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I lounged about the house and neighbourhood quite disregarded；
except that they were jealous of my making any friends： thinking；
perhaps； that if I did； I might complain to someone。 For this
reason； though Mr。 Chillip often asked me to go and see him （he
was a widower； having； some years before that； lost a little small
light…haired wife； whom I can just remember connecting in my
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
own thoughts with a pale tortoise…shell cat）； it was but seldom that
I enjoyed the happiness of passing an afternoon in his closet of a
surgery； reading some book that was new to me； with the smell of
the whole Pharmacopoeia coming up my nose； or pounding
something in a mortar under his mild directions。
For the same reason； added no doubt to the old dislike of her； I
was seldom allowed to visit Peggotty。 Faithful to her promise； she
either came to see me； or met me somewhere near； once every
week； and never empty…handed； but many and bitter were the
disappointments I had； in being refused permission to pay a visit
to her at her house。 Some few times； however； at long intervals； I
was allowed to go there； and then I found out that Mr。 Barkis was
something of a miser； or as Peggotty dutifully expressed it； was ‘a
little near’； and kept a heap of money in a box under his bed；
which he pretended was only full of coats and trousers。 In this
coffer； his riches hid themselves with such a tenacious modesty；
that the smallest instalments could only be tempted out by artifice；
so that Peggotty had to prepare a long and elaborate scheme； a
very Gunpowder Plot； for every Saturday’s expenses。
All this time I was so conscious of the waste of any promise I
had given； and of my being utterly neglected； that I should have
been perfectly miserable； I have no doubt； but for the old books。
They were my only comfort； and I was as true to them as they
were to me； and read them over and over I don’t know how many
times more。
I now approach a period of my life； which I can never lose the
remembrance of； while I remember anything： and the recollection
of which has often； without my invocation； come before me like a
ghost； and haunted happier times。
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
I had been out； one day； loitering somewhere； in the listless；
meditative manner that my way of life engendered； when； turning
the corner of a lane near our house； I came upon Mr。 Murdstone
walking with a gentleman。 I was confused； and was going by them；
when the gentleman cried：
‘What！ Brooks！’
‘No； sir； David Copperfield；’ I said。
‘Don’t tell me。 You are Brooks；’ said the gentleman。 ‘You are
Brooks of Sheffield。 That’s your name。’
At these words； I observed the gentleman more attentively。 His
laugh coming to my remembrance too； I knew him to be Mr。
Quinion； whom I had gone over to Lowestoft with Mr。 Murdstone
to see； before—it is no matter—I need not recall when。
‘And how do you get on； and where are you being educated；
Brooks？’ said Mr。 Quinion。
He had put his hand upon my shoulder； and turned me about；
to walk with them。 I did not know what to reply； and glanced
dubiously at Mr。 Murdstone。
‘He is at home at present；’ said the latter。 ‘He is not being
educated anywhere。 I don’t know what to do with him。 He is a
difficult subject。’
That old； double look was on me for a moment； and then his
eyes darkened with a frown； as it turned； in its aversion；
elsewhere。
‘Humph！’ said Mr。 Quinion； looking at us both； I thought。 ‘Fine
weather！’
Silence ensued； and I was considering how I could best
disengage my shoulder from his hand； and go away； when he said：
‘I suppose you are a pretty sharp fellow still？ Eh； Brooks？’
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
‘Aye！ He is sharp enough；’ said Mr。 Murdstone； impatiently。
‘You had better let him go。 He will not thank you for troubling
him。’
On this hint； Mr。 Quinion released me； and I made the best of
my way home。 Looking back as I turned into the front garden； I
saw Mr。 Murdstone leaning against the wicket of the churchyard；
and Mr。 Quinion talking to him。 They were both looking after me；
and I felt that they were speaking of me。
Mr。 Quinion lay at our house that night。 After breakfast； the
next morning； I had put my chair away； and was going out of the
room； when Mr。 Murdstone called me back。 He then gravely
repaired to another table； where his sister sat herself at her desk。
Mr。 Quinion； with his hands in his pockets； stood looking out of
window； and I stood looking at them all。
‘David；’ said Mr。 Murdstone； ‘to the young this is a world for
action； not for moping and droning in。’
—‘As you do；’ added his sister。
‘Jane Murdstone； leave it to me； if you please。 I say； David； to
the young this is a world for action； and not for moping and
droning in。 It is especially so for a young boy of your disposition；
which requires a great deal of correcting； and to which no greater
service can be done than to force it to conform to the ways of the
working world； and to bend it and break it。’
‘For stubbornness won’t do here；’ said his sister ‘What it wants
is； to be crushed。 And crushed it must be。 Shall be； too！’
He gave her a look； half in remonstrance； half in approval； and
went on：
‘I suppose you know； David； that I am not rich。 At any rate； you
know it now。 You have received some considerable education
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
already。 Education is costly； and even if it were not； and I could
afford it； I am of opinion that it would not be at all advantageous to
you to be kept at school。 What is before you； is a fight with the
world； and the sooner you begin it； the better。’
I think it occurred to me that I had already begun it； in my poor
way： but it occurs to me now； whether or no。
‘You have heard the “counting…house” mentioned sometimes；’
said Mr。 Murdstone。
‘The counting…house； sir？’ I repeated。 ‘Of Murdstone and
Grinby； in the wine trade；’ he replied。
I suppose I looked uncertain； for he went on hastily：
‘You have heard the “counting…house” mentioned； or the
business； or the cellars； or the wharf； or something about it。’
‘I think I have heard the business mentioned； sir；’ I said；
remembering what I vaguely knew of his and his sister’s
resources。 ‘But I don’t know when。’
‘It does not matter when；’ he returned。 ‘Mr。 Quinion manages
that business。’
I glanced at the latter deferentially as he stood looking out of
window。
‘Mr。 Quinion suggests that it gives employment to some other
boys； and that he sees no reason why it shouldn’t； on the same
terms； give employment to you。’
‘He having；’ Mr。 Quinion observed in a low voice； and half
turning round； ‘no other prospect； Murdstone。’
Mr。 Murdstone； with an impatient； even an angry gesture；
resumed； without noticing what he had said：
‘Those terms are； that you will earn enough for yourself to