never　saw　such　a　good　house；　Steerforth。　It’s　made　out　of　a　boat！’
  ‘Made　out　of　a　boat；　is　it？’　said　Steerforth。　‘It’s　the　right　sort　of　a
  house　for　such　a　thorough…built　boatman。’
  ‘So　’tis；　sir；　so　’tis；　sir；’　said　Ham；　grinning。　‘You’re　right；　young
  gen’l’m’n！　Mas’r　Davy　bor’；　gen’l’m’n’s　right。　A　thorough…built
  boatman！　Hor；　hor！　That’s　what　he　is；　too！’
  Mr。　Peggotty　was　no　less　pleased　than　his　nephew；　though　his
  modesty　forbade　him　to　claim　a　personal　compliment　so
  vociferously。
  ‘Well；　sir；’　he　said；　bowing　and　chuckling；　and　tucking　in　the
  ends　of　his　neckerchief　at　his　breast：　‘I　thankee；　sir；　I　thankee！　I　do
  my　endeavours　in　my　line　of　life；　sir。’
  ‘The　best　of　men　can　do　no　more；　Mr。　Peggotty；’　said　Steerforth。
  He　had　got　his　name　already。
  ‘I’ll　pound　it；　it’s　wot　you　do　yourself；　sir；’　said　Mr。　Peggotty；
  Charles　Dickens　ElecBook　Classics
  David　Copperfield
  shaking　his　head；　‘and　wot　you　do　well—right　well！　I　thankee；　sir。
  I’m　obleeged　to　you；　sir；　for　your　welcoming　manner　of　me。　I’m
  rough；　sir；　but　I’m　ready—least　ways；　I　hope　I’m　ready；　you
  unnerstand。　My　house　ain’t　much　for　to　see；　sir；　but　it’s　hearty　at
  your　service　if　ever　you　should　come　along　with　Mas’r　Davy　to　see
  it。　I’m　a　reg’lar　Dodman；　I　am；’　said　Mr。　Peggotty；　by　which　he
  meant　snail；　and　this　was　in　allusion　to　his　being　slow　to　go；　for　he
  had　attempted　to　go　after　every　sentence；　and　had　somehow　or
  other　come　back　again；　‘but　I　wish　you　both　well；　and　I　wish　you
  happy！’
  Ham　echoed　this　sentiment；　and　we　parted　with　them　in　the
  heartiest　manner。　I　was　almost　tempted　that　evening　to　tell
  Steerforth　about　pretty　little　Em’ly；　but　I　was　too　timid　of
  mentioning　her　name；　and　too　much　afraid　of　his　laughing　at　me。　I
  remember　that　I　thought　a　good　deal；　and　in　an　uneasy　sort　of
  way；　about　Mr。　Peggotty　having　said　that　she　was　getting　on　to　be
  a　woman；　but　I　decided　that　was　nonsense。
  We　transported　the　shellfish；　or　the　‘relish’　as　Mr。　Peggotty　had
  modestly　called　it；　up　into　our　room　unobserved；　and　made　a　great
  supper　that　evening。　But　Traddles　couldn’t　get　happily　out　of　it。
  He　was　too　unfortunate　even　to　come　through　a　supper　like
  anybody　else。　He　was　taken　ill　in　the　night—quite　prostrate　he
  was—in　consequence　of　Crab；　and　after　being　drugged　with　black
  draughts　and　blue　pills；　to　an　extent　which　Demple　（whose　father
  was　a　doctor）　said　was　enough　to　undermine　a　horse’s
  constitution；　received　a　caning　and　six　chapters　of　Greek
  Testament　for　refusing　to　confess。
  The　rest　of　the　half…year　is　a　jumble　in　my　recollection　of　the
  daily　strife　and　struggle　of　our　lives；　of　the　waning　summer　and
  Charles　Dickens　ElecBook　Classics
  David　Copperfield
  the　changing　season；　of　the　frosty　mornings　when　we　were　rung
  out　of　bed；　and　the　cold；　cold　smell　of　the　dark　nights　when　we
  were　rung　into　bed　again；　of　the　evening　schoolroom　dimly　lighted
  and　indifferently　warmed；　and　the　morning　schoolroom　which　was
