david copperfield(大卫.科波维尔)-第33部分

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ever　be　married；　and　if　so；　to　what　sort　of　unhappy　man；　and　
counting　the　divisions　in　the　moulding　of　the　chimney…piece；　and　
wandering　away；　with　my　eyes；　to　the　ceiling；　among　the　curls　and　
corkscrews　in　the　paper　on　the　wall！　

What　walks　I　took　alone；　down　muddy　lanes；　in　the　bad　winter　
weather；　carrying　that　parlour；　and　Mr。　and　Miss　Murdstone　in　it；　
everywhere：　a　monstrous　load　that　I　was　obliged　to　bear；　a　
daymare　that　there　was　no　possibility　of　breaking　in；　a　weight　that　
brooded　on　my　wits；　and　blunted　them！　

What　meals　I　had　in　silence　and　embarrassment；　always　feeling　
that　there　were　a　knife　and　fork　too　many；　and　that　mine；　an　
appetite　too　many；　and　that　mine；　a　plate　and　chair　too　many；　and　
those　mine；　a　somebody　too　many；　and　that　I！　

What　evenings；　when　the　candles　came；　and　I　was　expected　to　
employ　myself；　but；　not　daring　to　read　an　entertaining　book；　pored　
over　some　hard…headed；　harder…hearted　treatise　on　arithmetic；　
when　the　tables　of　weights　and　measures　set　themselves　to　tunes；　
as　‘Rule　Britannia’；　or　‘Away　with　Melancholy’；　when　they　
wouldn’t　stand　still　to　be　learnt；　but　would　go　threading　my　

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David　Copperfield　

grandmother’s　needle　through　my　unfortunate　head；　in　at　one　ear　
and　out　at　the　other！　What　yawns　and　dozes　I　lapsed　into；　in　spite　
of　all　my　care；　what　starts　I　came　out　of　concealed　sleeps　with；　
what　answers　I　never　got；　to　little　observations　that　I　rarely　made；　
what　a　blank　space　I　seemed；　which　everybody　overlooked；　and　
yet　was　in　everybody’s　way；　what　a　heavy　relief　it　was　to　hear　Miss　
Murdstone　hail　the　first　stroke　of　nine　at　night；　and　order　me　to　
bed！　

Thus　the　holidays　lagged　away；　until　the　morning　came　when　
Miss　Murdstone　said：　‘Here’s　the　last　day　off！’　and　gave　me　the　
closing　cup　of　tea　of　the　vacation。　

I　was　not　sorry　to　go。　I　had　lapsed　into　a　stupid　state；　but　I　was　
recovering　a　little　and　looking　forward　to　Steerforth；　albeit　Mr。　
Creakle　loomed　behind　him。　Again　Mr。　Barkis　appeared　at　the　
gate；　and　again　Miss　Murdstone　in　her　warning　voice；　said：　‘Clara！’　
when　my　mother　bent　over　me；　to　bid　me　farewell。　

I　kissed　her；　and　my　baby　brother；　and　was　very　sorry　then；　but　
not　sorry　to　go　away；　for　the　gulf　between　us　was　there；　and　the　
parting　was　there；　every　day。　And　it　is　not　so　much　the　embrace　
she　gave　me；　that　lives　in　my　mind；　though　it　was　as　fervent　as　
could　be；　as　what　followed　the　embrace。　

I　was　in　the　carrier’s　cart　when　I　heard　her　calling　to　me。　I　
looked　out；　and　she　stood　at　the　garden…gate　alone；　holding　her　
baby　up　in　her　arms　for　me　to　see。　It　was　cold　still　weather；　and　
not　a　hair　of　her　head；　nor　a　fold　of　her　dress；　was　stirred；　as　she　
looked　intently　at　me；　holding　up　her　child。　

So　I　lost　her。　So　I　saw　her　afterwards；　in　my　sleep　at　school—a　
silent　presence　near　my　bed—looking　at　me　with　the　same　intent　
face—holding　up　her　baby　in　her　arms。　

