No More Learning

Now
I DID know the old 'un,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'and I know'd his merits,
so I unnerstan' her; but 'tan't entirely so, you see, with
others--nat'rally can't be! '

My aunt and I both acquiesced.

'Wheerby,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'my sister might--I doen't say she would,
but might--find Missis Gummidge give her a leetle trouble now-and-again.
Theerfur 'tan't my intentions to moor Missis Gummidge 'long with them,
but to find a Beein' fur her wheer she can fisherate for herself. '
(A Beein' signifies, in that dialect, a home, and to fisherate is to
provide. ) 'Fur which purpose,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'I means to make her
a 'lowance afore I go, as'll leave her pretty comfort'ble. She's the
faithfullest of creeturs. 'Tan't to be expected, of course, at her
time of life, and being lone and lorn, as the good old Mawther is to
be knocked about aboardship, and in the woods and wilds of a new and
fur-away country. So that's what I'm a-going to do with her. '

He forgot nobody. He thought of everybody's claims and strivings, but
his own.

'Em'ly,' he continued, 'will keep along with me--poor child, she's sore
in need of peace and rest! --until such time as we goes upon our voyage.
She'll work at them clothes, as must be made; and I hope her troubles
will begin to seem longer ago than they was, wen she finds herself once
more by her rough but loving uncle. '

My aunt nodded confirmation of this hope, and imparted great
satisfaction to Mr. Peggotty.

'Theer's one thing furder, Mas'r Davy,' said he, putting his hand in his
breast-pocket, and gravely taking out the little paper bundle I had
seen before, which he unrolled on the table. 'Theer's these here
banknotes--fifty pound, and ten. To them I wish to add the money as she
come away with. I've asked her about that (but not saying why), and have
added of it up. I an't a scholar. Would you be so kind as see how 'tis? '

He handed me, apologetically for his scholarship, a piece of paper, and
observed me while I looked it over. It was quite right.

'Thankee, sir,' he said, taking it back. 'This money, if you doen't
see objections, Mas'r Davy, I shall put up jest afore I go, in a cover
directed to him; and put that up in another, directed to his mother.
I shall tell her, in no more wureds than I speak to you, what it's the
price on; and that I'm gone, and past receiving of it back. '

I told him that I thought it would be right to do so--that I was
thoroughly convinced it would be, since he felt it to be right.

'I said that theer was on'y one thing furder,' he proceeded with a grave
smile, when he had made up his little bundle again, and put it in his
pocket; 'but theer was two. I warn't sure in my mind, wen I come out
this morning, as I could go and break to Ham, of my own self, what had
so thankfully happened. So I writ a letter while I was out, and put
it in the post-office, telling of 'em how all was as 'tis; and that I
should come down tomorrow to unload my mind of what little needs a-doing
of down theer, and, most-like, take my farewell leave of Yarmouth. '

'And do you wish me to go with you? ' said I, seeing that he left
something unsaid.

'If you could do me that kind favour, Mas'r Davy,' he replied. 'I know
the sight on you would cheer 'em up a bit. '

My little Dora being in good spirits, and very desirous that I should
go--as I found on talking it over with her--I readily pledged myself to
accompany him in accordance with his wish. Next morning, consequently,
we were on the Yarmouth coach, and again travelling over the old ground.

As we passed along the familiar street at night--Mr. Peggotty, in
despite of all my remonstrances, carrying my bag--I glanced into Omer
and Joram's shop, and saw my old friend Mr. Omer there, smoking his
pipe. I felt reluctant to be present, when Mr. Peggotty first met his
sister and Ham; and made Mr. Omer my excuse for lingering behind.

'How is Mr. Omer, after this long time? ' said I, going in.

He fanned away the smoke of his pipe, that he might get a better view of
me, and soon recognized me with great delight.

'I should get up, sir, to acknowledge such an honour as this visit,'
said he, 'only my limbs are rather out of sorts, and I am wheeled about.
With the exception of my limbs and my breath, howsoever, I am as hearty
as a man can be, I'm thankful to say. '

I congratulated him on his contented looks and his good spirits, and
saw, now, that his easy-chair went on wheels.

