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Charles Dickens
Chapter 17
Charles Dickens
 
 
1       It has not occurred to me to mention Peggotty since I ran away;
2  but, of course, I wrote her a letter almost as soon as I was housed
3  at Dover, and another, and a longer letter, containing all
4  particulars fully related, when my aunt took me formally under her
5  protection. On my being settled at Doctor Strong's I wrote to her
6  again, detailing my happy condition and prospects. I never could
7  have derived anything like the pleasure from spending the money Mr.
8  Dick had given me, that I felt in sending a gold half-guinea to
9  Peggotty, per post, enclosed in this last letter, to discharge the
10  sum I had borrowed of her: in which epistle, not before, I
11  mentioned about the young man with the donkey-cart.

12       To these communications Peggotty replied as promptly, if not as
13  concisely, as a merchant's clerk. Her utmost powers of expression
14  (which were certainly not great in ink) were exhausted in the
15  attempt to write what she felt on the subject of my journey. Four
16  sides of incoherent and interjectional beginnings of sentences,
17  that had no end, except blots, were inadequate to afford her any
18  relief. But the blots were more expressive to me than the best
19  composition; for they showed me that Peggotty had been crying all
20  over the paper, and what could I have desired more?

21       I made out, without much difficulty, that she could not take quite
22  kindly to my aunt yet. The notice was too short after so long a
23  prepossession the other way. We never knew a person, she wrote;
24  but to think that Miss Betsey should seem to be so different from
25  what she had been thought to be, was a Moral! - that was her word.
26  She was evidently still afraid of Miss Betsey, for she sent her
27  grateful duty to her but timidly; and she was evidently afraid of
28  me, too, and entertained the probability of my running away again
29  soon: if I might judge from the repeated hints she threw out, that
30  the coach-fare to Yarmouth was always to be had of her for the
31  asking.

32       She gave me one piece of intelligence which affected me very much,
33  namely, that there had been a sale of the furniture at our old
34  home, and that Mr. and Miss Murdstone were gone away, and the house
35  was shut up, to be let or sold. God knows I had no part in it
36  while they remained there, but it pained me to think of the dear
37  old place as altogether abandoned; of the weeds growing tall in the
38  garden, and the fallen leaves lying thick and wet upon the paths.
39  I imagined how the winds of winter would howl round it, how the
40  cold rain would beat upon the window-glass, how the moon would make
41  ghosts on the walls of the empty rooms, watching their solitude all
42  night. I thought afresh of the grave in the churchyard, underneath
43  the tree: and it seemed as if the house were dead too, now, and all
44  connected with my father and mother were faded away.

45       There was no other news in Peggotty's letters. Mr. Barkis was an
46  excellent husband, she said, though still a little near; but we all
47  had our faults, and she had plenty (though I am sure I don't know
48  what they were); and he sent his duty, and my little bedroom was
49  always ready for me. Mr. Peggotty was well, and Ham was well, and
50  Mrs.. Gummidge was but poorly, and little Em'ly wouldn't send her
51  love, but said that Peggotty might send it, if she liked.

52       All this intelligence I dutifully imparted to my aunt, only
53  reserving to myself the mention of little Em'ly, to whom I
54  instinctively felt that she would not very tenderly incline. While
55  I was yet new at Doctor Strong's, she made several excursions over
56  to Canterbury to see me, and always at unseasonable hours: with the
57  view, I suppose, of taking me by surprise. But, finding me well
58  employed, and bearing a good character, and hearing on all hands
59  that I rose fast in the school, she soon discontinued these visits.
60  I saw her on a Saturday, every third or fourth week, when I went
61  over to Dover for a treat; and I saw Mr. Dick every alternate
62  Wednesday, when he arrived by stage-coach at noon, to stay until
63  next morning.

64       On these occasions Mr. Dick never travelled without a leathern
65  writing-desk, containing a supply of stationery and the Memorial;
66  in relation to which document he had a notion that time was
67  beginning to press now, and that it really must be got out of hand.

68       Mr. Dick was very partial to gingerbread. To render his visits the
69  more agreeable, my aunt had instructed me to open a credit for him
70  at a cake shop, which was hampered with the stipulation that he
71  should not be served with more than one shilling's-worth in the
72  course of any one day. This, and the reference of all his little
73  bills at the county inn where he slept, to my aunt, before they
74  were paid, induced me to suspect that he was only allowed to rattle
75  his money, and not to spend it. I found on further investigation
76  that this was so, or at least there was an agreement between him
77  and my aunt that he should account to her for all his
78  disbursements. As he had no idea of deceiving her, and always
79  desired to please her, he was thus made chary of launching into
80  expense. On this point, as well as on all other possible points,
81  Mr. Dick was convinced that my aunt was the wisest and most
82  wonderful of women; as he repeatedly told me with infinite secrecy,
83  and always in a whisper.

