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said Mrs。 Creakle； after a pause； ‘were they all well？’ After another
pause； ‘Was your mama well？’
I trembled without distinctly knowing why； and still looked at
her earnestly； making no attempt to answer。
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
‘Because；’ said she； ‘I grieve to tell you that I hear this morning
your mama is very ill。’
A mist rose between Mrs。 Creakle and me； and her figure
seemed to move in it for an instant。 Then I felt the burning tears
run down my face； and it was steady again。
‘She is very dangerously ill；’ she added。
I knew all now。
‘She is dead。’
There was no need to tell me so。 I had already broken out into a
desolate cry； and felt an orphan in the wide world。
She was very kind to me。 She kept me there all day； and left me
alone sometimes； and I cried； and wore myself to sleep； and awoke
and cried again。 When I could cry no more； I began to think； and
then the oppression on my breast was heaviest； and my grief a dull
pain that there was no ease for。
And yet my thoughts were idle； not intent on the calamity that
weighed upon my heart； but idly loitering near it。 I thought of our
house shut up and hushed。 I thought of the little baby； who； Mrs。
Creakle said； had been pining away for some time； and who； they
believed； would die too。 I thought of my father’s grave in the
churchyard； by our house； and of my mother lying there beneath
the tree I knew so well。 I stood upon a chair when I was left alone；
and looked into the glass to see how red my eyes were； and how
sorrowful my face。 I considered； after some hours were gone； if my
tears were really hard to flow now； as they seemed to be； what； in
connexion with my loss； it would affect me most to think of when I
drew near home—for I was going home to the funeral。 I am
sensible of having felt that a dignity attached to me among the rest
of the boys； and that I was important in my affliction。
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
If ever child were stricken with sincere grief； I was。 But I
remember that this importance was a kind of satisfaction to me；
when I walked in the playground that afternoon while the boys
were in school。 When I saw them glancing at me out of the
windows； as they went up to their classes； I felt distinguished； and
looked more melancholy； and walked slower。 When school was
over； and they came out and spoke to me； I felt it rather good in
myself not to be proud to any of them； and to take exactly the
same notice of them all； as before。
I was to go home next night； not by the mail； but by the heavy
night…coach； which was called the Farmer； and was principally
used by country…people travelling short intermediate distances
upon the road。 We had no story…telling that evening； and Traddles
insisted on lending me his pillow。 I don’t know what good he
thought it would do me； for I had one of my own： but it was all he
had to lend； poor fellow； except a sheet of letter…paper full of
skeletons； and that he gave me at parting； as a soother of my
sorrows and a contribution to my peace of mind。
I left Salem House upon the morrow afternoon。 I little thought
then that I left it； never to return。 We travelled very slowly all
night； and did not get into Yarmouth before nine or ten o’clock in
the morning。 I looked out for Mr。 Barkis； but he was not there； and
instead of him a fat； short…winded； merry…looking； little old man in
black； with rusty little bunches of ribbons at the knees of his
breeches； black stockings； and a broad…brimmed hat； came puffing
up to the coach window； and said：
‘Master Copperfield？’
‘Yes； sir。’
‘Will you come with me； young sir； if you please；’ he said；
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
opening the door； ‘and I shall have the pleasure of taking you
home。’
I put my hand in his； wondering who he was； and we walked
away to a shop in a narrow street； on which was written OMER；
DRAPER； TAILOR； HABERDASHER； FUNERAL FURNISHER；
&c。 It was a close and stifling little shop； full of all sorts of clothing；
made and unmade； including one window full of beaver…hats and
bonnets。 We went into a little back…parlour behind the shop； where
we found three young women at work on a quantity of black
materials； which were heaped upon the table； and little bits and
cuttings of which were littered all over the floor。 There was a good
fire in the room； and a breathless smell of warm black crape—I did
not know what the smell was then； but I know now。
The three young women； who appeared to be very industrious
and comfortable； raised their heads to look at me； and then went
on with their work。 Stitch； stitch； stitch。 At the same time there
came from a workshop across a little yard outside the window； a
regular sound of hammering that kept a kind of tune： Rat—tat…tat；
Rat—tat…tat； Rat—tat…tat； without any variation。
‘Well；’ said my conductor to one of the three young women。
‘How do you get on； Minnie？’
‘We shall be ready by the trying…on time；’ she replied gaily；
without looking up。 ‘Don’t you be afraid； father。’
Mr。 Omer took off his broad…brimmed hat； and sat down and
panted。 He was so fat that he was obliged to pant some time before
he could say：
‘That’s right。’
‘Father！’ said Minnie； playfully。 ‘What a porpoise you do grow！’
‘Well； I don’t know how it is； my dear；’ he replied； considering
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
about it。 ‘I am rather so。’
‘You are such a comfortable man； you see；’ said Minnie。 ‘You
take things so easy。’
‘No use taking ’em otherwise； my dear；’ said Mr。 Omer。
‘No； indeed；’ returned his daughter。 ‘We are all pretty gay here；
thank Heaven！ Ain’t we； father？’
‘I hope so； my dear；’ said Mr。 Omer。 ‘As I have got my breath
now； I think I’ll measure this young scholar。 Would you walk into
the shop； Master Copperfield？’
I preceded Mr。 Omer； in compliance with his request； and after
showing me a roll of cloth which he said was extra super； and too
good mourning for anything short of parents； he took my various
dimensions； and put them down in a book。 While he was recording
them he called my attention to his stock in trade； and to certain
fashions which he said had ‘just come up’； and to certain other
fashions which he said had ‘just gone out’。
‘And by that sort of thing we very often lose a little mint of
money；’ said Mr。 Omer。 ‘But fashions are like human beings。 They
come in； nobody knows when； why； or how； and they go out；
nobody knows when； why； or how。 Everything is like life； in my
opinion； if you look at it in that point of view。’
I was too sorrowful to discuss the question； which would
possibly have been beyond me under any circumstances； and Mr。
Omer took me back into the parlour； breathing with some
difficulty on the way。
He then called down a little break…neck range of steps behind a
door： ‘Bring up that tea and bread…and…butter！’ which； after some
time； duri