'It's an ingenious thing, ain't it? ' he inquired, following the
direction of my glance, and polishing the elbow with his arm. 'It runs
as light as a feather, and tracks as true as a mail-coach. Bless you,
my little Minnie--my grand-daughter you know, Minnie's child--puts her
little strength against the back, gives it a shove, and away we go, as
clever and merry as ever you see anything! And I tell you what--it's a
most uncommon chair to smoke a pipe in. '

I never saw such a good old fellow to make the best of a thing, and
find out the enjoyment of it, as Mr. Omer. He was as radiant, as if
his chair, his asthma, and the failure of his limbs, were the various
branches of a great invention for enhancing the luxury of a pipe.

'I see more of the world, I can assure you,' said Mr. Omer, 'in this
chair, than ever I see out of it. You'd be surprised at the number of
people that looks in of a day to have a chat. You really would! There's
twice as much in the newspaper, since I've taken to this chair, as there
used to be. As to general reading, dear me, what a lot of it I do get
through! That's what I feel so strong, you know! If it had been my eyes,
what should I have done? If it had been my ears, what should I have
done? Being my limbs, what does it signify? Why, my limbs only made my
breath shorter when I used 'em. And now, if I want to go out into
the street or down to the sands, I've only got to call Dick, Joram's
youngest 'prentice, and away I go in my own carriage, like the Lord
Mayor of London. '

He half suffocated himself with laughing here.

'Lord bless you! ' said Mr. Omer, resuming his pipe, 'a man must take
the fat with the lean; that's what he must make up his mind to, in this
life. Joram does a fine business. Ex-cellent business! '

'I am very glad to hear it,' said I.

'I knew you would be,' said Mr. Omer. 'And Joram and Minnie are like
Valentines. What more can a man expect? What's his limbs to that! '

His supreme contempt for his own limbs, as he sat smoking, was one of
the pleasantest oddities I have ever encountered.

'And since I've took to general reading, you've took to general writing,
eh, sir? ' said Mr. Omer, surveying me admiringly. 'What a lovely work
that was of yours! What expressions in it! I read it every word--every
word. And as to feeling sleepy! Not at all! '

I laughingly expressed my satisfaction, but I must confess that I
thought this association of ideas significant.

'I give you my word and honour, sir,' said Mr. Omer, 'that when I lay
that book upon the table, and look at it outside; compact in three
separate and indiwidual wollumes--one, two, three; I am as proud as
Punch to think that I once had the honour of being connected with
your family. And dear me, it's a long time ago, now, ain't it? Over
at Blunderstone. With a pretty little party laid along with the other
party. And you quite a small party then, yourself. Dear, dear! '

I changed the subject by referring to Emily. After assuring him that I
did not forget how interested he had always been in her, and how
kindly he had always treated her, I gave him a general account of her
restoration to her uncle by the aid of Martha; which I knew would please
the old man. He listened with the utmost attention, and said, feelingly,
when I had done:

'I am rejoiced at it, sir! It's the best news I have heard for many
a day. Dear, dear, dear! And what's going to be undertook for that
unfortunate young woman, Martha, now? '

'You touch a point that my thoughts have been dwelling on since
yesterday,' said I, 'but on which I can give you no information yet, Mr.
Omer. Mr. Peggotty has not alluded to it, and I have a delicacy in
doing so. I am sure he has not forgotten it. He forgets nothing that is
disinterested and good. '

'Because you know,' said Mr. Omer, taking himself up, where he had left
off, 'whatever is done, I should wish to be a member of. Put me down for
anything you may consider right, and let me know. I never could think
the girl all bad, and I am glad to find she's not. So will my daughter
Minnie be. Young women are contradictory creatures in some things--her
mother was just the same as her--but their hearts are soft and kind.
It's all show with Minnie, about Martha. Why she should consider it
necessary to make any show, I don't undertake to tell you. But it's all
show, bless you. She'd do her any kindness in private. So, put me down
for whatever you may consider right, will you be so good? and drop me
a line where to forward it. Dear me! ' said Mr. Omer, 'when a man is
drawing on to a time of life, where the two ends of life meet; when he
finds himself, however hearty he is, being wheeled about for the second
time, in a speeches of go-cart; he should be over-rejoiced to do a
kindness if he can. He wants plenty. And I don't speak of myself,
particular,' said Mr. Omer, 'because, sir, the way I look at it is, that
we are all drawing on to the bottom of the hill, whatever age we are,
on account of time never standing still for a single moment. So let us
always do a kindness, and be over-rejoiced. To be sure! '

He knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and put it on a ledge in the back
of his chair, expressly made for its reception.

