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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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‘
In
short
,
you
are
provided
for
,
’
observed
his
sister
;
‘
and
will
please
to
do
your
duty
.
’
Though
I
quite
understood
that
the
purpose
of
this
announcement
was
to
get
rid
of
me
,
I
have
no
distinct
remembrance
whether
it
pleased
or
frightened
me
.
My
impression
is
,
that
I
was
in
a
state
of
confusion
about
it
,
and
,
oscillating
between
the
two
points
,
touched
neither
.
Nor
had
I
much
time
for
the
clearing
of
my
thoughts
,
as
Mr
.
Quinion
was
to
go
upon
the
morrow
.
Behold
me
,
on
the
morrow
,
in
a
much
-
worn
little
white
hat
,
with
a
black
crape
round
it
for
my
mother
,
a
black
jacket
,
and
a
pair
of
hard
,
stiff
corduroy
trousers
—
which
Miss
Murdstone
considered
the
best
armour
for
the
legs
in
that
fight
with
the
world
which
was
now
to
come
off
.
behold
me
so
attired
,
and
with
my
little
worldly
all
before
me
in
a
small
trunk
,
sitting
,
a
lone
lorn
child
(
as
Mrs
.
Gummidge
might
have
said
)
,
in
the
post
-
chaise
that
was
carrying
Mr
.
Quinion
to
the
London
coach
at
Yarmouth
!
See
,
how
our
house
and
church
are
lessening
in
the
distance
;
how
the
grave
beneath
the
tree
is
blotted
out
by
intervening
objects
;
how
the
spire
points
upwards
from
my
old
playground
no
more
,
and
the
sky
is
empty
!
Iknow
enough
of
the
world
now
,
to
have
almost
lost
the
capacity
of
being
much
surprised
by
anything
;
but
it
is
matter
of
some
surprise
to
me
,
even
now
,
that
I
can
have
been
so
easily
thrown
away
at
such
an
age
.
A
child
of
excellent
abilities
,
and
with
strong
powers
of
observation
,
quick
,
eager
,
delicate
,
and
soon
hurt
bodily
or
mentally
,
it
seems
wonderful
to
me
that
nobody
should
have
made
any
sign
in
my
behalf
.
But
none
was
made
;
and
I
became
,
at
ten
years
old
,
a
little
labouring
hind
in
the
service
of
Murdstone
and
Grinby
.
Murdstone
and
Grinby
’
s
warehouse
was
at
the
waterside
.
It
was
down
in
Blackfriars
.
Modern
improvements
have
altered
the
place
;
but
it
was
the
last
house
at
the
bottom
of
a
narrow
street
,
curving
down
hill
to
the
river
,
with
some
stairs
at
the
end
,
where
people
took
boat
.
It
was
a
crazy
old
house
with
a
wharf
of
its
own
,
abutting
on
the
water
when
the
tide
was
in
,
and
on
the
mud
when
the
tide
was
out
,
and
literally
overrun
with
rats
.
Its
panelled
rooms
,
discoloured
with
the
dirt
and
smoke
of
a
hundred
years
,
I
dare
say
;
its
decaying
floors
and
staircase
;
the
squeaking
and
scuffling
of
the
old
grey
rats
down
in
the
cellars
;
and
the
dirt
and
rottenness
of
the
place
;
are
things
,
not
of
many
years
ago
,
in
my
mind
,
but
of
the
present
instant
.
They
are
all
before
me
,
just
as
they
were
in
the
evil
hour
when
I
went
among
them
for
the
first
time
,
with
my
trembling
hand
in
Mr
.
Quinion
’
s
.
Murdstone
and
Grinby
’
s
trade
was
among
a
good
many
kinds
of
people
,
but
an
important
branch
of
it
was
the
supply
of
wines
and
spirits
to
certain
packet
ships
.
I
forget
now
where
they
chiefly
went
,
but
I
think
there
were
some
among
them
that
made
voyages
both
to
the
East
and
West
Indies
.
I
know
that
a
great
many
empty
bottles
were
one
of
the
consequences
of
this
traffic
,
and
that
certain
men
and
boys
were
employed
to
examine
them
against
the
light
,
and
reject
those
that
were
flawed
,
and
to
rinse
and
wash
them
.
When
the
empty
bottles
ran
short
,
there
were
labels
to
be
pasted
on
full
ones
,
or
corks
to
be
fitted
to
them
,
or
seals
to
be
put
upon
the
corks
,
or
finished
bottles
to
be
packed
in
casks
.
All
this
work
was
my
work
,
and
of
the
boys
employed
upon
it
I
was
one
.
There
were
three
or
four
of
us
,
counting
me
.
My
working
place
was
established
in
a
corner
of
the
warehouse
,
where
Mr
.
Quinion
could
see
me
,
when
he
chose
to
stand
up
on
the
bottom
rail
of
his
stool
in
the
counting
-
house
,
and
look
at
me
through
a
window
above
the
desk
.
Hither
,
on
the
first
morning
of
my
so
auspiciously
beginning
life
on
my
own
account
,
the
oldest
of
the
regular
boys
was
summoned
to
show
me
my
business
.
His
name
was
Mick
Walker
,
and
he
wore
a
ragged
apron
and
a
paper
cap
.
He
informed
me
that
his
father
was
a
bargeman
,
and
walked
,
in
a
black
velvet
head
-
dress
,
in
the
Lord
Mayor
’
s
Show
.
He
also
informed
me
that
our
principal
associate
would
be
another
boy
whom
he
introduced
by
the
—
to
me
—
extraordinary
name
of
Mealy
Potatoes
.
I
discovered
,
however
,
that
this
youth
had
not
been
christened
by
that
name
,
but
that
it
had
been
bestowed
upon
him
in
the
warehouse
,
on
account
of
his
complexion
,
which
was
pale
or
mealy
.
Mealy
’
s
father
was
a
waterman
,
who
had
the
additional
distinction
of
being
a
fireman
,
and
was
engaged
as
such
at
one
of
the
large
theatres
;
where
some
young
relation
of
Mealy
’
s
—
I
think
his
little
sister
—
did
Imps
in
the
Pantomimes
.
No
words
can
express
the
secret
agony
of
my
soul
as
I
sunk
into
this
companionship
;
compared
these
henceforth
everyday
associates
with
those
of
my
happier
childhood
—
not
to
say
with
Steerforth
,
Traddles
,
and
the
rest
of
those
boys
;
and
felt
my
hopes
of
growing
up
to
be
a
learned
and
distinguished
man
,
crushed
in
my
bosom
.
The
deep
remembrance
of
the
sense
I
had
,
of
being
utterly
without
hope
now
;
of
the
shame
I
felt
in
my
position
;
of
the
misery
it
was
to
my
young
heart
to
believe
that
day
by
day
what
I
had
learned
,
and
thought
,
and
delighted
in
,
and
raised
my
fancy
and
my
emulation
up
by
,
would
pass
away
from
me
,
little
by
little
,
never
to
be
brought
back
any
more
;
cannot
be
written
.
As
often
as
Mick
Walker
went
away
in
the
course
of
that
forenoon
,
I
mingled
my
tears
with
the
water
in
which
I
was
washing
the
bottles
;
and
sobbed
as
if
there
were
a
flaw
in
my
own
breast
,
and
it
were
in
danger
of
bursting
.
The
counting
-
house
clock
was
at
half
past
twelve
,
and
there
was
general
preparation
for
going
to
dinner
,
when
Mr
.
Quinion
tapped
at
the
counting
-
house
window
,
and
beckoned
to
me
to
go
in
.
