Дэвид Копперфильд

I Become Neglected, and Am Provided for

           Peggotty’sinquiringwhy,rumpledherhairalloverherfacetohideit,andcoulddonothingbutlaugh.

           ‘Alittlepuss,itis!’saidMr.Peggotty,pattingherwithhisgreathand.

           ‘Sosh’is!sosh’is!’criedHam.‘Mas’rDavybor’,sosh’is!’andhesatandchuckledatherforsometime,inastateofmingledadmirationanddelight,thatmadehisfaceaburningred.

           LittleEm’lywasspoiledbythemall,infact;andbynoonemorethanMr.Peggottyhimself,whomshecouldhavecoaxedintoanything,byonlygoingandlayinghercheekagainsthisroughwhisker.Thatwasmyopinion,atleast,whenIsawherdoit;andIheldMr.Peggottytobethoroughlyintheright.Butshewassoaffectionateandsweet-natured,andhadsuchapleasantmannerofbeingbothslyandshyatonce,thatshecaptivatedmemorethanever.

           Shewastender-hearted,too;forwhen,aswesatroundthefireaftertea,anallusionwasmadebyMr.PeggottyoverhispipetothelossIhadsustained,thetearsstoodinhereyes,andshelookedatmesokindlyacrossthetable,thatIfeltquitethankfultoher.

           ‘Ah!’saidMr.Peggotty,takinguphercurls,andrunningthemoverhishandlikewater,‘here’sanotherorphan,yousee,sir.Andhere,’saidMr.Peggotty,givingHamabackhandedknockinthechest,‘isanotherof‘em,thoughhedon’tlookmuchlikeit.’

           ‘IfIhadyouformyguardian,Mr.

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