'There's Em'ly's cousin, him that she was to have been married to,' said
Mr. Omer, rubbing his hands feebly, 'as fine a fellow as there is in
Yarmouth! He'll come and talk or read to me, in the evening, for an hour
together sometimes. That's a kindness, I should call it! All his life's
a kindness. '

'I am going to see him now,' said I.

'Are you? ' said Mr. Omer. 'Tell him I was hearty, and sent my respects.
Minnie and Joram's at a ball. They would be as proud to see you as I
am, if they was at home. Minnie won't hardly go out at all, you see, "on
account of father", as she says. So I swore tonight, that if she didn't
go, I'd go to bed at six. In consequence of which,' Mr. Omer shook
himself and his chair with laughter at the success of his device, 'she
and Joram's at a ball. '

I shook hands with him, and wished him good night.

'Half a minute, sir,' said Mr. Omer. 'If you was to go without seeing
my little elephant, you'd lose the best of sights. You never see such
a sight! Minnie! ' A musical little voice answered, from somewhere
upstairs, 'I am coming, grandfather! ' and a pretty little girl with
long, flaxen, curling hair, soon came running into the shop.

'This is my little elephant, sir,' said Mr. Omer, fondling the child.
'Siamese breed, sir. Now, little elephant! '

The little elephant set the door of the parlour open, enabling me to see
that, in these latter days, it was converted into a bedroom for Mr.
Omer who could not be easily conveyed upstairs; and then hid her pretty
forehead, and tumbled her long hair, against the back of Mr. Omer's
chair.

'The elephant butts, you know, sir,' said Mr. Omer, winking, 'when he
goes at a object. Once, elephant. Twice. Three times! '

At this signal, the little elephant, with a dexterity that was next to
marvellous in so small an animal, whisked the chair round with Mr. Omer
in it, and rattled it off, pell-mell, into the parlour, without touching
the door-post: Mr. Omer indescribably enjoying the performance, and
looking back at me on the road as if it were the triumphant issue of his
life's exertions.

After a stroll about the town I went to Ham's house. Peggotty had now
removed here for good; and had let her own house to the successor of
Mr. Barkis in the carrying business, who had paid her very well for the
good-will, cart, and horse. I believe the very same slow horse that Mr.
Barkis drove was still at work.

I found them in the neat kitchen, accompanied by Mrs. Gummidge, who had
been fetched from the old boat by Mr. Peggotty himself. I doubt if
she could have been induced to desert her post, by anyone else. He
had evidently told them all. Both Peggotty and Mrs. Gummidge had their
aprons to their eyes, and Ham had just stepped out 'to take a turn on
the beach'. He presently came home, very glad to see me; and I hope they
were all the better for my being there. We spoke, with some approach to
cheerfulness, of Mr. Peggotty's growing rich in a new country, and of
the wonders he would describe in his letters. We said nothing of Emily
by name, but distantly referred to her more than once. Ham was the
serenest of the party.

But, Peggotty told me, when she lighted me to a little chamber where the
Crocodile book was lying ready for me on the table, that he always was
the same. She believed (she told me, crying) that he was broken-hearted;
though he was as full of courage as of sweetness, and worked harder and
better than any boat-builder in any yard in all that part. There were
times, she said, of an evening, when he talked of their old life in
the boat-house; and then he mentioned Emily as a child. But, he never
mentioned her as a woman.

I thought I had read in his face that he would like to speak to me
alone. I therefore resolved to put myself in his way next evening, as he
came home from his work. Having settled this with myself, I fell asleep.
That night, for the first time in all those many nights, the candle was
taken out of the window, Mr. Peggotty swung in his old hammock in the
old boat, and the wind murmured with the old sound round his head.
All next day, he was occupied in disposing of his fishing-boat and
tackle; in packing up, and sending to London by waggon, such of his
little domestic possessions as he thought would be useful to him; and in
parting with the rest, or bestowing them on Mrs. Gummidge. She was with
him all day. As I had a sorrowful wish to see the old place once more,
before it was locked up, I engaged to meet them there in the evening.
But I so arranged it, as that I should meet Ham first.

It was easy to come in his way, as I knew where he worked. I met him
at a retired part of the sands, which I knew he would cross, and turned
back with him, that he might have leisure to speak to me if he really
wished. I had not mistaken the expression of his face. We had walked but
a little way together, when he said, without looking at me:

'Mas'r Davy, have you seen her? '

'Only for a moment, when she was in a swoon,' I softly answered.

