Дэвид Копперфильд

I Am Born

           Ihaveunderstoodthatitwas,tothelast,herproudestboast,thatsheneverhadbeenonthewaterinherlife,exceptuponabridge;andthatoverhertea(towhichshewasextremelypartial)she,tothelast,expressedherindignationattheimpietyofmarinersandothers,whohadthepresumptiontogo‘meandering’abouttheworld.Itwasinvaintorepresenttoherthatsomeconveniences,teaperhapsincluded,resultedfromthisobjectionablepractice.Shealwaysreturned,withgreateremphasisandwithaninstinctiveknowledgeofthestrengthofherobjection,‘Letushavenomeandering.’

           Nottomeandermyself,atpresent,Iwillgobacktomybirth.

           IwasbornatBlunderstone,inSuffolk,or‘thereby’,astheysayinScotland.Iwasaposthumouschild.Myfather’seyeshadcloseduponthelightofthisworldsixmonths,whenmineopenedonit.Thereissomethingstrangetome,evennow,inthereflectionthatheneversawme;andsomethingstrangeryetintheshadowyremembrancethatIhaveofmyfirstchildishassociationswithhiswhitegrave-stoneinthechurchyard,andoftheindefinablecompassionIusedtofeelforitlyingoutalonethereinthedarknight,whenourlittleparlourwaswarmandbrightwithfireandcandle,andthedoorsofourhousewerealmostcruelly,itseemedtomesometimesboltedandlockedagainstit.

           Anauntofmyfather’s,andconsequentlyagreat-auntofmine,ofwhomIshallhavemoretorelatebyandby,wastheprincipalmagnateofourfamily.

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