David Copperfield

Chapter 51 Little Emily (1)
Chapter 21 Little Emily (1)
There was a servant in the Steerforth family who, as far as I know, was always with Steerforth, and who was employed by him at the University.The servant was a model in respectable appearance.I think there is no one more decent than him for a person of his stature.He is taciturn, light on his feet, has a tame and careful demeanor, is always by his side when he needs it, and stays away when he doesn't need it.But the most striking thing about him is his proper attitude, he has no soft face, straight neck, neat and smooth head (with short hair on both sides), soft and soft voice, like to say the sound of S so clearly, As if he used the letter more than anyone else, he made all the features decent.If his nose had grown backwards, he would have made it respectable.He surrounds himself with an atmosphere of decency that never leaves him.He was so presentable from head to toe that it was impossible to suspect that there was something wrong with him.He was so respectable that it was impossible for him to wear a servant's livery.To ask him to do anything disrespectful is like insulting the most respectable man.I saw how well the maids at home knew it, and they always did those things themselves, while he was at his ease doing his own thing.

I never saw such a silent man, but this character, like all his others, completed him.Even the fact that no one knew his name seemed to be a cause of his dignity.Everyone knew that his surname was Li Timo, but there was nothing wrong with this surname.Everyone thought that Peter could be hanged, Tom could be exiled, but Lytimus was so decent.

I think maybe because of the abstract decent nature, it made me feel even more inferior in front of this person.I couldn't guess his age--and that added to his value; for in the serenity of his dignity he could have been fifty or thirty.

In the morning, before I got up, Ritimo came into my room, brought the hateful shaving lotion, and arranged my clothes.When I drew back the curtains of the bed, I saw his calm and steady dignity, like a balanced temperature, unaffected by the cold wind, and even his breath was not white.He decently put my shoes away like a dance start, put my clothes away like a baby, and dusted my blouse.

I said good morning to him, and asked him what time it was. He took out a double-covered watch that I had never seen before, pressed the case with his thumb, and kept it from opening too much, as if asking God for divination. I looked inside, closed it and said, "Sorry, it's 08:30."

"Mr Steerforth would like to know if you have slept well, sir."

"Thank you," I said, "for a good sleep, and Mr Steerforth?"

"Thank you, sir. Mr. Steerforth slept well." Another characteristic of this person is that he doesn't use too high-level adjectives, and he is always a calm middle-level adjective.

"Anything else to order me, sir? Breakfast at 09:30, and the preparation bell at nine."

"No, thank you."

"I thank you, sir." He bowed his head slightly as he finished walking by the bed, as if apologizing for his correcting me, and then he walked out, closing the door softly, as if I had just been in a life-and-death sleep same as in.

The two of us have the same conversation every morning, never a word more, never a word less.But no matter how much I've been elevated by Steerforth's care, Mrs Steerforth's approval, or my conversation with Miss Dartle, or how much I've matured, in the presence of this most respectable Became "a child".

He prepared our horses, and the Almighty Steerforth taught me horsemanship; he prepared our swords, and Steerforth taught me fencing; he prepared my gloves, and I learned boxing from the same teacher.Steerforth thought I was a novice in these matters, and I didn't care, but it was hard for me to make a fool of myself in front of the respectable Lytimus.I don't think Lytimus was in any of these ways; the quivering of his respectable eyelashes didn't make me think he was in any of them; people.

I have described this cumbersome description of this man partly because he had a peculiar influence on me, and partly because of what happened afterwards.

It was a pleasant week.And for someone like me who lives on a cloud, that week flies by.But during that week I had the opportunity to know Steerforth so deeply that I admired him all the more, and I felt that by the end of the week I had lived more than just one week.The way he treats me like a plaything suits me better than anything else he can do.

This way reminds me of our late friendship as if it were a natural extension of it; Lessened my unease when weighing his camaraderie.More importantly, it's an intimate, uninhibited, warm way that he doesn't have with anyone else.Since he treats me differently at school, I also believe that he treats me differently in the world outside of school.I think I'm his closest friend.

At last we decided to go to the country, and the day came when we set off.At first, he hesitated whether to take Li Timo, but later he decided to keep him.That respectable man, ever content with the status quo, put our trunks in our pony-carriage to London with such care that they seemed to be subject to lifetimes of jostling and shaking.Then he quietly accepted my small reward.

We bid farewell to Mrs Steerforth and Miss Dartle, with great gratitude on my part, and a great deal of kindness on the mother's part.The last thing I saw was Ritimo's quiet eyes, and I guess he must have been convinced of how naive I was.

I don't want to describe my feelings about returning so smoothly to the old familiar places.We traveled by mail coach, and I remember how much I cherished the reputation of Yarmouth, so that as we drove through the dark streets to the inn, I heard Steerforth say that the place was a curious and interesting backwater. Hole, I feel very happy.We went to bed as soon as we got to the inn (I saw a dirty pair of shoes and shoe covers as we passed the door of the "Dolphin").The next morning, breakfast was late.Steerforth, in good spirits, walked the beach before I got up, and said he already knew half the local boatmen.Besides, he saw in the distance a house which, as he had expected, was Mr. Peggotty's, with smoke still rising from its chimney.He also said that he really wanted to go there and shout out to them that he knew me and that I looked like they didn't even know me anymore.