84       'Trotwood,' said Mr. Dick, with an air of mystery, after imparting
85  this confidence to me, one Wednesday; 'who's the man that hides
86  near our house and frightens her?'

87       'Frightens my aunt, sir?'

88       Mr. Dick nodded. 'I thought nothing would have frightened her,' he
89  said, 'for she's -' here he whispered softly, 'don't mention it -
90  the wisest and most wonderful of women.' Having said which, he
91  drew back, to observe the effect which this description of her made
92  upon me.

93       'The first time he came,' said Mr. Dick, 'was- let me see- sixteen
94  hundred and forty-nine was the date of King Charles's execution.
95  I think you said sixteen hundred and forty-nine?'

96       'Yes, sir.'

97       'I don't know how it can be,' said Mr. Dick, sorely puzzled and
98  shaking his head. 'I don't think I am as old as that.'

99       'Was it in that year that the man appeared, sir?' I asked.

100       'Why, really' said Mr. Dick, 'I don't see how it can have been in
101  that year, Trotwood. Did you get that date out of history?'

102       'Yes, sir.'

103       'I suppose history never lies, does it?' said Mr. Dick, with a
104  gleam of hope.

105       'Oh dear, no, sir!' I replied, most decisively. I was ingenuous
106  and young, and I thought so.

107       'I can't make it out,' said Mr. Dick, shaking his head. 'There's
108  something wrong, somewhere. However, it was very soon after the
109  mistake was made of putting some of the trouble out of King
110  Charles's head into my head, that the man first came. I was
111  walking out with Miss Trotwood after tea, just at dark, and there
112  he was, close to our house.'

113       'Walking about?' I inquired.

114       'Walking about?' repeated Mr. Dick. 'Let me see, I must recollect
115  a bit. N-no, no; he was not walking about.'

116       I asked, as the shortest way to get at it, what he WAS doing.

117       'Well, he wasn't there at all,' said Mr. Dick, 'until he came up
118  behind her, and whispered. Then she turned round and fainted, and
119  I stood still and looked at him, and he walked away; but that he
120  should have been hiding ever since (in the ground or somewhere), is
121  the most extraordinary thing!'

122       'HAS he been hiding ever since?' I asked.

123       'To be sure he has,' retorted Mr. Dick, nodding his head gravely.
124  'Never came out, till last night! We were walking last night, and
125  he came up behind her again, and I knew him again.'

126       'And did he frighten my aunt again?'

127       'All of a shiver,' said Mr. Dick, counterfeiting that affection and
128  making his teeth chatter. 'Held by the palings. Cried. But,
129  Trotwood, come here,' getting me close to him, that he might
130  whisper very softly; 'why did she give him money, boy, in the
131  moonlight?'

132       'He was a beggar, perhaps.'

133       Mr. Dick shook his head, as utterly renouncing the suggestion; and
134  having replied a great many times, and with great confidence, 'No
135  beggar, no beggar, no beggar, sir!' went on to say, that from his
136  window he had afterwards, and late at night, seen my aunt give this
137  person money outside the garden rails in the moonlight, who then
138  slunk away - into the ground again, as he thought probable - and
139  was seen no more: while my aunt came hurriedly and secretly back
140  into the house, and had, even that morning, been quite different
141  from her usual self; which preyed on Mr. Dick's mind.

142       I had not the least belief, in the outset of this story, that the
143  unknown was anything but a delusion of Mr. Dick's, and one of the
144  line of that ill-fated Prince who occasioned him so much
145  difficulty; but after some reflection I began to entertain the
146  question whether an attempt, or threat of an attempt, might have
147  been twice made to take poor Mr. Dick himself from under my aunt's
148  protection, and whether my aunt, the strength of whose kind feeling
149  towards him I knew from herself, might have been induced to pay a
150  price for his peace and quiet. As I was already much attached to
151  Mr. Dick, and very solicitous for his welfare, my fears favoured
152  this supposition; and for a long time his Wednesday hardly ever
153  came round, without my entertaining a misgiving that he would not
154  be on the coach-box as usual. There he always appeared, however,
155  grey-headed, laughing, and happy; and he never had anything more to
156  tell of the man who could frighten my aunt.

157       These Wednesdays were the happiest days of Mr. Dick's life; they
158  were far from being the least happy of mine. He soon became known
159  to every boy in the school; and though he never took an active part
160  in any game but kite-flying, was as deeply interested in all our
161  sports as anyone among us. How often have I seen him, intent upon
162  a match at marbles or pegtop, looking on with a face of unutterable
163  interest, and hardly breathing at the critical times! How often,
164  at hare and hounds, have I seen him mounted on a little knoll,
165  cheering the whole field on to action, and waving his hat above his
166  grey head, oblivious of King Charles the Martyr's head, and all
167  belonging to it! How many a summer hour have I known to be but
168  blissful minutes to him in the cricket-field! How many winter days
169  have I seen him, standing blue-nosed, in the snow and east wind,
170  looking at the boys going down the long slide, and clapping his
171  worsted gloves in rapture!

