David Copperfield
Once more he laid his hand upon my shoulder; and then taking his
flute and a few books from his desk, and leaving the key in it for his
successor, he went out of the school, with his property under his arm.
Mr. Creakle then made a speech, through Tungay, in which he thanked
Steerforth for asserting (though perhaps too warmly) the independence
and respectability of Salem House; and which he wound up by shaking
hands with Steerforth, while we gave three cheers--I did not quite know
what for, but I supposed for Steerforth, and so joined in them ardently,
though I felt miserable. Mr. Creakle then caned Tommy Traddles for
being discovered in tears, instead of cheers, on account of Mr. Mell’s
departure; and went back to his sofa, or his bed, or wherever he had
come from.
We were left to ourselves now, and looked very blank, I recollect, on
one another. For myself, I felt so much self-reproach and contrition for
my part in what had happened, that nothing would have enabled me to keep
back my tears but the fear that Steerforth, who often looked at me, I
saw, might think it unfriendly--or, I should rather say, considering our
relative ages, and the feeling with which I regarded him, undutiful--if
I showed the emotion which distressed me. He was very angry with
Traddles, and said he was glad he had caught it.
Poor Traddles, who had passed the stage of lying with his head upon the
desk, and was relieving himself as usual with a burst of skeletons, said
he didn’t care. Mr. Mell was ill-used.
‘Who has ill-used him, you girl?’ said Steerforth.
‘Why, you have,’ returned Traddles.
‘What have I done?’ said Steerforth.
‘What have you done?’ retorted Traddles. ‘Hurt his feelings, and lost
him his situation.’
‘His feelings?’ repeated Steerforth disdainfully. ‘His feelings will
soon get the better of it, I’ll be bound. His feelings are not like
yours, Miss Traddles. As to his situation--which was a precious one,
wasn’t it?--do you suppose I am not going to write home, and take care
that he gets some money? Polly?’
We thought this intention very noble in Steerforth, whose mother was
a widow, and rich, and would do almost anything, it was said, that he
asked her. We were all extremely glad to see Traddles so put down,
and exalted Steerforth to the skies: especially when he told us, as he
condescended to do, that what he had done had been done expressly for
us, and for our cause; and that he had conferred a great boon upon us
by unselfishly doing it. But I must say that when I was going on with a
story in the dark that night, Mr. Mell’s old flute seemed more than once
to sound mournfully in my ears; and that when at last Steerforth was
tired, and I lay down in my bed, I fancied it playing so sorrowfully
somewhere, that I was quite wretched.
I soon forgot him in the contemplation of Steerforth, who, in an easy
amateur way, and without any book (he seemed to me to know everything by
heart), took some of his classes until a new master was found. The new
master came from a grammar school; and before he entered on his duties,
dined in the parlour one day, to be introduced to Steerforth. Steerforth
approved of him highly, and told us he was a Brick. Without exactly
understanding what learned distinction was meant by this, I respected
him greatly for it, and had no doubt whatever of his superior knowledge:
though he never took the pains with me--not that I was anybody--that Mr.
Mell had taken.
There was only one other event in this half-year, out of the daily
school-life, that made an impression upon me which still survives. It
survives for many reasons.
One afternoon, when we were all harassed into a state of dire confusion,
and Mr. Creakle was laying about him dreadfully, Tungay came in, and
called out in his usual strong way: ‘Visitors for Copperfield!’
A few words were interchanged between him and Mr. Creakle, as, who the
visitors were, and what room they were to be shown into; and then I, who
had, according to custom, stood up on the announcement being made, and
felt quite faint with astonishment, was told to go by the back stairs
and get a clean frill on, before I repaired to the dining-room. These
orders I obeyed, in such a flutter and hurry of my young spirits as
I had never known before; and when I got to the parlour door, and the
thought came into my head that it might be my mother--I had only thought
of Mr. or Miss Murdstone until then--I drew back my hand from the lock,
and stopped to have a sob before I went in.
At first I saw nobody; but feeling a pressure against the door, I looked
round it, and there, to my amazement, were Mr. Peggotty and Ham, ducking
at me with their hats, and squeezing one another against the wall. I
could not help laughing; but it was much more in the pleasure of seeing
them, than at the appearance they made. We shook hands in a very
cordial way; and I laughed and laughed, until I pulled out my
pocket-handkerchief and wiped my eyes.
Mr. Peggotty (who never shut his mouth once, I remember, during the
visit) showed great concern when he saw me do this, and nudged Ham to
say something.
‘Cheer up, Mas’r Davy bor’!’ said Ham, in his simpering way. ‘Why, how
you have growed!’
‘Am I grown?’ I said, drying my eyes. I was not crying at anything
in particular that I know of; but somehow it made me cry, to see old
friends.
‘Growed, Mas’r Davy bor’? Ain’t he growed!’ said Ham.
‘Ain’t he growed!’ said Mr. Peggotty.
They made me laugh again by laughing at each other, and then we all
three laughed 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?’
‘Oncommon,’ said Mr. Peggotty.
‘And little Em’ly, and Mrs. Gummidge?’
‘On--common,’ said Mr. Peggotty.
There was a silence. Mr. Peggotty, to relieve it, took two prodigious
lobsters, and an enormous crab, and a large canvas bag of shrimps, out
of his pockets, and piled them up in Ham’s arms.
