Дэвид Копперфильд

The Beginning of a Long Journey

           Itwasnotatriflingbusinesstogetthegreatumbrellaup,andproperlybalancedinhergrasp;butatlastIsuccessfullyaccomplishedthis,andsawitgobobbingdownthestreetthroughtherain,withouttheleastappearanceofhavinganybodyunderneathit,exceptwhenaheavierfallthanusualfromsomeover-chargedwater-spoutsentittopplingover,ononeside,anddiscoveredMissMowcherstrugglingviolentlytogetitright.Aftermakingoneortwosalliestoherrelief,whichwererenderedfutilebytheumbrella’shoppingonagain,likeanimmensebird,beforeIcouldreachit,Icamein,wenttobed,andslepttillmorning.

           InthemorningIwasjoinedbyMr.Peggottyandbymyoldnurse,andwewentatanearlyhourtothecoachoffice,whereMrs.GummidgeandHamwerewaitingtotakeleaveofus.

           ‘Mas’rDavy,’Hamwhispered,drawingmeaside,whileMr.Peggottywasstowinghisbagamongtheluggage,‘hislifeisquitebrokeup.Hedoen’tknowwheerhe’sgoing;hedoen’tknowwhat’saforehim;he’sbounduponavoyagethat’lllast,onandoff,alltherestofhisdays,takemywuredfor‘t,unlesshefindswhathe’saseekingof.Iamsureyou’llbeafriendtohim,Mas’rDavy?’

           ‘Trustme,Iwillindeed,’saidI,shakinghandswithHamearnestly.

           ‘Thankee.Thankee,verykind,sir.Onethingfurder.I’mingoodemploy,youknow,Mas’rDavy,andIhan’tnowaynowofspendingwhatIgets.Money’sofnousetomenomore,excepttolive.

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