We walked a little farther, and he said:

'Mas'r Davy, shall you see her, d'ye think? '

'It would be too painful to her, perhaps,' said I.

'I have thowt of that,' he replied. 'So 'twould, sir, so 'twould. '

'But, Ham,' said I, gently, 'if there is anything that I could write
to her, for you, in case I could not tell it; if there is anything
you would wish to make known to her through me; I should consider it a
sacred trust. '

'I am sure on't. I thankee, sir, most kind! I think theer is something I
could wish said or wrote. '

'What is it? '

We walked a little farther in silence, and then he spoke.

''Tan't that I forgive her. 'Tan't that so much. 'Tis more as I beg of
her to forgive me, for having pressed my affections upon her. Odd times,
I think that if I hadn't had her promise fur to marry me, sir, she was
that trustful of me, in a friendly way, that she'd have told me what was
struggling in her mind, and would have counselled with me, and I might
have saved her. '

I pressed his hand. 'Is that all? ' 'Theer's yet a something else,' he
returned, 'if I can say it, Mas'r Davy. '

We walked on, farther than we had walked yet, before he spoke again. He
was not crying when he made the pauses I shall express by lines. He was
merely collecting himself to speak very plainly.

'I loved her--and I love the mem'ry of her--too deep--to be able to
lead her to believe of my own self as I'm a happy man. I could only be
happy--by forgetting of her--and I'm afeerd I couldn't hardly bear as
she should be told I done that. But if you, being so full of learning,
Mas'r Davy, could think of anything to say as might bring her to believe
I wasn't greatly hurt: still loving of her, and mourning for her:
anything as might bring her to believe as I was not tired of my life,
and yet was hoping fur to see her without blame, wheer the wicked cease
from troubling and the weary are at rest--anything as would ease her
sorrowful mind, and yet not make her think as I could ever marry, or as
'twas possible that anyone could ever be to me what she was--I should
ask of you to say that--with my prayers for her--that was so dear. '

I pressed his manly hand again, and told him I would charge myself to do
this as well as I could.

'I thankee, sir,' he answered. ''Twas kind of you to meet me. 'Twas kind
of you to bear him company down. Mas'r Davy, I unnerstan' very well,
though my aunt will come to Lon'on afore they sail, and they'll unite
once more, that I am not like to see him agen. I fare to feel sure on't.
We doen't say so, but so 'twill be, and better so. The last you see on
him--the very last--will you give him the lovingest duty and thanks of
the orphan, as he was ever more than a father to? '

This I also promised, faithfully.

'I thankee agen, sir,' he said, heartily shaking hands. 'I know wheer
you're a-going. Good-bye! '

With a slight wave of his hand, as though to explain to me that he could
not enter the old place, he turned away. As I looked after his figure,
crossing the waste in the moonlight, I saw him turn his face towards a
strip of silvery light upon the sea, and pass on, looking at it, until
he was a shadow in the distance.

The door of the boat-house stood open when I approached; and, on
entering, I found it emptied of all its furniture, saving one of the old
lockers, on which Mrs. Gummidge, with a basket on her knee, was seated,
looking at Mr. Peggotty. He leaned his elbow on the rough chimney-piece,
and gazed upon a few expiring embers in the grate; but he raised his
head, hopefully, on my coming in, and spoke in a cheery manner.

'Come, according to promise, to bid farewell to 't, eh, Mas'r Davy? '
he said, taking up the candle. 'Bare enough, now, an't it? ' 'Indeed you
have made good use of the time,' said I.

'Why, we have not been idle, sir. Missis Gummidge has worked like a--I
doen't know what Missis Gummidge an't worked like,' said Mr. Peggotty,
looking at her, at a loss for a sufficiently approving simile.

Mrs. Gummidge, leaning on her basket, made no observation.

'Theer's the very locker that you used to sit on, 'long with Em'ly! '
said Mr. Peggotty, in a whisper. 'I'm a-going to carry it away with me,
last of all. And heer's your old little bedroom, see, Mas'r Davy! A'most
as bleak tonight, as 'art could wish! '

In truth, the wind, though it was low, had a solemn sound, and crept
around the deserted house with a whispered wailing that was very
mournful. Everything was gone, down to the little mirror with the
oyster-shell frame. I thought of myself, lying here, when that first
great change was being wrought at home. I thought of the blue-eyed child
who had enchanted me. I thought of Steerforth: and a foolish, fearful
fancy came upon me of his being near at hand, and liable to be met at
any turn.

