David Copperfield

Chapter 69 Mr. Micawber's Challenge (1)
Chapter 28 Mr. Micawber's Challenge (1)
Before I entertained my long-lost friends, I lived mainly on Dora and coffee.In my unrequited mood, my appetite was waning, but I was excited about it, because I felt that if my appetite was the same as it was, it would show that I was unfeeling and unfaithful to Dora .The thing I do most is to walk, but this has not produced the results I expected, and long-term practical experience has also caused me to have a doubt.It seems to me that if a man wears skinny boots all the time so that he is tortured like this, it is very questionable whether he can really be as free as a normal person even if he eats fish.In my opinion, only when the limbs are comfortable and free, the appetite will be better and there will be appetite.

I did not make the usual preparations for a big feast as host this time, and all I had prepared were two halibuts, a small leg of lamb, and a pigeon steak.But about cooking, as soon as I mentioned it to Mrs. Crupp, her face changed drastically, and she "defended" me with the angry attitude of a victim: "Sir, you can't do this, ask me to do this kind of work You know my character well, but I will not do anything I am not fully willing to do." But in the end we reached an agreement: Mrs. Crupp accepted the important task, and I Volunteer to eat out for the next two weeks.

I must complain of Mrs. Crupp's domineeringness, and my sufferings under her authority still haunt me.I have never been as afraid of others as I am afraid of her, as if she is the master, and everything depends on her face.If I accidentally touch her, then her chilling problem will kick in.This disease of hers can lie in ambush anywhere on her body, and it can explode in an instant.If I yank the bell six times and there is no response, and after I yank hard for the seventh time, she finally appears-this is not absolute, sitting on the buttocks out of breath. Sitting on the chair by the door, clutching his chest with his hands, he became very ill all of a sudden.So I'd have to sacrifice my brandy or something and send her back to be done.If I objected even slightly to having my bed made at five o'clock in the afternoon—and until now, I thought it was too inconvenient to make my bed at five o'clock in the afternoon—she would "hurt the pain" on her chest. ", and I have to apologize to her immediately, or her old problem will start again.Basically, I can do anything that doesn't hurt decency, except for Mrs. Crupp, whom I dare not offend in the slightest, because she does scare me to death sometimes.

I also bought a semi-new portable table this time for entertaining guests, which I thought was much better than hiring the chap who did some chores, because I ran into him one day on the beach street, and he Wearing a vest that closely resembles one of mine that has been missing since the treat, I have developed a prejudice against him.The little girl was invited again, but she could only bring in the big plate of vegetables, and then she had to retreat to the stairs outside the door.Because only in this way, her problem of probing her head and liking to listen to other people's speech will not be clearly felt by the guests.

I have ready a large pot of liquor, to be blended by Mr. Micawper; Mrs. Micawber was in her dressing; and I lighted the fire in the bedroom, also for Mrs. Micawber's sake; and spread the table-cloth.I prepared everything I could think of, and then quietly waited for the visit of the guests.

When the time came, the three guests arrived one after another.Mr. Micawber's shirt-collar was a little higher than usual, and his one-legged monocular was fastened with a new ribbon; Mrs. Micawber wrapped her cap in blindingly white brown paper. Traddles had a bag in one hand, and Mrs. Micawber on the other.They took a look at my apartment and were full of praise.When I led Mrs. Micawber to the dressing table, she was so excited when she saw all the items, that she even called Mr. Micawber in to admire them.

"My dear Copperfield," said Mr. Micawber, "it is such a luxury, and it reminds me of the time when I was a bachelor, and Mrs. Micawber had not been begged for, and had Before the old god, I vowed to last forever."

"He meant that it was his pleading to others, Mr. Copperfield," said Mrs. Micawber slyly, "that it was his fault, and he couldn't put the blame on anyone else."

"Oh, my dear," said Mr. Micawber, suddenly serious, "I do not mean to shirk responsibility. I know very well that you are at the will of the mysterious and unpredictable Fate, and that all this is In order to wait for me, it is likely that you are waiting for a doomed, long-struggled, suffering person who is finally caught up in a series of financial entanglements. I know what you are really trying to say, dear. I am Sorry for your insinuations, but I can bear with it."

