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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 164/820
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I
think
,
as
Mrs
.
Micawber
sat
at
the
back
of
the
coach
,
with
the
children
,
and
I
stood
in
the
road
looking
wistfully
at
them
,
a
mist
cleared
from
her
eyes
,
and
she
saw
what
a
little
creature
I
really
was
.
I
think
so
,
because
she
beckoned
to
me
to
climb
up
,
with
quite
a
new
and
motherly
expression
in
her
face
,
and
put
her
arm
round
my
neck
,
and
gave
me
just
such
a
kiss
as
she
might
have
given
to
her
own
boy
.
I
had
barely
time
to
get
down
again
before
the
coach
started
,
and
I
could
hardly
see
the
family
for
the
handkerchiefs
they
waved
.
It
was
gone
in
a
minute
.
The
Orfling
and
I
stood
looking
vacantly
at
each
other
in
the
middle
of
the
road
,
and
then
shook
hands
and
said
good
-
bye
;
she
going
back
,
I
suppose
,
to
St
.
Luke
’
s
workhouse
,
as
I
went
to
begin
my
weary
day
at
Murdstone
and
Grinby
’
s
.
But
with
no
intention
of
passing
many
more
weary
days
there
.
No
.
I
had
resolved
to
run
away
.
—
To
go
,
by
some
means
or
other
,
down
into
the
country
,
to
the
only
relation
I
had
in
the
world
,
and
tell
my
story
to
my
aunt
,
Miss
Betsey
.
I
have
already
observed
that
I
don
’
t
know
how
this
desperate
idea
came
into
my
brain
.
But
,
once
there
,
it
remained
there
;
and
hardened
into
a
purpose
than
which
I
have
never
entertained
a
more
determined
purpose
in
my
life
.
I
am
far
from
sure
that
I
believed
there
was
anything
hopeful
in
it
,
but
my
mind
was
thoroughly
made
up
that
it
must
be
carried
into
execution
.
Again
,
and
again
,
and
a
hundred
times
again
,
since
the
night
when
the
thought
had
first
occurred
to
me
and
banished
sleep
,
I
had
gone
over
that
old
story
of
my
poor
mother
’
s
about
my
birth
,
which
it
had
been
one
of
my
great
delights
in
the
old
time
to
hear
her
tell
,
and
which
I
knew
by
heart
.
My
aunt
walked
into
that
story
,
and
walked
out
of
it
,
a
dread
and
awful
personage
;
but
there
was
one
little
trait
in
her
behaviour
which
I
liked
to
dwell
on
,
and
which
gave
me
some
faint
shadow
of
encouragement
.
I
could
not
forget
how
my
mother
had
thought
that
she
felt
her
touch
her
pretty
hair
with
no
ungentle
hand
;
and
though
it
might
have
been
altogether
my
mother
’
s
fancy
,
and
might
have
had
no
foundation
whatever
in
fact
,
I
made
a
little
picture
,
out
of
it
,
of
my
terrible
aunt
relenting
towards
the
girlish
beauty
that
I
recollected
so
well
and
loved
so
much
,
which
softened
the
whole
narrative
.
It
is
very
possible
that
it
had
been
in
my
mind
a
long
time
,
and
had
gradually
engendered
my
determination
.
As
I
did
not
even
know
where
Miss
Betsey
lived
,
I
wrote
a
long
letter
to
Peggotty
,
and
asked
her
,
incidentally
,
if
she
remembered
;
pretending
that
I
had
heard
of
such
a
lady
living
at
a
certain
place
I
named
at
random
,
and
had
a
curiosity
to
know
if
it
were
the
same
.
In
the
course
of
that
letter
,
I
told
Peggotty
that
I
had
a
particular
occasion
for
half
a
guinea
;
and
that
if
she
could
lend
me
that
sum
until
I
could
repay
it
,
I
should
be
very
much
obliged
to
her
,
and
would
tell
her
afterwards
what
I
had
wanted
it
for
.
Peggotty
’
s
answer
soon
arrived
,
and
was
,
as
usual
,
full
of
affectionate
devotion
.
She
enclosed
the
half
guinea
(
I
was
afraid
she
must
have
had
a
world
of
trouble
to
get
it
out
of
Mr
.
Barkis
’
s
box
)
,
and
told
me
that
Miss
Betsey
lived
near
Dover
,
but
whether
at
Dover
itself
,
at
Hythe
,
Sandgate
,
or
Folkestone
,
she
could
not
say
.
One
of
our
men
,
however
,
informing
me
on
my
asking
him
about
these
places
,
that
they
were
all
close
together
,
I
deemed
this
enough
for
my
object
,
and
resolved
to
set
out
at
the
end
of
that
week
.
Being
a
very
honest
little
creature
,
and
unwilling
to
disgrace
the
memory
I
was
going
to
leave
behind
me
at
Murdstone
and
Grinby
’
s
,
I
considered
myself
bound
to
remain
until
Saturday
night
;
and
,
as
I
had
been
paid
a
week
’
s
wages
in
advance
when
I
first
came
there
,
not
to
present
myself
in
the
counting
-
house
at
the
usual
hour
,
to
receive
my
stipend
.
For
this
express
reason
,
I
had
borrowed
the
half
-
guinea
,
that
I
might
not
be
without
a
fund
for
my
travelling
-
expenses
.
Accordingly
,
when
the
Saturday
night
came
,
and
we
were
all
waiting
in
the
warehouse
to
be
paid
,
and
Tipp
the
carman
,
who
always
took
precedence
,
went
in
first
to
draw
his
money
,
I
shook
Mick
Walker
by
the
hand
;
asked
him
,
when
it
came
to
his
turn
to
be
paid
,
to
say
to
Mr
.
Quinion
that
I
had
gone
to
move
my
box
to
Tipp
’
s
;
and
,
bidding
a
last
good
night
to
Mealy
Potatoes
,
ran
away
.
My
box
was
at
my
old
lodging
,
over
the
water
,
and
I
had
written
a
direction
for
it
on
the
back
of
one
of
our
address
cards
that
we
nailed
on
the
casks
:
‘
Master
David
,
to
be
left
till
called
for
,
at
the
Coach
Office
,
Dover
.
’
This
I
had
in
my
pocket
ready
to
put
on
the
box
,
after
I
should
have
got
it
out
of
the
house
;
and
as
I
went
towards
my
lodging
,
I
looked
about
me
for
someone
who
would
help
me
to
carry
it
to
the
booking
-
office
.
There
was
a
long
-
legged
young
man
with
a
very
little
empty
donkey
-
cart
,
standing
near
the
Obelisk
,
in
the
Blackfriars
Road
,
whose
eye
I
caught
as
I
was
going
by
,
and
who
,
addressing
me
as
‘
Sixpenn
’
orth
of
bad
ha
’
pence
,
’
hoped
‘
I
should
know
him
agin
to
swear
to
’
—
in
allusion
,
I
have
no
doubt
,
to
my
staring
at
him
.
I
stopped
to
assure
him
that
I
had
not
done
so
in
bad
manners
,
but
uncertain
whether
he
might
or
might
not
like
a
job
.
‘
Wot
job
?
’
said
the
long
-
legged
young
man
.