172       He was an universal favourite, and his ingenuity in little things
173  was transcendent. He could cut oranges into such devices as none
174  of us had an idea of. He could make a boat out of anything, from
175  a skewer upwards. He could turn cramp-bones into chessmen; fashion
176  Roman chariots from old court cards; make spoked wheels out of
177  cotton reels, and bird-cages of old wire. But he was greatest of
178  all, perhaps, in the articles of string and straw; with which we
179  were all persuaded he could do anything that could be done by
180  hands.

181       Mr. Dick's renown was not long confined to us. After a few
182  Wednesdays, Doctor Strong himself made some inquiries of me about
183  him, and I told him all my aunt had told me; which interested the
184  Doctor so much that he requested, on the occasion of his next
185  visit, to be presented to him. This ceremony I performed; and the
186  Doctor begging Mr. Dick, whensoever he should not find me at the
187  coach office, to come on there, and rest himself until our
188  morning's work was over, it soon passed into a custom for Mr. Dick
189  to come on as a matter of course, and, if we were a little late, as
190  often happened on a Wednesday, to walk about the courtyard, waiting
191  for me. Here he made the acquaintance of the Doctor's beautiful
192  young wife (paler than formerly, all this time; more rarely seen by
193  me or anyone, I think; and not so gay, but not less beautiful), and
194  so became more and more familiar by degrees, until, at last, he
195  would come into the school and wait. He always sat in a particular
196  corner, on a particular stool, which was called 'Dick', after him;
197  here he would sit, with his grey head bent forward, attentively
198  listening to whatever might be going on, with a profound veneration
199  for the learning he had never been able to acquire.

200       This veneration Mr. Dick extended to the Doctor, whom he thought
201  the most subtle and accomplished philosopher of any age. It was
202  long before Mr. Dick ever spoke to him otherwise than bareheaded;
203  and even when he and the Doctor had struck up quite a friendship,
204  and would walk together by the hour, on that side of the courtyard
205  which was known among us as The Doctor's Walk, Mr. Dick would pull
206  off his hat at intervals to show his respect for wisdom and
207  knowledge. How it ever came about that the Doctor began to read
208  out scraps of the famous Dictionary, in these walks, I never knew;
209  perhaps he felt it all the same, at first, as reading to himself.
210  However, it passed into a custom too; and Mr. Dick, listening with
211  a face shining with pride and pleasure, in his heart of hearts
212  believed the Dictionary to be the most delightful book in the
213  world.

214       As I think of them going up and down before those schoolroom
215  windows - the Doctor reading with his complacent smile, an
216  occasional flourish of the manuscript, or grave motion of his head;
217  and Mr. Dick listening, enchained by interest, with his poor wits
218  calmly wandering God knows where, upon the wings of hard words - I
219  think of it as one of the pleasantest things, in a quiet way, that
220  I have ever seen. I feel as if they might go walking to and fro
221  for ever, and the world might somehow be the better for it - as if
222  a thousand things it makes a noise about, were not one half so good
223  for it, or me.

224       Agnes was one of Mr. Dick's friends, very soon; and in often coming
225  to the house, he made acquaintance with Uriah. The friendship
226  between himself and me increased continually, and it was maintained
227  on this odd footing: that, while Mr. Dick came professedly to look
228  after me as my guardian, he always consulted me in any little
229  matter of doubt that arose, and invariably guided himself by my
230  advice; not only having a high respect for my native sagacity, but
231  considering that I inherited a good deal from my aunt.

232       One Thursday morning, when I was about to walk with Mr. Dick from
233  the hotel to the coach office before going back to school (for we
234  had an hour's school before breakfast), I met Uriah in the street,
235  who reminded me of the promise I had made to take tea with himself
236  and his mother: adding, with a writhe, 'But I didn't expect you to
237  keep it, Master Copperfield, we're so very umble.'

238       I really had not yet been able to make up my mind whether I liked
239  Uriah or detested him; and I was very doubtful about it still, as
240  I stood looking him in the face in the street. But I felt it quite
241  an affront to be supposed proud, and said I only wanted to be
242  asked.

243       ' Oh, if that's all, Master Copperfield,' said Uriah, 'and it
244  really isn't our umbleness that prevents you, will you come this
245  evening? But if it is our umbleness, I hope you won't mind owning
246  to it, Master Copperfield; for we are well aware of our condition.'

247       I said I would mention it to Mr. Wickfield, and if he approved, as
248  I had no doubt he would, I would come with pleasure. So, at six
249  o'clock that evening, which was one of the early office evenings,
250  I announced myself as ready, to Uriah.

