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when I went to meet her, stole home another way, and was
laughing at the door when I came back, disappointed. The best
times were when she sat quietly at work in the doorway, and I sat
on the wooden step at her feet, reading to her. It seems to me, at
this hour, that I have never seen such sunlight as on those bright
April afternoons; that I have never seen such a sunny little figure
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David Copperfield 203
as I used to see, sitting in the doorway of the old boat; that I have
never beheld such sky, such water, such glorified ships sailing
away into gol**ir.
On the very first evening after our arrival, Mr. Barkis appeared
in an exceedingly vacant and awkward condition, and with a
bundle of oranges tied up in a handkerchief. As he made no
allusion of any kind to this property, he was supposed to have left
it behind him by accident when he went away; until Ham, running
after him to restore it, came back with the information that it was
intended for Peggotty. After that occasion he appeared every
evening at exactly the same hour, and always with a little bundle,
to which he never alluded, and which he regularly put behind the
door and left there. These offerings of affection were of a most
various and eccentric deion. Among them I remember a
double set of pigs’ trotters, a huge pin-cushion, half a bushel or so
of apples, a pair of jet earrings, some Spanish onions, a box of
dominoes, a canary bird and cage, and a leg of pickled pork.
Mr. Barkis’s wooing, as I remember it, was altogether of a
peculiar kind. He very seldom said anything; but would sit by the
fire in much the same attitude as he sat in his cart, and stare
heavily at Peggotty, who was opposite. One night, being, as I
suppose, inspired by love, he made a dart at the bit of wax-candle
she kept for her thread, and put it in his waistcoat-pocket and
carried it off. After that, his great delight was to produce it when it
was wanted, sticking to the lining of his pocket, in a partially
melted state, and pocket it again when it was done with. He
seemed to enjoy himself very much, and not to feel at all called
upon to talk. Even when he took Peggotty out for a walk on the
flats, he had no uneasiness on that head, I believe; contenting
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David Copperfield
himself with now and then asking her if she was pretty
comfortable; and I remember that sometimes, after he was gone,
Peggotty would throw her apron over her face, and laugh for half-
an-hour. Indeed, we were all more or less amused, except that
miserable Mrs. Gummidge, whose courtship would appear to have
been of an exactly parallel nature, she was so continually
reminded by these transactions of the old one.
At length, when the term of my visit was nearly expired, it was
given out that Peggotty and Mr. Barkis were going to make a day’s
holiday together, and that little Em’ly and I were to accompany
them. I had but a broken sleep the night before, in anticipation of
the pleasure of a whole day with Em’ly. We were all astir betimes
in the morning; and while we were yet at breakfast, Mr. Barkis
appeared in the distance, driving a chaise-cart towards the object
of his affections.
Peggotty was dressed as usual, in her neat and quiet mourning;
but Mr. Barkis bloomed in a new blue coat, of which the tailor had
given him such good measure, that the cuffs would have rendered
gloves unnecessary in the coldest weather, while the collar was so
high that it pushed his hair up on end on the top of his head. His
bright buttons, too, were of the largest size. Rendered complete by
drab pantaloons and a buff waistcoat, I thought Mr. Barkis a
phenomenon of respectability.
When we were all in a bustle outside the door, I found that Mr.
Peggotty was pr
