David Copperfield

Chapter 99 Family chores (2)
Chapter 44 Family Trivia (2)
The laundress pawned our clothes and came to us to apologize, which happened to anyone a few times.There is also a fire in a chimney, the fire engines in the district came to put out the fire, and the clerks in the district extorted money, and everyone has experienced it.However, we had a maid who was fond of rum, which resulted in a number of items on our liquor bill, such as "a quarter pound limoncello (Mrs. Cole)" "an eighth pound clove wine (Mrs. Cole)" "A glass of mint liqueur (Mrs. Coe)"—the name in parentheses always refers to Dora.According to others, she drank all these stimulants to the ground.This misfortune, I am afraid, is unique to us.

Traddles was the first order of business in our home life to have a light meal.I met him in the city and asked him to go to the countryside with me that afternoon, and he readily agreed.So I wrote to Dora and told her about it.The weather was fine that day, and we just talked about my family happiness.Traddles was preoccupied with that too.He said that if he had such a home himself, and Sophie was waiting for him and preparing meals for him, then he would not know what was lacking in his happiness.

But after we were seated, I did wish my place was bigger.I don't understand what's going on, even though there are only two of us living, we always feel that the place is too small and crowded; but when we look for things, we say that the place is too big, and everything here seems to have entered the sea Same, lost and gone.I suspect this is because nothing has a fixed place except Jeep's kennel, which often blocks the way of passage.This time, it was Kip's kennel, and the guitar box, and Dora's flowers, and my writing-desk, so that Traddles was squeezed in between, and I very much doubted whether he would have enough room. to use his knife and fork.But he said earnestly, with his peculiar tenderness: "It's just like the sea, Copperfield! Believe me, it's like the sea!"

One thing I would like to be able to do is not to let Jeep walk on the tablecloth while eating.This time it seemed to him that the reason for his presence was to keep an eye on Traddles.So it snarled and snarled at my old friend with courage, running up and down on his plate.That way, everyone just looks at it.

But Dora was too soft-hearted to be sensitive to the slights of her beloved pet, and I dared not object at all.Also, I dare not mention, the scattered dishes on the floor;When I looked at the uncut leg of lamb in front of me, I couldn't help but wonder why the meat we bought was always in such a strange shape, and whether the shop where we bought the meat covered all the crippled people in the world the sheep.But all these thoughts, I put them all in my heart.

I said to Dora, "What's that on the plate?"

"That's oysters, my dear," said Dora.

"Is that what you want to buy?" I was overjoyed and asked.

"Yes, David," said Dora.

"You're more thoughtful!" I exclaimed. "That's what would please Traddles the most."

"Yes, David," said Dora, "so I bought a whole keg. The oyster man said they were very good. But I--I'm afraid it's a little Question." At this moment, tears glistened in her eyes.

"These oysters are all split open, but the two shells are put together," I said. "I only need to take the top half of the shell off."

"But I can't take it off."

"Copperfield," said Traddles, looking at the platter of oysters, "I suppose it is because of--the oysters are undoubtedly the best, but I suppose they were not at all It wasn't cut open."

Yes, the oysters hadn't been split open, and we didn't have oyster knives—even if we had, we wouldn't use them.So we had to look at the oysters while we ate the mutton.At least we ate the cooked part with the sauce.Had I left him, Traddles would have been a true savage, and eaten a plateful of raw meat, to show his satisfaction on the point.However, I must not allow him to make such a sacrifice.So we switched to bacon.By luck, we happened to have cold bacon in our closet.

Dora, who thought I must be unhappy about the situation, felt very sorry.But when she saw that I was not unhappy, she was very happy again.So the unhappiness I had endured quickly disappeared, and we passed a most merry evening.While Traddles and I drank the rum, Dora whispered in my ear, as every opportunity afforded me, that I was a good boy, and neither cruel nor ill-tempered.Later, she made tea for us.The action of her making tea is so beautiful, as if she is tinkering with a toy tea set.So I didn't bother to care about how the tea was brewed.Then Traddles and I played another round of clearwood.When Dora played and sang, I felt that our love and marriage were just a sweet dream I had. I still remember the night when I heard her sing for the first time.

Traddles is gone, and I see him out.

Then Dora said: "I'm ashamed, but will you try to teach me, David?"

"I must teach myself first, Dora," said I, "and I know nothing like you, my love."

"However, you are so smart that you can learn it well." She replied to me.

"Nonsense," I said.

"I wish I could go to the country and live with Agnes for a whole year!"

"Why?" I asked.

"I feel like she can teach me," Dora said.

"Don't worry about it, my love, don't you forget that Agnes has been taking care of her father for many years. Even when she was a child, that's how she is now," I said.

"Would you mind calling me by a name I've devised?" asked Dora.

"What do you want me to call you?" I asked her.

She said, "I want you to call me Mrs. Kid."

I laughed and asked my child's wife how she would think of me calling her that? She replied:

"You silly boy, I mean, you gotta think of me as a kid's wife. When you get mad at me, you say to yourself, 'It's my kid's wife!' When I'm mad at you When you're frustrated, you say, 'I knew she'd only be a child wife!' When you realize I can't do what you want, then you say, 'But my child still loves me! 'I do love you."

She soon became my child's wife, sitting on the ground next to the Chinese house, ringing the little bells one by one, as a punishment for Kip's bad behavior just now; At the door of the nest, poke your head outside, blink your eyes, and don't bother to care about it.

These few short words, I will always remember in my heart.

