The carrier's horse was the laziest horse in the world, I should hope,and shuffled along, with his head down, as if he liked to keep peoplewaiting to whom the packages were directed. I fancied, indeed, that hesometimes chuckled audibly over this reflection, but the carrier saidhe was only troubled with a cough. The carrier had a way of keeping hishead down, like his horse, and of drooping sleepily forward as he drove,with one of his arms on each of his knees. I say 'drove', but it struckme that the cart would have gone to Yarmouth quite as well without him,for the horse did all that; and as to conversation, he had no idea of itbut whistling.

Peggotty had a basket of refreshments on her knee, which would havelasted us out handsomely, if we had been going to London by the sameconveyance. We ate a good deal, and slept a good deal. Peggotty alwayswent to sleep with her chin upon the handle of the basket, her hold ofwhich never relaxed; and I could not have believed unless I had heardher do it, that one defenceless woman could have snored so much.

We made so many deviations up and down lanes, and were such a long timedelivering a bedstead at a public-house, and calling at other places,that I was quite tired, and very glad, when we saw Yarmouth. It lookedrather spongy and soppy, I thought, as I carried my eye over the greatdull waste that lay across the river; and I could not help wondering, ifthe world were really as round as my geography book said, how anypart of it came to be so flat. But I reflected that Yarmouth might besituated at one of the poles; which would account for it.

As we drew a little nearer, and saw the whole adjacent prospect lying astraight low line under the sky, I hinted to Peggotty that a mound or somight have improved it; and also that if the land had been a little moreseparated from the sea, and the town and the tide had not been quiteso much mixed up, like toast and water, it would have been nicer. ButPeggotty said, with greater emphasis than usual, that we must takethings as we found them, and that, for her part, she was proud to callherself a Yarmouth Bloater.

When we got into the street (which was strange enough to me) and smeltthe fish, and pitch, and oakum, and tar, and saw the sailors walkingabout, and the carts jingling up and down over the stones, I felt that Ihad done so busy a place an injustice; and said as much to Peggotty, whoheard my expressions of delight with great complacency, and told me itwas well known (I suppose to those who had the good fortune to be bornBloaters) that Yarmouth was, upon the whole, the finest place in theuniverse.

'Here's my Am!' screamed Peggotty, 'growed out of knowledge!'

He was waiting for us, in fact, at the public-house; and asked me how Ifound myself, like an old acquaintance. I did not feel, at first, thatI knew him as well as he knew me, because he had never come to our housesince the night I was born, and naturally he had the advantage of me.But our intimacy was much advanced by his taking me on his back to carryme home. He was, now, a huge, strong fellow of six feet high, broad inproportion, and round-shouldered; but with a simpering boy's face andcurly light hair that gave him quite a sheepish look. He was dressed ina canvas jacket, and a pair of such very stiff trousers that theywould have stood quite as well alone, without any legs in them. And youcouldn't so properly have said he wore a hat, as that he was covered ina-top, like an old building, with something pitchy.

Ham carrying me on his back and a small box of ours under his arm,and Peggotty carrying another small box of ours, we turned down lanesbestrewn with bits of chips and little hillocks of sand, and wentpast gas-works, rope-walks, boat-builders' yards, shipwrights' yards,ship-breakers' yards, caulkers' yards, riggers' lofts, smiths' forges,and a great litter of such places, until we came out upon the dull wasteI had already seen at a distance; when Ham said,

'Yon's our house, Mas'r Davy!'

I looked in all directions, as far as I could stare over the wilderness,and away at the sea, and away at the river, but no house could I makeout. There was a black barge, or some other kind of superannuated boat,not far off, high and dry on the ground, with an iron funnel stickingout of it for a chimney and smoking very cosily; but nothing else in theway of a habitation that was visible to me.

'That's not it?' said I. 'That ship-looking thing?'

'That's it, Mas'r Davy,' returned Ham.

