david copperfield(大卫.科波维尔)-第26部分

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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　

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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；　

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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！’　

Ham　echoed　this　sentiment；　and　we　parted　with　them　in　the　
heartiest　manner。　I　was　almost　tempted　that　evening　to　tell　
Steerforth　about　pretty　little　Em’ly；　but　I　was　too　timid　of　
mentioning　her　name；　and　too　much　afraid　of　his　laughing　at　me。　I　
remember　that　I　thought　a　good　deal；　and　in　an　uneasy　sort　of　
way；　about　Mr。　Peggotty　having　said　that　she　was　getting　on　to　be　
a　woman；　but　I　decided　that　was　nonsense。　

We　transported　the　shellfish；　or　the　‘relish’　as　Mr。　Peggotty　had　
modestly　called　it；　up　into　our　room　unobserved；　and　made　a　great　
supper　that　evening。　But　Traddles　couldn’t　get　happily　out　of　it。　
He　was　too　unfortunate　even　to　come　through　a　supper　like　
anybody　else。　He　was　taken　ill　in　the　night—quite　prostrate　he　
was—in　consequence　of　Crab；　and　after　being　drugged　with　black　
draughts　and　blue　pills；　to　an　extent　which　Demple　（whose　father　
was　a　doctor）　said　was　enough　to　undermine　a　horse’s　
constitution；　received　a　caning　and　six　chapters　of　Greek　
Testament　for　refusing　to　confess。　

The　rest　of　the　half…year　is　a　jumble　in　my　recollection　of　the　
daily　strife　and　struggle　of　our　lives；　of　the　waning　summer　and　

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the　changing　season；　of　the　frosty　mornings　when　we　were　rung　
out　of　bed；　and　the　cold；　cold　smell　of　the　dark　nights　when　we　
were　rung　into　bed　again；　of　the　evening　schoolroom　dimly　lighted　
and　indifferently　warmed；　and　the　morning　schoolroom　which　was　
nothing　but　a　great　shivering…machine；　of　the　alternation　of　boiled　
beef　with　roast　beef；　and　boiled　mutton　with　roast　mutton；　of　clods　
of　bread…and…butter；　dog’s…eared　lesson…books；　cracked　slates；　
tear…blotted　copy…books；　canings；　rulerings；　hair…cuttings；　rainy　
Sundays；　suet…puddings；　and　a　dirty　atmosphere　of　ink；　
surrounding　all。　

I　well　remember　though；　how　the　distant　idea　of　the　holidays；　
after　seeming　for　an　immense　time　to　be　a　stationary　speck；　began　
to　come　towards　us；　and　to　grow　and　grow。　How　from　counting　
months；　we　came　to　weeks；　and　then　to　days；　and　how　I　then　
began　to　be　afraid　that　I　should　not　be　sent　for　and　when　I　learnt　
from　Steerforth　that　I　had　been　sent　for；　and　was　certainly　to　go　
home；　had　dim　forebodings　that　I　might　break　my　leg　first。　How　
the　breaking…up　day　changed　its　place　fast；　at　last；　from　the　week　
after　next　to　next　week；　this　week；　the　day　after　tomorrow；　
tomorrow；　today；　tonight—when　I　was　inside　the　Yarmouth　mail；　
and　going　home。　

I　had　many　a　broken　sleep　inside　the　Yarmouth　mail；　and　many　
an　incoherent　dream　of　all　these　things。　But　when　I　awoke　at　
intervals；　the　ground　outside　the　window　was　not　the　playground　
of　Salem　House；　and　the　sound　in　my　ears　was　not　the　sound　of　
Mr。　Creakle　giving　it　to　Traddles；　but　the　sound　of　the　coachman　
touching　up　the　horses。　

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Chapter　8　

MY　HOLIDAYS。　ESPECIALLY　ONE　HAPPY
AFTERNOON


When　we　arrived　before　day　at　the　inn　where　the　mail　
stopped；　which　was　not　the　inn　where　my　friend　the　
waiter　lived；　I　was　shown　up　to　a　nice　little　bedroom；　
with　DOLPHIN　painted　on　the　door。　Very　cold　I　was；　I　know；　
notwithstanding　the　hot　tea　they　had　given　me　before　a　large　fire　
downstairs；　and　very　glad　I　was　to　turn　into　the　Dolphin’s　bed；　pull　
the　Dolphin’s　blankets　round　my　head；　and　go　to　sleep。　