"When shall we go, Daisy?" he said. "I'm all at your disposal. Do as you please!"

"Oh, I think it would be best to-night when they are sitting round the fire, and I would like you to see it when you are at ease. It is a very wonderful place."

"Go to-night, then!" said Steerforth.

"I didn't tell them we were here beforehand, you know," I said cheerfully. "We should surprise them there by getting there."

"Of course, if it's not unexpected, it's not interesting," said Steerforth. "Let me see the natives."

"They're just the bunch you're referring to," I took over.

"Ha! You're still thinking about my argument with Rosa, aren't you?" He gave me a wary look. "That damned girl, I'm kind of afraid of her, I think she's like a banshee , but leave her alone. What are you going to do now, I guess you want to see your old nanny?"

"Yes," I said, "I do think so."

"Well," said Steerforth, looking at his watch, "suppose I put you into her hands, and let her hold you and cry for two hours, will that be enough?"

I laughed and said I reckon we could have cried enough in two hours; but he had to go too, for his reputation was spreading like wildfire, and he was almost as big a man as I was up.

"I'll go where you like," said Steerforth. "I'll do what you want me to do. Just tell me where to go, and then I'll go where you want, all right." Bar."

I gave him the method of finding the address of Mr. Barkis (biker to and from Brandstone and other places) carefully.Under this agreement, I went out alone.At that time the air was fresh, the land was dry, the sea was clear and bright, the sun was not warm, but it was shining brightly, and everything was new and alive, so I felt that I really wanted to block the people on the street and talk to them .

Naturally the streets look narrow, and the streets I have seen only as a child always seem narrow when I go back.But on the street, I am familiar with it. When I came to Mr. Omer's shop, everything was still the same.Where it used to say "Omer", it is now changed to "Omer-Yoran"; but the words "draper, tailor, dresser, funeral goods" and so on remain the same.

After seeing these words across the street, I unconsciously wanted to go to Omer's shop, so I crossed the street to the door of the shop and looked inside.At the back of the shop a good-looking woman was holding a child, and an older child was holding onto her apron.It was not difficult to see that it was Minnie and her child.The glass door in the living room is not fully opened, but I can still hear the old tune from the yard, as if the sound has never stopped.

"Is Mr. Omer there?" I entered the shop and asked.

"Oh, sir, he's at home," said Minnie, "but the weather outside is not fit for his asthma. Call your grandpa, Joe!"

The little guy holding his mother's apron uttered so loudly that he was ashamed himself, and then, with her approval, hid his face in her skirt.Then I heard a panting sound, and soon Mr. Omer was in front of me, he was more panting than before, but he didn't look old.

"Sir," said Mr. Omer, "what do you want?"

"If you don't mind, Mr. Omer, I would like to shake your hand," I said, extending my hand. "You have been very kind to me, and I am afraid I did not show it then."

"Really?" the old man went on, "I'd love you to say that, but I don't remember when, but you must know me, don't you?"

"good,"

"I'm old," Mr. Omer said, looking at me and shaking his head, "I don't remember you."

"Do you remember the time when you met me at the coaching station yourself, and I had breakfast here, and we (you, me, Mrs. Yoran, and Mr. Yoran) went to Blandstone again?"

"Oh, dear!" said Mr. Omer, startled, and coughing, "yes? Minnie, my dear, you won't forget, will you? Yes, yes--it was a lady's funeral, yes?"

"That's my mother," I answered him.

"N-wrong," said Mr. Omer, running his finger over my vest, "yes, since then, how have you been?"

I said I was fine, thanked him, and wished him well.

"Well, there's nothing to complain about," said Mr. Omer, "but it's best to be old and work hard, and let it be, and that's the best thing, isn't it?"

Mr. Omer, coughing again from the laughter, stood beside him, teasing the daughter of the youngest child on the counter to calm him down.

"That's right," said Mr. Omer. "It was on that trip, if I remember correctly, that Minnie and Yoran made a good date. 'You make a date, father,' said Yoram. , 'That's right, we must fix the date.' You see he has become the owner of the shop too. Look here, this is the youngest of them!"

Minnie smiled as her father thrust a finger into the hand of the child she was teasing, while she pushed back her headband-tied hair.

"Yes!" Mr. Omer continued, nodding his head again. "Yes, Yoran was making a coffin with silver nails, which was bigger than the size of-" the child dancing on the counter-" That's a lot. Would you like something to eat?"

I thanked him, but declined his kindness.

"Let me see," went on Mr. Omer, "that Mrs. Baggis the Bicycleman—the boatman's sister—had any connection with your family? She was there, wasn't she?"

My answer in the affirmative satisfied him.

"I think my asthma will get better," said Mr. Omer, "because my memory is better, sir, and we have a relative of their family here to help us, and she's a dressmaker, and she's very handy,— —I dare say that I don't believe there is a Duchess in England who can compare with her."

"Not little Em'ly?" I cried involuntarily.

"Her name is exactly Emily," said Mr. Omer. "She's very small, but, if you believe me, she has a face that would make half the women in this town mad with envy."

"Nonsense, father!" cried Minnie.

"My darling," said Mr. Omer, "except you," he said, with a wink at me, "I'm just saying that half the women in Yarmouth—ah! for miles around—would treat her Very jealous."

(End of this chapter)