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insert Miss Shepherd’s name—I put her in among the Royal
Family。 At home； in my own room； I am sometimes moved to cry
out； ‘Oh； Miss Shepherd！’ in a transport of love。
For some time； I am doubtful of Miss Shepherd’s feelings； but；
at length； Fate being propitious； we meet at the dancing…school。 I
have Miss Shepherd for my partner。 I touch Miss Shepherd’s
glove； and feel a thrill go up the right arm of my jacket； and come
out at my hair。 I say nothing to Miss Shepherd； but we understand
each other。 Miss Shepherd and myself live but to be united。
Why do I secretly give Miss Shepherd twelve Brazil nuts for a
present； I wonder？ They are not expressive of affection； they are
difficult to pack into a parcel of any regular shape； they are hard to
crack； even in room doors； and they are oily when cracked； yet I
feel that they are appropriate to Miss Shepherd。 Soft； seedy
biscuits； also； I bestow upon Miss Shepherd； and oranges
innumerable。 Once； I kiss Miss Shepherd in the cloak…room。
Ecstasy！ What are my agony and indignation next day； when I
hear a flying rumour that the Misses Nettingall have stood Miss
Shepherd in the stocks for turning in her toes！
Miss Shepherd being the one pervading theme and vision of my
life； how do I ever come to break with her？ I can’t conceive。 And
yet a coolness grows between Miss Shepherd and myself。
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
Whispers reach me of Miss Shepherd having said she wished I
wouldn’t stare so； and having avowed a preference for Master
Jones—for Jones！ a boy of no merit whatever！ The gulf between
me and Miss Shepherd widens。 At last； one day； I meet the Misses
Nettingalls’ establishment out walking。 Miss Shepherd makes a
face as she goes by； and laughs to her companion。 All is over。 The
devotion of a life—it seems a life； it is all the same—is at an end；
Miss Shepherd comes out of the morning service； and the Royal
Family know her no more。
I am higher in the school； and no one breaks my peace。 I am not
at all polite； now； to the Misses Nettingalls’ young ladies； and
shouldn’t dote on any of them； if they were twice as many and
twenty times as beautiful。 I think the dancing…school a tiresome
affair； and wonder why the girls can’t dance by themselves and
leave us alone。 I am growing great in Latin verses； and neglect the
laces of my boots。 Doctor Strong refers to me in public as a
promising young scholar。 Mr。 Dick is wild with joy； and my aunt
remits me a guinea by the next post。
The shade of a young butcher rises； like the apparition of an
armed head in Macbeth。 Who is this young butcher？ He is the
terror of the youth of Canterbury。 There is a vague belief abroad；
that the beef suet with which he anoints his hair gives him
unnatural strength； and that he is a match for a man。 He is a
broad…faced； bull…necked； young butcher； with rough red cheeks；
an ill…conditioned mind； and an injurious tongue。 His main use of
this tongue； is； to disparage Doctor Strong’s young gentlemen。 He
says； publicly； that if they want anything he’ll give it ’em。 He
names individuals among them （myself included）； whom he could
undertake to settle with one hand； and the other tied behind him。
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
He waylays the smaller boys to punch their unprotected heads；
and calls challenges after me in the open streets。 For these
sufficient reasons I resolve to fight the butcher。
It is a summer evening； down in a green hollow； at the corner of
a wall。 I meet the butcher by appointment。 I am attended by a
select body of our boys； the butcher； by two other butchers； a
young publican； and a sweep。 The preliminaries are adjusted； and
the butcher and myself stand face to face。 In a moment the
butcher lights ten thousand candles out of my left eyebrow。 In
another moment； I don’t know where the wall is； or where I am； or
where anybody is。 I hardly know which is myself and which the
butcher； we are always in such a tangle and tussle； knocking about
upon the trodden grass。 Sometimes I see the butcher； bloody but
confident； sometimes I see nothing； and sit gasping on my
second’s knee； sometimes I go in at the butcher madly； and cut my
knuckles open against his face； without appearing to discompose
him at all。 At last I awake； very queer about the head； as from a
giddy sleep； and see the butcher walking off； congratulated by the
two other butchers and the sweep and publican； and putting on
his coat as he goes； from which I augur； justly； that the victory is
his。
I am taken home in a sad plight； and I have beef…steaks put to
my eyes； and am rubbed with vinegar and brandy； and find a great
puffy place bursting out on my upper lip； which swells
immoderately。 For three or four days I remain at home； a very ill…
looking subject； with a green shade over my eyes； and I should be
very dull； but that Agnes is a sister to me； and condoles with me；
and reads to me； and makes the time light and happy。 Agnes has
my confidence completely； always； I tell her all about the butcher；
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
and the wrongs he has heaped upon me； she thinks I couldn’t have
done otherwise than fight the butcher； while she shrinks and
trembles at my having fought him。
Time has stolen on unobserved； for Adams is not the head…boy
in the days that are come now； nor has he been this many and
many a day。 Adams has left the school so long； that when he comes
back； on a visit to Doctor Strong； there are not many there； besides
myself； who know him。 Adams is going to be called to the bar
almost directly； and is to be an advocate； and to wear a wig。 I am
surprised to find him a meeker man than I had thought； and less
imposing in appearance。 He has not staggered the world yet；
either； for it goes on （as well as I can make out） pretty much the
same as if he had never joined it。
A blank； through which the warriors of poetry and history
march on in stately hosts that seem to have no end—and what
comes next！ I am the head…boy； now！ I look down on the line of
boys below me； with a condescending interest in such of them as
bring to my mind the boy I was myself； when I first came there。
That little fellow seems to be no part of me； I remember him as
something left behind upon the road of life—as something I have
passed； rather than have actually been—and almost think of him
as of someone else。
And the little girl I saw on that first day at Mr。 Wickfield’s；
where is she？ Gone also。 In her stead； the perfect likeness of the
picture； a child likeness no more； moves about the house； and
Agnes—my sweet sister； as I call her in my thoughts； my
counsellor and friend； the better angel of the lives of all who come
within her calm； good； self…denying influence—is quite a woman。
What other changes have come upon me； besides the changes
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
in my growth and looks； and in the knowledge I have garnered all
this while？ I wear a gold watch and