david copperfield(大卫.科波维尔)-第18章

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We　looked　back；　and　he　was　standing　at　the　door　of　a　little　
lodge；　where　he　lived；　with　a　pair　of　boots　in　his　hand。　

‘Here！　The　cobbler’s　been；’　he　said；　‘since　you’ve　been　out；　Mr。　
Mell；　and　he　says　he　can’t　mend　’em　any　more。　He　says　there　ain’t　
a　bit　of　the　original　boot　left；　and　he　wonders　you　expect　it。’　

With　these　words　he　threw　the　boots　towards　Mr。　Mell；　who　
went　back　a　few　paces　to　pick　them　up；　and　looked　at　them　（very　
disconsolately；　I　was　afraid）；　as　we　went　on　together。　I　observed　
then；　for　the　first　time；　that　the　boots　he　had　on　were　a　good　deal　
the　worse　for　wear；　and　that　his　stocking　was　just　breaking　out　in　
one　place；　like　a　bud。　

Salem　House　was　a　square　brick　building　with　wings；　of　a　bare　
and　unfurnished　appearance。　All　about　it　was　so　very　quiet；　that　I　
said　to　Mr。　Mell　I　supposed　the　boys　were　out；　but　he　seemed　
surprised　at　my　not　knowing　that　it　was　holiday…time。　That　all　the　
boys　were　at　their　several　homes。　That　Mr。　Creakle；　the　
proprietor；　was　down　by　the　sea…side　with　Mrs。　and　Miss　Creakle；　
and　that　I　was　sent　in　holiday…time　as　a　punishment　for　my　
misdoing；　all　of　which　he　explained　to　me　as　we　went　along。　

I　gazed　upon　the　schoolroom　into　which　he　took　me；　as　the　
most　forlorn　and　desolate　place　I　had　ever　seen。　I　see　it　now。　A　
long　room　with　three　long　rows　of　desks；　and　six　of　forms；　and　
bristling　all　round　with　pegs　for　hats　and　slates。　Scraps　of　old　
copy…books　and　exercises　litter　the　dirty　floor。　Some　silkworms’　
houses；　made　of　the　same　materials；　are　scattered　over　the　desks。　
Two　miserable　little　white　mice；　left　behind　by　their　owner；　are　

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running　up　and　down　in　a　fusty　castle　made　of　pasteboard　and　
wire；　looking　in　all　the　corners　with　their　red　eyes　for　anything　to　
eat。　A　bird；　in　a　cage　very　little　bigger　than　himself；　makes　a　
mournful　rattle　now　and　then　in　hopping　on　his　perch；　two　inches　
high；　or　dropping　from　it；　but　neither　sings　nor　chirps。　There　is　a　
strange　unwholesome　smell　upon　the　room；　like　mildewed　
corduroys；　sweet　apples　wanting　air；　and　rotten　books。　There　
could　not　well　be　more　ink　splashed　about　it；　if　it　had　been　roofless　
from　its　first　construction；　and　the　skies　had　rained；　snowed；　
hailed；　and　blown　ink　through　the　varying　seasons　of　the　year。　

Mr。　Mell　having　left　me　while　he　took　his　irreparable　boots　
upstairs；　I　went　softly　to　the　upper　end　of　the　room；　observing　all　
this　as　I　crept　along。　Suddenly　I　came　upon　a　pasteboard　placard；　
beautifully　written；　which　was　lying　on　the　desk；　and　bore　these　
words：　‘Take　care　of　him。　He　bites。’　

I　got　upon　the　desk　immediately；　apprehensive　of　at　least　a　
great　dog　underneath。　But；　though　I　looked　all　round　with　anxious　
eyes；　I　could　see　nothing　of　him。　I　was　still　engaged　in　peering　
about；　when　Mr。　Mell　came　back；　and　asked　me　what　I　did　up　
there？　

‘I　beg　your　pardon；　sir；’　says　I；　‘if　you　please；　I’m　looking　for　the　
dog。’　

‘Dog？’　he　says。　‘What　dog？’　

‘Isn’t　it　a　dog；　sir？’　

‘Isn’t　what　a　dog？’　

‘That’s　to　be　taken　care　of；　sir；　that　bites。’　

‘No；　Copperfield；’　says　he；　gravely；　‘that’s　not　a　dog。　That’s　a　
boy。　My　instructions　are；　Copperfield；　to　put　this　placard　on　your　
back。　I　am　sorry　to　make　such　a　beginning　with　you；　but　I　must　do　

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it。’　With　that　he　took　me　down；　and　tied　the　placard；　which　was　
neatly　constructed　for　the　purpose；　on　my　shoulders　like　a　
knapsack；　and　wherever　I　went；　afterwards；　I　had　the　consolation　
of　carrying　it。　

