David Copperfield
enthusiastically that the more I tired myself, the more I was doing to
deserve Dora. I had not revealed myself in my altered character to
Dora yet, because she was coming to see Miss Mills in a few days, and
I deferred all I had to tell her until then; merely informing her in
my letters (all our communications were secretly forwarded through Miss
Mills), that I had much to tell her. In the meantime, I put myself on
a short allowance of bear’s grease, wholly abandoned scented soap and
lavender water, and sold off three waistcoats at a prodigious sacrifice,
as being too luxurious for my stern career.
Not satisfied with all these proceedings, but burning with impatience
to do something more, I went to see Traddles, now lodging up behind the
parapet of a house in Castle Street, Holborn. Mr. Dick, who had been
with me to Highgate twice already, and had resumed his companionship
with the Doctor, I took with me.
I took Mr. Dick with me, because, acutely sensitive to my aunt’s
reverses, and sincerely believing that no galley-slave or convict worked
as I did, he had begun to fret and worry himself out of spirits and
appetite, as having nothing useful to do. In this condition, he felt
more incapable of finishing the Memorial than ever; and the harder he
worked at it, the oftener that unlucky head of King Charles the First
got into it. Seriously apprehending that his malady would increase,
unless we put some innocent deception upon him and caused him to believe
that he was useful, or unless we could put him in the way of being
really useful (which would be better), I made up my mind to try
if Traddles could help us. Before we went, I wrote Traddles a full
statement of all that had happened, and Traddles wrote me back a capital
answer, expressive of his sympathy and friendship.
We found him hard at work with his inkstand and papers, refreshed by the
sight of the flower-pot stand and the little round table in a corner of
the small apartment. He received us cordially, and made friends with
Mr. Dick in a moment. Mr. Dick professed an absolute certainty of having
seen him before, and we both said, ‘Very likely.’
The first subject on which I had to consult Traddles was this,--I had
heard that many men distinguished in various pursuits had begun life
by reporting the debates in Parliament. Traddles having mentioned
newspapers to me, as one of his hopes, I had put the two things
together, and told Traddles in my letter that I wished to know how I
could qualify myself for this pursuit. Traddles now informed me, as the
result of his inquiries, that the mere mechanical acquisition necessary,
except in rare cases, for thorough excellence in it, that is to say,
a perfect and entire command of the mystery of short-hand writing and
reading, was about equal in difficulty to the mastery of six languages;
and that it might perhaps be attained, by dint of perseverance, in the
course of a few years. Traddles reasonably supposed that this would
settle the business; but I, only feeling that here indeed were a few
tall trees to be hewn down, immediately resolved to work my way on to
Dora through this thicket, axe in hand.
‘I am very much obliged to you, my dear Traddles!’ said I. ‘I’ll begin
tomorrow.’
Traddles looked astonished, as he well might; but he had no notion as
yet of my rapturous condition.
‘I’ll buy a book,’ said I, ‘with a good scheme of this art in it; I’ll
work at it at the Commons, where I haven’t half enough to do; I’ll take
down the speeches in our court for practice--Traddles, my dear fellow,
I’ll master it!’
‘Dear me,’ said Traddles, opening his eyes, ‘I had no idea you were such
a determined character, Copperfield!’
I don’t know how he should have had, for it was new enough to me. I
passed that off, and brought Mr. Dick on the carpet.
‘You see,’ said Mr. Dick, wistfully, ‘if I could exert myself, Mr.
Traddles--if I could beat a drum--or blow anything!’
Poor fellow! I have little doubt he would have preferred such an
employment in his heart to all others. Traddles, who would not have
smiled for the world, replied composedly:
‘But you are a very good penman, sir. You told me so, Copperfield?’
‘Excellent!’ said I. And indeed he was. He wrote with extraordinary
neatness.
‘Don’t you think,’ said Traddles, ‘you could copy writings, sir, if I
got them for you?’
Mr. Dick looked doubtfully at me. ‘Eh, Trotwood?’
I shook my head. Mr. Dick shook his, and sighed. ‘Tell him about the
Memorial,’ said Mr. Dick.
I explained to Traddles that there was a difficulty in keeping King
Charles the First out of Mr. Dick’s manuscripts; Mr. Dick in the
meanwhile looking very deferentially and seriously at Traddles, and
sucking his thumb.
‘But these writings, you know, that I speak of, are already drawn up
and finished,’ said Traddles after a little consideration. ‘Mr. Dick has
nothing to do with them. Wouldn’t that make a difference, Copperfield?
At all events, wouldn’t it be well to try?’
This gave us new hope. Traddles and I laying our heads together apart,
while Mr. Dick anxiously watched us from his chair, we concocted a
scheme in virtue of which we got him to work next day, with triumphant
success.
