Дэвид Копперфильд

Liking Life on My Own Account No Better, I Form a Great Resolution

           Atpresent,anduntilsomethingturnsup(whichIam,Imaysay,hourlyexpecting),Ihavenothingtobestowbutadvice.Stillmyadviceissofarworthtaking,thatinshort,thatIhavenevertakenitmyself,andamthe’hereMr.Micawber,whohadbeenbeamingandsmiling,alloverhisheadandface,uptothepresentmoment,checkedhimselfandfrowned‘themiserablewretchyoubehold.’

           ‘MydearMicawber!’urgedhiswife.

           ‘Isay,’returnedMr.Micawber,quiteforgettinghimself,andsmilingagain,‘themiserablewretchyoubehold.Myadviceis,neverdotomorrowwhatyoucandotoday.Procrastinationisthethiefoftime.Collarhim!’

           ‘Mypoorpapa’smaxim,’Mrs.Micawberobserved.

           ‘Mydear,’saidMr.Micawber,‘yourpapawasverywellinhisway,andHeavenforbidthatIshoulddisparagehim.Takehimforallinall,wene’ershallinshort,maketheacquaintance,probably,ofanybodyelsepossessing,athistimeoflife,thesamelegsforgaiters,andabletoreadthesamedescriptionofprint,withoutspectacles.Butheappliedthatmaximtoourmarriage,mydear;andthatwassofarprematurelyenteredinto,inconsequence,thatIneverrecoveredtheexpense.’Mr.MicawberlookedasideatMrs.Micawber,andadded:‘NotthatIamsorryforit.Quitethecontrary,mylove.’Afterwhich,hewasgraveforaminuteorso.

           ‘Myotherpieceofadvice,Copperfield,’saidMr.Micawber,‘youknow.

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