What　I　suffered　from　that　placard；　nobody　can　imagine。　
Whether　it　was　possible　for　people　to　see　me　or　not；　I　always　
fancied　that　somebody　was　reading　it。　It　was　no　relief　to　turn　
round　and　find　nobody；　for　wherever　my　back　was；　there　I　
imagined　somebody　always　to　be。　That　cruel　man　with　the　wooden　
leg　aggravated　my　sufferings。　He　was　in　authority；　and　if　he　ever　
saw　me　leaning　against　a　tree；　or　a　wall；　or　the　house；　he　roared　
out　from　his　lodge　door　in　a　stupendous　voice；　‘Hallo；　you　sir！　You　
Copperfield！　Show　that　badge　conspicuous；　or　I’ll　report　you！’　The　
playground　was　a　bare　gravelled　yard；　open　to　all　the　back　of　the　
house　and　the　offices；　and　I　knew　that　the　servants　read　it；　and　the　
butcher　read　it；　and　the　baker　read　it；　that　everybody；　in　a　word；　
who　came　backwards　and　forwards　to　the　house；　of　a　morning　
when　I　was　ordered　to　walk　there；　read　that　I　was　to　be　taken　care　
of；　for　I　bit；　I　recollect　that　I　positively　began　to　have　a　dread　of　
myself；　as　a　kind　of　wild　boy　who　did　bite。　

There　was　an　old　door　in　this　playground；　on　which　the　boys　
had　a　custom　of　carving　their　names。　It　was　completely　covered　
with　such　inscriptions。　In　my　dread　of　the　end　of　the　vacation　and　
their　coming　back；　I　could　not　read　a　boy’s　name；　without　
inquiring　in　what　tone　and　with　what　emphasis　he　would　read；　
‘Take　care　of　him。　He　bites。’　There　was　one　boy—a　certain　J。　
Steerforth—who　cut　his　name　very　deep　and　very　often；　who；　I　
conceived；　would　read　it　in　a　rather　strong　voice；　and　afterwards　
pull　my　hair。　There　was　another　boy；　one　Tommy　Traddles；　who　I　

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dreaded　would　make　game　of　it；　and　pretend　to　be　dreadfully　
frightened　of　me。　There　was　a　third；　George　Demple；　who　I　fancied　
would　sing　it。　I　have　looked；　a　little　shrinking　creature；　at　that　
door；　until　the　owners　of　all　the　names—there　were　five…and…forty　
of　them　in　the　school　then；　Mr。　Mell　said—seemed　to　send　me　to　
Coventry　by　general　acclamation；　and　to　cry　out；　each　in　his　own　
way；　‘Take　care　of　him。　He　bites！’　

It　was　the　same　with　the　places　at　the　desks　and　forms。　It　was　
the　same　with　the　groves　of　deserted　bedsteads　I　peeped　at；　on　my　
way　to；　and　when　I　was　in；　my　own　bed。　I　remember　dreaming　
night　after　night；　of　being　with　my　mother　as　she　used　to　be；　or　of　
going　to　a　party　at　Mr。　Peggotty’s；　or　of　travelling　outside　the　
stage…coach；　or　of　dining　again　with　my　unfortunate　friend　the　
waiter；　and　in　all　these　circumstances　making　people　scream　and　
stare；　by　the　unhappy　disclosure　that　I　had　nothing　on　but　my　
little　night…shirt；　and　that　placard。　

In　the　monotony　of　my　life；　and　in　my　constant　apprehension　of　
the　re…opening　of　the　school；　it　was　such　an　insupportable　
affliction！　I　had　long　tasks　every　day　to　do　with　Mr。　Mell；　but　I　did　
them；　there　being　no　Mr。　and　Miss　Murdstone　here；　and　got　
through　them　without　disgrace。　Before；　and　after　them；　I　walked　
about—supervised；　as　I　have　mentioned；　by　the　man　with　the　
wooden　leg。　How　vividly　I　call　to　mind　the　damp　about　the　house；　
the　green　cracked　flagstones　in　the　court；　an　old　leaky　water…butt；　
and　the　discoloured　trunks　of　some　of　the　grim　trees；　which　
seemed　to　have　dripped　more　in　the　rain　than　other　trees；　and　to　
have　blown　less　in　the　sun！　At　one　we　dined；　Mr。　Mell　and　I；　at　the　
upper　end　of　a　long　bare　dining…room；　full　of　deal　tables；　and　
smelling　of　fat。　Then；　we　had　more　tasks　until　tea；　which　Mr。　Mell　

