Дэвид Копперфильд

I Begin Life on My Own Account, and Don’t Like it

           ‘Sixtea,twosalt,andapairofsugars,Ihaveatdifferenttimesborrowedmoneyon,insecret,withmyownhands.Butthetwinsareagreattie;andtome,withmyrecollections,ofpapaandmama,thesetransactionsareverypainful.Therearestillafewtriflesthatwecouldpartwith.Mr.Micawber’sfeelingswouldneverallowhimtodisposeofthem;andClickett’thiswasthegirlfromtheworkhouse‘beingofavulgarmind,wouldtakepainfullibertiesifsomuchconfidencewasreposedinher.MasterCopperfield,ifImightaskyou

           IunderstoodMrs.Micawbernow,andbeggedhertomakeuseofmetoanyextent.Ibegantodisposeofthemoreportablearticlesofpropertythatveryevening;andwentoutonasimilarexpeditionalmosteverymorning,beforeIwenttoMurdstoneandGrinby’s.

           Mr.Micawberhadafewbooksonalittlechiffonier,whichhecalledthelibrary;andthosewentfirst.Icarriedthem,oneafteranother,toabookstallintheCityRoadonepartofwhich,nearourhouse,wasalmostallbookstallsandbirdshopsthenandsoldthemforwhatevertheywouldbring.Thekeeperofthisbookstall,wholivedinalittlehousebehindit,usedtogettipsyeverynight,andtobeviolentlyscoldedbyhiswifeeverymorning.

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