"Micawber!" cried Mrs. Micawber, bursting into tears, to Micawber. "Is this what you say for me? Never have a plan of not being with you, Micawber, how can you say such things to me!"

"My darling," said Mr. Micawber, becoming suddenly agitated, "forgive me, a broken man! I am sure our old and tried friend Copperfield will forgive me too. This sad man. All I have to say is a burst of traumatic pain from a heartbroken man being bullied by a bullying lackey, to put it simply. I feel hurt because of the scene—that’s why I exploded this temper, you shouldn’t scold and blame me, you should sympathize with me.”

So Micawber first hugged Mrs. Micawber tightly, and shook hands with me vigorously.From the meaning revealed in his few words, I can guess that it must be that afternoon, the water company cut off his tap water because he did not pay the water bill when it was due.

Wanting to divert the subject, and divert his thoughts from this unpleasant business, I said to Mr. Micawber that he was the only one to have the pot of wine to-night, and led him to the Where the lemon was placed, his disappointed look disappeared immediately.I never saw anyone enjoying himself so much as Mr. Micawber that afternoon.In the aroma of lemon peel, in the sweetness of sugar, in the mellow taste of boiling rum, in the mist of boiling water, dry with relish.I saw his face light up, looking at us through such a fragrant mist, while stirring and stirring and tasting, as if he was not there mixing a pot of wine, but making a fortune for the whole family Inexhaustible wealth.As for Mrs. Micawber, I don't know whether it was the bonnet, or the peppermint perfume, or the fire, or the beeswax candle, but she came out of my bedroom looking much neater and better looking.

I guess—I never venture to ask, I can only guess—that Mrs. Crupp must have had a relapse after frying the halibut.Because after eating the fish, there was a problem with the meal.When the leg of lamb arrived, it was undercooked on the inside and burnt on the outside.Besides that, it was sprinkled with something disgusting to eat, as if it had fallen into the ashes.But we can't judge the situation from the appearance of the broth, because the little girl spilled it on the stairs.The pigeon steak was ok, but it was the name of the steak, the outer skin was full of lumps, but there was nothing inside.All in all, the banquet was a complete disappointment.I should have been very melancholy had it not been for the good spirits of my guests, and Mr. Micawber's now and then a wise opinion, which soothed my nervous nerves a little.

"My dear friend, Copperfield," said Mr. Micawber, "little frictions do arise in even the best of families. A home is not filled with an influence, an influence, which makes Sacred—in short, if there is no female influence, as a housewife, and the management of a household in a noble position, accidents may be said to be very likely, and should be endured in an optimistic way. If you will allow me to venture further There are some more edible parts here, I believe, with a little division of labor, and if the young man on the errand can bring a barbecue grill, we can have very good results, I dare you Guaranteed, this little accident is easily made up for."

There is a barbecue grill in the pantry that I use to roast bacon every morning.We took it out at once, and immediately thereafter all set to work to carry out Mr. Micawber's suggestion.The collaboration he speaks of is this: Traddles slices the mutton; Under the guidance of Mr., put the prepared meat slices on the rack one by one, turn it with a fork, and take it off; Mrs. Micawber cooks it in a small soup pot, stirring it from time to time and adding some mushroom juice.We grilled and ate; watching the slices on the plate and the slices steaming over the fire.

Because this cooking method is novel and the cooking taste is delicious, everyone gets lively all of a sudden, sometimes they get up to grill, and sometimes they sit down to eat. The delicious meat slices are hot and hot when they are taken off the rack.And so, amidst the noise and deliciousness, we ate that leg of lamb down to the bone.My own appetite actually came back.For a moment I forgot about Dora.It sufficed to my satisfaction that Mr. and Mrs. Micawber would have been happier if they had sold their rugs to prepare this party.Traddles ate and cooked, and laughed almost incessantly; in fact, we all did, laughing at the same time.I dare say there was never such a good banquet.

