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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 485/820
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On
a
table
by
the
window
in
Buckingham
Street
,
we
set
out
the
work
Traddles
procured
for
him
—
which
was
to
make
,
I
forget
how
many
copies
of
a
legal
document
about
some
right
of
way
—
and
on
another
table
we
spread
the
last
unfinished
original
of
the
great
Memorial
.
Our
instructions
to
Mr
.
Dick
were
that
he
should
copy
exactly
what
he
had
before
him
,
without
the
least
departure
from
the
original
;
and
that
when
he
felt
it
necessary
to
make
the
slightest
allusion
to
King
Charles
the
First
,
he
should
fly
to
the
Memorial
.
We
exhorted
him
to
be
resolute
in
this
,
and
left
my
aunt
to
observe
him
.
My
aunt
reported
to
us
,
afterwards
,
that
,
at
first
,
he
was
like
a
man
playing
the
kettle
-
drums
,
and
constantly
divided
his
attentions
between
the
two
;
but
that
,
finding
this
confuse
and
fatigue
him
,
and
having
his
copy
there
,
plainly
before
his
eyes
,
he
soon
sat
at
it
in
an
orderly
business
-
like
manner
,
and
postponed
the
Memorial
to
a
more
convenient
time
.
In
a
word
,
although
we
took
great
care
that
he
should
have
no
more
to
do
than
was
good
for
him
,
and
although
he
did
not
begin
with
the
beginning
of
a
week
,
he
earned
by
the
following
Saturday
night
ten
shillings
and
nine
-
pence
;
and
never
,
while
I
live
,
shall
I
forget
his
going
about
to
all
the
shops
in
the
neighbourhood
to
change
this
treasure
into
sixpences
,
or
his
bringing
them
to
my
aunt
arranged
in
the
form
of
a
heart
upon
a
waiter
,
with
tears
of
joy
and
pride
in
his
eyes
.
He
was
like
one
under
the
propitious
influence
of
a
charm
,
from
the
moment
of
his
being
usefully
employed
;
and
if
there
were
a
happy
man
in
the
world
,
that
Saturday
night
,
it
was
the
grateful
creature
who
thought
my
aunt
the
most
wonderful
woman
in
existence
,
and
me
the
most
wonderful
young
man
.
‘
No
starving
now
,
Trotwood
,
’
said
Mr
.
Dick
,
shaking
hands
with
me
in
a
corner
.
‘
I
’
ll
provide
for
her
,
Sir
!
’
and
he
flourished
his
ten
fingers
in
the
air
,
as
if
they
were
ten
banks
.
I
hardly
know
which
was
the
better
pleased
,
Traddles
or
I
.
‘
It
really
,
’
said
Traddles
,
suddenly
,
taking
a
letter
out
of
his
pocket
,
and
giving
it
to
me
,
‘
put
Mr
.
Micawber
quite
out
of
my
head
!
’
The
letter
(
Mr
.
Micawber
never
missed
any
possible
opportunity
of
writing
a
letter
)
was
addressed
to
me
,
‘
By
the
kindness
of
T
.
Traddles
,
Esquire
,
of
the
Inner
Temple
.
’
It
ran
thus
:
—
‘
My
DEAR
COPPERFIELD
,
‘
You
may
possibly
not
be
unprepared
to
receive
the
intimation
that
something
has
turned
up
.
I
may
have
mentioned
to
you
on
a
former
occasion
that
I
was
in
expectation
of
such
an
event
.
‘
I
am
about
to
establish
myself
in
one
of
the
provincial
towns
of
our
favoured
island
(
where
the
society
may
be
described
as
a
happy
admixture
of
the
agricultural
and
the
clerical
)
,
in
immediate
connexion
with
one
of
the
learned
professions
.
Mrs
.
Micawber
and
our
offspring
will
accompany
me
.
Our
ashes
,
at
a
future
period
,
will
probably
be
found
commingled
in
the
cemetery
attached
to
a
venerable
pile
,
for
which
the
spot
to
which
I
refer
has
acquired
a
reputation
,
shall
I
say
from
China
to
Peru
?
‘
In
bidding
adieu
to
the
modern
Babylon
,
where
we
have
undergone
many
vicissitudes
,
I
trust
not
ignobly
,
Mrs
.
Micawber
and
myself
cannot
disguise
from
our
minds
that
we
part
,
it
may
be
for
years
and
it
may
be
for
ever
,
with
an
individual
linked
by
strong
associations
to
the
altar
of
our
domestic
life
.
If
,
on
the
eve
of
such
a
departure
,
you
will
accompany
our
mutual
friend
,
Mr
.
Thomas
Traddles
,
to
our
present
abode
,
and
there
reciprocate
the
wishes
natural
to
the
occasion
,
you
will
confer
a
Boon