‘You see,’ said Mr. Peggotty, ‘knowing as you was partial to a little
relish with your wittles when you was along with us, we took the
liberty. The old Mawther biled ‘em, she did. Mrs. Gummidge biled ‘em.
Yes,’ said Mr. Peggotty, slowly, who I thought appeared to stick to the
subject on account of having no other subject ready, ‘Mrs. Gummidge, I
do assure you, she biled ‘em.’
I expressed my thanks; and Mr. Peggotty, after looking at Ham, who stood
smiling sheepishly over the shellfish, without making any attempt to
help him, said:
‘We come, you see, the wind and tide making in our favour, in one of our
Yarmouth lugs to Gravesen’. My sister she wrote to me the name of this
here place, and wrote to me as if ever I chanced to come to Gravesen’,
I was to come over and inquire for Mas’r Davy and give her dooty,
humbly wishing him well and reporting of the fam’ly as they was oncommon
toe-be-sure. Little Em’ly, you see, she’ll write to my sister when I go
back, as I see you and as you was similarly oncommon, and so we make it
quite a merry-go-rounder.’
I was obliged to consider a little before I understood what Mr. Peggotty
meant by this figure, expressive of a complete circle of intelligence. I
then thanked him heartily; and said, with a consciousness of reddening,
that I supposed little Em’ly was altered too, since we used to pick up
shells and pebbles on the beach?
‘She’s getting to be a woman, that’s wot she’s getting to be,’ said Mr.
Peggotty. ‘Ask HIM.’ He meant Ham, who beamed with delight and assent
over the bag of shrimps.
‘Her pretty face!’ said Mr. Peggotty, with his own shining like a light.
‘Her learning!’ said Ham.
‘Her writing!’ said Mr. Peggotty. ‘Why it’s as black as jet! And so
large it is, you might see it anywheres.’
It was perfectly delightful to behold with what enthusiasm Mr. Peggotty
became inspired when he thought of his little favourite. He stands
before me again, his bluff hairy face irradiating with a joyful love and
pride, for which I can find no description. His honest eyes fire up, and
sparkle, as if their depths were stirred by something bright. His broad
chest heaves with pleasure. His strong loose hands clench themselves,
in his earnestness; and he emphasizes what he says with a right arm that
shows, in my pigmy view, like a sledge-hammer.
Ham was quite as earnest as he. I dare say they would have said much
more about her, if they had not been abashed by the unexpected coming in
of Steerforth, who, seeing me in a corner speaking with two strangers,
stopped in a song he was singing, and said: ‘I didn’t know you were
here, young Copperfield!’ (for it was not the usual visiting room) and
crossed by us on his way out.
I am not sure whether it was in the pride of having such a friend as
Steerforth, or in the desire to explain to him how I came to have such a
friend as Mr. Peggotty, that I called to him as he was going away. But I
said, modestly--Good Heaven, how it all comes back to me this long time
afterwards--!
‘Don’t go, Steerforth, if you please. These are two Yarmouth
boatmen--very kind, good people--who are relations of my nurse, and have
come from Gravesend to see me.’
‘Aye, aye?’ said Steerforth, returning. ‘I am glad to see them. How are
you both?’
There was an ease in his manner--a gay and light manner it was, but not
swaggering--which I still believe to have borne a kind of enchantment
with it. I still believe him, in virtue of this carriage, his animal
spirits, his delightful voice, his handsome face and figure, and, for
aught I know, of some inborn power of attraction besides (which I think
a few people possess), to have carried a spell with him to which it was
a natural weakness to yield, and which not many persons could withstand.
I could not but see how pleased they were with him, and how they seemed
to open their hearts to him in a moment.
‘You must let them know at home, if you please, Mr. Peggotty,’ I said,
‘when that letter is sent, that Mr. Steerforth is very kind to me, and
that I don’t know what I should ever do here without him.’
‘Nonsense!’ said Steerforth, laughing. ‘You mustn’t tell them anything
of the sort.’
‘And if Mr. Steerforth ever comes into Norfolk or Suffolk, Mr.
Peggotty,’ I said, ‘while I am there, you may depend upon it I shall
bring him to Yarmouth, if he will let me, to see your house. You never
saw such 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 such a thorough-built boatman.’
‘So ‘tis, sir, so ‘tis, sir,’ said Ham, grinning. ‘You’re right, young
gen’l’m’n! Mas’r Davy bor’, gen’l’m’n’s right. A thorough-built boatman!
Hor, hor! That’s what he is, too!’
Mr. Peggotty was no less pleased than his nephew, though his modesty
forbade him to claim a personal compliment so vociferously.
‘Well, sir,’ he said, bowing and chuckling, and tucking in the ends
of his neckerchief at his breast: ‘I thankee, sir, I thankee! I do my
endeavours in my line of life, sir.’
‘The best of men can do no more, Mr. Peggotty,’ said Steerforth. He had
got his name already.
‘I’ll pound it, it’s wot you do yourself, sir,’ said Mr. Peggotty,
shaking his head, ‘and wot you do well--right well! I thankee, sir. I’m
obleeged to you, sir, for your welcoming manner of me. I’m rough, sir,
but I’m ready--least ways, I hope I’m ready, you unnerstand. My house
ain’t much for to see, sir, but it’s hearty at your service if ever you
should come along 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
allusion to his being slow to go, for he had attempted to go after every
sentence, and had somehow or other come back again; ‘but I wish you both
well, and I wish you happy!’