按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
tongue； were attracted towards my aunt very often during
breakfast。 I never could look at her for a few moments together
but I found her looking at me—in an odd thoughtful manner； as if
I were an immense way off； instead of being on the other side of
the small round table。 When she had finished her breakfast； my
aunt very deliberately leaned back in her chair； knitted her brows；
folded her arms； and contemplated me at her leisure； with such a
fixedness of attention that I was quite overpowered by
embarrassment。 Not having as yet finished my own breakfast； I
attempted to hide my confusion by proceeding with it； but my
knife tumbled over my fork； my fork tripped up my knife； I
chipped bits of bacon a surprising height into the air instead of
cutting them for my own eating； and choked myself with my tea；
which persisted in going the wrong way instead of the right one；
until I gave in altogether； and sat blushing under my aunt’s close
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
scrutiny。
‘Hallo！’ said my aunt； after a long time。
I looked up； and met her sharp bright glance respectfully。
‘I have written to him；’ said my aunt。
‘To—？’
‘To your father…in…law；’ said my aunt。 ‘I have sent him a letter
that I’ll trouble him to attend to； or he and I will fall out； I can tell
him！’
‘Does he know where I am； aunt？’ I inquired； alarmed。
‘I have told him；’ said my aunt； with a nod。
‘Shall I—be—given up to him？’ I faltered。
‘I don’t know；’ said my aunt。 ‘We shall see。’
‘Oh！ I can’t think what I shall do；’ I exclaimed； ‘if I have to go
back to Mr。 Murdstone！’
‘I don’t know anything about it；’ said my aunt； shaking her
head。 ‘I can’t say； I am sure。 We shall see。’
My spirits sank under these words； and I became very downcast
and heavy of heart。 My aunt； without appearing to take much heed
of me； put on a coarse apron with a bib； which she took out of the
press； washed up the teacups with her own hands； and； when
everything was washed and set in the tray again； and the cloth
folded and put on the top of the whole； rang for Janet to remove it。
She next swept up the crumbs with a little broom （putting on a
pair of gloves first）； until there did not appear to be one
microscopic speck left on the carpet； next dusted and arranged the
room； which was dusted and arranged to a hair’s breadth already。
When all these tasks were performed to her satisfaction； she took
off the gloves and apron； folded them up； put them in the
particular corner of the press from which they had been taken；
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
brought out her work…box to her own table in the open window；
and sat down； with the green fan between her and the light； to
work。
‘I wish you’d go upstairs；’ said my aunt； as she threaded her
needle； ‘and give my compliments to Mr。 Dick； and I’ll be glad to
know how he gets on with his Memorial。’
I rose with all alacrity； to acquit myself of this commission。
‘I suppose；’ said my aunt； eyeing me as narrowly as she had
eyed the needle in threading it； ‘you think Mr。 Dick a short name；
eh？’
‘I thought it was rather a short name； yesterday；’ I confessed。
‘You are not to suppose that he hasn’t got a longer name； if he
chose to use it；’ said my aunt； with a loftier air。 ‘Babley—Mr。
Richard Babley—that’s the gentleman’s true name。’
I was going to suggest； with a modest sense of my youth and the
familiarity I had been already guilty of； that I had better give him
the full benefit of that name； when my aunt went on to say：
‘But don’t you call him by it； whatever you do。 He can’t bear his
name。 That’s a peculiarity of his。 Though I don’t know that it’s
much of a peculiarity； either； for he has been ill…used enough； by
some that bear it； to have a mortal antipathy for it； Heaven knows。
Mr。 Dick is his name here； and everywhere else； now—if he ever
went anywhere else； which he don’t。 So take care； child； you don’t
call him anything but Mr。 Dick。’
I promised to obey； and went upstairs with my message；
thinking； as I went； that if Mr。 Dick had been working at his
Memorial long； at the same rate as I had seen him working at it；
through the open door； when I came down； he was probably
getting on very well indeed。 I found him still driving at it with a
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
long pen； and his head almost laid upon the paper。 He was so
intent upon it； that I had ample leisure to observe the large paper
kite in a corner； the confusion of bundles of manuscript； the
number of pens； and； above all； the quantity of ink （which he
seemed to have in； in half…gallon jars by the dozen）； before he
observed my being present。
‘Ha！ Phoebus！’ said Mr。 Dick； laying down his pen。 ‘How does
the world go？ I’ll tell you what；’ he added； in a lower tone； ‘I
shouldn’t wish it to be mentioned； but it’s a—’ here he beckoned to
me； and put his lips close to my ear—‘it’s a mad world。 Mad as
Bedlam； boy！’ said Mr。 Dick； taking snuff from a round box on the
table； and laughing heartily。
Without presuming to give my opinion on this question； I
delivered my message。
‘Well；’ said Mr。 Dick； in answer； ‘my compliments to her； and
I—I believe I have made a start。 I think I have made a start；’ said
Mr。 Dick； passing his hand among his grey hair； and casting
anything but a confident look at his manuscript。 ‘You have been to
school？’
‘Yes； sir；’ I answered； ‘for a short time。’
‘Do you recollect the date；’ said Mr。 Dick； looking earnestly at
me； and taking up his pen to note it down； ‘when King Charles the
First had his head cut off？’ I said I believed it happened in the
year sixteen hundred and forty…nine。
‘Well；’ returned Mr。 Dick； scratching his ear with his pen； and
looking dubiously at me。 ‘So the books say； but I don’t see how
that can be。 Because； if it was so long ago； how could the people
about him have made that mistake of putting some of the trouble
out of his head； after it was taken off； into mine？’
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
I was very much surprised by the inquiry； but could give no
information on this point。
‘It’s very strange；’ said Mr。 Dick； with a despondent look upon
his papers； and with his hand among his hair again； ‘that I never
can get that quite right。 I never can make that perfectly clear。 But
no matter； no matter！’ he said cheerfully； and rousing himself；
‘there’s time enough！ My compliments to Miss Trotwood； I am
getting on very well indeed。’
I was going away； when he directed my attention to the kite。
‘What do you think of that for a kite？’ he said。
I answered that it was a beautiful one。 I should think it must
have been as much as seven feet high。
‘I made it。 We’ll go and fly it； you and I；’ said Mr。 Dick。 ‘Do you
see this？’
He showed me that it was covered with manuscript； very closely
and laboriously written； but so plainly； tha