When we were rejoicing, when various departments were busy roasting the last batch of meat slices to the most delicious, I saw a stranger appeared in the room, looked up, and saw the calm and steady Li Timo, took off his hat Put it in your hand and stand in front of me.

"What's wrong?" I asked involuntarily.

"I beg your pardon, sir, but they told me to keep coming in. Isn't our master here, sir?"

"No."

"Have you not seen him, sir?"

"No, didn't you come from him?"

"Not from him, sir."

"Did he tell you to come here and find him?"

"Not quite, sir. But I think, if he's not here today, he might be here tomorrow."

"Is he from Oxford?"

"Sir," he said respectfully, "please sit down and let me do this." He took the fork from my defenseless hand, and stooped to sear the meat as if he All the energy is focused on that.

If Steerforth had been present in person, we would not have been very disturbed, I suppose, but in the presence of his respectable page we were suddenly the lowest of humility.Mr. Micawber hummed a little tune, and with an air of complete self-sufficiency, stretched out a concealed fork handle from his bosom, as if he had stabbed himself.Mrs. Micawber put on her brown gloves, and assumed a refined and languid air of gentlemen.Traddles ran his oily hands through his hair, and stood erect, looking at the tablecloth himself bewildered.As for me, I was only a young man at the head of the table, not daring to glance at the respectable man who came from God knows where to tidy up my lodgings.

At this moment he took the mutton off the grate and placed it before us in silence and solemnity.We each took a little, but we had no appetite for the stuff, we just pretended to eat it.As we pushed the plates away one by one, he gently removed them all and put the cheese on them.When the cheese was gone, he took the cheese dish away again, cleared the table, put everything on the lunch table, and put the wine back on for us.Then, without waiting for orders, the portable table was pushed into the pantry.All of this was done in such a proper, methodical way that he never lifted his eyes from what he was doing.But when he turned his back to me, his elbow seemed to amply confirm his fixed notion that I was extremely naive.

"Is there anything else I can do, sir?"

I thanked him and said, "No, but don't you need to order dinner yourself?"

"No, thank you, sir."

"Is Steerforth intending to come from Oxford?"

"Excuse me, what did you say, sir?"

"Is Steerforth coming from Oxford?"

"I should have thought he would be here tomorrow, sir, but I thought he was here today, sir. There is no doubt that it was my fault, sir."

"If you see him—" I said.

"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't think I'd see him first."

"In case you see him first," I said, "please convey to him that I feel very sorry that he is not here today, because an old schoolmate of his is also."

"Sure, sir!" He bowed between me and Traddles, and glanced at Traddles.

As he walked silently towards the door, I was so helpless that I wanted to speak to him in a natural way--I have never been able to speak calmly to this man--I said to him:

"Oh, Ritimo!"

"gentlemen!"

"Have you been in Yarmouth long?"

"Not very long, sir."

"Is that boat finished?"

"Yes, sir. I left it to see that boat finished."

"I see!" said I, and he raised his eyes respectfully to me. "I suppose Mr. Steerforth hasn't seen that boat yet!"

"I really don't know, sir. I thought—but I, sir, really don't know, sir. Good-bye."

After saying this, he bowed respectfully to us, and then went out.As soon as he left, my guests seemed to be able to breathe more easily, but my own relief was even greater, because I often had a feeling of inferiority in front of this person, which made me feel uncomfortable. There is another situation, that is, I always feel ashamed, because I don't trust his young master, so I have an uncontrollable anxiety and fear, lest he will see it.Of course I have nothing to hide, but I always feel as if this person is discovering my secret.HH?

Mr. Micawber called me from this reflection with many words of praise to Lytimus, calling him a most honorable man, and a perfect servant.

"But the wine, my dear Copperfield," said Mr. Micawber, tasting the wine, "is unforgiving, like time. Oh, it tastes best just now. My dear, What's your take on it?"

Mrs. Micawber also said that the wine could not have tasted better.

(End of this chapter)