''Tis like to be long,' said Mr. Peggotty, in a low voice, 'afore
the boat finds new tenants. They look upon 't, down heer, as being
unfortunate now! '

'Does it belong to anybody in the neighbourhood? ' I asked.

'To a mast-maker up town,' said Mr. Peggotty. 'I'm a-going to give the
key to him tonight. '

We looked into the other little room, and came back to Mrs. Gummidge,
sitting on the locker, whom Mr. Peggotty, putting the light on the
chimney-piece, requested to rise, that he might carry it outside the
door before extinguishing the candle.

'Dan'l,' said Mrs. Gummidge, suddenly deserting her basket, and clinging
to his arm 'my dear Dan'l, the parting words I speak in this house is, I
mustn't be left behind. Doen't ye think of leaving me behind, Dan'l! Oh,
doen't ye ever do it! '

Mr. Peggotty, taken aback, looked from Mrs. Gummidge to me, and from me
to Mrs. Gummidge, as if he had been awakened from a sleep.

'Doen't ye, dearest Dan'l, doen't ye! ' cried Mrs. Gummidge, fervently.
'Take me 'long with you, Dan'l, take me 'long with you and Em'ly! I'll
be your servant, constant and trew. If there's slaves in them parts
where you're a-going, I'll be bound to you for one, and happy, but
doen't ye leave me behind, Dan'l, that's a deary dear! '

'My good soul,' said Mr. Peggotty, shaking his head, 'you doen't know
what a long voyage, and what a hard life 'tis! ' 'Yes, I do, Dan'l! I can
guess! ' cried Mrs. Gummidge. 'But my parting words under this roof is,
I shall go into the house and die, if I am not took. I can dig, Dan'l.
I can work. I can live hard. I can be loving and patient now--more than
you think, Dan'l, if you'll on'y try me. I wouldn't touch the 'lowance,
not if I was dying of want, Dan'l Peggotty; but I'll go with you and
Em'ly, if you'll on'y let me, to the world's end! I know how 'tis; I
know you think that I am lone and lorn; but, deary love, 'tan't so no
more! I ain't sat here, so long, a-watching, and a-thinking of your
trials, without some good being done me. Mas'r Davy, speak to him for
me! I knows his ways, and Em'ly's, and I knows their sorrows, and can be
a comfort to 'em, some odd times, and labour for 'em allus! Dan'l, deary
Dan'l, let me go 'long with you! '

And Mrs. Gummidge took his hand, and kissed it with a homely pathos and
affection, in a homely rapture of devotion and gratitude, that he well
deserved.

We brought the locker out, extinguished the candle, fastened the door
on the outside, and left the old boat close shut up, a dark speck in
the cloudy night. Next day, when we were returning to London outside the
coach, Mrs. Gummidge and her basket were on the seat behind, and Mrs.
Gummidge was happy.



CHAPTER 52. I ASSIST AT AN EXPLOSION


When the time Mr. Micawber had appointed so mysteriously, was within
four-and-twenty hours of being come, my aunt and I consulted how we
should proceed; for my aunt was very unwilling to leave Dora. Ah! how
easily I carried Dora up and down stairs, now!

We were disposed, notwithstanding Mr. Micawber's stipulation for my
aunt's attendance, to arrange that she should stay at home, and be
represented by Mr. Dick and me. In short, we had resolved to take this
course, when Dora again unsettled us by declaring that she never
would forgive herself, and never would forgive her bad boy, if my aunt
remained behind, on any pretence.

'I won't speak to you,' said Dora, shaking her curls at my aunt. 'I'll
be disagreeable! I'll make Jip bark at you all day. I shall be sure that
you really are a cross old thing, if you don't go! '

'Tut, Blossom! ' laughed my aunt. 'You know you can't do without me! '

'Yes, I can,' said Dora. 'You are no use to me at all. You never run up
and down stairs for me, all day long. You never sit and tell me stories
about Doady, when his shoes were worn out, and he was covered with
dust--oh, what a poor little mite of a fellow! You never do anything at
all to please me, do you, dear? ' Dora made haste to kiss my aunt, and
say, 'Yes, you do! I'm only joking! '-lest my aunt should think she
really meant it.