  nothing　but　a　great　shivering…machine；　of　the　alternation　of　boiled
  beef　with　roast　beef；　and　boiled　mutton　with　roast　mutton；　of　clods
  of　bread…and…butter；　dog’s…eared　lesson…books；　cracked　slates；
  tear…blotted　copy…books；　canings；　rulerings；　hair…cuttings；　rainy
  Sundays；　suet…puddings；　and　a　dirty　atmosphere　of　ink；
  surrounding　all。
  I　well　remember　though；　how　the　distant　idea　of　the　holidays；
  after　seeming　for　an　immense　time　to　be　a　stationary　speck；　began
  to　come　towards　us；　and　to　grow　and　grow。　How　from　counting
  months；　we　came　to　weeks；　and　then　to　days；　and　how　I　then
  began　to　be　afraid　that　I　should　not　be　sent　for　and　when　I　learnt
  from　Steerforth　that　I　had　been　sent　for；　and　was　certainly　to　go
  home；　had　dim　forebodings　that　I　might　break　my　leg　first。　How
  the　breaking…up　day　changed　its　place　fast；　at　last；　from　the　week
  after　next　to　next　week；　this　week；　the　day　after　tomorrow；
  tomorrow；　today；　tonight—when　I　was　inside　the　Yarmouth　mail；
  and　going　home。
  I　had　many　a　broken　sleep　inside　the　Yarmouth　mail；　and　many
  an　incoherent　dream　of　all　these　things。　But　when　I　awoke　at
  intervals；　the　ground　outside　the　window　was　not　the　playground
  of　Salem　House；　and　the　sound　in　my　ears　was　not　the　sound　of
  Mr。　Creakle　giving　it　to　Traddles；　but　the　sound　of　the　coachman
  touching　up　the　horses。
  Charles　Dickens　ElecBook　Classics
  David　Copperfield
  Chapter　8
  MY　HOLIDAYS。　ESPECIALLY　ONE　HAPPY
  AFTERNOON
  When　we　arrived　before　day　at　the　inn　where　the　mail
  stopped；　which　was　not　the　inn　where　my　friend　the
  waiter　lived；　I　was　shown　up　to　a　nice　little　bedroom；
  with　DOLPHIN　painted　on　the　door。　Very　cold　I　was；　I　know；
  notwithstanding　the　hot　tea　they　had　given　me　before　a　large　fire
  downstairs；　and　very　glad　I　was　to　turn　into　the　Dolphin’s　bed；　pull
  the　Dolphin’s　blankets　round　my　head；　and　go　to　sleep。
  Mr。　Barkis　the　carrier　was　to　call　for　me　in　the　morning　at　nine
  o’clock。　I　got　up　at　eight；　a　little　giddy　from　the　shortness　of　my
  night’s　rest；　and　was　ready　for　him　before　the　appointed　time。　He
  received　me　exactly　as　if　not　five　minutes　had　elapsed　since　we
  were　last　together；　and　I　had　only　been　into　the　hotel　to　get　change
  for　sixpence；　or　something　of　that　sort。
  As　soon　as　I　and　my　box　were　in　the　cart；　and　the　carrier
  seated；　the　lazy　horse　walked　away　with　us　all　at　his　accustomed
  pace。
  ‘You　look　very　well；　Mr。　Barkis；’　I　said；　thinking　he　would　like
  to　know　it。
  Mr。　Barkis　rubbed　his　cheek　with　his　cuff；　and　then　looked　at
  his　cuff　as　if　he　expected　to　find　some　of　the　bloom　upon　it；　but
  made　no　other　acknowledgement　of　the　compliment。
  ‘I　gave　your　message；　Mr。　Barkis；’　I　said：　‘I　wrote　to　Peggotty。’
  ‘Ah！’　said　Mr。　Barkis。
  Charles　Dickens　ElecBook　Classics
  David　Copperfield
  Mr。　Barkis　seemed　gruff；　and　answered　drily。
  ‘Wasn’t　it　right；　Mr。　Barkis？’　I　asked；　after　a　little　hesitation。
  ‘Why；　no；’　said　Mr。　Barkis。
  ‘Not　the　message？’