251       'Mother will be proud, indeed,' he said, as we walked away
252  together. 'Or she would be proud, if it wasn't sinful, Master
253  Copperfield.'

254       'Yet you didn't mind supposing I was proud this morning,' I
255  returned.

256       'Oh dear, no, Master Copperfield!' returned Uriah. 'Oh, believe
257  me, no! Such a thought never came into my head! I shouldn't have
258  deemed it at all proud if you had thought US too umble for you.
259  Because we are so very umble.'

260       'Have you been studying much law lately?' I asked, to change the
261  subject.

262       'Oh, Master Copperfield,' he said, with an air of self-denial, 'my
263  reading is hardly to be called study. I have passed an hour or two
264  in the evening, sometimes, with Mr. Tidd.'

265       'Rather hard, I suppose?' said I.
266  'He is hard to me sometimes,' returned Uriah. 'But I don't know
267  what he might be to a gifted person.'

268       After beating a little tune on his chin as he walked on, with the
269  two forefingers of his skeleton right hand, he added:

270       'There are expressions, you see, Master Copperfield - Latin words
271  and terms - in Mr. Tidd, that are trying to a reader of my umble
272  attainments.'

273       'Would you like to be taught Latin?' I said briskly. 'I will teach
274  it you with pleasure, as I learn it.'

275       'Oh, thank you, Master Copperfield,' he answered, shaking his head.
276  'I am sure it's very kind of you to make the offer, but I am much
277  too umble to accept it.'

278       'What nonsense, Uriah!'

279       'Oh, indeed you must excuse me, Master Copperfield! I am greatly
280  obliged, and I should like it of all things, I assure you; but I am
281  far too umble. There are people enough to tread upon me in my
282  lowly state, without my doing outrage to their feelings by
283  possessing learning. Learning ain't for me. A person like myself
284  had better not aspire. If he is to get on in life, he must get on
285  umbly, Master Copperfield!'

286       I never saw his mouth so wide, or the creases in his cheeks so
287  deep, as when he delivered himself of these sentiments: shaking his
288  head all the time, and writhing modestly.

289       'I think you are wrong, Uriah,' I said. 'I dare say there are
290  several things that I could teach you, if you would like to learn
291  them.'

292       'Oh, I don't doubt that, Master Copperfield,' he answered; 'not in
293  the least. But not being umble yourself, you don't judge well,
294  perhaps, for them that are. I won't provoke my betters with
295  knowledge, thank you. I'm much too umble. Here is my umble
296  dwelling, Master Copperfield!'

297       We entered a low, old-fashioned room, walked straight into from the
298  street, and found there Mrs. Heep, who was the dead image of Uriah,
299  only short. She received me with the utmost humility, and
300  apologized to me for giving her son a kiss, observing that, lowly
301  as they were, they had their natural affections, which they hoped
302  would give no offence to anyone. It was a perfectly decent room,
303  half parlour and half kitchen, but not at all a snug room. The
304  tea-things were set upon the table, and the kettle was boiling on
305  the hob. There was a chest of drawers with an escritoire top, for
306  Uriah to read or write at of an evening; there was Uriah's blue bag
307  lying down and vomiting papers; there was a company of Uriah's
308  books commanded by Mr. Tidd; there was a corner cupboard: and there
309  were the usual articles of furniture. I don't remember that any
310  individual object had a bare, pinched, spare look; but I do
311  remember that the whole place had.

312       It was perhaps a part of Mrs. Heep's humility, that she still wore
313  weeds. Notwithstanding the lapse of time that had occurred since
314  Mr. Heep's decease, she still wore weeds. I think there was some
315  compromise in the cap; but otherwise she was as weedy as in the
316  early days of her mourning.

317       'This is a day to be remembered, my Uriah, I am sure,' said Mrs.
318  Heep, making the tea, 'when Master Copperfield pays us a visit.'

319       'I said you'd think so, mother,' said Uriah.

320       'If I could have wished father to remain among us for any reason,'
321  said Mrs. Heep, 'it would have been, that he might have known his
322  company this afternoon.'

323       I felt embarrassed by these compliments; but I was sensible, too,
324  of being entertained as an honoured guest, and I thought Mrs. Heep
325  an agreeable woman.

326       'My Uriah,' said Mrs. Heep, 'has looked forward to this, sir, a
327  long while. He had his fears that our umbleness stood in the way,
328  and I joined in them myself. Umble we are, umble we have been,
329  umble we shall ever be,' said Mrs. Heep.

330       'I am sure you have no occasion to be so, ma'am,' I said, 'unless
331  you like.'

332       'Thank you, sir,' retorted Mrs. Heep. 'We know our station and are
333  thankful in it.'

