Littir, standig hat in hand before me. ‘What’s the matter?’ I involuntariy asked. ‘I beg your pardo, sir, I was directed to come in. Is my master not here, sir?’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 567 ‘No’ ‘Have you not seen him, sir?’ ‘No; do’t you co from him?’ ‘Not immediatey so, sir.’ ‘Did he tell you you would find him here?’ ‘Not exactly so, sir. But I should think he mght be here tomorrow, as he has not been here today.’ ‘Is he comg up fro Oxford?’ ‘I beg, sir,’ he returned repectfuly, ‘that you wi be seated, and allw me to do this’ With whic he took the fork from my unresistig hand, and bent over th gridiro, as if hs w attention were contrated on it. We should not have be much discomposed, I dare say, by th appearance of Sterforth hmself, but we became in a moment th ket of the mek before his respetabl serving-man Mr. Micawber, hummg a tun, to show that he was quite at eas, subsded into hi chair, with th handle of a hastily concealed fork sticking out of th bosom of his coat, as if h had stabbed hf. Mrs. Micawber put on her brown gloves, and asumd a genteel languor. Traddles ran his greasy hands through his hair, and stod it bolt upright, and stared in confusion on th tabl-cth As for me, I was a mere infant at th head of my own tabl; and hardly ventured to glance at th respectable phe, wh had come from Heave knows where, to put my establt to rights. Meanwhil he took the mutton off the gridiron, and gravey handed it round. We al took s, but our appreciation of it was go, and w merely made a sho of eating it. As we severaly pused away our plates, he noeley reved them, and st on the ceese. He took that off, too, when it was do with; cleared Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 568 the table; pid everythig on the dumb-waiter; gave us our wglasses; and, of his own accord, wd th dumb-waiter into th pantry. All th was done in a perfet manner, and h never raised hi eyes from what he was about. Yet hi very elbows, when he had his back toards me, seemed to teem with the expres of his fixed opinion that I was extrey young. ‘Can I do anythng more, sir?’ I thanked hi and said, No; but would he take n dinr hielf? ‘Noe, I am oblged to you, sir.’ ‘Is Mr. Steerforth cog from Oxford?’ ‘I beg your pardo, sir?’ ‘Is Mr. Steerforth cog from Oxford?’ ‘I should iagi that he mght be here tomorrow, sr. I rather thought he mght have be here today, sr. The mitake is m, no doubt, sir.’ ‘If you should see him first—’ said I. ‘If you’ll excuse me, sir, I don’t thk I shall se hi first.’ ‘In case you do,’ said I, ‘pray say that I am sorry h was nt hre today, as an old shoolfelw of his was here.’ ‘Indeed, sir!’ and he divided a bow betw me and Traddl, with a glanc at the latter. He was mving sftly to the door, when, in a forlorn hope of saying something naturally—which I never could, to this man—I said: ‘Oh! Littimer!’ ‘Sir!’ ‘Did you remain lg at Yarmuth, that time?’ ‘Not particularly so, sir.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 569 ‘You saw the boat completed?’ ‘Yes, sir. I reaid bed on purpose to see the boat completed.’ ‘I know!’ He raised his eye to mine respectfuly. ‘Mr. Sterforth has not see it yet, I suppose?’ ‘I really can’t say, sir. I thk—but I really can’t say, sir. I wish you good night, sir.’ He cprehended everybody prest, in the repetful bo th wich h followd th words, and disappeared. My visitors eemed to breathe mre freely when he was go; but my own relf was very great, for bede the ctrait, arig from that extraordinary sense of beig at a disadvantage which I alays had in this man’s prece, my conscience had embarrassed me wth ispers that I had mistrusted his master, and I could not repre a vague uneasy dread that he might find it out. How was it, having s little in reality to coal, that I always DID fee as if this man were findig me out? Mr. Micawber roused m from this refltion, whic was blded wth a certain remorsful appresion of seeng Steerforth hielf, by betowig many encums on the abst Littimr as a mot respetabl felw, and a thoroughly admrabl rvant. Mr. Micawber, I may remark, had take his full share of th geral bo, and had received it with infinite condescension. ‘But pun, my dear Copperfield,’ said Mr. Micawber, tastig it, ‘like time and tide, waits for no man. Ah! it is at th pret moment in high flavour. My love, wi you give me your opiion?’ Mrs. Miawber pronounced it exceent. ‘Thn I w drik,’ said Mr. Micawber, ‘if my friend Copperfield wil permit me to take that soal liberty, to the days when my Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 570 frid Copperfield and mysf were younger, and fought our way in th world side by side. I may say, of myself and Cpperfid, i words we have sung together before now, that “We twa hae run about the brae And pu’d th goans’ fi” —in a figurative poit of vi—on several ocasions. I am not exactly aware,’ said Mr. Micawber, with th od roll in his voice, and the old inderibabl air of saying sothing gente, ‘what gowan may be, but I have n doubt that Copperfied and mysf wuld frequetly have take a pul at them, if it had been feasbl.’ Mr. Miawber, at the then present mt, took a pul at hi punch. So we all did: Traddl evidetly lost in wonderig at wat distant time Mr. Micawber and I could have be comrades in th battle of the world. ‘Ahem!’ said Mr. Micawber, claring his throat, and warmig with the punh and with the fire. ‘My dear, another glass?’ Mrs. Micawber said it must be very littl; but w couldn’t allow that, so it was a glassful ‘As we are quite cofidential here, Mr. Copperfield,’ said Mrs Micawber, sipping hr punch, ‘Mr. Traddl being a part of our domesticity, I should much like to have your opinion o Mr. Micawber’s prospects. For corn,’ said Mrs. Miawber argumentativey, ‘as I have repeatedly said to Mr. Miawber, may be gentlany, but it is not remunrative. Coon to the extent of two and npence in a fortnight cannot, however lted our ideas, be considered remunerative.’ We were all agred upo that. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 571 ‘Thn,’ said Mrs Micawber, wh prided hersf on taking a cear view of thgs, and keepig Mr. Miawber straight by her woman’s wisdo, when he mght otherwis go a little crooked, ‘then I ask mysf this questio If crn is not to be reld upon, wat is? Are coals to be relied upo? Not at al We have turnd our attenti to that experimt, on the suggesti of my famy, and we find it falacious.’ Mr. Micawber, leang back in his chair with his hands in hi pockets, eyed us aside, and nodded his had, as much as to say that th case was very clearly put. ‘Th articles of corn and coals,’ said Mrs. Micawber, still more argumtatively, ‘being equaly out of the question, Mr. pperfield, I naturaly look round the world, and say, “What is thre in which a pers of Mr. Miawber’s talent is likely to succeed?” Ad I exclude th doing anythng o commission, becaus comssion is not a certainty. What is best suited to a pers of Mr. Miawber’s pecular teperament is, I am nvinced, a certainty.’ Traddl and I both expred, by a feeg murmur, that this great discovery was no doubt true of Mr. Micawber, and that it did hm much credit. ‘I w not conceal fro you, my dear Mr. Copperfield,’ said Mrs Micawber, ‘that I have long felt th Breing business to be particularly adapted to Mr. Micawber. Look at Barclay and Perkins! Lok at Truman, Hanbury, and Buxton! It is on that extensve footing that Mr. Micawber, I know from my own knowledge of him, is calulated to shi; and th profits, I am told, are e-nor-mous! But if Mr. Micawber cannot get into th firms— wich decline to answer his letters, wh he offers his services Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 572 even in an inferior capacty—wat is the use of dwellg upon that idea? None. I may have a conviction that Mr. Miawber’s manners—’ ‘Hem! Realy, my dear,’ interpoed Mr. Micawber. ‘My love, be silt,’ said Mrs. Micawber, layig hr bro glve on hi hand. ‘I may have a covition, Mr. Copperfield, that Mr. Micawber’s manrs peculiarly qualify hm for th Banking business. I may argue within myself, that if I had a depost at a bankig-house, the manrs of Mr. Micawber, as repreting that bankig-huse, wuld inspire confidence, and must extend th connexi. But if th varius banking-huses refuse to avai thlve of Mr. Miawber’s abilities, or receive th offer of th that idea? No th cotumely, what is the use of dwellg upon to origiatig a bankig-bus, I may know that there are bers of my famy who, if they chose to plac their my i Mr. Micawber’s hands, mght found an establhmet of that description. But if thy do not choose to place their my in Mr. Micawber’s hands—wh thy don’t—wat is th us of that? Again I conted that we are no farthr advanced than w wre before’ I shook my head, and said, ‘Not a bit.’ Traddl al shook hi ad, and said, ‘Not a bit.’ ‘What do I deduce fro this?’ Mrs. Miawber went on to say, still with th same air of putting a case lucidly. ‘What is th nclusion, my dear Mr. Copperfield, to which I am irresistibly brought? Am I wrog in saying, it is clear that we must live?’ I answered ‘Not at all!’ and Traddl answered ‘Not at all!’ and I found myself afterwards sagely adding, al, that a pers must either live or die. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 573 ‘Just so,’ returned Mrs. Miawber, ‘It is precisely that. Ad th fact is, my dear Mr. Copperfield, that we can not live wthut something widely different fro existig circumtances shortly turning up. Now I am conviced, myself, and this I have pointed out to Mr. Micawber several tim of late, that things cant be xpected to turn up of thlve. We must, in a measure, assist to turn them up. I may be wrong, but I have formed that opi’ Both Traddles and I applauded it highly. ‘Very we,’ said Mrs. Miawber. ‘Th wat do I reend? Here is Mr. Micawber with a varity of qualificatis—with great talent—’ ‘Realy, my lve,’ said Mr. Micawber. ‘Pray, my dear, alw me to coude Here is Mr. Micawber, I should say, with a variety of qualfiatins, with great talt— with genus, but that may be the partialty of a wife—’ Traddles and I both murmured ‘No.’ ‘And here is Mr. Micawber withut any suitable position or employmt. Where do that repobity ret? Clearly on society. Th I would make a fact so disgraceful known, and boldly challenge socty to set it right. It appears to me, my dear Mr. Copperfied,’ said Mrs. Micawber, forcibly, ‘that what Mr. Micawber has to do, is to throw down the gauntlet to sty, and say, in effect, “Show me who wil take that up. Let the party immediatey step forward.”’ I vetured to ask Mrs. Miawber ho this was to be don ‘By advertising,’ said Mrs. Micawber—‘in all th papers. It appears to me, that what Mr. Miawber has to do, in justice to mself, in justice to hi famy, and I wi even go so far as to say i justice to society, by which he has be hithrto overlooked, is to Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 574 advertise in all th papers; to describe himself plainly as so-and-s, wth such and such qualifiations and to put it thus: “ Now employ me, on remunerative term, and addres, post-paid, to W. M., Post Office, Camden To.”’ ‘This idea of Mrs. Miawber’s, my dear Copperfield,’ said Mr. Micawber, making his shirt-collar meet in frot of his chi, and glancing at me sideways, ‘is, in fact, th Leap to which I alluded, w I last had th pleasure of seeng you.’ ‘Advertising is rathr expensive,’ I rearked, dubiusly. ‘Exactly so!’ said Mrs. Micawber, prerving th same logical air. ‘Quite true, my dear Mr. Copperfid! I have made th identical observation to Mr. Micawber. It is for that reason specially, that I thk Mr. Miawber ought (as I have already said, in justice to himself, in justice to his family, and in justice to society) to raise a certain sum of money—o a bill.’ Mr. Micawber, leang back in his chair, trifled wth his eyeglas and cast his eye up at the ceg; but I thought hi obsrvant of Traddl, too, who was lookig at the fire. ‘If n member of my famy,’ said Mrs. Micawber, ‘is possessed of sufficient natural feing to negotiate that bill—I believe thre is a better busss-term to express what I mean—’ Mr. Micawber, with his eye still cast up at th ceiling, suggested ‘Discount.’ ‘To discount that bill,’ said Mrs. Micawber, ‘thn my opinion i, that Mr. Micawber should go into the Cty, should take that bi to the Money Market, and should dipose of it for what he can get. If the idividual i the Money Market oblige Mr. Micawber to sustain a great sacrifice, that is betw thlve and thr conscices. I vi it, steadily, as an investment. I remmend Mr. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 575 Miawber, my dear Mr. Copperfield, to do the sam; to regard it as an investment which is sure of return, and to make up his mind to any sacrifi’ I felt, but I am sure I don’t kn why, that this was self-deying and devoted in Mrs. Micawber, and I uttered a murmur to that effect. Traddl, who took his tone from me, did lkewis, sti ookig at the fire. ‘I w nt,’ said Mrs. Miawber, finshing her pun, and gathering her scarf about her shoulders, preparatory to her withdrawal to my bedroom: ‘I will not protract thes remarks o th subjet of Mr. Micawber’s pecuniary affairs. At your fireside, my dear Mr. Copperfild, and in th prece of Mr. Traddl, who, though not so old a friend, is quite one of ourselves, I culd not refrain fro making you acquainted with th course I advise Mr. Micawber to take I fee that the tim is arrived when Mr. Miawber should exert himelf and—I w add—asrt hielf, and it appears to me that th are th means. I am aware that I am merely a female, and that a mascul judget is usualy cdered mre copetet to the diuss of suc questions; still I must not forget that, wh I lived at ho with my papa and mama, my papa was in the habit of sayig, “Emma’s form is fragile, but hr grasp of a subjet is inferir to none” That my papa was too partial, I well know; but that he was an obsrver of character in some degre, my duty and my reason equally forbid me to doubt.’ With thes words, and restig our etreatie that s would grac the remaig circulatio of the punh with her pre, Mrs. Micawber retired to my bedroom. And realy I felt that s was a nble woman—the srt of woman who might have be a Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 576 Roman matro, and don all manner of heroic thgs, in times of public troubl In th fervour of this impresion, I congratulated Mr. Miawber on the treasure he poed. So did Traddl. Mr. Miawber extended hs hand to each of us in succesion, and th covered his face with his pocket-handkerchief, which I think had more snuff upo it than he was aware of. He then returned to the pun, i the hight state of exhilarati He was ful of elque He gave us to understand that i our childre w lved agai, and that, under th presure of pecunary difficulties, any accession to thr number was doubly wlcom He said that Mrs. Micawber had latterly had her doubts on this point, but that h had dispelled th, and reassured her. As to her famy, they were totaly unworthy of her, and their setits were utterly indifferent to him, and they mght—I quote hi own expression—go to th Devi Mr. Micawber then delivered a warm eulgy on Traddl He said Traddl’s was a character, to th steady virtues of which he (Mr. Micawber) could lay no cai, but whic, he thanked Heave, h could admire. He feingly alluded to th young lady, unknn, whom Traddl had honoured with his affecti, and who had reciproated that affection by huring and blsing Traddl with her affecti Mr. Micawber pldged her. So did I. Traddl thanked us both, by saying, with a splty and honety I had s enough to be quite charmd with, ‘I am very muc oblged to you indeed. And I do assure you, she’s th dearet girl!—’ Mr. Micawber took an early opportunity, after that, of hintig, my wth th utmost delicacy and ceremony, at th state of affections. Nothing but th serius assurance of hs friend Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 577 Cpperfield to th contrary, he observed, could deprive him of th impresion that his friend Copperfid loved and was beloved. After feeg very hot and uncfortable for so tim, and after a god deal of blusng, stammering, and denying, I said, having my glass in my hand, ‘Well! I would give th D.!’ wich so excited and gratified Mr. Micawber, that he ran with a glass of punch ito my bedro, in order that Mrs. Micawber might drink D., wh drank it with enthusasm, crying fro with, in a shri voice, ‘Hear, hear! My dear Mr. Copperfield, I am delighted. Hear!’ and tappig at the wal, by way of applaus Our coversatio, afterwards, took a more worldly turn; Mr. Micawber tellg us that he found Camde Town invet, and that the first thing he coteplated dog, when the advertisement should have be th caus of somethg satisfactory turning up, was to move. He mentioned a terrace at the wetern end of Oxford Street, frontig Hyde Park, on w he had always had hi eye, but whic he did nt expet to attai diatey, as it would require a large establit. There uld probably be an interval, he explained, in which he should contet hf wth th upper part of a house, over some respectable place of business—say in Piccadilly,—which would be a cheerful situati for Mrs. Miawber; and where, by throg out a bow-window, or carrying up the roof another story, or makig s lttle alteration of that sort, they might live, comfortably and reputably, for a fe years. Whatever was rerved for hi, he expresy said, or wherever his abode mght be, we might rely on this—there would always be a room for Traddles, and a knife and fork for m We acknowledged h kindness; and he begged us to forgive his having launched into Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 578 th practial and business-like detais, and to excuse it as natural in on wh was making entirely ne arrangets in life Mrs. Micawber, tapping at th wall again to kn if tea were ready, broke up this particular phas of our friendly conversati She made tea for us i a mot agreeable manr; and, whenever I went near her, i handig about the tea-cups and bread-andbutter, asked me, in a whisper, whthr D. was fair, or dark, or whether se was short, or tal: or sothing of that kid; whic I think I liked. After tea, we discusd a varity of topics before th fire; and Mrs. Micawber was good enough to sig us (in a smal, thin, flat voice, wich I remembered to have considered, wh I first knew her, the very table-beer of acousti) the favourite balads of ‘Th Dashig White Sergeant’, and ‘Little Taffl’. For both of the sogs Mrs. Miawber had been famus wen s lived at ho with her papa and mama. Mr. Micawber told us, that when he heard her sg the first one, on the first occas of his eeing her beneath the parental roof, she had attracted hi attenti in an extraordiary degree; but that when it cam to Little Taffli, he had resved to win that woman or peris in the attempt. It was between te and eleven o’cock when Mrs. Miawber ro to replace her cap in th whitey-bro paper parc, and to put on her bonnet. Mr. Micawber took the opportunity of Traddl putting on his great-coat, to slp a ltter into my hand, with a wispered requet that I would read it at my leisure I also tok the opportunity of my holdig a candl over the banters to light them down, when Mr. Micawber was going first, ladig Mrs. Micawber, and Traddl was folwing with the cap, to detain Traddl for a mt on the top of the stairs. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 579 ‘Traddl,’ said I, ‘Mr. Micawber do’t man any harm, poor fell: but, if I were you, I wouldn’t led him anythg.’ ‘My dear Copperfield,’ returnd Traddles, smiling, ‘I have’t got anythng to lend.’ ‘You have got a name, you kn,’ said I. ‘Oh! You cal that sothing to lend?’ returned Traddl, with a thoughtful look. ‘Certaiy.’ ‘Oh!’ said Traddles. ‘Ye, to be sure! I am very much oblged to you, Copperfield; but—I am afraid I have lent hi that already.’ ‘For the bi that is to be a certai investmt?’ I inquired. ‘No,’ said Traddl ‘Not for that one This is the first I have hard of that on I have bee thking that h wll most lkely propose that one, on the way home. Min’s another.’ ‘I hope there wil be nothing wrong about it,’ said I. ‘I hope not,’ said Traddl ‘I should think nt, though, beause he told me, only th othr day, that it was provided for. That was Mr. Micawber’s expressi, “Provided for.”’ Mr. Micawber lookig up at this junture to where we were standing, I had only time to repeat my caution. Traddl thanked me, and desceded. But I was much afraid, w I observed th god-natured manr in which he went dow with th cap i h and, and gave Mrs. Micawber his arm, that h wuld be carrid ito the Moy Market nek and heels I returnd to my fireside, and was musing, half gravey and half laughing, o the caracter of Mr. Micawber and the old relatio betw us, wh I hard a quick step ascendig th stairs At first, I thought it was Traddl cog back for sothing Mrs. Micawber had left bend; but as th step approached, I kn it, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 580 and felt my heart beat high, and the blood rush to my fac, for it was Sterforth’s. I was never unmindful of Agnes, and she never left that sanctuary in my thughts—if I may cal it so—whre I had placd her from the first. But when he entered, and stood before me with hi hand out, the darkn that had fall on him changed to light, and I felt cofounded and ashamd of having doubted one I loved s heartily. I lved her n the le; I thought of her as the sam bengnant, gentle angel in my life; I reproached myself, not hr, wth having done him an injury; and I would have made him any atonemet if I had known what to make, and how to make it. ‘Why, Daisy, od boy, dumb-foundered!’ laughd Sterforth, shaking my hand heartily, and throng it gaily away. ‘Have I detected you in another feast, you Sybarite! Thes Dotors’ Comm fellows are the gayet me in to, I beeve, and beat us sober Oxford people al to nothing!’ His bright glance wnt mrrily round the room, as he took the seat on the sofa oppote to m, whic Mrs. Micawber had rectly vacated, and stirred the fire into a blaze. ‘I was so surprised at first,’ said I, giving hi welcom with all the cordiality I felt, ‘that I had hardly breath to greet you with, Steerforth.’ ‘Well, the sight of m is good for sore eyes, as the Scotc say,’ replied Sterforth, ‘and so is th sight of you, Daisy, in ful bl How are you, my Bacanal?’ ‘I am very we,’ said I; ‘and not at all Bacchanalan toght, though I cofes to another party of three.’ ‘All of w I met in th stret, talking loud in your praise,’ returned Sterforth. ‘Who’s our fried in the tights?’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 581 I gave him th best idea I could, in a fe wrds, of Mr. Micawber. He laughd hartily at my feble portrait of that gentleman, and said he was a man to know, and he must know m. ‘But wh do you suppose our othr friend is?’ said I, i my turn. ‘Heaven knows,’ said Steerforth. ‘Not a bore, I hope? I thought he looked a little like one.’ ‘Traddles!’ I replied, triumphantly. ‘Who’s he?’ asked Sterforth, in his careless way. ‘Don’t you remeber Traddl? Traddl in our room at Sal House?’ ‘Oh! That fellw!’ said Steerforth, beatig a lump of cal on the top of the fire, with the poker. ‘Is he as sft as ever? And were th deuc did you pick hi up?’ I extolld Traddl i reply, as highly as I could; for I felt that Steerforth rather sghted him Steerforth, dig the subject with a lght nd, and a sm, and the remark that he would be glad to see the old felw too, for he had always been an odd fis, inquired if I could give him anythng to eat? During most of this short dialogue, when he had nt be speakig i a wild vivacous manr, he had sat idly beatig on the lump of coal with the poker. I observed that he did the sam thing whil I was getting out th remains of th pige-pie, and so forth ‘Why, Daisy, here’s a supper for a king!’ h exclaimed, starting out of his si with a burst, and takig his seat at the table ‘I shall do it justice, for I have come fro Yarmuth.’ ‘I thought you cam from Oxford?’ I returned. ‘Not I,’ said Steerforth ‘I have been seafaring—better employed.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 582 ‘Littimr was here today, to inquire for you,’ I remarked, ‘and I understood him that you were at Oxford; though, now I think of it, h certainly did not say so.’ ‘Littimr is a greater fool than I thought him, to have be inquiring for me at al,’ said Sterforth, jovially pouring out a glas f wi, and drinking to me. ‘As to understanding hm, you are a cleverer fell than most of us, Daiy, if you can do that.’ ‘That’s true, inded,’ said I, mving my chair to the table ‘So you have been at Yarmouth, Steerforth!’ intereted to know al about it. ‘Have you been there log?’ ‘No,’ he returned. ‘A escapade of a week or so’ ‘And h are thy all? Of course, littl Emy is not marrid yet?’ ‘Not yet. Going to be, I believe—i so many wks, or month, or sthing or other. I have nt seen muc of ’e By the by’; he laid down hi knfe and fork, which he had be usig with great diligen, and began feeg in his pokets; ‘I have a letter for you.’ ‘From whom?’ ‘Why, from your old nurse,’ he returned, takig so papers out of his breast pocket. “‘J. Sterforth, Esquire, debtor, to Th Wig Mind”; that’s nt it. Patie, and we’l find it pretly. Old what’s-his-name’s in a bad way, and it’s about that, I beeve.’ ‘Barkis, do you mean?’ ‘Ye!’ still feing in his pockets, and looking over thr contets: ‘it’s all over with poor Barkis, I am afraid. I saw a littl apothecary there—surgeon, or whatever he i—who brought your worship ito the world. He was mighty learnd about the cas, to me; but th upshot of his opinion was, that th carrir was making his last journey rathr fast.—Put your hand into th breast pocket Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 583 of my great-coat on the chair yonder, and I think you’ll find the ltter. Is it there?’ ‘Here it is!’ said I. ‘That’s right!’ It was from Peggotty; sthing le legibl than usual, and brif. It iformed m of her husband’s hope state, and hinted at his being ‘a littl nearer’ than heretofore, and consequently mre difficult to manage for his own cofort. It said nthing of her warines and watcng, and praised him highly. It was writte with a plain, unaffected, homey pity that I kn to be genui, and ended with ‘my duty to my ever darlg’—maning myself. While I deciphered it, Sterforth continued to eat and drik. ‘It’s a bad job,’ he said, wh I had done; ‘but th sun sets every day, and people die every minute, and we mustn’t be sared by th lot. If we faid to hold our own, beause that equal foot at all men’s doors was heard knocking somewre, every object in this world would slp from us. No! Ride on! Rough-shod if nd be, sooth-shod if that wil do, but ride on! Ride on over al obstac, and win th race!’ ‘And wi what race?’ said I. ‘Th race that on has started in,’ said he. ‘Ride on!’ I nticd, I remeber, as he paused, lookig at me with his andsome head a littl thro back, and his glass raid in h hand, that, though the freshnes of the sea-wind was on his fac, and it was ruddy, thre were traces in it, made since I last saw it, as if he had appld hielf to so habitual strai of the fervent ergy which, wh rousd, was so passionately rousd wth I had it in my thoughts to remotrate with him upon his deperate way of pursuig any fany that he took—such as this Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 584 buffeting of rough sas, and bravig of hard weather, for example—when my md gland off to the imdiate subject of our conversati again, and pursued that instead. ‘I tell you what, Sterforth,’ said I, ‘if your hgh spirits w liste to me—’ ‘Thy are potent spirits, and will do whatever you like,’ he anered, movig from the tabl to the firede agai ‘Th I te you what, Steerforth I thk I wi go do and see my old nurse. It is not that I can do her any good, or render her any real service; but she is so attached to me that my visit w ave as much effect on her, as if I could do both. She w take it so kindly that it wll be a comfort and support to her. It is no great effort to make, I am sure, for such a friend as she has be to me. Wouldn’t you go a day’s journy, if you were in my plac?’ His fac was thoughtful, and he sat considerig a little before he answered, in a l voice, ‘Wel! Go. You can do no harm.’ ‘You have just come back,’ said I, ‘and it would be in vain to ask you to go with me?’ ‘Quite,’ he returned. ‘I am for Highgate tonight. I have not se my mothr this long time, and it lies upo my coce, for it’s something to be loved as she loves her prodigal son.—Bah! Nonsen!—You mean to go tomorro, I suppose?’ he said, holdig m out at arm’s lgth, with a hand on eac of my shoulders. ‘Yes, I thk so.’ ‘We, then, do’t go till nxt day. I wanted you to c and stay a few days with us Here I am, on purpose to bid you, and you fly off to Yarmouth!’ ‘You are a n felw to talk of flying off, Steerforth, who are Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 585 always rung wild on so unknown expeditio or other!’ He looked at me for a moment withut speaking, and th rejoined, sti hodig me as before, and givig me a shake: ‘Co! Say th next day, and pass as much of tomorro as you can wth us! Who knows wen we may meet agai, els? Come! Say th next day! I want you to stand betw Roa Dartl and me, and keep us asunder.’ ‘Would you love eac other too muc, without me?’ ‘Yes; or hate,’ laughed Steerforth; ‘no matter whic Come! Say the next day!’ I said the nxt day; and he put on his great-coat and lighted his cigar, and set off to walk hme. Fidig hm in this intention, I put on my own great-coat (but did nt light my own cigar, having had enough of that for one while) and walked with him as far as the ope road: a dul road, th, at night. He was in great spirits all the way; and when we parted, and I looked after hi gog s galantly and airily homeward, I thought of hi saying, ‘Ride on over al obstac, and wi the rac!’ and wied, for the first ti, that he had so worthy rac to run. I was undreg in my own room, when Mr. Micawber’s letter tumbld on the floor. Thus reminded of it, I broke the seal and read as fos. It was dated an hour and a half before dinner. I am t sure whether I have metid that, when Mr. Micawber was at any particularly desperate crisis, he usd a sort of legal phrasegy, which he seed to thk equivalent to wnding up his affairs. ‘SIR—for I dare not say my dear Copperfield, ‘It is expedient that I should inform you that th undersigned is Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 586 Crusd. Some flkering efforts to spare you th preature knowledge of his calamtous positi, you may observe in him this day; but hope has sunk beath the horizo, and the undersignd is Crusd. ‘Th pret comunicati is penned within th persal range (I cant call it th society) of an individual, in a state osey bordering on itoxication, employed by a broker. That individual is in legal possesion of th preises, under a distress for rent. His inventory include, not only th chattels and effects of every description belonging to th undersigned, as yearly teant of this habitation, but als those appertaig to Mr. Thomas Traddles, lodger, a member of th Honourable Society of th Inner Templ ‘If any drop of gloom were wantig in the overflowing cup, wich is now “cmmended” (in th language of an immortal Writer) to th lips of th undersigned, it wuld be found i th fact, that a friedly acptanc granted to the undersignd, by the £23l 4s. before-metioned Mr. Thomas Traddl, for the sum of 9½d. is over due, and i not provided for. Also, in th fact that th living repobiliti cging to th undersigned wi, in th urse of nature, be inreasd by the sum of one mre helpl victim; wh miserabl appearance may be looked for—i round numbers—at th expiration of a perid not exceeding six lunar mths from the pret date. ‘After preising thus much, it would be a work of supererogation to add, that dust and ashes are for ever scattered ‘On ‘Th ‘Head Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 587 ‘Of ‘WILKINS MICAWBER.’ Poor Traddl! I kn enough of Mr. Micawber by this tim, to foreee that he might be expeted to recver the blow; but my nght’s rest was srely ditresd by thoughts of Traddl, and of the curate’s daughter, who was one of ten, down in Devonsre, and wh was such a dear girl, and w wuld wait for Traddles (ominous praise!) until she was sixty, or any age that could be mentioned. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 588 Chapter 29 I VISIT STEERFORTH AT HIS HOME, AGAIN I mentioned to Mr. Spenlow in th morning, that I wanted lave of abs for a short tim; and as I was not i the receipt of any salary, and consequently was not obnoxius to th implacable Jorkins, thre was no difficulty about it. I tok that opportunity, wth my voice sticking in my throat, and my sight failing as I uttered th words, to express my hope that Miss Spew was quite well; to whic Mr. Spew repld, with n re emotio than if he had been speakig of an ordiary human beg, that he was muc obliged to me, and s was very wel We articd crks, as germs of the patrican order of proctors, wre treated wth so much conideration, that I was almost my own master at al tim A I did not care, however, to get to Highgate before one or two o’cock in the day, and as we had another little excunation cas in court that mornig, whic as cald Th office of th judge proted by Tipkis against Bullock for his soul’s correction, I pasd an hour or tw in attendanc on it with Mr. Spew very agreeably. It arose out of a suffle between two churcardens, one of whom was alged to ave pushed th othr against a pump; th handle of wich pump projecting ito a school-house, whic shool-house was under a gabl of th church-rof, made th push an ecclesastical offence. It was an amusig cas; and set me up to Highgate, on the box of th stage-coach, thinking about th Commons, and what Mr. Spenlow had said about touchig the Commons and briging Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 589 down the country. Mrs. Steerforth was pleasd to see m, and so was Roa Dartl I was agreeably surprisd to find that Littimr was nt there, and that we were attended by a modet little parlour-maid, with blue ribbons in her cap, wh eye it was much more pleasant, and much less disconcerting, to catc by accident, than th eye of that respectable man. But what I particularly observed, before I had been half-an-hour in the house, was the close and attetive watc Miss Dartle kept upo me; and th lurkig manner in w she eemed to copare my fac wth Steerforth’s, and Steerforth’s with m, and to l in wait for sothing to co out betwee the two. So surely as I looked towards her, did I se that eager visage, with its gaunt black eye and searching bro, intent o ; or pasg suddenly from mi to Steerforth’s; or compreding both of us at once. In this lynx-lke scrutiny she as so far fro falterig w she saw I observed it, that at such a tim she only fixed her piercig look upon me with a more itent expression still. Blams as I was, and kn that I was, in reference to any wrog she could possibly suspect me of, I shrunk before her strange eyes, quite unabl to endure their hungry lustre day, she seed to pervade the whole house. If I talked to Sterforth in his ro, I heard her dress rustle in th littl galry outside. Wh he and I engaged in so of our old exerci o the lawn bend the house, I saw her fac pas from window to window, like a wanderig light, until it fixed itslf in one, and watched us. Wh we all four went out walkig in the afternoon, she closd her thin hand on my arm like a sprig, to keep me back, while Steerforth and his mother went on out of hearig: and then Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 590 spoke to me. ‘You have been a lg tim,’ she said, ‘wthout cog here. Is your profession really so engaging and interesting as to absorb your w attention? I ask becaus I alays want to be informd, wen I am ignrant. Is it realy, thugh?’ I replied that I liked it we enugh, but that I certainly could not claim so much for it. ‘Oh! I am glad to know that, beause I always like to be put right when I am wrong,’ said Roa Dartle ‘You mean it is a little dry, perhaps?’ ‘Well,’ I replied; ‘perhaps it was a little dry.’ ‘Oh! and that’s a reas why you want relief and change— excitet and al that?’ said she ‘A! very true! But isn’t it a littl—Eh?—for him; I don’t mean you?’ A quik glan of her eye toards the spot where Steerforth as walkig, with his mothr leaning o his arm, shod me whom sh meant; but beyond that, I was quite lot. And I looked so, I have no doubt. ‘Don’t it—I don’t say that it does, mind I want to know—do’t it rathr engross him? Don’t it make hm, perhaps, a lttl more remiss than usual in his vits to his bldly-doting—e?’ With anothr quick glance at th, and such a glance at me as seed to look into my inrmost thoughts. ‘Miss Dartle,’ I returnd, ‘pray do not thk—’ ‘I don’t!’ she said. ‘Oh dear me, don’t suppose that I think anythng! I am not suspicious I only ask a queti. I don’t state any opiion. I want to found an opinion on what you tell me. Th, it’s not so? Wel! I am very glad to kn it.’ ‘It certainly is not th fact,’ said I, perplexed, ‘that I am Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 591 acuntable for Steerforth’s having be away from home lger than usual—if he has be: which I really don’t kn at this moment, unless I understand it fro you. I have not se hm this lg whil, until last night.’ ‘No?’ ‘Indeed, Mi Dartl, no!’ As she looked ful at me, I saw her face gro sharper and paler, and the marks of the old wound lgthen out until it cut through th disfigured lip, and deep into th nethr lip, and slanted dow the fac There was sothing potively awful to m i this, and in th brightness of her eye, as she said, lookig fixedly at me: ‘What is he dog?’ I repeated th wrds, more to myself than her, being so amazed. ‘What is he dog?’ sh said, with an eagerne that sd eugh to consum her like a fire. ‘In wat is that man assistig hi, who never looks at me without an inrutabl falsehood in his eyes? If you are honourable and faithful, I do’t ask you to betray your friend. I ask you only to tell me, is it anger, is it hatred, is it pride, is it restlessness, is it some wild fany, is it love, wat is it, that is leading him?’ ‘Miss Dartle,’ I returnd, ‘ho shall I tell you, so that you wi beeve m, that I know of nothing in Steerforth different from what there was when I first cam here? I can think of nothing. I firmly believe thre is nothing. I hardly understand eve wat you mean.’ As she still stod lookig fixedly at me, a twitching or throbbing, fro which I could not dissociate th idea of pai, came into that cruel mark; and lifted up th cornr of her lip as if wth Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 592 scorn, or with a pity that despised its object. She put hr hand upon it hurriedly—a hand s thin and deate, that when I had seen her hold it up before the fire to shade her fac, I had cpared it i my thoughts to fin porceai—and saying, in a quick, firce, passionate way, ‘I swear you to secrey about this!’ said not a word more. Mrs. Sterforth was particularly happy in her son’s society, and Sterforth was, on this ocasion, particularly attentive and respectful to hr. It was very interestig to me to see th together, not only on acunt of their mutual affectin, but beause of the strog personal reblane between them, and th mannr in which what was haughty or impetuous in him was ftend by age and sx, i her, to a gracus dignity. I thought, more than oce, that it was well no serius caus of division had ever co betwee them; or two suc natures—I ought rather to express it, tw such shades of th same nature—might have be harder to ree than the two extremest oppotes in creati Th idea did not originate in my own discernment, I am bound to fes, but in a spe of Rosa Dartl’s. She said at dinner: ‘Oh, but do tell me, thugh, somebody, becaus I have be thkig about it al day, and I want to kn.’ ‘You want to know what, Roa?’ returned Mrs. Sterforth. ‘Pray, pray, Rosa, do nt be mysterious.’ ‘Mysterius!’ she cried. ‘Oh! really? Do you consider me so?’ ‘Do I cotantly etreat you,’ said Mrs. Steerforth, ‘to speak plaiy, in your own natural manr?’ ‘Oh! then this i not my natural manr?’ sh rejoind. ‘Now you must really bear wth me, becaus I ask for information We Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 593 nver know ourselves.’ ‘It has beme a second nature,’ said Mrs. Sterforth, withut any displeasure; ‘but I remember,—and so must you, I thk,— when your manner was different, Roa; when it was nt so guarded, and was more trustful.’ ‘I am sure you are right,’ sh returned; ‘and so it is that bad habits grow upon on! Realy? Les guarded and mre trustful? How can I, iperceptibly, have changed, I wonder! We, that’s very odd! I must study to regain my formr self.’ ‘I wish you would,’ said Mrs. Steerforth, with a smile. ‘Oh! I realy w, you know!’ she anered. ‘I wi learn frankn from—let m see—from Jam’ ‘You cant learn frankns, Rosa,’ said Mrs. Steerforth quickly—for thre was alays some effect of sarcasm i wat Rosa Dartle said, thugh it was said, as this was, in th most unscious manr in th world—‘in a better sc hool.’ ‘That I am sure of,’ she answered, with un fervour. ‘If I am sure of anythg, of course, you kn, I am sure of that.’ Mrs. Steerforth appeared to me to regret havig been a lttl ttled; for sh pretly said, in a kid ton: ‘Wel, my dear Rosa, we have not heard what it is that you want to be satisfied about?’ ‘That I want to be satisfied about?’ she replied, with provoking cdn ‘Oh! It was only whether peopl, who are lke eac other i their moral cotitution—i that the phras?’ ‘It’s as god a phrase as anthr,’ said Sterforth ‘Thank you:—whether peopl, who are like eac other i their mral ctitution, are i greater danger than people not so circumstanced, supposng any serius caus of variance to ari Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 594 betw th, of beig divided angrily and deeply?’ ‘I should say yes,’ said Steerforth ‘Should you?’ she retorted. ‘Dear me! Supposg then, for instance—any unkely thing wi do for a supposti—that you and your mother were to have a serious quarrel’ ‘My dear Roa,’ interposed Mrs. Steerforth, laughing goodnaturedly, ‘suggest some othr supposti! Jams and I know our duty to eac other better, I pray Heave!’ ‘Oh!’ said Mis Dartle, nddig her head thoughtfully. ‘To be sure. That wuld prevet it? Why, of course it would. Exactly. Now, I am glad I have be so fo as to put th case, for it is so very good to know that your duty to eac other would prevet it! Thank you very much.’ One othr littl circumstance connected with Mi Dartle I must not omit; for I had reason to reber it thereafter, wen al th irremediable past was redered plain. During th wh of this day, but especially fro this perid of it, Sterforth exerted hmself with his utmost skill, and that was wth h utmost eas, to charm this singular creature into a pleasant and pleased companion. That he should sucd, was no matter of surprise to me. That she should struggl against th fascinating influence of hi deghtful art—deghtful nature I thought it then—did nt surprise me ethr; for I knew that she was sometimes jaundiced and pervers I saw her features and her manr slowly change; I saw her look at him with growing admration; I saw her try, more and more faintly, but alays angrily, as if she coded a wakness in hersf, to resist th captivating powr that h possesd; and finally, I saw her sharp glance softe, and her smil become quite gentle, and I ceased to be afraid of her as I had really Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 595 be al day, and we al sat about the fire, talkig and laughing together, with as little rerve as if we had been chdren. Whether it was beause we had sat there so lg, or beause Steerforth was reved nt to lo the advantage he had gaied, I do not kn; but w did not reai in th dining-ro more than five miutes after her departure. ‘She i playig her harp,’ said Sterforth, softly, at th drawing-ro door, ‘and nobody but my mther has heard her do that, I beeve, the three years.’ He said it with a curius smile, which was go directly; and we wnt into the room and found her alone. ‘Don’t get up,’ said Steerforth (wich she had already don)’ my dear Rosa, don’t! Be kid for once, and sig us an Irish song.’ ‘What do you care for an Irih sog?’ sh returned. ‘Much!’ said Steerforth. ‘Much mre than for any other. Here is Daisy, to, loves music fro his soul. Sing us an Irish song, Rosa! and let me sit and liste as I usd to do.’ He did nt touch her, or the chair from whic she had ris, but sat hf near th harp. She stod beside it for some littl wh, i a curious way, going through the mtion of playig it with her right hand, but not soundig it. At lgth sh sat down, and dre it to her with on sudden acti, and played and sang. I don’t know what it was, in her touc or voice, that made that sg the mt unearthly I have ever heard in my lfe, or can imagi Thre was something fearful i th reality of it. It was as f it had nver be written, or set to mus, but sprung out of passion with her; which found imperfet utterance in th low sounds of hr voice, and crouched again wh all was sti I was dumb when she laned bede the harp agai, playig it, but nt sundig it, with her right hand. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 596 A minute more, and this had rousd me fro my trance:— Steerforth had left his seat, and gone to her, and had put hi arm aughingly about her, and had said, ‘Ce, Roa, for the future we wll love each othr very much!’ And she had struck him, and had thrown him off with the fury of a wild cat, and had burst out of the room. ‘What is the matter with Roa?’ said Mrs. Sterforth, cog in ‘She has be an angel, mother,’ returned Steerforth, ‘for a lttle whe; and has run ito the oppote extreme, sie, by way of compensati.’ ‘You should be careful not to irritate her, Jam Her temper has be soured, rember, and ought not to be tried.’ Rosa did not come back; and no othr mention was made of her, until I went with Steerforth into his room to say Good night. Then he laughed about her, and asked m if I had ever se suc a firce littl piece of incomprebiity. I expressed as much of my astoishment as was th capabl of expression, and asked if he could gues what it was that she had taken so much amiss, so suddenly. ‘Oh, Heave knows,’ said Steerforth. ‘Aything you like—or nthing! I told you s took everything, hersef inuded, to a grindsto, and sharpend it. She is an edge-to, and require great care in dealig with. Sh is always dangerous. Good nght!’ ‘Good nght!’ said I, ‘my dear Sterforth! I shall be go before you wake in the morng. Good nght!’ He was unwilg to let m go; and stood, holdig me out, with a hand on eac of my shoulders, as he had do in my own room. ‘Daisy,’ he said, with a smile—‘for thugh that’s not the name your godfathers and godmothers gave you, it’s the nam I lke bet Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 597 to call you by—and I wish, I wish, I wish, you could give it to me!’ ‘Why so I can, if I choose,’ said I. ‘Daisy, if anythng should ever separate us, you must thk of me at my best, old boy. Come! Let us make that bargain. Thk of me at my best, if circumstances should ever part us!’ ‘You have no bet to me, Sterforth,’ said I, ‘and n worst. You are always equaly loved, and cherid in my heart.’ So much compunction for having ever wroged him, eve by a sape thought, did I fee within me, that the cfeon of having done so was rising to my lips. But for th reluctance I had to betray the cofide of Agn, but for my uncrtaity how to approach th subjet with no risk of doing so, it wuld have reached them before he said, ‘God bl you, Daiy, and good night!’ In my doubt, it did not reach them; and we shook hands, and we parted. I was up wth th dul dawn, and, having dressed as quietly as I could, looked into his ro. He was fast asleep; lying, easily, wth head upon his arm, as I had often se him lie at shool. Th time came i its season, and that was very soo, wh I alt wondered that nthing troubld his repo, as I looked at hi But he slpt—lt me think of him s agai—as I had often seen him sleep at school; and thus, in this sent hour, I left him —Never mre, oh God forgive you, Steerforth! to touch that passive hand in love and friendship. Never, never more! Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 598 Chapter 30 A LOSS I got down to Yarmouth in the eveg, and went to the i I kn that Peggotty’s spare room—my room—was likey to have occupatio eough in a little whil, if that great Vistor, before whose presenc al the lvig must give place, were not already in th house; so I betok myself to th inn, and dined thre, and engaged my bed. It was ten o’cock when I went out. Many of the shops were sut, and the town was dul Wh I cam to Omr and Joram’s, I found the shutters up, but the shop door standig ope A I could obtain a perspective vi of Mr. Omr inside, smokig his pipe by the parlour door, I entered, and asked him how he was ‘Why, blss my life and soul!’ said Mr. Omer, ‘ho do you find yoursf? Take a sat.—Smoke nt diagreeable, I hope?’ ‘By no means,’ said I. ‘I lke it—in somebody else’s pipe.’ ‘What, not in your own, eh?’ Mr. Omer returnd, laughng. ‘A the better, sr. Bad habit for a young man Take a seat. I smoke, mysf, for the asthma.’ Mr. Omer had made ro for me, and placed a chair. He now sat dow again very much out of breath, gasping at his pipe as if it contained a supply of that necesary, withut which h must perish. ‘I am sorry to have heard bad ne of Mr. Barkis,’ said I. Mr. Omer looked at me, with a steady countenan, and shook his head. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 599 ‘Do you know how he is tonight?’ I asked. ‘The very question I should have put to you, sr,’ returned Mr. Omer, ‘but on acunt of delicacy. It’s one of the drawbacks of our line of busss. Whe a party’s ill, we can’t ask ho th party is.’ The difficulty had not occurred to me; though I had had my appresion to, wh I went in, of hearing th od tune. On its beg metid, I regnized it, hover, and said as muc ‘Yes, yes, you understand,’ said Mr. Omer, noddig hs had. ‘We dursn’t do it. Bl you, it would be a shock that the genrality of partie mightn’t recver, to say “Omr and Joram’s mpliments, and ho do you find yourself this morning?”—or this aftern—as it may be.’ Mr. Omr and I nodded at eac other, and Mr. Omer recruited his wid by th aid of hi pipe ‘It’s one of the things that cut the trade off from attenti they could often wish to sho,’ said Mr. Omr. ‘Take myself. If I have known Barki a year, to mve to as he went by, I have known him forty years But I can’t go and say, “ho is he?”’ I felt it was rather hard on Mr. Omer, and I tod him so. ‘I’m not more self-intereted, I hope, than anothr man,’ said Mr. Omer. ‘Lok at me! My wind may fail me at any moment, and it ain’t likely that, to my own knowledge, I’d be slf-intereted under such circumtan. I say it ain’t likely, in a man w know does go, as if a pair of bes was cut wind will go, when it ope; and that man a grandfathr,’ said Mr. Omer. I said, ‘Not at al’ ‘It ain’t that I complain of my line of business,’ said Mr. Omer. ‘It ain’t that. So good and so bad goes, no doubt, to al callgs. What I wish is, that parties was brought up strongerCharles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 600 minded.’ Mr. Omer, with a very complacent and amiabl face, tok several puffs in silen; and th said, resuming his first point: ‘Accordingly w’re obleeged, in ascertaining ho Barkis go on, to lt ourselves to Em’ly. She knows what our real objects are, and she don’t have any more alarms or suspicions about us, than if we was so many lambs. Minnie and Joram have just stepped dow to th house, in fact (s’s thre, after hours, helpig her aunt a bit), to ask her how he is tonight; and if you was to plas to wait till they c back, they’d give you full partic’lers. Wi you take something? A glass of srub and water, now? I smoke o srub and water, myself,’ said Mr. Omer, taking up his glass, ‘beause it’s considered softeg to th passage, by whic this troubl breath of mi gets ito action. But, Lord bls you,’ said Mr. Omer, huskiy, ‘it ai’t the passages that’s out of order! “Give me breath enugh,” said I to my daughter Miie, “and I’l fid passages, my dear.”’ He really had no breath to spare, and it was very alarmng to him laugh Whe he was again in a condition to be talked to, I thanked hi for the proffered refreshmet, wh I deed, as I had just had dinr; and, observing that I would wait, since h was so god as to invite me, until his daughter and his son-in-law came back, I inquired ho littl Emily was? ‘Well, sr,’ said Mr. Omer, removing his pipe, that he might rub hi c: ‘I tell you truly, I shall be glad when her marriage has taken place.’ ‘Why so?’ I inquired. ‘Well, she’s unttld at pret,’ said Mr. Omer. ‘It ain’t that she’s not as pretty as ever, for she’s prettir—I do assure you, she Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 601 i prettier. It ai’t that she do’t work as we as ever, for she do She was worth any six, and sh is worth any six. But sohow sh wants heart. If you understand,’ said Mr. Omer, after rubbig hi chin again, and smokig a littl, ‘wat I mean i a geral way by th expression, “A long pull, and a strong pull, and a pull altogether, my heartie, hurrah!” I should say to you, that that was—i a genral way—what I mi i Em’ly.’ Mr. Omer’s face and manr went for so much, that I could conscitiusy nod my head, as divining his meang. My quickness of appresion seed to plase him, and he went on: ‘Now I consider this is principally on account of her being in an unsttled state, you see. We have talked it over a good deal, her uncle and myself, and her swethart and myself, after busine; and I consider it is principally o account of hr beg unttld. You must always ret of Em’ly,’ said Mr. Omer, shakig hi head gently, ‘that s’s a mot extraordiary affectinate little thing. The proverb says, “You can’t make a sk purse out of a sw’s ear.” We, I do’t know about that. I rather think you may, if you begin early in lfe. She has made a home out of that old boat, sir, that stoe and marbl couldn’t beat.’ ‘I am sure she has!’ said I. ‘To se the clging of that pretty little thing to her unc,’ said Mr. Omr; ‘to s the way sh holds on to him, tighter and tighter, and cler and closer, every day, is to see a sght. No, you know, there’s a struggle going on when that’s the cas Why should it be made a longer on than is needful?’ I lted attentivey to the good old fellow, and acquied, wth al my heart, in what he said. ‘Threfore, I mentiond to them,’ said Mr. Omer, in a Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 602 comfortabl, easy-gong to, ‘this. I said, “No, don’t consider Em’ly naild dow in point of time, at all. Make it your on time. Her services have be more valuable than was supposed; her learnng has be quiker than was supposed; Omr and Joram can run thr pen through what remains; and she’s fre w you wis If sh like to make any little arranget, afterwards, i the way of dog any little thing for us at home, very wel If sh do’t, very w still We’re n losers, anyh.” For—don’t you see,’ said Mr. Omr, touchig m with his pipe, ‘it ai’t likey that a man so hort of breath as mysf, and a grandfather too, would go and her?’ strain points with a littl bit of a blue-eyed blsom, like ‘Not at al, I am certai,’ said I. ‘Not at al! You’re right!’ said Mr. Omer. ‘Wel, sir, her cousin— you know it’s a cous she’s going to be marrid to?’ ‘Oh yes,’ I replied. ‘I kn him we.’ ‘Of course you do,’ said Mr. Omr. ‘Well, sir! Her cousin beg, as it appears, in god work, and we to do, thanked me in a very many sort of manner for this (conductig hif altogether, I must say, in a way that gives me a hgh opiion of hm), and wnt and took as cfortable a little house as you or I could wis to cap eye on. That little house i nw furnihed right through, as at and coplte as a do’s parlour; and but for Barki’s illne avig take this bad turn, poor fel, they would have be man and wfe—I dare say, by this time. As it is, thre’s a postponement.’ ‘And Emiy, Mr. Omer?’ I iquired. ‘Has she be more ttled?’ ‘Why that, you kn,’ he returned, rubbig his doubl chi again, ‘can’t naturally be expected. Th prospect of th change Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 603 and separation, and al that, is, as one may say, cose to her and far away from her, both at once Barki’s death needn’t put it off much, but hs lingerig might. Anyway, it’s an uncertain state of matters, you se’ ‘I see,’ said I. ‘Consequently,’ pursued Mr. Omer, ‘Em’ly’s sti a little dow, and a lttle fluttered; perhaps, upon the whole, sh’s more s than e was Every day she seems to get fonder and fonder of her uncle, and more loth to part fro all of us A kind wrd fro me brigs the tears into her eye; and if you was to se her with my daughter Min’s lttle girl, you’d never forget it. Ble my heart alive!’ said Mr. Omr, pondering, ‘ho she loves that chid!’ Having so favourable an opportunity, it occurred to me to ask Mr. Omr, before our cversation should be iterrupted by the return of his daughter and her husband, whether he knew anything of Martha. ‘Ah!’ h rejod, shakig his head, and looking very much dejected. ‘No god. A sad story, sir, hover you come to know it. I nver thought there was harm in the girl. I wouldn’t wis to mention it before my daughter Miie—for she’d take me up directly—but I never did. None of us ever did.’ Mr. Omer, hearig his daughter’s footstep before I heard it, toucd me with his pipe, and shut up on eye, as a caution. She and her husband came in immediatey afterwards. Their report was, that Mr. Barki was ‘as bad as bad could be’; that he was quite unscious; and that Mr. Chillip had murnfully said in the kitchen, on going away just now, that the Collge of Physan, the College of Surgeons, and Apothecari’ Hall, if they were al calld i together, couldn’t help hi He was Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 604 past both Colleges, Mr. Chlip said, and th Hall could only poi Hearig this, and larning that Mr. Peggotty was there, I determid to go to the house at onc I bade good night to Mr. Omr, and to Mr. and Mrs. Joram; and directed my steps thither, wth a solem feg, wich made Mr. Barkis quite a ne and different creature. My low tap at the door was anred by Mr. Peggotty. He was not so much surprised to se me as I had expected. I remarked this in Peggotty, to, wh she came dow; and I have see it since; and I thk, in th expectation of that dread surpri, al thr changes and surpri dwidle into nothing. I shook hands with Mr. Peggotty, and pased ito the kitchen, wile h softly closd th door. Littl Emily was sitting by th fire, wth her hands before her face. Ham was standing near her. We spoke in whispers; listeg, betw wiles, for any sound i the room above. I had not thought of it on the occas of my last vit, but ho strange it was to me, now, to miss Mr. Barkis out of the kitchen! ‘This is very kid of you, Mas’r Davy,’ said Mr. Peggotty. ‘It’s onmmon kind,’ said Ham ‘Em’ly, my dear,’ cried Mr. Peggotty. ‘See hre! Here’s Mas’r Davy co! What, cr up, pretty! Not a wured to Mas’r Davy?’ There was a tremblig upon her, that I can s now. The coldness of her hand wh I toucd it, I can fe yet. Its oly sign f animation was to shrink fro mine; and th she glided fro the cair, and creepig to the other side of her unce, bod hrsf, silently and trebling still, upo his breast. ‘It’s such a loving art,’ said Mr. Peggotty, smoothng her rich Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 605 hair with his great hard hand, ‘that it can’t abear the srrer of this It’s nat’ral in young folk, Mas’r Davy, when they’re new to thes here trial, and timd, lke my little bird,—it’s nat’ral’ Sh clung the closer to him, but nther lifted up her fac, nr spoke a wrd. ‘It’s getting late, my dear,’ said Mr. Peggotty, ‘and here’s Ham c fur to take you home Theer! Go along with t’other loving art! What’ Em’ly? Eh, my pretty?’ The sound of her voic had not reached me, but he bet hi ad as if he listed to her, and th said: ‘Let you stay with your unce? Why, you doen’t man to ask m that! Stay with your unc, Moppet? Wh your husband that’l be s soon, is here fur to take you home? Now a person wouldn’t think it, fur to se this lttle thing alongside a rough-weather cap lke m,’ said Mr. Peggotty, lookig round at both of us, with infinite pride; ‘but th sea ain’t more salt in it than she has fondn in her for her unc—a foolh lttle Em’ly!’ ‘Em’ly’s in the right in that, Mas’r Davy!’ said Ham. ‘Lokee here! A Em’ly wi of it, and as she’s hurried and frightened, like, besides, I’ll leave her ti morng. Let me stay to!’ ‘No, no,’ said Mr. Peggotty. ‘You doen’t ought—a marrid man like you—or what’s as god—to take and hul away a day’s wrk. d you do’t ought to watch and work both. That won’t do You go home and turn in You ai’t aferd of Em’ly not beig took good care on, I know.’ Ham yielded to this persuason, and took his hat to go. Even when he kied her.—and I nver saw hi approac her, but I felt that nature had given hi the soul of a gentlan— se seemed to clg closer to her unce, even to the avoidane of her chosen husband. I sut the door after him, that it might cause Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 606 n diturban of the quiet that prevaid; and when I turned back, I found Mr. Peggotty sti talkig to her. ‘Now, I’m a going upstairs to tel your aunt as Mas’r Davy’s re, and that’ll cheer her up a bit,’ h said. ‘Sit ye dow by th fire, th while, my dear, and warm th mortal cod hands. You doe’t need to be so fearsome, and take on so much. What? You’ll go along with m?—We! c alg with me—c! If her unc was turned out of house and home, and forced to lay down in a dyke, Mas’r Davy,’ said Mr. Peggotty, with no less pride than before, ‘it’s my bef sh’d go along with him, nw! But there’l be someo el, soo,—someo el, soo, Em’ly!’ Afterwards, wen I wet upstairs, as I pased the door of my littl chamber, which was dark, I had an idistinct impre of her beg within it, cast down upon the floor. But, whether it was really she, or wthr it was a confusion of th shadows in th room, I do’t know n I had lure to think, before the kitchen fire, of pretty little Emily’s dread of death—wich, added to what Mr. Omr had told m, I took to be the cause of her beg s unlike herself—and I had lure, before Peggotty cam down, eve to think more ltly of the weakn of it: as I sat counting the tickig of the ck, and deepenig my see of the so hush around m. Peggotty took me i hr arms, and blessed and thanked me over and over again for being such a comfort to her (that was what she said) in hr ditres Sh then entreated me to co upstairs, sbbig that Mr. Barkis had always liked me and admired me; that he had ofte talked of me, before he fe into a stupor; and that s beved, i case of hs cong to hif again, he would brighte up at sight of me, if he could brighten up at any earthly thing. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 607 Th probability of his ever doig so, appeared to me, wh I saw him, to be very smal He was lyig wth his had and shoulders out of bed, in an unfortable attitude, half restig o th box wich had cost hm so much pai and troubl I learned, that, wh he was past creping out of bed to ope it, and past assuring hif of its safety by means of th divining rod I had seen him use, he had required to have it placed on the cair at th bed-sde, where he had ever si embracd it, night and day. His arm lay o it now Time and th world were slipping fro beneath , but the box was there; and the last words he had uttered were (in an explanatory tone) ‘Old clothes!’ ‘Barkis, my dear!’ said Peggotty, almost cherfully: bendig over him, while her brother and I stood at the bed’s foot. ‘Here’s my dear boy—my dear boy, Master Davy, wh brought us together, Barki! That you st mage by, you know! Wo’t you speak to Master Davy?’ He was as mute and senselss as th box, fro which his form derived th only expression it had. ‘He’s a going out with the tide,’ said Mr. Peggotty to me, bend his hand. My eye were di and s were Mr. Peggotty’s; but I repeated in a whisper, ‘With th tide?’ ‘Pepl can’t di, alg the coast,’ said Mr. Peggotty, ’except when the tide’s pretty nigh out. They can’t be born, unle it’s pretty nigh in—not properly born, til flood. He’s a going out with the tide. It’s ebb at half-arter three, slack water half an hour. If he lves till it turns, he’l hold his own till past the flood, and go out with the next tide’ We remaid there, watchig him, a log tim—hours. What Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 608 mysterious influe my prece had upo hi in that state of his senses, I shal not preted to say; but wh h at last began to ander febly, it is certain he was muttering about drivig me to hool. ‘He’s comng to hif,’ said Peggotty. Mr. Peggotty toucd me, and whispered with much awe and reveren ‘They are both a-going out fast.’ ‘Barkis, my dear!’ said Peggotty. ‘C. P. Barkis,’ he cried faitly. ‘No better woman anywre!’ ‘Lok! Here’s Master Davy!’ said Peggotty. For h n opened hi eyes I was on the pot of askig him if he knew me, when he tried to stretc out hs arm, and said to me, distinctly, with a plasant smil: ‘Barkis is wiin’!’ Ad, it beg lw water, he went out with the tide Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 609 Chapter 31 A GREATER LOSS I t was nt diffiult for me, on Peggotty’s sotation, to resve to stay where I was, until after the remai of the poor carrier should have made thr last journey to Blundersto She had lg ago bought, out of her own savings, a little pi of ground in our old churcyard near the grave of ‘her sweet girl’, as se alays aled my mother; and there they were to ret. In kepig Peggotty copany, and dog all I could for her (little enough at the utmot), I was as grateful, I rejoic to think, as ve now I could wish myself to have be. But I am afraid I had a supre satisfacti, of a persal and professional nature, i takig charge of Mr. Barki’s wi, and expoundig its contets I may caim the merit of having origiated the suggesti that th will should be looked for in th box. After som search, it was found i the box, at the botto of a hors’s n-bag; wherein (besides hay) thre was discovered an old god watc, with chai and seals, wich Mr. Barki had worn on his wedding-day, and w had nver been seen before or sie; a siver tobacstopper, in th form of a leg; an imitation lemon, ful of minute cups and saucrs, which I have some idea Mr. Barki must have purcased to pret to me wh I was a child, and afterwards found himelf unabl to part with; eighty-seven guieas and a half, i guineas and half-guinas; two hundred and ten pounds, in perfetly clean Bank notes; certain receipts for Bank of England stok; an old horsesho, a bad shilling, a piece of camphor, and an Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 610 oyster-shel From the circumtanc of the latter artic having be much polished, and displaying prismatic colours o th inside, I colude that Mr. Barkis had some geral ideas about pearls, which never resolved thlve into anythng defite For years and years, Mr. Barki had carried this box, on al his journeys, every day. That it might the better eape ntic, he had invented a fiction that it belonged to ‘Mr. Blackboy’, and was ‘to be left wth Barkis ti called for’; a fabl he had elaboratey writte th lid, in characters now scarcely legible. He had hoarded, al these years, I found, to good purpoe. His property in money amounted to nearly thre thusand pounds Of this he bequeathed the iterest of one thousand to Mr. Peggotty for his life; on his decease, th priipal to be equaly divided betwee Peggotty, lttle Emy, and m, or the survivor or survivors of us, share and share alike. Al th rest he died pod of, he bequeathed to Peggotty; whom he lft resduary lgatee, and s exeutrix of that his last will and testamt. I felt myself quite a protor wh I read this document alud wth all possibl ceremony, and set forth its provisions, any number of tim, to those whom they cornd. I began to think there was more in the Commons than I had suppod. I examed the wi with the deepest atteti, pronounced it perfectly formal in all respects, made a pencil-mark or so in th margin, and thought it rathr extraordiary that I kn s muc In this abstruse pursuit; in making an account for Peggotty, of all th property into which she had come; in arranging all th affairs in an orderly manr; and in beg hr refere and advir on every pot, to our joint delight; I pasd the week before the funeral I did nt s little Emy in that interval, but they told m Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 611 s was to be quietly married in a fortnight. I did not attend the funeral in character, if I may venture to say so. I mean I was not dressed up in a black coat and a streamer, to frighten the birds; but I walked over to Blunderstone early in the morng, and was in th churchyard w it came, atteded only by Peggotty and her brother. The mad gentlan looked on, out of my littl wndow; Mr. Chillip’s baby wagged its heavy head, and rod its goggle eyes, at the clergyman, over its nurse’s shoulder; Mr. Omer breathed short i the background; no one els was there; and it was very quiet. We walked about the curchyard for an hour, after all was over; and pulled some young leave fro th tree above my mother’s grave. A dread falls o me here A clud is lowring on th distant town, towards whic I retracd my solitary steps I fear to approach it. I cant bear to think of what did come, upo that memorable night; of what must come agai, if I go on It is no wrs, beaus I write of it. It would be no better, if I stopped my most uning hand. It is done Nothing can undo it; nothing can make it othrwise than as it was. My old nurse was to go to London with me nxt day, on the bus of the wil Little Emy was pasg that day at Mr. Omr’s We were all to met in the old boathouse that night. Ham would brig Emiy at the usual hour. I would walk back at my lure. The brother and siter would return as they had c, and be expectig us, wh th day closd in, at th fireside. I parted fro th at th wicket-gate, whre visionary Strap had rested with Roderick Random’s knapsack in th days of yore; and, istead of going straight back, walked a littl distance on th road to Lowestoft. Then I turned, and walked back towards Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 612 Yarmuth I stayed to dine at a decent alehuse, some mile or tw from the Ferry I have metid before; and thus the day wore away, and it was eveing wh I reached it. Rain was falg heaviy by that tim, and it was a wild night; but there was a mo bend the clouds, and it was not dark. I was soo within sight of Mr. Peggotty’s huse, and of th light within it shg through the window. A little flounderig across the sand, whic was heavy, brought me to the door, and I went in It looked very cofortable inded. Mr. Peggotty had smoked his veing pipe and thre wre preparation for some supper by and by. The fire was bright, the ashes were thrown up, the loker was ready for little Emy in her old plac In her own old place sat Peggotty, once more, lookig (but for her dress) as if she had never left it. She had fallen back, already, on th society of th rk-box wth St. Paul’s upon the ld, the yard-measure in th ttage, and the bit of wax-candl; and there they al were, just as if thy had never be disturbed. Mrs. Gummidge appeared to be fretting a littl, in her old cornr; and consequently looked quite atural, too. ‘You’re first of the lot, Mas’r Davy!’ said Mr. Peggotty with a happy face. ‘Don’t keep in that coat, sir, if it’s wet.’ ‘Thank you, Mr. Peggotty,’ said I, giving him my outer coat to hang up. ‘It’s quite dry.’ ‘So ’tis!’ said Mr. Peggotty, feing my shoulders. ‘As a chip! Sit ye dow, sir. It ain’t o’ no us saying welcom to you, but you’re lcom, kind and harty.’ ‘Thank you, Mr. Peggotty, I am sure of that. We, Peggotty!’ said I, giving her a kiss. ‘And ho are you, old woman?’ ‘Ha, ha!’ laughed Mr. Peggotty, sitting down bede us, and Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 613 rubbig his hands in his see of relief from recet trouble, and in the genui heartin of his nature; ‘there’s not a woman in the wureld, sir—as I tel her—that ned to fee more easy i her mnd than her! She done her dooty by th departed, and th departed know’d it; and th departed done what was right by hr, as she done wat was right by th departed;—and—and—and it’s al right!’ Mrs. Gummidge groaned. ‘Cheer up, my pritty mawther!’ said Mr. Peggotty. (But he shook his head asde at us, evidently snsibl of the tendency of the late occurren to recal the mery of the old one) ‘Doen’t be do! Cheer up, for your own sef, on’y a little bit, and see if a god deal more doe’t come nat’ral!’ ‘Not to me, Dan’l,’ returned Mrs. Gumidge. ‘Nothk’s nat’ral to me but to be l and lorn.’ ‘No, no,’ said Mr. Peggotty, soothg her sorro ‘Yes, yes, Dan’l!’ said Mrs Gumdge. ‘I ai’t a pers to live with them as has had my lft. Thinks go too cotrary with me I had better be a riddanc’ ‘Why, how should I ever sped it without you?’ said Mr. Peggotty, with an air of serious remnstran ‘What are you a talkig on? Doe’t I want you more no, than ever I did?’ ‘I know’d I was never wanted before!’ cried Mrs. Gummidge, wth a pitiabl whimper, ‘and now I’m tod so! Ho could I expect to be wanted, being so lone and lorn, and so contrary!’ Mr. Peggotty seemed very muc shocked at himf for havig made a speh capable of this unfeeg cotruction, but was prevented from replyig, by Peggotty’s pulg hi seeve, and shaking her head. After looking at Mrs. Gumidge for some Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 614 moments, in sore distress of mind, h glanced at th Dutc clock, ro, snuffed th candle, and put it in th window ‘Theer!’said Mr. Peggotty, ceeriy. ‘Theer we are, Mi Gummidge!’ Mrs. Gummidge slightly groaned. ‘Lighted up, accordi’ to custo! You’re a wonderi’ what that’s fur, sir! Well, it’s fur our little Em’ly. You se, the path ai’t over lght or ceerful arter dark; and when I’m here at the hour as she’s a c’ home, I puts the light in the winder. That, you se,’ said Mr. Peggotty, bedig over me with great gle, ‘mts two objects She says, says Em’ly, “Theer’s he!” she says. Ad likese, says Em’ly, “My unce’s theer!” Fur if I ai’t theer, I never have n light showed.’ ‘You’re a baby!’ said Peggotty; very fond of him for it, if she thought so ‘We,’ returned Mr. Peggotty, standig with his legs pretty wide apart, and rubbig his hands up and down them in h mfortable satisfacti, as h looked alternatey at us and at th fire. ‘I doe’t kn but I am. Not, you see, to lok at.’ ‘Not azackly,’ observed Peggotty. ‘No,’ laughed Mr. Peggotty, ‘not to look at, but to—to consider on, you know. I doen’t care, blss you! No I te you. When I go a lookig and lookig about that theer pritty house of our Em’ly’s, I’m—I’m Gormed,’ said Mr. Peggotty, with sudde emphas— ‘theer! I can’t say more—if I do’t fee as if the littlet things was r, a’most. I takes ’em up and I put ’em dow, and I toucs of ’em as delicate as if thy was our Em’ly. So ’tis with her little boets and that. I couldn’t see one on ’em rough used a purpose—not fur the whole wured. There’s a babby fur you, in the form of a great Sea Porkypi!’ said Mr. Peggotty, relvig hi Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 615 earntn with a roar of laughter. Peggotty and I both laughed, but nt so loud. ‘It’s my opi, you se,’ said Mr. Peggotty, with a deghted face, after some furthr rubbing of his legs, ‘as this is alg of my havin’ played with her so much, and made belve as w was Turks, and Frenc, and sharks, and every wariety of forirs— bless you, yes; and lions and whales, and I doe’t kn what all!— when sh warn’t n higher than my kn I’ve got ito the way on it, you know. Why, this here candle, now!’ said Mr. Peggotty, gleefully holdig out his hand towards it, ‘ I know wery wel that arter sh’s married and gone, I sal put that candl theer, just the sam as n I know wery wel that when I’m here o’ nights (and were els should I live, bl your arts, whatever fortun’ I co to!) and sh ain’t here or I ain’t theer, I shal put the candl i the wder, and st afore the fire, pretendig I’m expetig of her, like I’m a doing now There’s a babby for you,’ said Mr. Peggotty, with another roar, ‘i the form of a Sea Porkypi! Why, at the present mute, wen I see the candl sparkle up, I says to mysf, “She’s a looking at it! Em’ly’s a coming!” There’s a babby for you, i the form of a Sea Porkypi! Right for al that,’ said Mr. Peggotty, stopping in hi roar, and smitig his hands togethr; ‘fur hre she is!’ It was only Ham The night should have turned mre wet s I cam i, for he had a large sou’wester hat on, souchd over his fac ‘Wheer’s Em’ly?’ said Mr. Peggotty. Ham made a moti with his head, as if she wre outside. Mr. Peggotty took the light from the window, trimd it, put it on the tabl, and was busily stirring th fire, wh Ham, wh had not Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 616 moved, said: ‘Mas’r Davy, wi you come out a minute, and see wat Em’ly and me has got to show you?’ We went out. As I pasd him at the door, I saw, to my astonishment and fright, that he was deadly pale. He pushed me hastiy ito the open air, and cosed the door upon us Ony upon us two. ‘Ham! what’s the matter?’ ‘Mas’r Davy!—’ Oh, for hi broke heart, how dreadfully he wept! I was paralysed by th sight of such grief. I don’t kn what I thought, or what I dreaded. I could only look at him ‘Ham! Por god fe! For Heave’s sake, tell m wat’s th atter!’ ‘My love, Mas’r Davy—the pride and hope of my art—her that I’d have did for, and would die for now—she’s go!’ ‘Gone!’ ‘Em’ly’s run away! Oh, Mas’r Davy, think how she’s run away, w I pray my god and gracious God to ki her (hr that is so dear above all things) sooner than let her co to ruin and disgrace!’ The fac he turned up to the troubld sky, the quiverig of his clasped hands, th agoy of his figure, reai associated with th lonely waste, in my remembran, to this hur. It is always night there, and he is the only object in the sc ‘You’re a schoar,’ he said, hurriedly, ‘and kn wat’s right and best. What am I to say, indoors? Ho am I ever to break it to , Mas’r Davy?’ I saw th door move, and instinctivey tried to hd th latc o Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 617 the outside, to gai a mot’s tim It was too late. Mr. Peggotty thrust forth his face; and never could I forget th change that came upo it when he saw us, if I were to live five hundred years. I remember a great wai and cry, and th wmen hanging about hm, and we all standing in th ro; I with a paper in my hand, whic Ham had given m; Mr. Peggotty, with his vest torn ope, his hair wild, his face and lips quite white, and bld trickling dow his bosom (it had sprung fro his mouth, I thk), looking fixedly at me ‘Read it, sir,’ he said, in a low shivering voice. ‘Slow, plase. I doen’t kn as I can understand.’ In the midst of the since of death, I read thus, from a blotted ltter: ‘“When you, who love me s muc better than I ever have deserved, eve wh my mid was innocent, see this, I shall be far away.”’ ‘I shall be fur away,’ he repeated slowly. ‘Stop! Em’ly fur away. Wel!’ ‘“When I leave my dear home—my dear home—oh, my dear home!—in the morng,”’ the letter bore date on the previus nght: ‘“—it w be never to come back, unless he brings me back a lady. This will be found at night, many hurs after, instead of me. Oh, if you knew ho my hart is Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 618 torn. If eve you, that I have wronged s muc, that never can forgive me, could only kn what I suffer! I am to wicked to write about myself! Oh, take comfort in thking that I am so bad. Oh, for mercy’s sake, te uncle that I never loved him half so dear as now Oh, don’t remember ho affectionate and kind you have all been to m—do’t reber we were ever to be arried—but try to think as if I did when I was lttle, and was buried sere. Pray Heave that I am going away fro, have compassi on my uncle! Te m that I never loved him half so dear. Be hs comfort. Love so god girl that wi be what I was on to unc, and be true to you, and worthy of you, and know no sham but me. God bls all! I’ll pray for all, ofte, o my kn If he don’t brig me back a lady, and I don’t pray for my own self, I’l pray for all. My parting lve to un My last tears, and my last thanks, for unce!”’ That was all. He stod, long after I had ceasd to read, still lookig at me. At lgth I ventured to take hi hand, and to entreat him, as well as I could, to endeavour to get some comand of himself. He replied, ‘I thankee, sir, I thankee!’ withut movig. Ham spoke to him Mr. Peggotty was so far sensibl of hi affliti, that he wrung his hand; but, otherwis, he remaied i th same state, and no on dared to disturb him. Slowly, at last, he moved his eyes from my fac, as if he were wakig from a vison, and cast them round the room. Then he Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 619 said, in a low voice: ‘Who’s the man? I want to know his nam’ Ham glanced at me, and suddenly I felt a shok that struck me back. ‘Thre’s a man suspected,’ said Mr. Peggotty. ‘Who is it?’ ‘Mas’r Davy!’ implored Ham ‘Go out a bit, and lt me te h at I must. You doen’t ought to hear it, sir.’ I felt the shock agai I sank down in a chair, and tried to utter s reply; but my tongue was fettered, and my sight was weak. ‘I want to kn his name!’ I heard said once more ‘For some time past,’ Ham faltered, ‘thre’s been a servant about here, at odd tim There’s be a gen’l’n too. Both of ’e beged to one another.’ Mr. Peggotty stood fixed as before, but nw lookig at him ‘Th servant,’ pursued Ham, ‘was seen alg with—our poor girl—last night. He’s be in hidig about here, this week or over. He was thought to have gone, but he was hidig. Do’t stay, Mas’r Davy, do’t!’ I felt Peggotty’s arm round my nk, but I culd nt have mved if the house had be about to fall upon me ‘A strange chay and hos was outsde to, this morng, o the Norwich road, a’most afore the day broke,’ Ham wt o. ‘Th rvant went to it, and come fro it, and wnt to it again. Whe h went to it agai, Em’ly was ngh him The t’other was inde He’s the man’ ‘For the Lord’s love,’ said Mr. Peggotty, falg back, and putting out his hand, as if to kep off what he dreaded. ‘Doen’t tell me his name’s Sterforth!’ ‘Mas’r Davy,’ exclaimed Ham, in a broke voice, ‘it ai’t n fault Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 620 of yourn—and I am far from laying of it to you—but his nam i Sterforth, and he’s a damd viain!’ Mr. Peggotty uttered no cry, and sd no tear, and moved n more, unti h seed to wake again, all at once, and pulled dow is rough coat fro its peg in a cornr. ‘Bear a hand with this! I’m struck of a heap, and can’t do it,’ he said, impatitly. ‘Bear a hand and hep me. Well!’ w somebody had done so. ‘Now give me that thr hat!’ Ham asked him whithr he was going. ‘I’m a going to sek my nie I’m a going to sk my Em’ly. I’m a going, first, to stave i that theer boat, and sik it where I would have drownded him, as I’m a lving soul, if I had had one thought of what was in hi! A he sat afore me,’ he said, wildly, holdig out his clenched right hand, ‘as he sat afore me, face to face, strike me dow dead, but I’d have dronded hm, and thught it right!— I’m a gog to seek my niece.’ ‘Where?’ crid Ham, iterposig himelf before the door. ‘Aywhere! I’m a going to sek my n through the wureld. I’m a going to find my poor n i her sham, and brig her back. No one stop me! I tel you I’m a going to sek my ni!’ ‘No, no!’ cried Mrs. Gumidge, coming betw th, in a fit of crying. ‘No, no, Dan’l, not as you are now Seek her in a littl ile, my lone lorn Dan’l, and that’ll be but right! but not as you are no Sit ye down, and give me your forgive for having ever been a worrit to you, Dan’l—wat have my cotrari ever be to this!—and let us speak a word about them tim when s was first an orphan, and when Ham was too, and when I was a poor widder woman, and you took me in It’l soften your poor heart, Dan’l,’ laying her head upo hi shoulder, ‘and you’ll bear Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 621 your sorrow better; for you know the prom, Dan’l, “A you have do it unto one of the least of thes, you have do it unto me”,— and that can nver fai under this roof, that’s be our ster for so many, many year!’ He was quite passive now; and wh I hard h crying, th pul that had be upo me to go do upo my kn, and ask their pardo for the delation I had caused, and curse Sterforth, yieded to a better feeg, My overcarged heart found th same ref, and I cried to Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 622 Chapter 32 THE BEGINNING OF A LONG JOURNEY W hat is natural in me, is natural in many othr men, I infer, and so I am not afraid to write that I never had lved Sterforth better than when the tie that bound me to hm were broke. In th kee distress of th discovery of hi unworthin, I thought more of al that was briant i hi, I softed more toards all that was god i hm, I did more justice to the qualti that might have made him a man of a nobl nature and a great nam, than ever I had do in the height of my devoti to him. Deply as I felt my own unnscius part in h poutio of an honest home, I beeved that if I had been brought face to face with him, I could not have uttered o reproach. I should have lved him s well sti—though he fasnated m no ger—I should have held in so muc tenderne the mry of my affection for hm, that I thk I should have bee as weak as a spirit-wunded child, in all but th entertainment of a thught that we culd ever be re-united. That thought I never had. I felt, as he had felt, that all was at an end betw us What hi rembrance of me were, I have never known—they were lght eugh, perhaps, and easily dismisd—but mi of him wre as th remembrances of a cherished friend, wh was dead. Yes, Sterforth, long removed fro th scenes of this poor hitory! My sorrow may bear ivoluntary witne agait you at the judget Throne; but my angry thoughts or my reproac ver wll, I kn! Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 623 The nws of what had happed soon spread through the town; insomuch that as I passed alg th strets next morng, I overheard the peopl speakig of it at their doors. Many were hard upon her, so few were hard upon him, but towards her sd father and her lover there was but one stient. Amg al kids f people a respect for th in thr distress prevailed, wich was full of gentlene and delicacy. Th seafaring men kept apart, wen those two were seen early, walkig with sow steps on th beach; and stood in knots, talkig cpasonately among themsves It was on the beach, close down by the sa, that I found them It would have be easy to perceve that they had not slpt al last nght, eve if Peggotty had faid to tell me of their sti stting just as I lft them, when it was broad day. They looked wrn; and I thought Mr. Peggotty’s head was bowed in one night more than in all th years I had knn him. But thy were both as grave and steady as th sea itself, th lyig beath a dark sky, waveles— yet with a heavy roll upo it, as if it breathd i its rest—and touched, on the horizo, with a strip of sivery light from the unseen sun ‘We have had a mrt of talk, sir,’ said Mr. Peggotty to me, when we had all three walked a lttle whil in since, ‘of what we ought and doen’t ought to do. But we see our course no’ I happed to glan at Ham, then lookig out to sa upon the ditant light, and a frightful thought cam into my mnd—not that his face was angry, for it was not; I recall nothing but an expression of stern determation in it—that if ever h untered Sterforth, he would kill him. ‘My dooty here, sir,’ said Mr. Peggotty, ‘is don. I’m a gog to Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 624 sek my—’ h stopped, and went on in a firmr voice: ‘I’m a going to seek her. That’s my dooty evermore.’ He shook his head when I asked hi where he would seek her, and inquired if I were going to London tomorrow? I told hi I had nt gone today, fearig to lo the chan of beg of any servic to hi; but that I was ready to go when he would. ‘I’ll go alg with you, sir,’ he rejoind, ‘if you’re agreeable, tomorrow.’ We walked again, for a while, in silence. ‘Ham,’ he presetly resumed,’ he’ll hod to his preset wrk, and go and live along with my siter. The old boat yonder—’ ‘Wi you dert the old boat, Mr. Peggotty?’ I gently interposed. ‘My station, Mas’r Davy,’ he returned, ‘ai’t there no loger; and if ever a boat foundered, sie there was darkn on the fac f the deep, that one’s go dow. But n, sr, n; I doen’t mean as it should be deserted. Fur fro that.’ We walked again for a wh, as before, unti he explained: ‘My wishe is, sir, as it shall look, day and night, winter and summer, as it has always looked, since she fust kn’d it. If ever she should come a wanderig back, I wouldn’t have th old place s to cast her off, you understand, but se to tempt her to draw ngher to ’ t, and to pep in, maybe, like a ghost, out of the wind and rai, through the old winder, at the old seat by the fire. Th, maybe, Mas’r Davy, sen’ none but Missis Gummidge there, sh might take heart to crep i, tremblg; and mght c to be laid down in her old bed, and rest her weary head where it was once so gay.’ I could nt speak to him in reply, though I tried. ‘Every nght,’ said Mr. Peggotty, ‘as reg’lar as the night co, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 625 th candle must be stod in its old pan of glass, that if ever she should see it, it may see to say “Co back, my chid, come back!” If ever thre’s a knock, Ham (partic’ler a soft knk), arter dark, at your aunt’s door, doen’t you go nigh it. Let it be her—nt you—that sees my fal chid!’ He walked a little i front of us, and kept before us for so minutes. During this interval, I glanced at Ham again, and observing th same expresion on his face, and his eye still directed to the ditant lght, I touched his arm Twice I called hm by hi name, in th to in wh I might have trid to rouse a seeper, before he heeded me. Wh I at last inquired on what his thughts were so bent, he replied: ‘On what’s afore me, Mas’r Davy; and over yon.’ ‘On the lfe before you, do you mean?’ He had poted confusdly out to sea. ‘Ay, Mas’r Davy. I doen’t rightly know how ’ti, but from over yo there seemed to me to c—the end of it lke,’ lookig at me as if he were wakig, but with the same determed face. ‘What end?’ I asked, posssed by my formr fear. ‘I doen’t kn,’ h said, thughtfuly; ‘I was calg to mind that the beginnig of it al did take place here—and then the end c But it’s go! Mas’r Davy,’ he added; answering, as I thk, my look; ‘you han’t no call to be afeerd of me: but I’m kiender muddled; I don’t fare to fe no matters,’—wich was as much as to say that he was not himf, and quite cofounded. Mr. Peggotty stopping for us to join him: we did so, and said no more. Th remembran of this, in connexi with my formr thought, however, haunted me at interval, eve until the inexorable end came at its appointed time. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 626 We inbly approached th old boat, and entered. Mrs Gummidge, no longer moping in her especal cornr, was busy preparig breakfast. Sh took Mr. Peggotty’s hat, and placd his at for him, and spoke so comfortably and softly, that I hardly knew her. ‘Dan’l, my god man,’ said she, ‘you must eat and drik, and kep up your strength, for without it you’l do nowt. Try, that’s a dear soul! A if I disturb you wth my cicketten,’ she meant hr chattering, ‘tel me so, Dan’l, and I won’t.’ When she had srved us al, she withdrew to the wdow, were she sedulously employed hersf in repairing some shirts and other cothes begig to Mr. Peggotty, and neatly foldig and packing th in an old oikin bag, such as sailors carry. Meanwhile, she continued talkig, in th same quiet manr: ‘All times and seas, you know, Dan’l,’ said Mrs. Gummidge, ‘I shall be allus here, and everythnk wi look accordin’ to your wishe. I’m a poor schoar, but I shall write to you, odd times, when you’re away, and sed my letters to Mas’r Davy. Maybe you’ll write to me to, Dan’l, odd times, and te me ho you fare to fe upo your lone lorn journies’ ‘You’ll be a soltary woman heer, I’m afeerd!’ said Mr. Peggotty. ‘No, no, Dan’l,’ she returned, ‘I shan’t be that. Doen’t you mind m I shal have enough to do to kep a Bee for you’ (Mrs. Gummidge meant a ho), ‘agai you come back—to keep a Ben hre for any that may hap to come back, Dan’l. In th fi tim, I shal set outside the door as I used to do If any sould come ngh, they sal s the old widder woman true to ’e, a log way off.’ What a change in Mrs Gumidge in a littl time! She was Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 627 anothr woman. She was so devoted, she had such a quick perception of what it would be wel to say, and what it would be to leave unsaid; she was so forgetful of herself, and so regardful of the sorrow about her, that I held her i a sort of venration. The work sh did that day! There were many things to be brought up from the beach and stored in the outhouse—as oars, nts, sai, cordage, spars, lobster-pots, bags of ballast, and the lke; and though there was abundane of astane redered, there beg nt a pair of workig hands on al that shore but would have laboured hard for Mr. Peggotty, and be well paid i beg asked to do it, yet she persisted, all day long, i toiling under weights that sh was quite unequal to, and fagging to and fro on all sorts of uncesary errands. As to deplorig her misfortunes, se appeared to have entirey lot the reecti of ever havig had any. She preserved an equable ceerfuln i the mdst of her sympathy, whic was nt the least astonig part of the cange that had co over her. Querulousn was out of the question. I did nt eve observe her voic to falter, or a tear to esape from her eyes, the whole day through, until twilght; when s and I and Mr. Peggotty beg alone together, and he having fal aseep i perfect exhaustion, she broke into a halfsuppred fit of sobbing and crying, and taking me to th door, said, ‘Ever ble you, Mas’r Davy, be a frid to hi, poor dear!’ Th, she immediatey ran out of th house to wash her face, in order that sh might sit quietly bede hi, and be found at work there, when he should awake. In short I left her, when I went away at nght, the prop and staff of Mr. Peggotty’s afflitin; and I could nt mditate eough upon the l that I read in Mrs. Gummidge, and th new experice she unfoded to me Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 628 It was betw nine and ten o’ck wh, strog in a mlanholy manner through the town, I stopped at Mr. Omr’s door. Mr. Omer had take it s muc to heart, his daughter told me, that h had bee very low and poorly all day, and had go to bed withut his pipe. ‘A deceitful, bad-harted girl,’ said Mrs. Joram ‘Thre was no good in her, ever!’ ‘Don’t say so,’ I returned. ‘You don’t thk so.’ ‘Yes, I do!’ cried Mrs. Joram, angrily. ‘No, no,’ said I. Mrs. Joram tossd her head, endeavouring to be very stern and cross; but she could not comand her softer self, and began to cry. I was young, to be sure; but I thought muc the better of her for this sympathy, and fancied it became hr, as a virtuous wife and mothr, very well indeed. ‘What wi she ever do!’ sobbed Mi. ‘Where wi she go! What w beme of hr! Oh, ho could she be so cruel, to hersf and him!’ I rebered the ti when Mi was a young and pretty girl; and I was glad se rebered it too, so feeligly. ‘My littl Miie,’ said Mrs. Joram, ‘has only just now be got to sleep. Eve in her sleep she is sobbing for Em’ly. A day long, littl Minnie has cried for her, and asked me, over and over again, wether Em’ly was wiked? What can I say to her, when Em’ly tid a ribbon off hr own neck round littl Minnie’s th last night she was here, and laid her head dow on th pillow beside hr ti she was fast asleep! Th ribbon’s round my littl Minnie’s neck n It ought not to be, perhaps, but what can I do? Em’ly i very bad, but they were fond of one another. And the cd knows Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 629 nthing!’ Mrs. Joram was so unappy that her husband came out to take care of her. Leavig them together, I went home to Peggotty’s; more melany myself, if possibl, than I had be yet. That good creature—I mean Peggotty—al untired by her late anxities and sleepless nights, was at her brothr’s, whre she ant to stay til mornig. An od woman, who had be employed about the house for so weeks past, wh Peggotty had been unabl to attend to it, was the house’s only other occupant besides myself. As I had no ocasion for her services, I sent her to bed, by no means against her wi, and sat dow before the kitchen fire a little whil, to think about all this I was bldig it with the deathbed of the late Mr. Barki, and was drivig out with the tide towards the ditanc at whic Ham had looked so singularly in th morng, wh I was recalled fro my wanderings by a knock at th door. Thre was a knker upo the door, but it was not that whic made the sund. The tap was from a hand, and low down upon the door, as if it were given by a child. It made me start as much as if it had bee th knock of a footman to a person of dititi I opeed the door; and at first looked down, to my amazet, on nthing but a great umbrea that appeared to be walking about of itself. But pretly I discovered undernath it, Mi Mor. I might not have be prepared to give the little creature a very kind reception, if, o her removing th umbrela, which her utmot efforts were unabl to shut up, se had shown me the ‘voatile’ expression of face which had made so great an impresion on me at our first and last meetig. But her face, as she Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 630 turned it up to mi, was so earnt; and when I reeved her of the umbrella (w would have be an invenit one for th Irish Giant), she wrung hr lttl hands in such an afflted manr; that I rather ind towards her. ‘Miss Mor!’ said I, after glancing up and dow th epty stret, withut distinctly kning what I expected to se bedes; ‘ho do you come here? What is th matter?’ She motid to me with her short right arm, to shut the umbrela for her; and pasg m hurriedly, went into the kitchen Wh I had cosed the door, and followd, with th umbrela in my hand, I found hr stting o the corner of the fender—it was a lo iro one, with two flat bars at top to stand plate upo—in th shado of th boiler, swaying herself backwards and forwards, and chafig her hands upon her knee like a pers in pain. Quite alarmed at beg th only recipient of this untimely visit, and the only spetator of this portentous beaviour, I excaid agai, ‘Pray tell me, Mis Mowcher, what is the matter! are you ill?’ ‘My dear young soul,’ returned Mis Mowcher, squeezig her hands upon her heart one over the other. ‘I am il here, I am very i To think that it should c to this, when I might have known it and perhaps preveted it, if I hadn’t be a thughtls fo!’ Again hr large bot (very disproportiate to th figure) went backwards and forwards, in her sayig of her lttle body to and fro; while a most gigantic bot rocked, in unison wth it, upon the wal ‘I am surprised,’ I began, ‘to see you so distressed and serius’—whn she interrupted me ‘Yes, it’s alays so!’ she said. ‘Thy are al surprid, th Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 631 inconsiderate young people, fairly and full gron, to see any natural feeg in a lttle thing like m! They make a plaything of m, use m for their amuset, throw me away when they are tired, and wonder that I fee mre than a toy horse or a woode soldier! Ye, yes, that’s the way. The old way!’ ‘It may be, with othrs,’ I returned, ‘but I do assure you it is not with me Perhaps I ought not to be at all surprisd to se you as you are now: I kn so littl of you. I said, wthut consideration, what I thought.’ ‘What can I do?’ returned the little woman, standig up, and holdig out her arm to show herself. ‘See! What I am, my father was; and my sister is; and my brothr is. I have worked for sister and brother thes many years—hard, Mr. Copperfied—all day. I must live. I do n harm. If there are peopl so unreflectig or s rue, as to make a jet of me, what is left for me to do but to make a jest of mysf, them, and everythig? If I do s, for the ti, whose fault is that? Mine?’ No Not Mis Mowcher’s, I perceved. ‘If I had shon myself a sensitive dwarf to your false friend,’ pursued the little woman, shakig her head at m, with reproacful earntne, ‘how muc of his help or good will do you think I should ever have had? If little Mowcher (who had no hand, young gentleman, in th making of hersf) addressed hersf to , or the like of him, beause of her mifortune, when do you suppose hr sall vo would have be heard? Littl Mor wuld have as much ned to live, if she was th bitterest and dullest of pigm; but she couldn’t do it. No. She might wistl for her bread and butter ti she died of Ar.’ Miss Mor sat dow on th feder agai, and tok out hr Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 632 handkerchief, and wiped her eyes. ‘Be thankful for me, if you have a kid hart, as I thk you have,’ she said, ‘that while I kn we what I am, I can be cheerful and endure it all. I am thankful for myself, at any rate, that I can find my tiny way through the world, without beg beholde to anyo; and that in return for all that is thro at me, in foy or vanty, as I go along, I can throw bubbl back. If I do’t brood over al I want, it is the better for me, and not the worse for anyone If I am a plaything for you giants, be gentl with me’ Miss Mor replacd her handkercf in her pocket, looking at me with very intent expresion all th while, and pursued: ‘I saw you in th stret just now You may suppo I am not abl to walk as fast as you, with my short legs and short breath, and I couldn’t overtake you; but I guesd where you cam, and cam after you. I have be here before, today, but the good woman wasn’t at home’ ‘Do you know her?’ I deanded. of her, and about her,’ sh repld, ‘from Omr and ‘I kn Joram I was there at seven o’cock this morning. Do you remember what Sterforth said to me about this unfortunate girl, that tim when I saw you both at the in?’ The great bot on Mis Mowcher’s head, and the greater bonnet on the wall, began to go backwards and forwards agai en she asked th question. I rembered very wel what sh referred to, having had it in y thoughts many tim that day. I told her so ‘May the Father of al Evi cofound him,’ said the little woan, holdig up her forefinger between m and her sparklg eyes, ‘and ten tim mre cofound that wicked srvant; but I beved it was Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 633 you wh had a boyish passion for her!’ ‘I?’ I repeated. ‘Chld, chid! In th name of bld ill-fortun,’ cried Miss Mowcher, wringing her hands ipatietly, as sh went to and fro agai upon the fender, ‘why did you prai her so, and blush, and look diturbed? ‘ I culd nt cnceal from mysf that I had do this, though for a reason very different fro her supposition. ‘What did I know?’ said Miss Mor, taking out her handkerchief agai, and giving one little stamp on the ground wver, at short intervals, she applied it to hr eye wth both ands at once. ‘He was crosing you and whdling you, I saw; and you were soft wax in his hands, I saw Had I lft the room a minute, w his man told me that “Young Innocen” (s he alld you, and you may call him “Old Guit” all the days of your lfe) had set his heart upon her, and se was giddy and liked him, but his master was resolved that no harm should come of it—more for your sake than for hers—and that that was thr bus here? How could I but beeve him? I saw Steerforth soothe and please you by his praise of her! You were th first to mention hr nam You owned to an old admration of her. You were hot and cd, and red and white, al at onc when I spoke to you of her. did I think—but that you were a young What could I thk—wat liberti in everythng but experice, and had fallen ito hands that had experie enough, and could manage you (havig the fany) for your own good? Oh! oh! oh! They were afraid of my findig out the truth,’ excaid Mis Mowcher, getting off the fender, and trotting up and do the kitchen with her two short arms distressfully lifted up, ‘beause I am a sharp littl thg—I Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 634 nd be, to get through the world at al!—and they deved m altogether, and I gave the poor unfortunate girl a letter, whic I fully beve was the beging of her ever speakig to Littimr, who was left bed on purpose!’ I stood amazed at the revelatio of al this perfidy, lookig at Miss Mor as she walked up and dow th kitcn until she as out of breath: when she sat upo the fender agai, and, dryig her fac with her handkerchief, shook her head for a log tim, without otherwise moving, and without breakig s ‘My country rounds,’ she added at length, ‘brought me to Norwich, Mr. Cpperfield, th nght before last. What I happed to find there, about their seret way of cog and going, without you—wich was strange—led to my suspectig somethg wrog. I got into the coach from Londo last night, as it cam through Norwic, and was here this morning. Oh, oh, oh! too late!’ Poor lttle Mowcher turned s chy after al her crying and fretting, that s turned round on the fender, putting her poor lttle wet feet in amg the ashes to warm them, and sat lookig at the fire, lke a large do I sat in a chair on the other side of the harth, lost in unappy refltis, and looking at th fire to, and sometimes at her. ‘I must go,’ she said at last, rising as she spoke. ‘It’s late. You don’t mistrust me?’ Meting hr sharp glance, wich was as sharp as ever wh she asked me, I could not on that short challenge answr no, quite frankly. ‘Co!’ said she, acceptig th offer of my hand to hlp hr over the fender, and lookig wistfully up into my fac, ‘you know you wouldn’t mistrust me, if I was a ful-sized woman!’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 635 I felt that there was muc truth in this; and I felt rather ashamed of myself. ‘You are a young man,’ she said, ndding. ‘Take a wrd of advic, eve from three foot nothing. Try nt to asate bodiy defects with mental, my god friend, except for a solid reason.’ Sh had got over the fender now, and I had got over my suspicion. I told her that I beved she had given me a faithful account of hersf, and that we had both be hapls instruments in designng hands. She thanked me, and said I was a god fe ‘Now, md!’ s excaid, turning back on her way to the door, and lookig srewdly at me, with her forefinger up agai—‘I have so reason to suspect, from what I have heard—my ears are always ope; I can’t afford to spare what powrs I have—that they are go abroad. But if ever they return, if ever any one of th returns, while I am alive, I am more likely than anthr, going about as I do, to find it out soon. Whatever I know, you sal know. If ever I can do anythig to serve the poor betrayed girl, I wll do it faithfully, plase Heave! And Littimer had better have a bloodhound at his back, than little Mowcher!’ I placed implicit faith in this last statet, wh I marked th look with which it was accompanied. ‘Trust me no more, but trust me n le, than you would trust a full-sized wan,’ said th littl creature, toucng me appealingly on the writ. ‘If ever you see me agai, unlke what I am no, and lke what I was when you first saw me, obsrve what copany I am in Cal to mid that I am a very hepl and defe lttl thing. Think of me at ho with my brothr like myself and sister like myself, w my day’s wrk i done. Perhaps you wn’t, th, be very hard upon m, or surprisd if I can be ditresd and Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 636 serius. Good night!’ I gave Miss Mor my hand, with a very different opiion of her from that whic I had hitherto entertaid, and oped the door to lt her out. It was not a triflg bus to get the great umbrela up, and properly balanced in her grasp; but at last I succesfully accomplished this, and saw it go bobbig dow th treet through the rai, without the least appearanc of having anybody undernath it, except w a heavier fal than usual fro some over-carged water-spout sent it toppling over, on on side, and divered Mis Mowcher strugglig violetly to get it right. After makig on or two sall to her relf, whic were rendered futile by th umbrea’s hopping on again, like an immen bird, before I could reach it, I came in, went to bed, and spt ti morng. In the mornig I was joind by Mr. Peggotty and by my old nurse, and we went at an early hour to the cach offic, where Mrs. Gummidge and Ham were waiting to take leave of us ‘Mas’r Davy,’ Ham whispered, drawing me aside, wile Mr. Peggotty was stowing his bag among the luggage, ‘h life i quite broke up. He doen’t know wheer he’s going; he doen’t know— what’s afore him; he’s bound upo a voyage that’l last, o and off, all th rest of his days, take my wured for ‘t, unless h fids wat he’s a sekig of. I am sure you’ll be a frid to him, Mas’r Davy?’ ‘Trust me, I wi indeed,’ said I, shaking hands with Ham earntly. ‘Thankee. Thankee, very kid, sr. One thg furder. I’m in good employ, you know, Mas’r Davy, and I han’t no way now of spendig what I gets. Money’s of n use to me n more, excpt to lve. If you can lay it out for him, I sal do my work with a better Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 637 art. Though as to that, sir,’ and he spoke very steadiy and midly, ‘you’re not to think but I shall work at all times, like a man, and act th best that lays in my powr!’ I told h I was wll conviced of it; and I hinted that I hoped the tim might eve co, when he would case to lad the ly life he naturaly conteplated now ‘No, sir,’ h said, shaking hs had, ‘all that’s past and over wth me, sir. No on can never fi th place that’s epty. But you’ll bear in mid about th money, as thr’s at all times some laying by for him?’ Redig hi of the fact, that Mr. Peggotty derived a steady, though certaiy a very moderate in from the bequest of hi ate brother-in-law, I promed to do s We then took leave of eac other. I cant lave him even n, wthout reberig wth a pang, at once his modest fortitude and his great sorro As to Mrs. Gummidge, if I were to edeavour to describe h e ran do the street by the side of the coach, seg nthg but Mr. Peggotty on the roof, through the tears sh tried to repress, and dashing hersf against th people wh were comng in th opposte direction, I should enter on a task of some difficulty. Therefore I had better leave her sittig on a baker’s door-step, out of breath, with no shape at all remaig i her bonnet, and one of her shoes off, lyig on the pavemet at a considerable distance. Wh we got to our journey’s end, our first pursuit was to look about for a little lodgig for Peggotty, where her brother culd have a bed. We were so fortunate as to fid on, of a very can and cheap description, over a chandlr’s shop, only tw strets removed fro me. Whe we had engaged this domicile, I bought Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 638 some cold meat at an eating-huse, and tok my fe-travellers home to tea; a proceedig, I regret to state, wh did not meet with Mrs. Crupp’s approval, but quite the cotrary. I ought to observe, hver, in explanation of that lady’s state of mind, that she was much offended by Peggotty’s tucking up her widow’s gown before sh had be ten mutes in the place, and stting to work to dust my bedroom. This Mrs. Crupp regarded in the light of a liberty, and a liberty, she said, was a thing she never allowd. Mr. Peggotty had made a cuniati to me on the way to London for which I was not unprepared. It was, that he purpod first seg Mrs. Sterforth. As I felt bound to ast hi i this, and als to mediate betwee them; with the vie of sparing the mther’s feegs as muc as pobl, I wrote to her that night. I told her as mdly as I culd what his wrong was, and what my own share in his injury. I said he was a man in very com life, but of a mt gentl and upright character; and that I ventured to express a hpe that she wuld not refuse to see hi in his heavy trouble. I metid two o’cock in the afternoon as the hour of our cog, and I set the ltter mysf by the first cach in the morng. t the appoted tim, we stood at the door—the door of that house where I had be, a few days sie, s happy: where my youthful cfidence and warmth of heart had been yielded up s frey: whic was closed agait m henceforth: whic was nw a waste, a ruin No Littimer appeared. Th pleasanter face which had replaced his, on th ocas of my last visit, answered to our sums, and went before us to the drawg-room. Mrs. Sterforth was ttig thre Roa Dartl glded, as we wet in, fro anthr part Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 639 of the room and stood bed her chair. I saw, diretly, in his mother’s fac, that she knew from himelf wat he had do. It was very pal; and bore the trac of deeper eotio than my letter alone, weaked by the doubts her fondness would have raid upo it, wuld have be likely to reate. I thought her more like him than ever I had thought her; and I felt, rather than saw, that the resblan was not lt on my companion. Sh sat upright i her arm-cair, with a statey, imvable, passion air, that it sed as if nothing could disturb. She ooked very steadfastly at Mr. Peggotty when he stood before her; and he looked quite as steadfastly at hr. Rosa Dartle’s kee glance comprended all of us. For some moments not a wrd was spoken. Sh motioned to Mr. Peggotty to be seated. He said, i a lo voice, ‘I shouldn’t fe it nat’ral, ma’am, to sit dow in this house I’d soor stand.’ And this was sucded by anothr silen, wich she broke thus: ‘I know, with dep regret, what has brought you here. What do you want of me? What do you ask me to do?’ He put his hat under his arm, and feing in hs breast for Emy’s letter, took it out, unfolded it, and gave it to her. ‘Plas to read that, ma’am. That’s my niece’s hand!’ She read it, in th same statey and impassive way,—untouched by its contets, as far as I could see,—and returnd it to him. ‘“Unless he brigs me back a lady,”’ said Mr. Peggotty, tracing out that part with his finger. ‘I co to know, ma’am, whether he wil kep his wured?’ ‘No,’ she returned. Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 640 ‘Why not?’ said Mr. Peggotty. ‘It is impossible. He would disgrace himself. You cant fai to know that she is far below him.’ ‘Raise her up!’ said Mr. Peggotty. ‘She is unducated and ignorant.’ ‘Maybe she’s not; maybe she is,’ said Mr. Peggotty. ‘I think nt, ma’am; but I’m n judge of them things. Teach her better!’ ‘Si you oblge me to speak more plaiy, wh I am very uning to do, hr humble conxions would reder such a thing imposble, if nothg el did.’ ‘Hark to this, ma’am,’ he returned, slowly and quietly. ‘You know what it is to love your child. So do I. If she was a hundred times my child, I couldn’t love her more. You doe’t kn what it is to lose your chid. I do. All th heaps of riche in th wureld would be nwt to m (if they was mi) to buy her back! But, save hr fro this disgrace, and she shal never be disgraced by us. Not one of us that sh’s growed up amg, not on of us that’s lived along with her and had her for their al in all, thes many year, wil ver look upo her pritty face again. We’ll be contet to let hr be; w’ll be contet to think of her, far off, as if she was undernath another sun and sky; we’ll be ctet to trust her to her husband,—to her littl chidre, p’raps,—and bide th time w all of us shall be alike in quality afore our God!’ The rugged eloquen with whic he spoke, was not devoid of all effect. She still prerved her proud manner, but thre was a touc of softness in her voice, as she answered: ‘I justify nothing. I make no counter-accusati But I am sorry to repeat, it is imposble. Such a marriage wuld irretrievably blight my son’s carer, and ruin his prospects. Nothg is more Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 641 certain than that it never can take place, and never w If thre is any other copeatio—’ ‘I am lookig at the like of the fac,’ iterrupted Mr. Peggotty, with a steady but a kidlg eye, ‘that has looked at me, in my h, at my fireside, in my boat—wr not?—smiling and friendly, wh it was so treacherous, that I go half wid wh I think of it. If the lke of that fac do’t turn to burng fire, at th thught of offering money to me for my child’s blight and ruin, it’s as bad. I doen’t kn, beg a lady’s, but what it’s worse.’ She changed now, in a moment. A angry flus overspread her feature; and she said, i an intolerant manr, grasping th armcair tightly with her hands: me for opeing such a pit ‘What copesati can you make to betw me and my son? What is your love to mine? What is your separati to ours?’ Miss Dartle softly toucd her, and bent dow hr had to isper, but she would not hear a word. ‘No, Roa, nt a word! Let the man lte to what I say! My s, who has be the object of my life, to whom its every thought has be devoted, w I have gratified fro a child in every wish, from whom I have had n separate existenc si his birth,—to take up in a moment with a miserabl girl, and avod me! To repay my confidece with systeati deception, for hr sake, and quit m for her! To set this wretcd fany, agait his mther’s clai upo his duty, love, respect, gratitude—claims that every day and hour of his life should have strengthened into ties that nthing could be prof agait! Is this no injury?’ Again Rosa Dartle tried to sooth her; again inffectually. ‘I say, Rosa, not a word! If he can stake his all upo th lightest Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 642 object, I can stake my al upon a greater purpose. Let him go where he wil, with the means that my lve has seured to him! Do h think to reduce me by long abse? He kns hi ther very little if he do Let him put away his whim now, and he is welce back. Let him nt put her away nw, and he nver shall come near me, living or dying, wh I can raise my hand to make a sign against it, unless, beig rid of her for ever, he comes humbly to m and begs for my forgive This is my right. This will have. This is th separati that is th acknowledget I thre is betw us! And is this,’ she added, looking at hr visitor with the proud intolerant air with whic sh had begun, ‘n jury?’ Whe I heard and saw the mother as she said the wrds, I seemed to hear and see the so, defyig them. A that I had ever se in him of an unyiding, wlful spirit, I saw i hr. All th understandig that I had now of hi mdireted ergy, beam an understanding of her character to, and a percpti that it was, in its stronget sprigs, th same. Sh now obsrved to m, aloud, resumg her former restrait, that it was usss to hear more, or to say more, and that she begged to put an ed to the intervie Sh rose with an air of dignity to leave the room, when Mr. Peggotty signfied that it was eedl ‘Doen’t fear m beg any hindranc to you, I have no mre to say, ma’am,’ he rearked, as he moved toards the door. ‘I come beer with no hope, and I take away no hope I have done wat I thowt should be do, but I nver looked fur any good to co of my stan’ng whre I do. This has be to evil a house fur me and mine, fur me to be in my right sens and expect it.’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 643 With this, we departed; lavig her standig by her ebowchair, a picture of a nobl prece and a handsome face. We had, on our way out, to cross a paved hal, with glass sides and roof, over whic a vin was traid. Its leaves and shoots were gree then, and the day beg suny, a pair of glas doors ladig to the garde were thrown ope Roa Dartle, entering this way wth a no step, when we were close to them, addresd herself to me: ‘You do we,’ she said, ‘indeed, to brig this fell here!’ Such a concentration of rage and scrn as darked her face, and flashed i her jet-black eyes, I culd nt have thought compressible eve into that fac. Th scar made by th hammer was, as usual in this excited state of her feature, strongly marked. Wh the throbbig I had se before, cam into it as I looked at hr, she absolutely lifted up her hand, and struck it. ‘This is a fe,’ she said, ‘to champion and bring here, is h not? You are a true man!’ ‘Miss Dartle,’ I returnd, ‘you are surely not so unjust as to ndemn me!’ ‘Why do you bring division betw th tw mad creatures?’ s returned. ‘Don’t you know that they are both mad with their on self-will and pride?’ ‘Is it my doing?’ I returnd. ‘Is it your doing!’ she retorted. ‘Why do you bring this man here?’ ‘He i a deeply-ijured man, Mi Dartl,’ I repld. ‘You may nt kn it.’ ‘I know that Jam Steerforth,’ she said, with her hand o her bo, as if to prevet the storm that was raging there, from beg Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 644 loud, ‘has a fal, corrupt heart, and is a traitor. But wat ned I know or care about this fellow, and his common ni?’ ‘Miss Dartle,’ I returnd, ‘you deepe th injury. It is suffit already. I will only say, at parting, that you do him a great wrong.’ ‘I do hi no wrog,’ she returnd. ‘Thy are a depraved, wrthss set. I would have her whipped!’ Mr. Peggotty pasd on, without a word, and went out at the door. ‘Oh, sham, Miss Dartle! sham!’ I said indignantly. ‘Ho can you bear to trample on his undeserved affliction!’ ‘I would trample on them al,’ she anered. ‘I wuld have hi use pulled dow. I would have her branded on th face, dred in rags, and cast out i th strets to starve. If I had th powr to sit in judget on her, I would see it done. See it done? I wuld do it! I detest her. If I ever could reproach hr wth hr infamous ndition, I wuld go anywre to do so. If I could hunt her to her grave, I would. If there was any word of cofort that would be a solace to her in her dyig hour, and only I posd it, I wouldn’t part with it for Life itself.’ Th mere vemence of her words can convey, I am sensible, but a wak ipre of th passion by which she was possesd, and wich made itself articulate in her wh figure, thugh her voice, instead of beg raid, was lowr than usual. No description I could give of her would do justice to my rellection of her, or to her entire deveran of herself to her anger. I have se pasion in many forms, but I have never se it in such a form as that. Wh I joind Mr. Peggotty, he was walkig slowly and thoughtfully down the hill He told me, as soon as I cam up with Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 645 hi, that having nw diarged his mind of what he had purposed dog in London, he mant ‘to set out on hi travels’, that nght. I asked him where he meant to go? He only ansred, ‘I’m a gog, sir, to seek my niece.’ We went back to the little ldgig over the chandlr’s shop, and there I found an opportunity of repeatig to Peggotty what he had said to me. She informd me, in return, that he had said th same to hr that morning. She knew no more than I did, whre he was going, but sh thought he had s project saped out i hi mind. I did not lke to leave him, under such circumstances, and we al three did together off a beefsteak pie—wh was one of th any good things for whic Peggotty was famus—and whic was curiusly flavoured on this occasi, I ret w, by a miscelanus taste of tea, coffe, butter, bacon, che, ne loave, fired, candles, and walut ketcup, contiually asdig from the shop. After dir we sat for an hour or s ar the window, without talkig muc; and then Mr. Peggotty got up, and brought his oilskin bag and his stout stick, and laid th on the table He accepted, fro his sister’s stok of ready mony, a small um on acunt of his lgacy; barely enough, I should have thought, to keep him for a moth. He promd to cuniate with me, when anything befel hi; and he slung his bag about hi, took his hat and stik, and bade us both ‘Good-bye!’ ‘A good attend you, dear od woman,’ he said, ebracg Peggotty, ‘and you to, Mas’r Davy!’ shakig hands wth me. ‘I’m a-going to seek her, fur and wide If she should c home whil I’m away—but ah, that ain’t like to be!—or if I should brig her Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 646 back, my meang is, that she and me shall live and di wre no one can’t reproac her. If any hurt should co to me, remeber that the last words I lft for her was, “My uncanged lve is with my darling child, and I forgive her!”’ He said this solemnly, bare-haded; th, putting on his hat, he went down the stairs, and away. We fowed to the door. It was a warm, dusty evenig, just the ti when, in the great mai thoroughfare out of whic that by-way turned, there was a teporary lul in the eternal tread of feet upon the pavet, and a strong red sun He turned, alone, at the crner of our sady stret, into a gl of light, in which we lost him. Rarely did that hour of the eveg co, rarely did I wake at nght, rarely did I look up at the moon, or stars, or watch the falg rain, or hear the wind, but I thought of his sotary figure toiling on, poor pilgrim, and reald th words: ‘I’m a going to sek her, fur and wide If any hurt should c to me, rember that the last words I lft for her was, “My unchanged love is with my darlg chid, and I forgive her!”’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 647 Chapter 33 BLISSFUL All this time, I had go on loving Dora, harder than ever. Her idea was my refuge in disappoitmt and distress, and made s amends to m, even for the lo of my frid. The more I pitied myself, or pitid othrs, th more I sought for consolation i the image of Dora. The greater the acumulation of det and trouble i the world, the brighter and the purer shone the star of Dora high above the world. I do’t think I had any defite idea were Dora cam from, or i what degree she was reated to a higher order of begs; but I am quite sure I should have scouted the notion of her beg siply human, like any other young lady, wth indignation and contept. If I may so express it, I was steped in Dora. I was not merely over head and ears in love with her, but I was saturated through and through. Enough lve mght have be wrung out of me, mtaphoricaly speakig, to drown anybody i; and yet there uld have remained enugh within me, and all over me, to pervade my entire existece. The first thing I did, on my own accunt, when I cam back, was to take a night-walk to Norwood, and, lke the subjet of a venerable riddl of my chdhood, to go ‘round and round the house, without ever touchig the house’, thinking about Dora. I believe th th of this incompreble conundrum was th moo No matter what it was, I, th moo-struck slave of Dora, perambulated round and round the house and garde for two Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 648 hurs, looking through crevices in th palings, getting my chin by dit of violet exertion above the rusty nai on the top, blowig kisses at th lights in th windows, and romantically calling o th ght, at interval, to shd my Dora—I do’t exactly know what fro, I suppose fro fire. Perhaps fro mice, to wich she had a great objecti My love was so much in my mind and it was so natural to me to nfide in Peggotty, wh I found her again by my side of an veg with the old st of industrial iplts, busy makig the tour of my wardrobe, that I imparted to her, in a suffictly roundabout way, my great seret. Peggotty was strongly iterested, but I could not get her into my vie of the cas at al She was audaciously prejudiced in my favour, and quite unable to understand why I should have any misgivings, or be low-spirited about it. ‘The young lady might think hersef well off,’ s bserved, ‘to have such a beau. Ad as to her Pa,’ she said, ‘what did th gentleman expect, for gracious sake!’ I obsrved, however, that Mr. Spenl’s proctorial go and stiff cravat took Peggotty down a lttle, and inpired her with a greater reveren for the man who was gradually beg mre and more etherealzed i my eyes every day, and about whom a refleted radianc sd to me to beam when he sat eret in urt among his papers, lke a littl lighthuse in a sea of stationery. Ad by th by, it usd to be unly strange to me to coder, I remeber, as I sat in Court too, how those di old judge and doctors wuldn’t have cared for Dora, if thy had known her; how they wouldn’t have gone out of their senses with rapture, if marriage with Dora had be proposed to them; how Dora mght have sung, and played upon that glorifid guitar, until Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 649 she led me to the verge of madn, yet not have tempted one of those slow-goers an in out of his road! I despised th, to a man. Froze-out od garders in th flower-beds of the heart, I took a personal offene agait them al The Benh was nthing to me but an inbl blunderer. The Bar had n more tendern or potry in it, than the bar of a public-huse Takig the managemt of Peggotty’s affairs into my own hands, with no littl pride, I proved th will, and came to a sttlet with the Legacy Duty-offic, and took her to the Bank, and soon got everything into an orderly trai We varied the legal character of th prodings by going to se some perspirig Wax-wrk, in Fleet Street (melted, I should hope, the twenty years); and by viting Miss Linwod’s Exhbiti, which I reber as a Mausoeum of needlrk, favourabl to sefexamination and repentance; and by inspectig th Tor of London; and going to the top of St. Paul’s Al thes wonders afforded Peggotty as muc pleasure as she was abl to enjoy, under existig circumstances: except, I thk, St. Paul’s, wich, from her log attact to her work-box, beam a rival of the picture o th ld, and was, in some particulars, vanquished, she dered, by that work of art. Peggotty’s business, wich was what we usd to call ‘commonform busine’ i th Cmmons (and very light and lucrative th -form bus was), beg settled, I took her down to the offic one mrnig to pay her bi Mr. Spew had stepped out, old Tiffey said, to get a gentlan sorn for a marriage li; but as I kn he would be back directly, our place lying c to the Surrogate’s, and to the Vicar-Geral’s offic too, I told Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 650 Peggotty to wait. We were a little like undertakers, in the Commons, as regarded Probate transactions; geraly making it a rule to look more or less cut up, wh we had to deal with clients in mournng. In a sar feeg of delicacy, we were always blithe and lght-hearted with the li clts Therefore I hinted to Peggotty that s would find Mr. Spew muc recvered from the shock of Mr. Barkis’s decease; and indeed he came in like a bridegro But nether Peggotty nor I had eyes for him, when we saw, i pany with him, Mr. Murdstone. He was very little changed. His hair looked as thk, and was certainly as black, as ever; and hi glanc was as lttle to be trusted as of old. ‘Ah, Copperfield?’ said Mr. Spenl ‘You kn this getlman, I beeve?’ I made my gentlan a ditant bow, and Peggotty barely regnized hm. He was, at first, somewat discrted to meet us two together; but quickly deded what to do, and cam up to me. ‘I hope,’ he said, ‘that you are doig we?’ ‘It can hardly be interesting to you,’ said I. ‘Ye, if you wish to know’ We looked at eac other, and he addresd himf to Peggotty. ‘And you,’ said he. ‘I am sorry to observe that you have lst your husband.’ ‘It’s nt the first lo I have had in my lfe, Mr. Murdstone,’ repld Peggotty, tremblg from head to foot. ‘I am glad to hope that there is nobody to blame for this one,—nbody to anr for it.’ ‘Ha!’ said he; ‘that’s a cfortable refletion. You have do Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 651 your duty?’ ‘I have not worn anybody’s life away,’ said Peggotty, ‘I am thankful to think! No, Mr. Murdstone, I have not worrited and frightened any seet creetur to an early grave!’ He eyed her gloomiy—remrsefuly I thought—for an intant; and said, turning his head toards me, but lookig at my fet instead of my face: ‘We are not likely to enunter soo again;—a source of satisfacti to us both, no doubt, for such meetings as this can ver be agreeable. I do not expet that you, who alays rebeed agait my just authority, exerted for your befit and reformati, should owe me any good-wil no There is an antipathy betwee us—’ ‘An old on, I believe?’ said I, interrupting him. He smild, and shot as evil a glance at me as could come fro dark eyes ‘It rankld in your baby breast,’ he said. ‘It embittered the life of your poor mother. You are right. I hope you may do better, yet; I hope you may correct yoursf.’ Here he ended the dialogue, whic had be carried o i a lo voice, in a cornr of th outer office, by passg into Mr. Spelow’s room, and saying aloud, i hi smoothest manr: ‘Gentl of Mr. Spenlow’s profession are accustod to family differe, and kn ho complicated and difficult thy always are!’ With that, he paid th money for his licence; and, recvig it natly folded from Mr. Spew, together with a sake of the hand, and a pote wis for hi happi and the lady’s, went out of the offic I might have had more difficulty i cotraining myself to be Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 652 silent under his wrds, if I had had less difficulty in impresing upon Peggotty (who was only angry on my acunt, good creature!) that w wre not in a plac for recrimination, and that I beught her to hold her peace. She was so unusually roused, that I was glad to compound for an affectionate hug, elicited by this revival i her md of our old injurie, and to make the bet I could of it, before Mr. Spenlow and th clerks Mr. Spenlow did not appear to know what th conxion betwee Mr. Murdstone and mysf was; whic I was glad of, for I could not bear to acknledge him, eve in my own breast, remebering what I did of the history of my poor mther. Mr. Spew sed to think, if he thought anything about the matter, that my aunt was the lader of the state party in our famy, and that thre was a rebe party comanded by somebody e—so I gathered at least from what he said, whil we were waitig for Mr. Tiffey to make out Peggotty’s bi of cots ‘Miss Trotwd,’ he remarked, ‘is very firm, no doubt, and not lkey to give way to oppotion. I have an admration for her character, and I may congratulate you, Copperfield, on being on the right side Differen betwee relatio are muc to be deplored—but they are extremely geral—and the great thg i, to be on the right side’: meang, I take it, o the sde of the moneyed interest. ‘Rather a good marriage this, I beve?’ said Mr. Spe I explaid that I kn nthing about it. ‘Inded!’ he said. ‘Speakig from the few words Mr. Murdstone dropped—as a man frequently do on the occas—and from at Miss Murdsto let fall, I should say it was rathr a god marriage’ Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 653 ‘Do you mean that thre is money, sir?’ I asked. ‘Yes,’ said Mr. Spen, ‘I understand there’s mony. Beauty to, I am tod.’ ‘Indeed! Is his ne wife young?’ ‘Just of age,’ said Mr. Spenl ‘So latey, that I shuld thk they had be waitig for that.’ ‘Lord deliver her!’ said Peggotty. So very emphatically and unxpectedly, that we were all thre discposed; until Tiffey came in with th bi Old Tiffey soon appeared, however, and handed it to Mr. Spenlow, to look over. Mr. Spenlow, settling his chi in hi cravat and rubbing it softly, wnt over th ites with a depreatory air— as if it were all Jorkins’s doing—and handed it back to Tiffey wth a bland sigh ‘Ye,’ he said. ‘That’s right. Quite right. I should have be extremely happy, Copperfield, to have lited the charge to th actual expenditure out of pocket, but it is an irksom icident in my professional life, that I am not at liberty to consult my o wis I have a partner—Mr. Jorki’ As he said this with a gentle melancholy, which was th nxt thing to making no charge at all, I expressed my acknowledgets on Peggotty’s behalf, and paid Tiffey in bankntes Peggotty then retired to her ldgig, and Mr. Spe and I wt ito Court, where we had a divorce-suit cog on, under an ingeous little statute (repealed n, I beeve, but i virtue of whic I have se several marriage anulld), of whic the merits were the. The husband, whose nam was Thomas Benjamin, had taken out his marriage licence as Thas only; suppreng th Benjamin, in case he should not find himself as Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 654 comfortabl as he expected. Not findig himf as cofortable as he expeted, or beg a little fatigued with his wife, poor fellow, he now came forward, by a friend, after beig marrid a year or tw, and decared that his name was Thas Benjami, and threfore he was not married at all Wh the Court cofirmd, to his great satisfacti I must say that I had my doubts about th strict justice of this, and was nt even frightened out of them by the busel of wheat wich rencil all analies. But Mr. Spelow argued th atter with me He said, Look at the world, there was good and evi i that; look at the eccastial law, there was good and evi in that. It was al part of a system. Very god. There you were! I had nt the hardihood to suggest to Dora’s father that pobly we mght eve iprove the world a little, if we got up early in the mrnig, and took off our coats to the work; but I cfed that I thought we might improve the Co Mr. Spew repld that h wuld particularly advise me to dismiss that idea fro my mnd, as nt beg worthy of my gentlany character; but that he would be glad to hear from me of what iprovement I thought th Cmmons susceptible? Taking that part of th Commons which happened to be nearet to us—for our man was unmarried by this tim, and we were out of Court, and strog past th Prerogative Office—I submitted that I thought the Prerogative Offic rather a queerly managed institution. Mr. Spenlow iquired in what respect? I replied, with all due deference to his experice (but with more deference, I am afraid, to his being Dora’s fathr), that perhaps it was a littl nonsenical that th Registry of that Court, containing th origial lls of all perss leavig effects with th imme province of Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 655 Canterbury, for thre wh centuries, should be an accidental buidig, never degnd for the purpose, leasd by the registrars for their Ow private emoumet, unsafe, nt even asrtaid to be fire-prof, choked with th important documents it hd, and positivey, fro th rof to th basement, a mercary speculati of the registrars, who took great fees from the publ, and crammed th public’s wis away anyh and anywre, having no other object than to get rid of them chaply. That, perhaps, it was a littl unreasable that th registrars in th receipt of profits amountig to eight or ni thousand pounds a year (to say nthing of th profits of th deputy registrars, and clerks of seats), should nt be obliged to sped a little of that my, i findig a reasonably safe place for th important documents wh al classes of people wre compelled to hand over to th, whthr thy would or no. That, perhaps, it was a lttl unjust, that all th great offices in this great office should be magnificent sinecures, we the unfortunate workig-cerks i the cd dark room upstairs were the worst rewarded, and the last codered m, doing iportant services, in Lodo. That perhaps it was a littl indecent that th pricipal registrar of all, wh duty it was to find th public, constantly resorting to this plac, all needful accomdation, should be an ermous sinecurist i virtue of that pot (and might be, bede, a clrgyman, a pluralt, the hder of a staff in a cathdral, and what not),—while th publ as put to th inconveience of which we had a specimen every aftern w th office was busy, and which we knew to be quite monstrous. That, perhaps, in short, this Prerogative Office of the diocese of Canterbury was altogether suc a petit job, and such a pernicious absurdity, that but for its beg squezed away Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 656 in a cornr of St. Paul’s Churchyard, which fe people knew, it must have bee turnd completely inde out, and upside dow, long ago Mr. Spenlow smiled as I became modestly warm on th subjet, and then argued this question with m as he had argued the other. He said, what was it after all? It was a questio of feeg. If the publ felt that their wil were in safe kepig, and took it for granted that the offic was nt to be made better, who was the wrs for it? Nobody. Who was th better for it? All th Sinecurists. Very we. Th th god predoated. It might not was perfect; but what he objected to, be a perfet syste; nothing was, the inrti of the wedge. Under the Prerogative Offic, th untry had be glorious. Inrt the wedge into the Prerogative Office, and th country would cease to be glrious. He cosidered it the pripl of a gentleman to take things as he found them; and he had n doubt the Prerogative Offic would last our ti. I deferred to his opin, though I had great doubts of it mysf. I find he was right, however; for it has not only lasted to the pret mt, but has do s in the teeth of a great parliamtary report made (not too wigly) eighteen years ago, wen al th bjections of mine were set forth in detail, and w th existing stoage for wills was described as equal to th accumulati of only tw years and a half more What thy have done with th since; whthr thy have lost many, or whthr thy sell any, now and then, to the butter shops; I do’t know. I am glad mi i nt there, and I hope it may not go there, yet aw I have set all this dow, in my pret blissful chapter, becaus re it comes into its natural place. Mr. Spenlow and I falling ito this conversati, proged it and our saunter to and fro, unti we Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 657 diverged into geral topics. Ad so it came about, in th end, that Mr. Spew told m this day week was Dora’s birthday, and he wuld be glad if I would come dow and jo a littl piic on th ccasi. I went out of my sen immediatey; became a mere drivellr nxt day, on rept of a lttle lac-edged seet of ntepaper, ‘Favoured by papa. To red’; and passed th interveg perid in a state of dotage I think I coitted every possibl absurdity in th way of preparati for th bld event. I turn hot wen I reber th cravat I bought. My bots might be placed in any coti of instruments of torture I provided, and sent dow by th Norwd cach the nght before, a deate little hamper, amountig in itself, I thught, almost to a declaration. Thre were crackers in it with the tenderet mttoes that could be got for moy. At six in the mornig, I was in Covent Garde Market, buying a bouquet for Dora. At ten I was on horseback (I hired a gallant grey, for the occason), with the bouquet in my hat, to kep it fresh, trotting down to Norwood. I suppo that when I saw Dora in the garden and preteded nt to see her, and rode past the house pretendig to be anxiously lookig for it, I comitted tw small fories which othr young gentlemen in my circumstances might have committed—becaus did find th thy cam so very natural to me But oh! wh I house, and did diount at the garde-gate, and drag those stonyhearted boots across the lawn to Dora stting on a garde-seat under a lilac tre, what a spetac she was, upo that beautiful rnig, among the butterfli, in a white chp bot and a dre f celestial blue! Thre was a young lady wth hr—comparativey stricken in years—almost twty, I should say. Her name was Miss Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 658 Mis. and Dora calld her Julia. She was th bosom friend of Dora. Happy Mi Mis! Jip was thre, and Jip would bark at me again. Whe I presented my bouquet, he gnashed his teeth with jealousy. We he mght. If he had the last idea how I adored hi mtress, wel he mght! ‘Oh, thank you, Mr. Copperfield! What dear flrs!’ said Dora. I had had an itention of saying (and had bee studying th bet form of words for three mi) that I thought them beautiful her. But I couldn’t manage it. She was before I saw th so near too bewilderig. To se her lay the flowers against her little dimpled chi, was to lose all prece of mind and powr of language i a feble ecstasy. I wonder I didn’t say, ‘Kil me, if you have a heart, Mis Mill Let me die here!’ Then Dora held my flowers to Jip to sm Then Jip growled, and wouldn’t sl them Then Dora laughed, and held them a lttle closer to Jip, to make him Then Jip laid hold of a bit of geranium with his teth, and worrid imagiary cats in it. Th Dora beat hm, and pouted, and said, ‘My poor beautiful flrs!’ as compassionately, I thught, as if Jip had laid hod of me. I wised he had! ‘You’ll be so glad to har, Mr. Copperfield,’ said Dora, ‘that that cross Miss Murdsto is not here. She has go to hr brothr’s marriage, and wi be away at least thre weks. Isn’t that deghtful?’ I said I was sure it must be delightful to her, and all that was delightful to hr was delightful to me. Miss Mis, with an air of superir wisdom and bevolence, smiled upo us ‘She i the mt diagreeable thg I ever saw,’ said Dora. ‘You Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 659 can’t beeve how il-tepered and shockig she i, Jula.’ ‘Yes, I can, my dear!’ said Jula. ‘You can, perhaps, love,’ returned Dora, with her hand on Jula’s. ‘Forgive my nt exceptig you, my dear, at first.’ I learnt, fro this, that Mi Mills had had her trials in th urs of a chequered existee; and that to the, perhaps, I mght refer that wis benignity of manner whic I had already noticed. i found, in th course of th day, that this was th case: Miss Mills having be unappy i a misplaced affection, and beg understood to have retired from the world o her awful stok of experice, but still to take a calm interest in th unblighted hopes and loves of youth. But now Mr. Spenlow cam out of the house, and Dora went to hm, saying, ‘Lok, papa, wat beautiful flrs!’ And Miss Mi ed thoughtfully, as who should say, ‘Ye Mayflies, ejoy your brief existence in th bright morning of life!’ And we all walked from the lawn towards the carriage, which was getting ready. I shall never have such a ride again. I have never had such another. There were only those three, their hamper, my hamper, and the guitar-cas, in the phaeton; and, of course, the phaeton was ope; and I rode bed it, and Dora sat with her back to the hrses, lookig toards me. She kept th bouquet clos to hr o th cushion, and wouldn’t allow Jip to sit on that side of her at al, for fear he should crush it. She often carried it i her hand, often refreshed herself with its fragrane. Our eyes at those ti ofte t; and my great astonit is that I didn’t go over the head of my gallant grey into the carriage There was dust, I beeve. There was a good deal of dust, I believe I have a fait impression that Mr. Spenlow remonstrated Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 660 wth me for riding in it; but I kn of none I was sensible of a mist of lve and beauty about Dora, but of nothing el He stood up sometimes, and asked me what I thught of th prospect. I said it was delightful, and I dare say it was; but it was all Dora to me. Th un she Dora, and the birds sang Dora. The suth wd blew Dora, and the wid flowers in the hedges were al Doras, to a bud. My comfort is, Miss Mis understod me. Mi Mis alon could eter into my feegs thoroughly. I do’t know how log we were going, and to this hour I know as lttle were w wet. Perhaps it was nar Guidford. Perhaps Arabian-nght magian, oped up the place for the day, and shut it up for ever when we came away. It was a green spot, on a hil, carpeted with soft turf. There were shady trees, and heather, and, as far as the eye could see, a ri landsape. It was a trying thing to find people here, waiting for us; and my jealousy, even of the ladi, knew n bounds. But al of my own x—especially on impostor, thre or four years my elder, with a red wisker, on which he established an amount of preumption not to be endured—wre my mortal fo We all unpacked our baskets, and emplyed oursves in getting dinnr ready. Red Whisker preteded h could make a salad (wich I don’t beve), and obtruded himsef on public ntic So of the young ladi wasd the lettuce for him, and sliced th under hi directions. Dora was among th I felt that fate had pitted me against this man, and on of us must fal Red Whisker made his salad (I wondered ho thy could eat it. Nothing should have inducd me to touch it!) and voted hif ito the charge of the win-cear, whic he ctructed, beg an igenious beast, in the hollow trunk of a tree By and by, I saw Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 661 hi, with the majority of a lobster on his plate, eating hi dinner at the feet of Dora! I have but an indistinct idea of what happed for some time after this baleful object preted itself to my vi. I was very merry, I know; but it was holow merriment. I attached myself to a young creature in pink, with little eye, and flrted with her desperately. She received my attentions with favour; but whthr o my account solely, or becaus she had any design on Red Whisker, I can’t say. Dora’s health was drunk. Whe I drank it, I affected to interrupt my conversati for that purpo, and to resume it immediatey afterwards. I caught Dora’s eye as I bowd to her, and I thought it looked appealg. But it looked at m over th head of Red Whisker, and I was adamant. The young creature in pik had a mother in gree; and I rather think the latter separated us from mtives of poy. Howbet, there was a geral breakig up of the party, whe the reants of the dir were beg put away; and I strolled off by mysf among the tree, i a raging and remrseful state I was debating wether I should pretend that I was not we, and fly—I do’t know were—upon my galant grey, wen Dora and Mi Mi met me. ‘Mr. Copperfield,’ said Miss Mis, ‘you are dul.’ I begged her pardon. Not at all. you are dul.’ ‘And Dora,’ said Mi Mi, ‘ Oh dear no! Not in th least. ‘Mr. Cpperfield and Dora,’ said Miss Mis, with an almost verabl air. ‘Enough of this. Do not allow a trivial misunderstanding to withr th blssoms of spring, wh, once put forth and blighted, cannot be red. I speak,’ said Miss Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 662 Mis, ‘from experice of th past—th remote, irrevocabl past. Th gushing fountais which sparkle in th sun, must not be stopped in mere caprice; th oasis in th desert of Sahara must not be plucked up idly.’ I hardly knew wat I did, I was burng al over to that extraordiary extent; but I took Dora’s lttle hand and kid it— and she let me! I kissed Miss Mis’s hand; and we all seed, to y thinkig, to go straight up to the seventh heave We did nt c do agai We stayed up there al the evenig. At first we trayed to and fro amg the tree: I with Dora’s shy arm draw through mine: and Heave kns, foy as it all was, it would have been a happy fate to have be struck imrtal with those fooli feeligs, and have stayed amg the trees for ever! But, muc too soon, we heard the others laughing and talkig, and calg ‘whre’s Dora?’ So we wet back, and they wanted Dora to sig. Red Whker would have got the guitar-cas out of the carriage, but Dora tod him nobody knew where it was, but I. So Red Whisker was done for in a moment; and I got it, and I unlocked it, and I took the guitar out, and I sat by her, and I held her handkerchief and gloves, and I drank in every note of her dear voice, and she sang to me who loved her, and al the others mght applaud as muc as they liked, but they had nothing to do with it! I was intoxicated with joy. I was afraid it was to happy to be real, and that I should wake in Buckingham Stret pretly, and hear Mrs. Crupp clkig the teacups in getting breakfast ready. But Dora sang, and othrs sang, and Miss Mis sang—about th slumbering es i th caverns of Memory; as if she were a hundred years od—and th eveg came on; and we had tea, with the kettle bog gipsy-fason; and I was sti as happy as Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 663 ever. I was happier than ever wh th party broke up, and th othr people, defeated Red Whisker and all, went thr several ways, and we went ours through the sti eveg and the dyig light, wth swet scents ring up around us Mr. Spe beig a littl drowsy after the champagn—honour to the so that grew the grape, to the grape that made the win, to the sun that riped it, and to the merchant who adulterated it!—and beg fast aslp i a corner of the carriage, I rode by the side and talked to Dora. Sh admired my hrse and patted him—o, what a dear littl hand it looked upo a horse!—and her shaw would nt keep right, and now and th I dre it round her with my arm; and I eve fancied that Jip began to se how it was, and to understand that he must make up hi mind to be friends with me. That sagacous Mis Mill, too; that amiable, though quite used up, recuse; that little patriarch of sthing l than twenty, w had done with th wrld, and mustn’t o any account have the slumbering echoes in the caverns of Memry awaked; what a kind thing she did! ‘Mr. Cpperfield,’ said Miss Mis, ‘c to this side of th carriage a moment—if you can spare a moment. I want to speak to you.’ Behold m, o my gallant grey, bendig at the side of Mis Mis, with my hand upo the carriage door! ‘Dora is coming to stay with me. She is coming ho with me the day after tomorrow. If you would like to call, I am sure papa wuld be happy to see you.’ What could I do but ivoke a silent blsing on Miss Mis’s head, and store Miss Mis’s addre in th curest cornr of my memory! What could I do but te Mi Mis, Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 664 wth grateful looks and fervet words, ho much I appreiated her god offices, and what an inestiabl value I set upo her friendship! Th Miss Mis benignantly dismissed me, sayig, ‘Go back to Dora!’ and I went; and Dora laned out of the carriage to talk to me, and we talked all th rest of th way; and I rode my gallant grey s cose to the whee that I grazed his near fore leg agait it, and ‘took the bark off’, as his ownr told me, ‘to the tune of three pun’ sivin’—which I paid, and thught extrey cheap for so much joy. What time Miss Mis sat looking at th moo, murmuring vers—and realing, I suppo, th ancient days she and earth had anythng in common Norwd was many miles to near, and w reached it many hours too soon; but Mr. Spew cam to hielf a little short of it, and said, ‘You must come in, Copperfield, and rest!’ and I consenting, w had sandwiche and wi-and-water. In th light ro, Dora blusng looked so lovely, that I could not tear myself away, but sat there starig, in a dream, until the snoring of Mr. Spenlow inspired me with sufficient concious to take my leave So w parted; I riding all th way to London with th farell touc of Dora’s hand still light on mine, recalling every incident and word ten thusand times; lyig dow i my on bed at last, as enraptured a young noodl as ever was carried out of hi five wits by love. Wh I awoke nxt mornig, I was resute to deare my passion to Dora, and kn my fate. Happines or miry was now the question. There was no other question that I kn of in the wrld, and only Dora could give th answer to it. I passed thre days i a luxury of wretchedness, torturing myself by putting Charles Dicke ElBook Classic David Copperfield 665 every coeivable variety of diuragig cotructi on al that ever had taken place betw Dora and me. At last, arrayed for th purpo at a vast expen, I went to Miss Mi’s, fraught with a decaration. Ho many times I went up and dow th stret, and round th quare—painfully aware of beg a muc better anr to the old riddle than th original on—before I could persuade myself to go up th steps and knk, is no matter now Eve wh, at last, I had knocked, and was waitig at the door, I had so flurried thought of askig if that were Mr. Blackboy’s (in itatin of poor Barki), begging pardon, and retreating. But I kept my ground. Mr. Mills was not at ho I did not expect h wuld be. Nobody wanted him. Miss Mis was at ho Miss Mis would do. I was shon into a ro upstairs, whre Miss Mis and Dora wre. Jip was thre Miss Mis was copyig music (I ret, it was a ne song, called ‘Affection’s Dirge’), and Dora was painting flrs. What were my feings, wh I regnized my ow flowers; the idential Covet Garden Market purchas! I canot say that they were very