  ‘The　message　was　right　enough；　perhaps；’　said　Mr。　Barkis；　‘but
  it　come　to　an　end　there。’
  Not　understanding　what　he　meant；　I　repeated　inquisitively：
  ‘Came　to　an　end；　Mr。　Barkis？’
  ‘Nothing　come　of　it；’　he　explained；　looking　at　me　sideways。　‘No
  answer。’
  ‘There　was　an　answer　expected；　was　there；　Mr。　Barkis？’　said　I；
  opening　my　eyes。　For　this　was　a　new　light　to　me。
  ‘When　a　man　says　he’s　willin’；’　said　Mr。　Barkis；　turning　his
  glance　slowly　on　me　again；　‘it’s　as　much　as　to　say；　that　man’s　awaitin’　for　a　answer。’
  ‘Well；　Mr。　Barkis？’
  ‘Well；’　said　Mr。　Barkis；　carrying　his　eyes　back　to　his　horse’s
  ears；　‘that　man’s　been　a…waitin’　for　a　answer　ever　since。’
  ‘Have　you　told　her　so；　Mr。　Barkis？’
  ‘No—no；’　growled　Mr。　Barkis；　reflecting　about　it。　‘I　ain’t　got　no
  call　to　go　and　tell　her　so。　I　never　said　six　words　to　her　myself；　I
  ain’t　a…goin’　to　tell　her　so。’
  ‘Would　you　like　me　to　do　it；　Mr。　Barkis？’　said　I；　doubtfully。　‘You
  might　tell　her；　if　you　would；’　said　Mr。　Barkis；　with　another　slow
  look　at　me；　‘that　Barkis　was　a…waitin’　for　a　answer。　Says　you—
  what　name　is　it？’
  ‘Her　name？’
  ‘Ah！’　said　Mr。　Barkis；　with　a　nod　of　his　head。
  ‘Peggotty。’
  Charles　Dickens　ElecBook　Classics
  David　Copperfield
  ‘Chrisen　name？　Or　nat’ral　name？’　said　Mr。　Barkis。
  ‘Oh；　it’s　not　her　Christian　name。　Her　Christian　name　is　Clara。’
  ‘Is　it　though？’　said　Mr。　Barkis。
  He　seemed　to　find　an　immense　fund　of　reflection　in　this
  circumstance；　and　sat　pondering　and　inwardly　whistling　for　some
  time。
  ‘Well！’　he　resumed　at　length。　‘Says　you；　“Peggotty！　Barkis　is
  waitin’　for　a　answer。”　Says　she；　perhaps；　“Answer　to　what？”　Says
  you；　“To　what　I　told　you。”　“What　is　that？”　says　she。　“Barkis　is
  willin’；”　says　you。’
  This　extremely　artful　suggestion　Mr。　Barkis　accompanied　with
  a　nudge　of　his　elbow　that　gave　me　quite　a　stitch　in　my　side。　After
  that；　he　slouched　over　his　horse　in　his　usual　manner；　and　made　no
  other　reference　to　the　subject　except；　half　an　hour　afterwards；
  taking　a　piece　of　chalk　from　his　pocket；　and　writing　up；　inside　the
  tilt　of　the　cart；　‘Clara　Peggotty’—apparently　as　a　private
  memorandum。
  Ah；　what　a　strange　feeling　it　was　to　be　going　home　when　it　was
  not　home；　and　to　find　that　every　object　I　looked　at；　reminded　me　of
  the　happy　old　home；　which　was　like　a　dream　I　could　never　dream
  again！　The　days　when　my　mother　and　I　and　Peggotty　were　all　in
  all　to　one　another；　and　there　was　no　one　to　come　between　us；　rose
  up　before　me　so　sorrowfully　on　the　road；　that　I　am　not　sure　I　was
  glad　to　be　there—not　sure　but　that　I　would　rather　have　remained
  away；　and　forgotten　it　in　Steerforth’s　company。　But　there　I　was；
  and　soon　I　was　at　our　house；　where　the　bare　old　elm…trees　wrung
  their　many　hands　in　the　bleak　wintry　air；　and　shreds　of　the　old
  rooks’…nests　drifted　away　upon　the　wind。
  The　carrier　put　my　box　down　at　the　garden…gate；　and　left　me。　I
  Charles　Dickens　ElecBook　Classics
  David　Copperfield
  walked