david copperfield(大卫.科波维尔)-第24章

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recollection　rises　fresh　upon　me。　Once　more　the　little　room；　with　
its　open　corner　cupboard；　and　its　square…backed　chairs；　and　its　
angular　little　staircase　leading　to　the　room　above；　and　its　three　
peacock’s　feathers　displayed　over　the　mantelpiece—I　remember　
wondering　when　I　first　went　in；　what　that　peacock　would　have　
thought　if　he　had　known　what　his　finery　was　doomed　to　come　to—　
fades　from　before　me；　and　I　nod；　and　sleep。　The　flute　becomes　
inaudible；　the　wheels　of　the　coach　are　heard　instead；　and　I　am　on　
my　journey。　The　coach　jolts；　I　wake　with　a　start；　and　the　flute　has　
come　back　again；　and　the　Master　at　Salem　House　is　sitting　with　his　
legs　crossed；　playing　it　dolefully；　while　the　old　woman　of　the　house　
looks　on　delighted。　She　fades　in　her　turn；　and　he　fades；　and　all　
fades；　and　there　is　no　flute；　no　Master；　no　Salem　House；　no　David　
Copperfield；　no　anything　but　heavy　sleep。　

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David　Copperfield　

I　dreamed；　I　thought；　that　once　while　he　was　blowing　into　this　
dismal　flute；　the　old　woman　of　the　house；　who　had　gone　nearer　
and　nearer　to　him　in　her　ecstatic　admiration；　leaned　over　the　back　
of　his　chair　and　gave　him　an　affectionate　squeeze　round　the　neck；　
which　stopped　his　playing　for　a　moment。　I　was　in　the　middle　state　
between　sleeping　and　waking；　either　then　or　immediately　
afterwards；　for；　as　he　resumed—it　was　a　real　fact　that　he　had　
stopped　playing—I　saw　and　heard　the　same　old　woman　ask　Mrs。　
Fibbitson　if　it　wasn’t　delicious　（meaning　the　flute）；　to　which　Mrs。　
Fibbitson　replied；　‘Ay；　ay！　yes！’　and　nodded　at　the　fire：　to　which；　I　
am　persuaded；　she　gave　the　credit　of　the　whole　performance。　

When　I　seemed　to　have　been　dozing　a　long　while；　the　Master　at　
Salem　House　unscrewed　his　flute　into　the　three　pieces；　put　them　
up　as　before；　and　took　me　away。　We　found　the　coach　very　near　at　
hand；　and　got　upon　the　roof；　but　I　was　so　dead　sleepy；　that　when　
we　stopped　on　the　road　to　take　up　somebody　else；　they　put　me　
inside　where　there　were　no　passengers；　and　where　I　slept　
profoundly；　until　I　found　the　coach　going　at　a　footpace　up　a　steep　
hill　among　green　leaves。　Presently；　it　stopped；　and　had　come　to　its　
destination。　

A　short　walk　brought　us—I　mean　the　Master　and　me—to　Salem　
House；　which　was　enclosed　with　a　high　brick　wall；　and　looked　very　
dull。　Over　a　door　in　this　wall　was　a　board　with　SALEM　HOUSE　
upon　it；　and　through　a　grating　in　this　door　we　were　surveyed　when　
we　rang　the　bell　by　a　surly　face；　which　I　found；　on　the　door　being　
opened；　belonged　to　a　stout　man　with　a　bull…neck；　a　wooden　leg；　
overhanging　temples；　and　his　hair　cut　close　all　round　his　head。　

‘The　new　boy；’　said　the　Master。　

The　man　with　the　wooden　leg　eyed　me　all　over—it　didn’t　take　

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David　Copperfield　

long；　for　there　was　not　much　of　me—and　locked　the　gate　behind　
us；　and　took　out　the　key。　We　were　going　up　to　the　house；　among　
some　dark　heavy　trees；　when　he　called　after　my　conductor。　‘Hallo！’　

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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David　Copperfield　

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　
conceiv