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drank　out　of　a　blue　teacup；　and　I　out　of　a　tin　pot。　All　day　long；　and　
until　seven　or　eight　in　the　evening；　Mr。　Mell；　at　his　own　detached　
desk　in　the　schoolroom；　worked　hard　with　pen；　ink；　ruler；　books；　
and　writing…paper；　making　out　the　bills　（as　I　found）　for　last　half…
year。　When　he　had　put　up　his　things　for　the　night　he　took　out　his　
flute；　and　blew　at　it；　until　I　almost　thought　he　would　gradually　
blow　his　whole　being　into　the　large　hole　at　the　top；　and　ooze　away　
at　the　keys。　

I　picture　my　small　self　in　the　dimly…lighted　rooms；　sitting　with　
my　head　upon　my　hand；　listening　to　the　doleful　performance　of　
Mr。　Mell；　and　conning　tomorrow’s　lessons。　I　picture　myself　with　
my　books　shut　up；　still　listening　to　the　doleful　performance　of　Mr。　
Mell；　and　listening　through　it　to　what　used　to　be　at　home；　and　to　
the　blowing　of　the　wind　on　Yarmouth　flats；　and　feeling　very　sad　
and　solitary。　I　picture　myself　going　up　to　bed；　among　the　unused　
rooms；　and　sitting　on　my　bed…side　crying　for　a　comfortable　word　
from　Peggotty。　I　picture　myself　coming　downstairs　in　the　morning；　
and　looking　through　a　long　ghastly　gash　of　a　staircase　window　at　
the　school…bell　hanging　on　the　top　of　an　out…house　with　a　
weathercock　above　it；　and　dreading　the　time　when　it　shall　ring　J。　
Steerforth　and　the　rest　to　work：　which　is　only　second；　in　my　
foreboding　apprehensions；　to　the　time　when　the　man　with　the　
wooden　leg　shall　unlock　the　rusty　gate　to　give　admission　to　the　
awful　Mr。　Creakle。　I　cannot　think　I　was　a　very　dangerous　
character　in　any　of　these　aspects；　but　in　all　of　them　I　carried　the　
same　warning　on　my　back。　

Mr。　Mell　never　said　much　to　me；　but　he　was　never　harsh　to　me。　
I　suppose　we　were　company　to　each　other；　without　talking。　I　forgot　
to　mention　that　he　would　talk　to　himself　sometimes；　and　grin；　and　

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clench　his　fist；　and　grind　his　teeth；　and　pull　his　hair　in　an　
unaccountable　manner。　But　he　had　these　peculiarities：　and　at　first　
they　frightened　me；　though　I　soon　got　used　to　them。　

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Chapter　6　

I　ENLARGE　MY　CIRCLE　OF　ACQUAINTANCE　

Ihad　led　this　life　about　a　month；　when　the　man　with　the　
wooden　leg　began　to　stump　about　with　a　mop　and　a　bucket　of　
water；　from　which　I　inferred　that　preparations　were　making　
to　receive　Mr。　Creakle　and　the　boys。　I　was　not　mistaken；　for　the　
mop　came　into　the　schoolroom　before　long；　and　turned　out　Mr。　
Mell　and　me；　who　lived　where　we　could；　and　got　on　how　we　could；　
for　some　days；　during　which　we　were　always　in　the　way　of　two　or　
three　young　women；　who　had　rarely　shown　themselves　before；　and　
were　so　continually　in　the　midst　of　dust　that　I　sneezed　almost　as　
much　as　if　Salem　House　had　been　a　great　snuff…box。　

One　day　I　was　informed　by　Mr。　Mell　that　Mr。　Creakle　would　be　
home　that　evening。　In　the　evening；　after　tea；　I　heard　that　he　was　
come。　Before　bedtime；　I　was　fetched　by　the　man　with　the　wooden　
leg　to　appear　before　him。　

Mr。　Creakle’s　part　of　the　house　was　a　good　deal　more　
comfortable　than　ours；　and　he　had　a　snug　bit　of　garden　that　looked　
pleasant　after　the　dusty　playground；　which　was　such　a　desert　in　
miniature；　that　I　thought　no　one　but　a　camel；　or　a　dromedary；　
could　have　felt　at　home　in　it。　It　seemed　to　me　a　bold　thing　even　to　
take　notice　that　the　passage　looked　comfortable；　as　I　went　on　my　
way；　trembling；　to　Mr。　Creakle’s　presence：　which　so　abashed　me；　
when　I　was　ushered　into　it；　that　I　hardly　saw　Mrs。　Creakle　or　Miss　
Creakle　（who　were　both　there；　in　the　parlour）；　or　anything　but　Mr。　
Creakle；　a　stout　gentleman　with　a　bunch　of　watch…chain　and　seals；　

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in　an　arm…chair；　with　a　tumbler　and　bottle　beside　him。　

‘So！’　said　Mr。　Creakle。　‘This　is　the　young　gentleman　whose　
teeth　are　to　be　filed！　Turn　him　round。’　

The　wooden…legged　man　turned　me　about　so　as　to　exhibit　the