Дэвид Копперфильд

A Retrospect

           SometimesIseethebutcher,bloodybutconfident;sometimesIseenothing,andsitgaspingonmysecond’sknee;sometimesIgoinatthebutchermadly,andcutmyknucklesopenagainsthisface,withoutappearingtodiscomposehimatall.AtlastIawake,veryqueeraboutthehead,asfromagiddysleep,andseethebutcherwalkingoff,congratulatedbythetwootherbutchersandthesweepandpublican,andputtingonhiscoatashegoes;fromwhichIaugur,justly,thatthevictoryishis.

           Iamtakenhomeinasadplight,andIhavebeef-steaksputtomyeyes,andamrubbedwithvinegarandbrandy,andfindagreatpuffyplaceburstingoutonmyupperlip,whichswellsimmoderately.ForthreeorfourdaysIremainathome,averyill-lookingsubject,withagreenshadeovermyeyes;andIshouldbeverydull,butthatAgnesisasistertome,andcondoleswithme,andreadstome,andmakesthetimelightandhappy.Agneshasmyconfidencecompletely,always;Itellherallaboutthebutcher,andthewrongshehasheapeduponme;shethinksIcouldn’thavedoneotherwisethanfightthebutcher,whilesheshrinksandtremblesatmyhavingfoughthim.

           Timehasstolenonunobserved,forAdamsisnotthehead-boyinthedaysthatarecomenow,norhashebeenthismanyandmanyaday.Adamshaslefttheschoolsolong,thatwhenhecomesback,onavisittoDoctorStrong,therearenotmanythere,besidesmyself,whoknowhim.Adamsisgoingtobecalledtothebaralmostdirectly,andistobeanadvocate,andtowearawig.

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