David Copperfield

Chapter 41 A person appeared (1)
Chapter No.17 A Person Appears (1)
After fleeing, Peggotty was never remembered.However, as soon as Dou Foo was in shelter, I wrote a letter to her almost immediately; and when I was sent to Dr. Strong's school, I wrote her another letter detailing my happy life and bright future.In this letter I put half a guinea in an envelope from the money Mr. Dick had given me, and sent it to her, paying off the money I owed her earlier.That joy is something I've never had before.Until then, I mentioned for the first time the young man driving the donkey cart.

To these letters Peggotty responded swiftly, though not briefly.It took her a lot of effort to express her feelings about my long journey in pen and ink, although her expressive ability in ink is not very strong.There were as many as four pages of uncoordinated exclamation sentences. These sentences did not end in some places, but they did not affect her hearty expression.Still, the unclear points excite me more than the best sentences, for they tell me that Peggotty wrote without ceasing to cry, and what more could I desire?

Without much difficulty, I could see from the lines in her letter that she still did not know my aunt very well.Her attitude towards her aunt has long been fixed, and it is impossible to change her inherent views because of my one-sided words.She writes that we can never see a person clearly.But it is a strange thing to think that Miss Bessie should be so different from what everyone thinks!—that was her word.It was evident that she was still afraid of Miss Bessie, for she only greeted her timidly; and she was also very worried about me, that I should soon run away again, for she had signaled more than once that she would have my money ready for Yarmouth.

She told me the sad news that our old home had been sold once furnished, Mr. and Miss Murdstone had gone, the house was locked up, rented or sold.God knows I had nothing to do with Murdstone and the others while they were there.But it made me sad to think that my dear old house was abandoned, that the garden was overgrown with weeds, and that the paths were thick with wet leaves.I was thinking how the cold winter wind howled around them, how the cold rain beat on the window panes...

There is no other news in Peggotty's letter.Mr. Barkis was a good husband, she said, but still a bit mean; but we all have faults, and she has plenty (though, I'll be honest, I don't know what that is); A small room was prepared for me.Mr. Peggotty was very well, and so was Ham, and Mrs. Gummidge was as well. Little Em'ly would not write a greeting, but she said she would not object to having Peggotty do it, if she pleased.

I told my aunt the whole story, except that little Emily was not mentioned, and I felt instinctively that my aunt hated little Emily.She came to see me from Canterbury several times during my early days at Dr. Strong's school, but always at unexpected times--I suppose she only came by surprise to examine me.However, she found that I was not wasting my time, that I was diligent, that I was of good character, and that I was making good progress at school from all sources, and she soon ceased to visit me.Every three or four weeks I see her on a Saturday when I sometimes go to Dove for a holiday, and every two weeks I see Mr Dick on a Wednesday when he hitchhikes here at noon and stays till the next day morning.

Mr. Dick always carried a leather writing-case in which he kept some papers or something; and about that paper he now had the idea that now that time was running short, the papers should be dropped.

Mr. Dick was very fond of gingerbread.In order to further satisfy his personal greetings, my aunt ordered me to set up for him a credit book in a pastry shop, and to limit him to any credit of more than a shilling's value in any one day.In addition, all his expenses for staying in hotels must be handed over to his aunt for review before payment is made.Therefore, I suspect that my aunt only allows him to spend his money, but does not allow him to use it.Further observation confirmed my suspicions, or at least he had an agreement with my aunt that he had to report all expense accounts to my aunt.He had no intention of cheating on my aunt, and always tried to please her, so he was careful with his money.On this, as on other points, Mr. Dick thought my aunt was the most remarkable woman; he kept telling me in secret.

"Trouud," he said one Wednesday, after telling me this secret, with a sort of mystical air, "do you know who that man was hiding near our house to terrorize her?"

"Who dares to threaten my aunt?"

Mr. Dick nodded. "I don't think there's anything to frighten her," he said, "because she's—" Then he whispered softly, "You don't have to say—she's the most wonderful woman." Having said that, he I drew back to see the effect of his remarks on me.

"When he first came," said Mr. Dick, "it was--let me see--640 was the year when King Charles I was killed. You said [-], I think. !"

"Yes, Mr. Dick."

"I don't see how it's possible," said Mr. Dick, shaking his head strangely. "I don't think I'm that old."

"Did the man show up that year, Mr. Dick?" I asked.

"Oh, really," said Mr. Dick, "I don't see how it happened then, Trowood. Did you really check?"

"Yes, Mr. Dick."

"History doesn't lie, does it?" said Mr. Dick hopefully.

"Oh, no, Mr. Dick," I answered with complete certainty.I was naive and young, so I was sure of it.