On a table by the window in Buckingham Street, we set out the work
Traddles procured for him--which was to make, I forget how many copies
of a legal document about some right of way--and on another table
we spread the last unfinished original of the great Memorial. Our
instructions to Mr. Dick were that he should copy exactly what he had
before him, without the least departure from the original; and that when
he felt it necessary to make the slightest allusion to King Charles the
First, he should fly to the Memorial. We exhorted him to be resolute
in this, and left my aunt to observe him. My aunt reported to us,
afterwards, that, at first, he was like a man playing the kettle-drums,
and constantly divided his attentions between the two; but that, finding
this confuse and fatigue him, and having his copy there, plainly before
his eyes, he soon sat at it in an orderly business-like manner, and
postponed the Memorial to a more convenient time. In a word, although we
took great care that he should have no more to do than was good for him,
and although he did not begin with the beginning of a week, he earned
by the following Saturday night ten shillings and nine-pence; and never,
while I live, shall I forget his going about to all the shops in the
neighbourhood to change this treasure into sixpences, or his bringing
them to my aunt arranged in the form of a heart upon a waiter, with
tears of joy and pride in his eyes. He was like one under the propitious
influence of a charm, from the moment of his being usefully employed;
and if there were a happy man in the world, that Saturday night, it was
the grateful creature who thought my aunt the most wonderful woman in
existence, and me the most wonderful young man.
‘No starving now, Trotwood,’ said Mr. Dick, shaking hands with me in a
corner. ‘I’ll provide for her, Sir!’ and he flourished his ten fingers
in the air, as if they were ten banks.
I hardly know which was the better pleased, Traddles or I. ‘It really,’
said Traddles, suddenly, taking a letter out of his pocket, and giving
it to me, ‘put Mr. Micawber quite out of my head!’
The letter (Mr. Micawber never missed any possible opportunity of
writing a letter) was addressed to me, ‘By the kindness of T. Traddles,
Esquire, of the Inner Temple.’ It ran thus:--
‘MY DEAR COPPERFIELD,
‘You may possibly not be unprepared to receive the intimation that
something has turned up. I may have mentioned to you on a former
occasion that I was in expectation of such an event.
‘I am about to establish myself in one of the provincial towns of our
favoured island (where the society may be described as a happy admixture
of the agricultural and the clerical), in immediate connexion with
one of the learned professions. Mrs. Micawber and our offspring will
accompany me. Our ashes, at a future period, will probably be found
commingled in the cemetery attached to a venerable pile, for which the
spot to which I refer has acquired a reputation, shall I say from China
to Peru?
‘In bidding adieu to the modern Babylon, where we have undergone many
vicissitudes, I trust not ignobly, Mrs. Micawber and myself cannot
disguise from our minds that we part, it may be for years and it may be
for ever, with an individual linked by strong associations to the altar
of our domestic life. If, on the eve of such a departure, you will
accompany our mutual friend, Mr. Thomas Traddles, to our present abode,
and there reciprocate the wishes natural to the occasion, you will
confer a Boon
‘On
‘One
‘Who
‘Is
‘Ever yours,
‘WILKINS MICAWBER.’
I was glad to find that Mr. Micawber had got rid of his dust and ashes,
and that something really had turned up at last. Learning from Traddles
that the invitation referred to the evening then wearing away, I
expressed my readiness to do honour to it; and we went off together to
the lodging which Mr. Micawber occupied as Mr. Mortimer, and which was
situated near the top of the Gray’s Inn Road.
The resources of this lodging were so limited, that we found the twins,
now some eight or nine years old, reposing in a turn-up bedstead in
the family sitting-room, where Mr. Micawber had prepared, in a
wash-hand-stand jug, what he called ‘a Brew’ of the agreeable beverage
for which he was famous. I had the pleasure, on this occasion, of
renewing the acquaintance of Master Micawber, whom I found a promising
boy of about twelve or thirteen, very subject to that restlessness of
limb which is not an unfrequent phenomenon in youths of his age. I also
became once more known to his sister, Miss Micawber, in whom, as Mr.
Micawber told us, ‘her mother renewed her youth, like the Phoenix’.
‘My dear Copperfield,’ said Mr. Micawber, ‘yourself and Mr. Traddles
find us on the brink of migration, and will excuse any little
discomforts incidental to that position.’
Glancing round as I made a suitable reply, I observed that the family
effects were already packed, and that the amount of luggage was by no
means overwhelming. I congratulated Mrs. Micawber on the approaching
change.
‘My dear Mr. Copperfield,’ said Mrs. Micawber, ‘of your friendly
interest in all our affairs, I am well assured. My family may consider
it banishment, if they please; but I am a wife and mother, and I never
will desert Mr. Micawber.’
Traddles, appealed to by Mrs. Micawber’s eye, feelingly acquiesced.
‘That,’ said Mrs. Micawber, ‘that, at least, is my view, my dear Mr.
Copperfield and Mr. Traddles, of the obligation which I took upon myself
when I repeated the irrevocable words, “I, Emma, take thee, Wilkins.” I
read the service over with a flat-candle on the previous night, and
the conclusion I derived from it was, that I never could desert Mr.
Micawber. And,’ said Mrs. Micawber, ‘though it is possible I may be
mistaken in my view of the ceremony, I never will!’
‘My dear,’ said Mr. Micawber, a little impatiently, ‘I am not conscious
that you are expected to do anything of the sort.’
‘I am aware, my dear Mr. Copperfield,’ pursued Mrs. Micawber, ‘that I am
now about to cast my lot among strangers; and I am also aware that the
various members of my family, to whom Mr. Micawber has written in the
most gentlemanly terms, announcing that fact, have not taken the least
notice of Mr. Micawber’s communication. Indeed I may be superstitious,’
said Mrs. Micawber, ‘but it appears to me that Mr. Micawber is destined