Дэвид Копперфильд

My ‘First Half’ at Salem House

           Athorough-builtboatman!Hor,hor!That’swhatheis,too!’

           Mr.Peggottywasnolesspleasedthanhisnephew,thoughhismodestyforbadehimtoclaimapersonalcomplimentsovociferously.

           ‘Well,sir,’hesaid,bowingandchuckling,andtuckingintheendsofhisneckerchiefathisbreast:‘Ithankee,sir,Ithankee!Idomyendeavoursinmylineoflife,sir.’

           ‘Thebestofmencandonomore,Mr.Peggotty,’saidSteerforth.Hehadgothisnamealready.

           ‘I’llpoundit,it’swotyoudoyourself,sir,’saidMr.Peggotty,shakinghishead,‘andwotyoudowellrightwell!Ithankee,sir.I’mobleegedtoyou,sir,foryourwelcomingmannerofme.I’mrough,sir,butI’mreadyleastways,IhopeI’mready,youunnerstand.Myhouseain’tmuchfortosee,sir,butit’sheartyatyourserviceifeveryoushouldcomealongwithMas’rDavytoseeit.I’mareg’larDodman,Iam,’saidMr.Peggotty,bywhichhemeantsnail,andthiswasinallusiontohisbeingslowtogo,forhehadattemptedtogoaftereverysentence,andhadsomehoworothercomebackagain;‘butIwishyoubothwell,andIwishyouhappy!’

           Hamechoedthissentiment,andwepartedwiththemintheheartiestmanner.IwasalmosttemptedthateveningtotellSteerforthaboutprettylittleEm’ly,butIwastootimidofmentioninghername,andtoomuchafraidofhislaughingatme.IrememberthatIthoughtagooddeal,andinanuneasysortofway,aboutMr.

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