david copperfield(大卫.科波维尔)-第39部分
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was; that very same night; over a veal cutlet before the kitchen
fire; telling me stories about her papa and mama; and the
company they used to keep。
In this house; and with this family; I passed my leisure time。 My
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David Copperfield
own exclusive breakfast of a penny loaf and a pennyworth of milk;
I provided myself。 I kept another small loaf; and a modicum of
cheese; on a particular shelf of a particular cupboard; to make my
supper on when I came back at night。 This made a hole in the six
or seven shillings; I know well; and I was out at the warehouse all
day; and had to support myself on that money all the week。 From
Monday morning until Saturday night; I had no advice; no
counsel; no encouragement; no consolation; no assistance; no
support; of any kind; from anyone; that I can call to mind; as I
hope to go to heaven!
I was so young and childish; and so little qualified—how could I
be otherwise?—to undertake the whole charge of my own
existence; that often; in going to Murdstone and Grinby’s; of a
morning; I could not resist the stale pastry put out for sale at half…
price at the pastrycooks’ doors; and spent in that the money I
should have kept for my dinner。 Then; I went without my dinner;
or bought a roll or a slice of pudding。 I remember two pudding
shops; between which I was divided; according to my finances。
One was in a court close to St。 Martin’s Church—at the back of the
church;—which is now removed altogether。 The pudding at that
shop was made of currants; and was rather a special pudding; but
was dear; twopennyworth not being larger than a pennyworth of
more ordinary pudding。 A good shop for the latter was in the
Strand—somewhere in that part which has been rebuilt since。 It
was a stout pale pudding; heavy and flabby; and with great flat
raisins in it; stuck in whole at wide distances apart。 It came up hot
at about my time every day; and many a day did I dine off it。 When
I dined regularly and handsomely; I had a saveloy and a penny
loaf; or a fourpenny plate of red beef from a cook’s shop; or a plate
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
of bread and cheese and a glass of beer; from a miserable old
public…house opposite our place of business; called the Lion; or the
Lion and something else that I have forgotten。 Once; I remember
carrying my own bread (which I had brought from home in the
morning) under my arm; wrapped in a piece of paper; like a book;
and going to a famous alamode beef…house near Drury Lane; and
ordering a ‘small plate’ of that delicacy to eat with it。 What the
waiter thought of such a strange little apparition coming in all
alone; I don’t know; but I can see him now; staring at me as I ate
my dinner; and bringing up the other waiter to look。 I gave him a
halfpenny for himself; and I wish he hadn’t taken it。
We had half…an…hour; I think; for tea。 When I had money
enough; I used to get half…a…pint of ready…made coffee and a slice
of bread and butter。 When I had none; I used to look at a venison
shop in Fleet Street; or I have strolled; at such a time; as far as
Covent Garden Market; and stared at the pineapples。 I was fond of
wandering about the Adelphi; because it was a mysterious place;
with those dark arches。 I see myself emerging one evening from
some of these arches; on a little public…house close to the river;
with an open space before it; where some coal…heavers were
dancing; to look at whom I sat down upon a bench。 I wonder what
they thought of me!