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David　Copperfield　

Charles　Dickens　ElecBook　Classics　


David　Copperfield　

Chapter　9　

I　HAVE　A　MEMORABLE　BIRTHDAY　

Ipass　over　all　that　happened　at　school；　until　the　anniversary　of　
my　birthday　came　round　in　March。　Except　that　Steerforth　
was　more　to　be　admired　than　ever；　I　remember　nothing。　He　
was　going　away　at　the　end　of　the　half…year；　if　not　sooner；　and　was　
more　spirited　and　independent　than　before　in　my　eyes；　and　
therefore　more　engaging　than　before；　but　beyond　this　I　remember　
nothing。　The　great　remembrance　by　which　that　time　is　marked　in　
my　mind；　seems　to　have　swallowed　up　all　lesser　recollections；　and　
to　exist　alone。　

It　is　even　difficult　for　me　to　believe　that　there　was　a　gap　of　full　
two　months　between　my　return　to　Salem　House　and　the　arrival　of　
that　birthday。　I　can　only　understand　that　the　fact　was　so；　because　I　
know　it　must　have　been　so；　otherwise　I　should　feel　convinced　that　
there　was　no　interval；　and　that　the　one　occasion　trod　upon　the　
other’s　heels。　

How　well　I　recollect　the　kind　of　day　it　was！　I　smell　the　fog　that　
hung　about　the　place；　I　see　the　hoar　frost；　ghostly；　through　it；　I　feel　
my　rimy　hair　fall　clammy　on　my　cheek；　I　look　along　the　dim　
perspective　of　the　schoolroom；　with　a　sputtering　candle　here　and　
there　to　light　up　the　foggy　morning；　and　the　breath　of　the　boys　
wreathing　and　smoking　in　the　raw　cold　as　they　blow　upon　their　
fingers；　and　tap　their　feet　upon　the　floor。　It　was　after　breakfast；　
and　we　had　been　summoned　in　from　the　playground；　when　Mr。　
Sharp　entered　and　said：　

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David　Copperfield　

‘David　Copperfield　is　to　go　into　the　parlour。’　

I　expected　a　hamper　from　Peggotty；　and　brightened　at　the　
order。　Some　of　the　boys　about　me　put　in　their　claim　not　to　be　
forgotten　in　the　distribution　of　the　good　things；　as　I　got　out　of　my　
seat　with　great　alacrity。　

‘Don’t　hurry；　David；’　said　Mr。　Sharp。　‘There’s　time　enough；　my　
boy；　don’t　hurry。’　

I　might　have　been　surprised　by　the　feeling　tone　in　which　he　
spoke；　if　I　had　given　it　a　thought；　but　I　gave　it　none　until　
afterwards。　I　hurried　away　to　the　parlour；　and　there　I　found　Mr。　
Creakle；　sitting　at　his　breakfast　with　the　cane　and　a　newspaper　
before　him；　and　Mrs。　Creakle　with　an　opened　letter　in　her　hand。　
But　no　hamper。　

‘David　Copperfield；’　said　Mrs。　Creakle；　leading　me　to　a　sofa；　and　
sitting　down　beside　me。　‘I　want　to　speak　to　you　very　particularly。　I　
have　something　to　tell　you；　my　child。’　

Mr。　Creakle；　at　whom　of　course　I　looked；　shook　his　head　
without　looking　at　me；　and　stopped　up　a　sigh　with　a　very　large　
piece　of　buttered　toast。　

‘You　are　too　young　to　know　how　the　world　changes　every　day；’　
said　Mrs。　Creakle；　‘and　how　the　people　in　it　pass　away。　But　we　all　
have　to　learn　it；　David；　some　of　us　when　we　are　young；　some　of　us　
when　we　are　old；　some　of　us　at　all　times　of　our　lives。’　

I　looked　at　her　earnestly。　

‘When　you　came　away　from　home　at　the　end　of　the　vacation；’　
said　Mrs。　Creakle；　after　a　pause；　‘were　they　all　well？’　After　another　
pause；　‘Was　your　mama　well？’　