'But, aunt,' said Dora, coaxingly, 'now listen. You must go. I shall
tease you, 'till you let me have my own way about it. I shall lead my
naughty boy such a life, if he don't make you go. I shall make myself
so disagreeable--and so will Jip! You'll wish you had gone, like a good
thing, for ever and ever so long, if you don't go. Besides,' said Dora,
putting back her hair, and looking wonderingly at my aunt and me, 'why
shouldn't you both go? I am not very ill indeed. Am I? '

'Why, what a question! ' cried my aunt.

'What a fancy! ' said I.

'Yes! I know I am a silly little thing! ' said Dora, slowly looking from
one of us to the other, and then putting up her pretty lips to kiss us
as she lay upon her couch. 'Well, then, you must both go, or I shall not
believe you; and then I shall cry! '

I saw, in my aunt's face, that she began to give way now, and Dora
brightened again, as she saw it too.

'You'll come back with so much to tell me, that it'll take at least
a week to make me understand! ' said Dora. 'Because I know I shan't
understand, for a length of time, if there's any business in it. And
there's sure to be some business in it! If there's anything to add up,
besides, I don't know when I shall make it out; and my bad boy will look
so miserable all the time. There! Now you'll go, won't you? You'll only
be gone one night, and Jip will take care of me while you are gone.
Doady will carry me upstairs before you go, and I won't come down again
till you come back; and you shall take Agnes a dreadfully scolding
letter from me, because she has never been to see us! '

We agreed, without any more consultation, that we would both go, and
that Dora was a little Impostor, who feigned to be rather unwell,
because she liked to be petted. She was greatly pleased, and very merry;
and we four, that is to say, my aunt, Mr. Dick, Traddles, and I, went
down to Canterbury by the Dover mail that night.

At the hotel where Mr. Micawber had requested us to await him, which
we got into, with some trouble, in the middle of the night, I found a
letter, importing that he would appear in the morning punctually at half
past nine. After which, we went shivering, at that uncomfortable hour,
to our respective beds, through various close passages; which smelt as
if they had been steeped, for ages, in a solution of soup and stables.

Early in the morning, I sauntered through the dear old tranquil streets,
and again mingled with the shadows of the venerable gateways and
churches. The rooks were sailing about the cathedral towers; and the
towers themselves, overlooking many a long unaltered mile of the rich
country and its pleasant streams, were cutting the bright morning air,
as if there were no such thing as change on earth. Yet the bells, when
they sounded, told me sorrowfully of change in everything; told me of
their own age, and my pretty Dora's youth; and of the many, never old,
who had lived and loved and died, while the reverberations of the bells
had hummed through the rusty armour of the Black Prince hanging up
within, and, motes upon the deep of Time, had lost themselves in air, as
circles do in water.

I looked at the old house from the corner of the street, but did not go
nearer to it, lest, being observed, I might unwittingly do any harm to
the design I had come to aid. The early sun was striking edgewise on its
gables and lattice-windows, touching them with gold; and some beams of
its old peace seemed to touch my heart.

I strolled into the country for an hour or so, and then returned by
the main street, which in the interval had shaken off its last night's
sleep. Among those who were stirring in the shops, I saw my ancient
enemy the butcher, now advanced to top-boots and a baby, and in business
for himself. He was nursing the baby, and appeared to be a benignant
member of society.

We all became very anxious and impatient, when we sat down to breakfast.
As it approached nearer and nearer to half past nine o'clock, our
restless expectation of Mr. Micawber increased. At last we made no more
pretence of attending to the meal, which, except with Mr. Dick, had been
a mere form from the first; but my aunt walked up and down the room,
Traddles sat upon the sofa affecting to read the paper with his eyes on
the ceiling; and I looked out of the window to give early notice of Mr.
Micawber's coming. Nor had I long to watch, for, at the first chime of
the half hour, he appeared in the street.

'Here he is,' said I, 'and not in his legal attire! '

My aunt tied the strings of her bonnet (she had come down to breakfast
in it), and put on her shawl, as if she were ready for anything that
was resolute and uncompromising. Traddles buttoned his coat with a
determined air. Mr. Dick, disturbed by these formidable appearances, but
feeling it necessary to imitate them, pulled his hat, with both hands,
as firmly over his ears as he possibly could; and instantly took it off
again, to welcome Mr. Micawber.

'Gentlemen, and madam,' said Mr. Micawber, 'good morning! My dear sir,'
to Mr. Dick, who shook hands with him violently, 'you are extremely
good.