334       I found that Mrs. Heep gradually got nearer to me, and that Uriah
335  gradually got opposite to me, and that they respectfully plied me
336  with the choicest of the eatables on the table. There was nothing
337  particularly choice there, to be sure; but I took the will for the
338  deed, and felt that they were very attentive. Presently they began
339  to talk about aunts, and then I told them about mine; and about
340  fathers and mothers, and then I told them about mine; and then Mrs.
341  Heep began to talk about fathers-in-law, and then I began to tell
342  her about mine - but stopped, because my aunt had advised me to
343  observe a silence on that subject. A tender young cork, however,
344  would have had no more chance against a pair of corkscrews, or a
345  tender young tooth against a pair of dentists, or a little
346  shuttlecock against two battledores, than I had against Uriah and
347  Mrs. Heep. They did just what they liked with me; and wormed
348  things out of me that I had no desire to tell, with a certainty I
349  blush to think of. the more especially, as in my juvenile
350  frankness, I took some credit to myself for being so confidential
351  and felt that I was quite the patron of my two respectful
352  entertainers.

353       They were very fond of one another: that was certain. I take it,
354  that had its effect upon me, as a touch of nature; but the skill
355  with which the one followed up whatever the other said, was a touch
356  of art which I was still less proof against. When there was
357  nothing more to be got out of me about myself (for on the Murdstone
358  and Grinby life, and on my journey, I was dumb), they began about
359  Mr. Wickfield and Agnes. Uriah threw the ball to Mrs. Heep, Mrs.
360  Heep caught it and threw it back to Uriah, Uriah kept it up a
361  little while, then sent it back to Mrs. Heep, and so they went on
362  tossing it about until I had no idea who had got it, and was quite
363  bewildered. The ball itself was always changing too. Now it was
364  Mr. Wickfield, now Agnes, now the excellence of Mr. Wickfield, now
365  my admiration of Agnes; now the extent of Mr. Wickfield's business
366  and resources, now our domestic life after dinner; now, the wine
367  that Mr. Wickfield took, the reason why he took it, and the pity
368  that it was he took so much; now one thing, now another, then
369  everything at once; and all the time, without appearing to speak
370  very often, or to do anything but sometimes encourage them a
371  little, for fear they should be overcome by their humility and the
372  honour of my company, I found myself perpetually letting out
373  something or other that I had no business to let out and seeing the
374  effect of it in the twinkling of Uriah's dinted nostrils.

375       I had begun to be a little uncomfortable, and to wish myself well
376  out of the visit, when a figure coming down the street passed the
377  door - it stood open to air the room, which was warm, the weather
378  being close for the time of year - came back again, looked in, and
379  walked in, exclaiming loudly, 'Copperfield! Is it possible?'

380       It was Mr. Micawber! It was Mr. Micawber, with his eye-glass, and
381  his walking-stick, and his shirt-collar, and his genteel air, and
382  the condescending roll in his voice, all complete!

383       'My dear Copperfield,' said Mr. Micawber, putting out his hand,
384  'this is indeed a meeting which is calculated to impress the mind
385  with a sense of the instability and uncertainty of all human - in
386  short, it is a most extraordinary meeting. Walking along the
387  street, reflecting upon the probability of something turning up (of
388  which I am at present rather sanguine), I find a young but valued
389  friend turn up, who is connected with the most eventful period of
390  my life; I may say, with the turning-point of my existence.
391  Copperfield, my dear fellow, how do you do?'

392       I cannot say - I really cannot say - that I was glad to see Mr.
393  Micawber there; but I was glad to see him too, and shook hands with
394  him, heartily, inquiring how Mrs. Micawber was.

395       'Thank you,' said Mr. Micawber, waving his hand as of old, and
396  settling his chin in his shirt-collar. 'She is tolerably
397  convalescent. The twins no longer derive their sustenance from
398  Nature's founts - in short,' said Mr. Micawber, in one of his
399  bursts of confidence, 'they are weaned - and Mrs. Micawber is, at
400  present, my travelling companion. She will be rejoiced,
401  Copperfield, to renew her acquaintance with one who has proved
402  himself in all respects a worthy minister at the sacred altar of
403  friendship.'

404       I said I should be delighted to see her.

405       'You are very good,' said Mr. Micawber.

406       Mr. Micawber then smiled, settled his chin again, and looked about
407  him.

408       'I have discovered my friend Copperfield,' said Mr. Micawber
409  genteelly, and without addressing himself particularly to anyone,
410  'not in solitude, but partaking of a social meal in company with a
411  widow lady, and one who is apparently her offspring - in short,'
412  said Mr. Micawber, in another of his bursts of confidence, 'her
413  son. I shall esteem it an honour to be presented.'

414       I could do no less, under these circumstances, than make Mr.
415  Micawber known to Uriah Heep and his mother; which I accordingly
416  did. As they abased themselves before him, Mr. Micawber took a
417  seat, and waved his hand in his most courtly manner.

418       'Any friend of my friend Copperfield's,' said Mr. Micawber, 'has a
419  personal claim upon myself.'