After a while, Dora told me that she was going to be a great housekeeper.She wiped the clipboard clean, sharpened the pencils, bought a gigantic account book, and carefully stapled together the pages of Kip's torn cookbook with a needle and thread.No sooner had she labored to make two or three entries in the ledger than Kip went over the ledger.The middle finger on her own little right hand was also soaked with ink, seeping into the bone.I think that is the only result of her efforts.

Sometimes, in the evenings, when I was working at home—because I was beginning to win a little writer's place in the literary world and was writing profusely—I used to put down my pen and look at my little wife, How to try your best to learn well.First of all, she had to take out the incomparably huge ledger, and with a long sigh, put it on the table.Then she turned the ledger to the page that Jip had made such a mess of the night before, and called Jip to see what mischief he had been, and blackened his nose with ink as punishment.Then she told Kip to lie down on the table--if Kip was happy, he would lie down obediently.

After she sat like this, she tried her best to write out why.She carefully compared the bills with each other, counting all the fingers of her left hand, back and forth, one at a time.She was so depressed and troubled, and looked so unhappy.So I went up to her and said:

"What's the matter, Dora?"

Dora answered, "These things make me dizzy."

I said, "Let me show you first, Dora."

So I did the actual demonstration, and Dora watched it intently for 5 minutes, and then she got very tired.So she fiddled with my hair and dropped my collar (see what I look like in that situation).

If I secretly stop her behavior, she will become more and more at a loss, showing a very frightened and depressed look.Then I would think of how lively and natural she was when I first met her, and also remember that she is just my child's wife now, so I would feel guilty.So I stopped teaching her and took out the guitar.

For my child's wife's sake, I kept all my worries to myself and kept them to myself.I have a lot of work to do, and a lot of worry, and now I am digging my brains to put all the secrets of my heart, all that I know, in this book without reservation.My old sense that something was missing or lacking still had a place in me, but it didn't make life difficult for me.When I go out for a walk alone in clear weather, I think of those past summers filled with my childish dreams.I do feel that I have some dreams that are not fulfilled.But it seemed to me that it was but a glimmer of the past, and that nothing could bring it back as it was.Sometimes, for a moment, I also feel that I hope my wife is my project, with more courage and strong will, to support me and help me progress, to have a kind of power that can fill my heart the emptiness.But I think that this kind of complete happiness does not exist in this world.

For my age, I am a childish husband.If I have done anything with a guilty conscience (I may not have done much), it is also because I have used the situation inappropriately and lacked experience.

In this way, I shouldered all the hardships and troubles of my life alone, and I had no one to deal with them.When it comes to how we're trying to get by, we're still pretty much the same.But I got used to it, and Dora was less troubled, which we were glad to see.She was just as happy as a child again, and loved me with all tenderness, and was happy as long as she had those little things of old.

If the debates in Parliament are heavy--I mean burdensome due to length, not quality--I come home very late, and Dora will not go to bed first, and will run at the sound of my steps. Come downstairs to meet me.Sometimes, at night, I don't have to do the profession that I have learned so hard, but when I am writing at home, no matter how late it is, Dora will sit quietly beside me, and so silently. She was silent, so I often thought she was asleep.But every time I look up, I always see her looking at me so peacefully.

"Oh, you're so tired, young man!" said Dora one evening, as I closed my desk and looked at her.

"You're very tired, little girl!" I said. "Next time you'll go to bed first, my dear."

"Don't make me go to bed!" pleaded Dora, "don't make me go to bed!"

"Dora!"

To my surprise, she fell on my neck and sobbed.

"Are you uncomfortable, my dear, are you unhappy?"

"No!" said Dora, "but you will ask me to stay by your side and watch you write."

"How beautiful your eyes are at night!" I answered her.

"Really?" said Dora, "I'm so glad you said they were pretty."

"Little vanity!" I said.

But that's just her joy at my compliment, I get it.

"If you think my eyes are pretty, that means I can stay with you forever and watch you write!" said Dora. "Extremely beautiful!"

"Let me write with you forever."

"I'm afraid that won't brighten your eyes."

"Of course! Because then, when you're silently imagining this and that in your head, you're supposed to remember me. If I'm going to say something very, very stupid--you won't mind?"

"Are you going to say something amazing again?" I said.

"Let me carry your pen, won't you?" said Dora. "I'm going to do something during all those hours, when you're so busy. Let me carry your pen, will you?"

She is happy because she can help me work in this way.I then thought of a new way of pleasing my child's wife: I often pretended to need her to transcribe a page or two, and then Dora was much happier.She prepared for her great work.The apron she wore; the effort she put in; the countless pauses she made to smile at Kip; her conviction that the job wasn't done until she signed her name at the end; The situation when the manuscript was sent to me: This situation may seem normal to others, but it is a very moving memory for me.

After that, she tied the whole bunch of keys around her slender waist, and dinged them around the house.I couldn't see any lock where the keys belonged, nor could I see any use for them other than for Jip to play with--but Dora liked it, and I liked it for it.She regards this pretentious housekeeping as a real thing, so she is very satisfied.She was as happy as if we had built a doll house to take care of just for fun.

We live like this day by day.Dora loved my aunt almost as much as she loved me.She used to tell my aunt that she was afraid my aunt was "a nasty old thing".My aunt was more accommodating to Dora than to anyone.She teased Kip, but Kip never paid her any attention; she listened to Dora play the guitar day after day, though I doubted she was interested in music; she never lost her temper with the worthless servants, though She held her breath; as long as she found that Dora liked any little things, no matter how far away, she would walk to buy them for her; every time she saw that Dora was not in the living room, she always shouted happily:

"Where did the little flower go?"

(End of this chapter)