I was such a child; and so little; that frequently when I went into
the bar of a strange public…house for a glass of ale or porter; to
moisten what I had had for dinner; they were afraid to give it me。 I
remember one hot evening I went into the bar of a public…house;
and said to the landlord:
‘What is your best—your very best—ale a glass?’ For it was a
special occasion。 I don’t know what。 It may have been my
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David Copperfield
birthday。
‘Twopence…halfpenny;’ says the landlord; ‘is the price of the
Genuine Stunning ale。’
‘Then;’ says I; producing the money; ‘just draw me a glass of the
Genuine Stunning; if you please; with a good head to it。’
The landlord looked at me in return over the bar; from head to
foot; with a strange smile on his face; and instead of drawing the
beer; looked round the screen and said something to his wife。 She
came out from behind it; with her work in her hand; and joined
him in surveying me。 Here we stand; all three; before me now。 The
landlord in his shirt…sleeves; leaning against the bar window…
frame; his wife looking over the little half…door; and I; in some
confusion; looking up at them from outside the partition。 They
asked me a good many questions; as; what my name was; how old
I was; where I lived; how I was employed; and how I came there。
To all of which; that I might commit nobody; I invented; I am
afraid; appropriate answers。 They served me with the ale; though I
suspect it was not the Genuine Stunning; and the landlord’s wife;
opening the little half…door of the bar; and bending down; gave me
my money back; and gave me a kiss that was half admiring and
half compassionate; but all womanly and good; I am sure。
I know I do not exaggerate; unconsciously and unintentionally;
the scantiness of my resources or the difficulties of my life。 I know
that if a shilling were given me by Mr。 Quinion at any time; I spent
it in a dinner or a tea。 I know that I worked; from morning until
night; with common men and boys; a shabby child。 I know that I
lounged about the streets; insufficiently and unsatisfactorily fed。 I
know that; but for the mercy of God; I might easily have been; for
any care that was taken of me; a little robber or a little vagabond。
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
Yet I held some station at Murdstone and Grinby’s too。 Besides
that Mr。 Quinion did what a careless man so occupied; and dealing
with a thing so anomalous; could; to treat me as one upon a
different footing from the rest; I never said; to man or boy; how it
was that I came to be there; or gave the least indication of being
sorry that I was there。 That I suffered in secret; and that I suffered
exquisitely; no one ever knew but I。 How much I suffered; it is; as I
have said already; utterly beyond my power to tell。 But I kept my
own counsel; and I did my work。 I knew from the first; that; if I
could not do my work as well as any of the rest; I could not hold
myself above slight and contempt。 I soon became at least as
expeditious and as skilful as either of the other boys。 Though
perfectly familiar with them; my conduct and manner were
different enough from theirs to place a space between us。 They
and the men generally spoke of me as ‘the little gent’; or ‘the
young Suffolker。’ A certain man named Gregory; who was
foreman of the packers; and another named Tipp; who was the
carman; and wore a red jacket; used to address me sometimes as
‘David’: but I think it was mostly when we were very confidential;
and when I had made some efforts to entertain them; over our
work; with some results of the old readings; which were fast
perishing out of my remembrance。 Mealy Potatoes uprose once;
and rebelled against my being so distinguished; but Mick Walker
settled him in no time。
My rescue from this kind of existence I considered quite
hopeless; and abandoned; as such; altogether。 I am solemnly
convinced that I never for one hour was reconciled to it; or was
otherwise than miserably unhappy; but I bore it; and even to
Peggotty; partly for the love of her and partly for shame; never in
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David Copperfield
any letter (though many passed between us) revealed the truth。
Mr。 Micawber’s difficulties were an addition to the distressed
state of my mind。 In my forlorn state I became quite attached to
the family; and used to walk about; busy with Mrs。 Micawber’s
calculations of ways and means; and heavy with the weight of Mr。
Micawber’s debts。 On a Saturday night; which was my grand
treat;—partly because it was a great thing to walk home with six or
seven shillings in my pocket; looking into the shops and thinking
what such a sum would buy; and partly because I went home
early;—Mrs。 Micawber would make the most heart…rending
confidences to me; also on a Sunday morning; when I mixed the
portion of tea or coffee I had bought over…night; in a little shaving…
pot; and sat late at my breakfast。 It was nothing at all unusual for
Mr。 Micawber to sob violently at the beginning of one of these
Saturday night conversations; and sing about jack’s delight being
his lovely Nan; towards the end of it。 I have known him come
home to supper with a flood of tears; and a declaration that
nothing was now left but a jail; and go to bed making a calculation
of the expense of putting bow…windows to the house; ‘in case
anything turned up’; which was his favourite expression。 And Mrs。
Micawber was just the same。
A curious equality of friendship; originating; I suppose; in our
respective circumstances; sprung up between me and these
people; notwithstanding the ludicrous disparity in our years。 But I
never allowed myself to be prevailed upon to accept any invitation
to eat and drink with them out of their stock (knowing that they
got on badly with the butcher and baker; and had often not too
much for themselves); until Mrs。 Micawber took me into her entire
confidence。 This she did one evening as follows:
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David Copperfield
‘Master Copperfield;’ said Mrs。 Micawber; ‘I make no stranger
of you; and therefore do not hesitate to say that Mr。 Micawber’s
difficulties are coming to a crisis。’
It made me very miserable to hear it; and I looked at Mrs。
Micawber’s red eyes with the utmost sympathy。
‘With the exception of the heel of a Dutch cheese—which is not
adapted to the wants of a young family’—said Mrs。