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put a brass collar round my neck； and tie me up in the stable。
A ladder was brought； and I got down after the lady； who was
like a haystack： not daring to stir； until her basket was removed。
The coach was clear of passengers by that time； the luggage was
very soon cleared out； the horses had been taken out before the
luggage； and now the coach itself was wheeled and backed off by
some hostlers； out of the way。 Still； nobody appeared； to claim the
dusty youngster from Blunderstone； Suffolk。
More solitary than Robinson Crusoe； who had nobody to look at
him and see that he was solitary； I went into the booking…office；
and； by invitation of the clerk on duty； passed behind the counter；
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
and sat down on the scale at which they weighed the luggage。
Here； as I sat looking at the parcels； packages； and books； and
inhaling the smell of stables （ever since associated with that
morning）； a procession of most tremendous considerations began
to march through my mind。 Supposing nobody should ever fetch
me； how long would they consent to keep me there？ Would they
keep me long enough to spend seven shillings？ Should I sleep at
night in one of those wooden bins； with the other luggage； and
wash myself at the pump in the yard in the morning； or should I
be turned out every night； and expected to come again to be left
till called for； when the office opened next day？ Supposing there
was no mistake in the case； and Mr。 Murdstone had devised this
plan to get rid of me； what should I do？ If they allowed me to
remain there until my seven shillings were spent； I couldn’t hope
to remain there when I began to starve。 That would obviously be
inconvenient and unpleasant to the customers； besides entailing
on the Blue Whatever…it…was； the risk of funeral expenses。 If I
started off at once； and tried to walk back home； how could I ever
find my way； how could I ever hope to walk so far； how could I
make sure of anyone but Peggotty； even if I got back？ If I found
out the nearest proper authorities； and offered myself to go for a
soldier； or a sailor； I was such a little fellow that it was most likely
they wouldn’t take me in。 These thoughts； and a hundred other
such thoughts； turned me burning hot； and made me giddy with
apprehension and dismay。 I was in the height of my fever when a
man entered and whispered to the clerk； who presently slanted me
off the scale； and pushed me over to him； as if I were weighed；
bought； delivered； and paid for。
As I went out of the office； hand in hand with this new
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
acquaintance； I stole a look at him。 He was a gaunt； sallow young
man； with hollow cheeks； and a chin almost as black as Mr。
Murdstone’s； but there the likeness ended； for his whiskers were
shaved off； and his hair； instead of being glossy； was rusty and dry。
He was dressed in a suit of black clothes which were rather rusty
and dry too； and rather short in the sleeves and legs； and he had a
white neck…kerchief on； that was not over…clean。 I did not； and do
not； suppose that this neck…kerchief was all the linen he wore； but
it was all he showed or gave any hint of。
‘You’re the new boy？’ he said。 ‘Yes； sir；’ I said。
I supposed I was。 I didn’t know。
‘I’m one of the masters at Salem House；’ he said。
I made him a bow and felt very much overawed。 I was so
ashamed to allude to a commonplace thing like my box； to a
scholar and a master at Salem House； that we had gone some little
distance from the yard before I had the hardihood to mention it。
We turned back； on my humbly insinuating that it might be useful
to me hereafter； and he told the clerk that the carrier had
instructions to call for it at noon。
‘If you please； sir；’ I said； when we had accomplished about the
same distance as before； ‘is it far？’
‘It’s down by Blackheath；’ he said。
‘Is that far； sir？’ I diffidently asked。
‘It’s a good step；’ he said。 ‘We shall go by the stage…coach。 It’s
about six miles。’
I was so faint and tired； that the idea of holding out for six miles
more； was too much for me。 I took heart to tell him that I had had
nothing all night； and that if he would allow me to buy something
to eat； I should be very much obliged to him。 He appeared
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
surprised at this—I see him stop and look at me now—and after
considering for a few moments； said he wanted to call on an old
person who lived not far off； and that the best way would be for me
to buy some bread； or whatever I liked best that was wholesome；
and make my breakfast at her house； where we could get some
milk。
Accordingly we looked in at a baker’s window； and after I had
made a series of proposals to buy everything that was bilious in
the shop； and he had rejected them one by one； we decided in
favour of a nice little loaf of brown bread； which cost me
threepence。 Then； at a grocer’s shop； we bought an egg and a slice
of streaky bacon； which still left what I thought a good deal of
change； out of the second of the bright shillings； and made me
consider London a very cheap place。 These provisions laid in； we
went on through a great noise and uproar that confused my weary
head beyond description； and over a bridge which； no doubt； was
London Bridge （indeed I think he told me so； but I was half
asleep）； until we came to the poor person’s house； which was a
part of some alms…houses； as I knew by their look； and by an
inscription on a stone over the gate which said they were
established for twenty…five poor women。
The Master at Salem House lifted the latch of one of a number
of little black doors that were all alike； and had each a little
diamond…paned window on one side； and another little diamond…
paned window above； and we went into the little house of one of
these poor old women； who was blowing a fire to make a little
saucepan boil。 On seeing the master enter； the old woman stopped
with the bellows on her knee； and said something that I thought
sounded like ‘My Charley！’ but on seeing me come in too； she got
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
up； and rubbing her hands made a confused sort of half curtsey。
‘Can you cook this young gentleman’s breakfast for him； if you
please？’ said the Master at Salem House。
‘Can I？’ said the old woman。 ‘Yes can I； sure！’
‘How’s Mrs。 Fibbitson today？’ said the Master； looking at
another old woman in a large chair by the fire； who was such a
bundle of clothes that I feel grateful to this hour for not having sat
upon her by mistake。
‘Ah； she’s poorly；’ said the first old woman。 ‘It’s one of her bad
days。 If the fire was to go out； through any accident； I verily
believe she’d go out too； and never come to life again。’
As they looked at her； I looked at her also。 Although it was a
warm day； she seemed to think of nothing but the fire。 I fancied
she was jealous even of the saucepan on it； and I have r