420       'We are too umble, sir,' said Mrs. Heep, 'my son and me, to be the
421  friends of Master Copperfield. He has been so good as take his tea
422  with us, and we are thankful to him for his company, also to you,
423  sir, for your notice.'

424       'Ma'am,' returned Mr. Micawber, with a bow, 'you are very obliging:
425  and what are you doing, Copperfield? Still in the wine trade?'

426       I was excessively anxious to get Mr. Micawber away; and replied,
427  with my hat in my hand, and a very red face, I have no doubt, that
428  I was a pupil at Doctor Strong's.

429       'A pupil?' said Mr. Micawber, raising his eyebrows. 'I am
430  extremely happy to hear it. Although a mind like my friend
431  Copperfield's' - to Uriah and Mrs. Heep - 'does not require that
432  cultivation which, without his knowledge of men and things, it
433  would require, still it is a rich soil teeming with latent
434  vegetation - in short,' said Mr. Micawber, smiling, in another
435  burst of confidence, 'it is an intellect capable of getting up the
436  classics to any extent.'

437       Uriah, with his long hands slowly twining over one another, made a
438  ghastly writhe from the waist upwards, to express his concurrence
439  in this estimation of me.

440       'Shall we go and see Mrs. Micawber, sir?' I said, to get Mr.
441  Micawber away.

442       'If you will do her that favour, Copperfield,' replied Mr.
443  Micawber, rising. 'I have no scruple in saying, in the presence of
444  our friends here, that I am a man who has, for some years,
445  contended against the pressure of pecuniary difficulties.' I knew
446  he was certain to say something of this kind; he always would be so
447  boastful about his difficulties. 'Sometimes I have risen superior
448  to my difficulties. Sometimes my difficulties have - in short,
449  have floored me. There have been times when I have administered a
450  succession of facers to them; there have been times when they have
451  been too many for me, and I have given in, and said to Mrs.
452  Micawber, in the words of Cato, "Plato, thou reasonest well. It's
453  all up now. I can show fight no more." But at no time of my life,'
454  said Mr. Micawber, 'have I enjoyed a higher degree of satisfaction
455  than in pouring my griefs (if I may describe difficulties, chiefly
456  arising out of warrants of attorney and promissory notes at two and
457  four months, by that word) into the bosom of my friend
458  Copperfield.'

459       Mr. Micawber closed this handsome tribute by saying, 'Mr. Heep!
460  Good evening. Mrs. Heep! Your servant,' and then walking out with
461  me in his most fashionable manner, making a good deal of noise on
462  the pavement with his shoes, and humming a tune as we went.

463       It was a little inn where Mr. Micawber put up, and he occupied a
464  little room in it, partitioned off from the commercial room, and
465  strongly flavoured with tobacco-smoke. I think it was over the
466  kitchen, because a warm greasy smell appeared to come up through
467  the chinks in the floor, and there was a flabby perspiration on the
468  walls. I know it was near the bar, on account of the smell of
469  spirits and jingling of glasses. Here, recumbent on a small sofa,
470  underneath a picture of a race-horse, with her head close to the
471  fire, and her feet pushing the mustard off the dumb-waiter at the
472  other end of the room, was Mrs. Micawber, to whom Mr. Micawber
473  entered first, saying, 'My dear, allow me to introduce to you a
474  pupil of Doctor Strong's.'

475       I noticed, by the by, that although Mr. Micawber was just as much
476  confused as ever about my age and standing, he always remembered,
477  as a genteel thing, that I was a pupil of Doctor Strong's.

478       Mrs. Micawber was amazed, but very glad to see me. I was very glad
479  to see her too, and, after an affectionate greeting on both sides,
480  sat down on the small sofa near her.

481       'My dear,' said Mr. Micawber, 'if you will mention to Copperfield
482  what our present position is, which I have no doubt he will like to
483  know, I will go and look at the paper the while, and see whether
484  anything turns up among the advertisements.'

485       'I thought you were at Plymouth, ma'am,' I said to Mrs. Micawber,
486  as he went out.

487       'My dear Master Copperfield,' she replied, 'we went to Plymouth.'

488       'To be on the spot,' I hinted.

489       'Just so,' said Mrs. Micawber. 'To be on the spot. But, the truth
490  is, talent is not wanted in the Custom House. The local influence
491  of my family was quite unavailing to obtain any employment in that
492  department, for a man of Mr. Micawber's abilities. They would
493  rather NOT have a man of Mr. Micawber's abilities. He would only
494  show the deficiency of the others. Apart from which,' said Mrs.
495  Micawber, 'I will not disguise from you, my dear Master
496  Copperfield, that when that branch of my family which is settled in
497  Plymouth, became aware that Mr. Micawber was accompanied by myself,
498  and by little Wilkins and his sister, and by the twins, they did
499  not receive him with that ardour which he might have expected,
500  being so newly released from captivity. In fact,' said Mrs.
501  Micawber, lowering her voice, - 'this is between ourselves - our
502  reception was cool.'