Mr。　Barkis　the　carrier　was　to　call　for　me　in　the　morning　at　nine　
o’clock。　I　got　up　at　eight；　a　little　giddy　from　the　shortness　of　my　
night’s　rest；　and　was　ready　for　him　before　the　appointed　time。　He　
received　me　exactly　as　if　not　five　minutes　had　elapsed　since　we　
were　last　together；　and　I　had　only　been　into　the　hotel　to　get　change　
for　sixpence；　or　something　of　that　sort。　

As　soon　as　I　and　my　box　were　in　the　cart；　and　the　carrier　
seated；　the　lazy　horse　walked　away　with　us　all　at　his　accustomed　
pace。　

‘You　look　very　well；　Mr。　Barkis；’　I　said；　thinking　he　would　like　
to　know　it。　

Mr。　Barkis　rubbed　his　cheek　with　his　cuff；　and　then　looked　at　
his　cuff　as　if　he　expected　to　find　some　of　the　bloom　upon　it；　but　
made　no　other　acknowledgement　of　the　compliment。　

‘I　gave　your　message；　Mr。　Barkis；’　I　said：　‘I　wrote　to　Peggotty。’　

‘Ah！’　said　Mr。　Barkis。　

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Mr。　Barkis　seemed　gruff；　and　answered　drily。　

‘Wasn’t　it　right；　Mr。　Barkis？’　I　asked；　after　a　little　hesitation。　

‘Why；　no；’　said　Mr。　Barkis。　

‘Not　the　message？’　

‘The　message　was　right　enough；　perhaps；’　said　Mr。　Barkis；　‘but　
it　come　to　an　end　there。’　

Not　understanding　what　he　meant；　I　repeated　inquisitively：　
‘Came　to　an　end；　Mr。　Barkis？’　

‘Nothing　come　of　it；’　he　explained；　looking　at　me　sideways。　‘No　
answer。’　

‘There　was　an　answer　expected；　was　there；　Mr。　Barkis？’　said　I；　
opening　my　eyes。　For　this　was　a　new　light　to　me。　

‘When　a　man　says　he’s　willin’；’　said　Mr。　Barkis；　turning　his　
glance　slowly　on　me　again；　‘it’s　as　much　as　to　say；　that　man’s　awaitin’　for　a　answer。’　

‘Well；　Mr。　Barkis？’　

‘Well；’　said　Mr。　Barkis；　carrying　his　eyes　back　to　his　horse’s　
ears；　‘that　man’s　been　a…waitin’　for　a　answer　ever　since。’　

‘Have　you　told　her　so；　Mr。　Barkis？’　

‘No—no；’　growled　Mr。　Barkis；　reflecting　about　it。　‘I　ain’t　got　no　
call　to　go　and　tell　her　so。　I　never　said　six　words　to　her　myself；　I　
ain’t　a…goin’　to　tell　her　so。’　

‘Would　you　like　me　to　do　it；　Mr。　Barkis？’　said　I；　doubtfully。　‘You　
might　tell　her；　if　you　would；’　said　Mr。　Barkis；　with　another　slow　
look　at　me；　‘that　Barkis　was　a…waitin’　for　a　answer。　Says　you—　
what　name　is　it？’　

‘Her　name？’　

‘Ah！’　said　Mr。　Barkis；　with　a　nod　of　his　head。　

‘Peggotty。’　

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‘Chrisen　name？　Or　nat’ral　name？’　said　Mr。　Barkis。　

‘Oh；　it’s　not　her　Christian　name。　Her　Christian　name　is　Clara。’　

‘Is　it　though？’　said　Mr。　Barkis。　

He　seemed　to　find　an　immense　fund　of　reflection　in　this　
circumstance；　and　sat　pondering　and　inwardly　whistling　for　some　
time。　

‘Well！’　he　resumed　at　length。　‘Says　you；　“Peggotty！　Barkis　is　
waitin’　for　a　answer。”　Says　she；　perhaps；　“Answer　to　what？”　Says　
you；　“To　what　I　told　you。”　“What　is　that？”　says　she。　“Barkis　is　
willin’；”　says　you。’　

This　extremely　artful　suggestion　Mr。　Barkis　accompanied　with　
a　nudge　of　his　elbow　that　gave　me　quite　a　stitch　in　my　side。　After　
that；　he　slouched　over　his　horse　in　his　usual　manner；　and　made　no　
other　reference　to　the　subject　except；　half　an　hour　afterwards；　
taking　a　piece