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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 52/820
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‘
Now
,
Clara
,
’
says
Mr
.
Murdstone
,
‘
be
firm
with
the
boy
.
Don
’
t
say
,
“
Oh
,
Davy
,
Davy
!
”
That
’
s
childish
.
He
knows
his
lesson
,
or
he
does
not
know
it
.
’
‘
He
does
NOT
know
it
,
’
Miss
Murdstone
interposes
awfully
.
‘
I
am
really
afraid
he
does
not
,
’
says
my
mother
.
‘
Then
,
you
see
,
Clara
,
’
returns
Miss
Murdstone
,
‘
you
should
just
give
him
the
book
back
,
and
make
him
know
it
.
’
‘
Yes
,
certainly
,
’
says
my
mother
;
‘
that
is
what
I
intend
to
do
,
my
dear
Jane
.
Now
,
Davy
,
try
once
more
,
and
don
’
t
be
stupid
.
’
I
obey
the
first
clause
of
the
injunction
by
trying
once
more
,
but
am
not
so
successful
with
the
second
,
for
I
am
very
stupid
.
I
tumble
down
before
I
get
to
the
old
place
,
at
a
point
where
I
was
all
right
before
,
and
stop
to
think
.
But
I
can
’
t
think
about
the
lesson
.
I
think
of
the
number
of
yards
of
net
in
Miss
Murdstone
’
s
cap
,
or
of
the
price
of
Mr
.
Murdstone
’
s
dressing
-
gown
,
or
any
such
ridiculous
problem
that
I
have
no
business
with
,
and
don
’
t
want
to
have
anything
at
all
to
do
with
.
Mr
.
Murdstone
makes
a
movement
of
impatience
which
I
have
been
expecting
for
a
long
time
.
Miss
Murdstone
does
the
same
.
My
mother
glances
submissively
at
them
,
shuts
the
book
,
and
lays
it
by
as
an
arrear
to
be
worked
out
when
my
other
tasks
are
done
.
There
is
a
pile
of
these
arrears
very
soon
,
and
it
swells
like
a
rolling
snowball
.
The
bigger
it
gets
,
the
more
stupid
I
get
.
The
case
is
so
hopeless
,
and
I
feel
that
I
am
wallowing
in
such
a
bog
of
nonsense
,
that
I
give
up
all
idea
of
getting
out
,
and
abandon
myself
to
my
fate
.
The
despairing
way
in
which
my
mother
and
I
look
at
each
other
,
as
I
blunder
on
,
is
truly
melancholy
.
But
the
greatest
effect
in
these
miserable
lessons
is
when
my
mother
(
thinking
nobody
is
observing
her
)
tries
to
give
me
the
cue
by
the
motion
of
her
lips
.
At
that
instant
,
Miss
Murdstone
,
who
has
been
lying
in
wait
for
nothing
else
all
along
,
says
in
a
deep
warning
voice
:
‘
Clara
!
’
My
mother
starts
,
colours
,
and
smiles
faintly
.
Mr
.
Murdstone
comes
out
of
his
chair
,
takes
the
book
,
throws
it
at
me
or
boxes
my
ears
with
it
,
and
turns
me
out
of
the
room
by
the
shoulders
.