503       'Dear me!' I said.

504       'Yes,' said Mrs. Micawber. 'It is truly painful to contemplate
505  mankind in such an aspect, Master Copperfield, but our reception
506  was, decidedly, cool. There is no doubt about it. In fact, that
507  branch of my family which is settled in Plymouth became quite
508  personal to Mr. Micawber, before we had been there a week.'

509       I said, and thought, that they ought to be ashamed of themselves.

510       'Still, so it was,' continued Mrs. Micawber. 'Under such
511  circumstances, what could a man of Mr. Micawber's spirit do? But
512  one obvious course was left. To borrow, of that branch of my
513  family, the money to return to London, and to return at any
514  sacrifice.'

515       'Then you all came back again, ma'am?' I said.

516       'We all came back again,' replied Mrs. Micawber. 'Since then, I
517  have consulted other branches of my family on the course which it
518  is most expedient for Mr. Micawber to take - for I maintain that he
519  must take some course, Master Copperfield,' said Mrs. Micawber,
520  argumentatively. 'It is clear that a family of six, not including
521  a domestic, cannot live upon air.'

522       'Certainly, ma'am,' said I.

523       'The opinion of those other branches of my family,' pursued Mrs.
524  Micawber, 'is, that Mr. Micawber should immediately turn his
525  attention to coals.'

526       'To what, ma'am?'

527       'To coals,' said Mrs. Micawber. 'To the coal trade. Mr. Micawber
528  was induced to think, on inquiry, that there might be an opening
529  for a man of his talent in the Medway Coal Trade. Then, as Mr.
530  Micawber very properly said, the first step to be taken clearly
531  was, to come and see the Medway. Which we came and saw. I say
532  "we", Master Copperfield; for I never will,' said Mrs. Micawber
533  with emotion, 'I never will desert Mr. Micawber.'

534       I murmured my admiration and approbation.

535       'We came,' repeated Mrs. Micawber, 'and saw the Medway. My opinion
536  of the coal trade on that river is, that it may require talent, but
537  that it certainly requires capital. Talent, Mr. Micawber has;
538  capital, Mr. Micawber has not. We saw, I think, the greater part
539  of the Medway; and that is my individual conclusion. Being so near
540  here, Mr. Micawber was of opinion that it would be rash not to come
541  on, and see the Cathedral. Firstly, on account of its being so
542  well worth seeing, and our never having seen it; and secondly, on
543  account of the great probability of something turning up in a
544  cathedral town. We have been here,' said Mrs. Micawber, 'three
545  days. Nothing has, as yet, turned up; and it may not surprise you,
546  my dear Master Copperfield, so much as it would a stranger, to know
547  that we are at present waiting for a remittance from London, to
548  discharge our pecuniary obligations at this hotel. Until the
549  arrival of that remittance,' said Mrs. Micawber with much feeling,
550  'I am cut off from my home (I allude to lodgings in Pentonville),
551  from my boy and girl, and from my twins.'

552       I felt the utmost sympathy for Mr. and Mrs. Micawber in this
553  anxious extremity, and said as much to Mr. Micawber, who now
554  returned: adding that I only wished I had money enough, to lend
555  them the amount they needed. Mr. Micawber's answer expressed the
556  disturbance of his mind. He said, shaking hands with me,
557  'Copperfield, you are a true friend; but when the worst comes to
558  the worst, no man is without a friend who is possessed of shaving
559  materials.' At this dreadful hint Mrs. Micawber threw her arms
560  round Mr. Micawber's neck and entreated him to be calm. He wept;
561  but so far recovered, almost immediately, as to ring the bell for
562  the waiter, and bespeak a hot kidney pudding and a plate of shrimps
563  for breakfast in the morning.

564       When I took my leave of them, they both pressed me so much to come
565  and dine before they went away, that I could not refuse. But, as
566  I knew I could not come next day, when I should have a good deal to
567  prepare in the evening, Mr. Micawber arranged that he would call at
568  Doctor Strong's in the course of the morning (having a presentiment
569  that the remittance would arrive by that post), and propose the day
570  after, if it would suit me better. Accordingly I was called out of
571  school next forenoon, and found Mr. Micawber in the parlour; who
572  had called to say that the dinner would take place as proposed.
573  When I asked him if the remittance had come, he pressed my hand and
574  departed.

575       As I was looking out of window that same evening, it surprised me,
576  and made me rather uneasy, to see Mr. Micawber and Uriah Heep walk
577  past, arm in arm: Uriah humbly sensible of the honour that was done
578  him, and Mr. Micawber taking a bland delight in extending his
579  patronage to Uriah. But I was still more surprised, when I went to
580  the little hotel next day at the appointed dinner-hour, which was
581  four o'clock, to find, from what Mr. Micawber said, that he had
582  gone home with Uriah, and had drunk brandy-and-water at Mrs.
583  Heep's.