I　trembled　without　distinctly　knowing　why；　and　still　looked　at　
her　earnestly；　making　no　attempt　to　answer。　

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David　Copperfield　

‘Because；’　said　she；　‘I　grieve　to　tell　you　that　I　hear　this　morning　
your　mama　is　very　ill。’　

A　mist　rose　between　Mrs。　Creakle　and　me；　and　her　figure　
seemed　to　move　in　it　for　an　instant。　Then　I　felt　the　burning　tears　
run　down　my　face；　and　it　was　steady　again。　

‘She　is　very　dangerously　ill；’　she　added。　

I　knew　all　now。　

‘She　is　dead。’　

There　was　no　need　to　tell　me　so。　I　had　already　broken　out　into　a　
desolate　cry；　and　felt　an　orphan　in　the　wide　world。　

She　was　very　kind　to　me。　She　kept　me　there　all　day；　and　left　me　
alone　sometimes；　and　I　cried；　and　wore　myself　to　sleep；　and　awoke　
and　cried　again。　When　I　could　cry　no　more；　I　began　to　think；　and　
then　the　oppression　on　my　breast　was　heaviest；　and　my　grief　a　dull　
pain　that　there　was　no　ease　for。　

And　yet　my　thoughts　were　idle；　not　intent　on　the　calamity　that　
weighed　upon　my　heart；　but　idly　loitering　near　it。　I　thought　of　our　
house　shut　up　and　hushed。　I　thought　of　the　little　baby；　who；　Mrs。　
Creakle　said；　had　been　pining　away　for　some　time；　and　who；　they　
believed；　would　die　too。　I　thought　of　my　father’s　grave　in　the　
churchyard；　by　our　house；　and　of　my　mother　lying　there　beneath　
the　tree　I　knew　so　well。　I　stood　upon　a　chair　when　I　was　left　alone；　
and　looked　into　the　glass　to　see　how　red　my　eyes　were；　and　how　
sorrowful　my　face。　I　considered；　after　some　hours　were　gone；　if　my　
tears　were　really　hard　to　flow　now；　as　they　seemed　to　be；　what；　in　
connexion　with　my　loss；　it　would　affect　me　most　to　think　of　when　I　
drew　near　home—for　I　was　going　home　to　the　funeral。　I　am　
sensible　of　having　felt　that　a　dignity　attached　to　me　among　the　rest　
of　the　boys；　and　that　I　was　important　in　my　affliction。　

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David　Copperfield　

If　ever　child　were　stricken　with　sincere　grief；　I　was。　But　I　
remember　that　this　importance　was　a　kind　of　satisfaction　to　me；　
when　I　walked　in　the　playground　that　afternoon　while　the　boys　
were　in　school。　When　I　saw　them　glancing　at　me　out　of　the　
windows；　as　they　went　up　to　their　classes；　I　felt　distinguished；　and　
looked　more　melancholy；　and　walked　slower。　When　school　was　
over；　and　they　came　out　and　spoke　to　me；　I　felt　it　rather　good　in　
myself　not　to　be　proud　to　any　of　them；　and　to　take　exactly　the　
same　notice　of　them　all；　as　before。　

I　was　to　go　home　next　night；　not　by　the　mail；　but　by　the　heavy　
night…coach；　which　was　called　the　Farmer；　and　was　principally　
used　by　country…people　travelling　short　intermediate　distances　
upon　the　road。　We　had　no　story…telling　that　evening；　and　Traddles　
insisted　on　lending　me　his　pillow。　I　don’t　know　what　good　he　
thought　it　would　do　me；　for　I　had　one　of　my　own：　but　it　was　all　he　
had　to　lend；　poor　fellow；　except　a　sheet　of　letter…paper　full　of　
skeletons；　and　that　he　gave　me　at　parting；　as　a　soother　of　my　
sorrows　and　a　contribution　to　my　pe