"Well," said Mr. Dick, shaking his head, "something went wrong. But the man made his first appearance after mistakenly putting some of the problems in King Charles's head into mine. He was near our house at the time."

"Walking around there?" I asked.

"Walking around there?" said Mr. Dick. "Let me see, I must. No--no, he doesn't walk around."

I asked him what he was doing.

"Oh, I didn't see where he was before he came close to her and whispered. Suddenly Miss Trowood turned around and fainted. And I stood there looking at him, and he went away; But it is a strange thing that he has been hidden (in the ground or something) since then!"

"Has he been hiding since then?" I asked.

"That's right," said Mr. Dick, nodding solemnly. "Never been here before last night! When we were walking last night, he reappeared, and I recognized him immediately."

"Is he threatening my aunt again?"

"Shaking all over," said Mr. Dick, imitating that, gnashing his teeth, "holding the railing, she wept. But, Trowood," he approached me to whisper softly, "what did she do in Moonlight?" How about giving him money?"

"Perhaps he is a beggar."

Mr. Dick shook his head in total disapproval, and answered many times in succession, "No, my brother!" money, and then he slinked away—hid it underground again, he thought—disappeared.My aunt came home hurriedly and quietly, and till the next morning was so different from her former self that Mr. Dick was worried about her.

At the beginning of the story, I did not believe it, but thought that the stranger was Mr. Dick's imagination, and belonged to the kind of the unfortunate king who gave him so many difficulties.But after thinking about it, I wondered if there might have been an attempt, or a threat, to take poor Dick a second time from my aunt's protection, and whether my aunt (I from her own known there) was persuaded to pay the price for his safety.As I was already on good terms with Mr. Dick, and interested in his welfare, my apprehension was naturally reinforced.For a long time, almost every time Wednesday came, I was anxious that he would not come.However, the gray-haired him always appeared there with a smile and a happy face.He never told me anything more about the man who could frighten my aunt.

Wednesdays were the happiest days of Mr. Dick's life, and they gave me no less joy.Before long every boy in the school was acquainted with him, and though he took no part in any games except kite-flying, he showed as much interest in all our sports as we all did.There are many times when I saw him concentrating on watching a game of stone balls or tops, with indescribable interest on his face, and he hardly dared to vent his anger at critical moments! Many times, in the game of dogs chasing rabbits, he saw Standing on a knoll, cheering the crowd on, waving his hat over a patch of pale hair, forgetting King Charles' head, and all that! How many times in the summer, seen on the cricket ground, That was his happiest time! In winter, he saw his nose turn purple from the cold, standing in the icy wind, watching the students slide on the ice track, and happily clapping his woolen gloves.

He was a popular figure, and his skill with gadgets was unmatched.He can carve things out of oranges that we can't think of.He could make a boat out of a string of needles or anything; he could make chessmen out of mutton knee bones; out of old cards he could make models of Roman chariots; out of old wire he could make birdcages.In particular, it makes various items out of thread and grass.From these things, we all firmly believe that everything that can be made with hands, he can do.

Mr. Dick's reputation among the pupils was naturally enduring.And after a few Wednesdays, Dr. Strong himself asked me about him, and I told him all that my aunt had told me.The Doctor showed great interest in what I had to say, and asked me, on his next visit, to introduce them.I did so, and the Doctor begged Mr. Dick to come and rest with him anytime he couldn't find me at the box office until our morning classes were over.Mr. Dick soon got used to going to him.If our Wednesday homework is late (as we often do on Wednesdays), he will walk around the yard a few times and wait for me.Here he made the acquaintance of the Doctor's beautiful young wife (she has been paler lately than ever, and I think I have seen her less than others; she is not very happy, but still very beautiful).So he became more and more familiar with it, and later he simply entered the classroom and waited for me.He was always in a certain corner first, on a certain stool, so that stool was called "Dick".He sat there, poking his white head forward, listening carefully to the homework in progress (he might not understand it well), and had deep admiration for the knowledge he couldn't get.

Mr. Dick extended the adoration to Ph. D.s, who he considered to be the most thoughtful and accomplished philosophers of any age.After a long time, Mr. Dick insisted on taking off his hat as he spoke to him.Even when he and the Doctor were good friends and walked together on what schoolchildren called "Doctor's Road," Mr. Dick did so, in homage to wisdom.I don't know when, when the doctor was taking a walk, he began to read fragments of the famous dictionary.Perhaps, at first he read it as if it were to himself.However, it has also become a practice.And Mr. Dick, always with a smug face and a look of joy, listened attentively, believing in his heart that the dictionary was the most interesting book in the world.

(End of this chapter)