584       'And I'll tell you what, my dear Copperfield,' said Mr. Micawber,
585  'your friend Heep is a young fellow who might be attorney-general.
586  If I had known that young man, at the period when my difficulties
587  came to a crisis, all I can say is, that I believe my creditors
588  would have been a great deal better managed than they were.'

589       I hardly understood how this could have been, seeing that Mr.
590  Micawber had paid them nothing at all as it was; but I did not like
591  to ask. Neither did I like to say, that I hoped he had not been
592  too communicative to Uriah; or to inquire if they had talked much
593  about me. I was afraid of hurting Mr. Micawber's feelings, or, at
594  all events, Mrs. Micawber's, she being very sensitive; but I was
595  uncomfortable about it, too, and often thought about it afterwards.

596       We had a beautiful little dinner. Quite an elegant dish of fish;
597  the kidney-end of a loin of veal, roasted; fried sausage-meat; a
598  partridge, and a pudding. There was wine, and there was strong
599  ale; and after dinner Mrs. Micawber made us a bowl of hot punch
600  with her own hands.

601       Mr. Micawber was uncommonly convivial. I never saw him such good
602  company. He made his face shine with the punch, so that it looked
603  as if it had been varnished all over. He got cheerfully
604  sentimental about the town, and proposed success to it; observing
605  that Mrs. Micawber and himself had been made extremely snug and
606  comfortable there and that he never should forget the agreeable
607  hours they had passed in Canterbury. He proposed me afterwards;
608  and he, and Mrs. Micawber, and I, took a review of our past
609  acquaintance, in the course of which we sold the property all over
610  again. Then I proposed Mrs. Micawber: or, at least, said,
611  modestly, 'If you'll allow me, Mrs. Micawber, I shall now have the
612  pleasure of drinking your health, ma'am.' On which Mr. Micawber
613  delivered an eulogium on Mrs. Micawber's character, and said she
614  had ever been his guide, philosopher, and friend, and that he would
615  recommend me, when I came to a marrying time of life, to marry such
616  another woman, if such another woman could be found.

617       As the punch disappeared, Mr. Micawber became still more friendly
618  and convivial. Mrs. Micawber's spirits becoming elevated, too, we
619  sang 'Auld Lang Syne'. When we came to 'Here's a hand, my trusty
620  frere', we all joined hands round the table; and when we declared
621  we would 'take a right gude Willie Waught', and hadn't the least
622  idea what it meant, we were really affected.

623       In a word, I never saw anybody so thoroughly jovial as Mr. Micawber
624  was, down to the very last moment of the evening, when I took a
625  hearty farewell of himself and his amiable wife. Consequently, I
626  was not prepared, at seven o'clock next morning, to receive the
627  following communication, dated half past nine in the evening; a
628  quarter of an hour after I had left him: -

629       'My DEAR YOUNG FRIEND,

630       'The die is cast - all is over. Hiding the ravages of care with a
631  sickly mask of mirth, I have not informed you, this evening, that
632  there is no hope of the remittance! Under these circumstances,
633  alike humiliating to endure, humiliating to contemplate, and
634  humiliating to relate, I have discharged the pecuniary liability
635  contracted at this establishment, by giving a note of hand, made
636  payable fourteen days after date, at my residence, Pentonville,
637  London. When it becomes due, it will not be taken up. The result
638  is destruction. The bolt is impending, and the tree must fall.

639       'Let the wretched man who now addresses you, my dear Copperfield,
640  be a beacon to you through life. He writes with that intention,
641  and in that hope. If he could think himself of so much use, one
642  gleam of day might, by possibility, penetrate into the cheerless
643  dungeon of his remaining existence - though his longevity is, at
644  present (to say the least of it), extremely problematical.

645       'This is the last communication, my dear Copperfield, you will ever
646  receive

647       

'From

648       

'The

649       

'Beggared Outcast,

650       

'WILKINS MICAWBER.'

651       I was so shocked by the contents of this heart-rending letter, that
652  I ran off directly towards the little hotel with the intention of
653  taking it on my way to Doctor Strong's, and trying to soothe Mr.
654  Micawber with a word of comfort. But, half-way there, I met the
655  London coach with Mr. and Mrs. Micawber up behind; Mr. Micawber,
656  the very picture of tranquil enjoyment, smiling at Mrs. Micawber's
657  conversation, eating walnuts out of a paper bag, with a bottle
658  sticking out of his breast pocket. As they did not see me, I
659  thought it best, all things considered, not to see them. So, with
660  a great weight taken off my mind, I turned into a by-street that
661  was the nearest way to school, and felt, upon the whole, relieved
662  that they were gone; though I still liked them very much,
663  nevertheless.

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