If it had been Aladdin's palace, roc's egg and all, I suppose I couldnot have been more charmed with the romantic idea of living in it. Therewas a delightful door cut in the side, and it was roofed in, and therewere little windows in it; but the wonderful charm of it was, thatit was a real boat which had no doubt been upon the water hundreds oftimes, and which had never been intended to be lived in, on dry land.That was the captivation of it to me. If it had ever been meant to belived in, I might have thought it small, or inconvenient, or lonely; butnever having been designed for any such use, it became a perfect abode.

It was beautifully clean inside, and as tidy as possible. There was atable, and a Dutch clock, and a chest of drawers, and on the chest ofdrawers there was a tea-tray with a painting on it of a lady with aparasol, taking a walk with a military-looking child who was trundling ahoop. The tray was kept from tumbling down, by a bible; and the tray, ifit had tumbled down, would have smashed a quantity of cups and saucersand a teapot that were grouped around the book. On the walls there weresome common coloured pictures, framed and glazed, of scripture subjects;such as I have never seen since in the hands of pedlars, without seeingthe whole interior of Peggotty's brother's house again, at one view.Abraham in red going to sacrifice Isaac in blue, and Daniel in yellowcast into a den of green lions, were the most prominent of these. Overthe little mantelshelf, was a picture of the 'Sarah Jane' lugger, builtat Sunderland, with a real little wooden stern stuck on to it; a work ofart, combining composition with carpentry, which I considered to be oneof the most enviable possessions that the world could afford. Therewere some hooks in the beams of the ceiling, the use of which I did notdivine then; and some lockers and boxes and conveniences of that sort,which served for seats and eked out the chairs.

All this I saw in the first glance after I crossed thethreshold--child-like, according to my theory--and then Peggotty openeda little door and showed me my bedroom. It was the completest and mostdesirable bedroom ever seen--in the stern of the vessel; with a littlewindow, where the rudder used to go through; a little looking-glass,just the right height for me, nailed against the wall, and framed withoyster-shells; a little bed, which there was just room enough to getinto; and a nosegay of seaweed in a blue mug on the table. The wallswere whitewashed as white as milk, and the patchwork counterpane made myeyes quite ache with its brightness. One thing I particularly noticedin this delightful house, was the smell of fish; which was so searching,that when I took out my pocket-handkerchief to wipe my nose, I found itsmelt exactly as if it had wrapped up a lobster. On my imparting thisdiscovery in confidence to Peggotty, she informed me that her brotherdealt in lobsters, crabs, and crawfish; and I afterwards found that aheap of these creatures, in a state of wonderful conglomeration with oneanother, and never leaving off pinching whatever they laid hold of,were usually to be found in a little wooden outhouse where the pots andkettles were kept.

We were welcomed by a very civil woman in a white apron, whom I had seencurtseying at the door when I was on Ham's back, about a quarter of amile off. Likewise by a most beautiful little girl (or I thought her so)with a necklace of blue beads on, who wouldn't let me kiss her when Ioffered to, but ran away and hid herself. By and by, when we had dinedin a sumptuous manner off boiled dabs, melted butter, and potatoes, witha chop for me, a hairy man with a very good-natured face came home. Ashe called Peggotty 'Lass', and gave her a hearty smack on the cheek, Ihad no doubt, from the general propriety of her conduct, that he was herbrother; and so he turned out--being presently introduced to me as Mr.Peggotty, the master of the house.

'Glad to see you, sir,' said Mr. Peggotty. 'You'll find us rough, sir,but you'll find us ready.'

I thanked him, and replied that I was sure I should be happy in such adelightful place.

'How's your Ma, sir?' said Mr. Peggotty. 'Did you leave her prettyjolly?'

I gave Mr. Peggotty to understand that she was as jolly as I could wish,and that she desired her compliments--which was a polite fiction on mypart.

'I'm much obleeged to her, I'm sure,' said Mr. Peggotty. 'Well, sir,if you can make out here, fur a fortnut, 'long wi' her,' nodding at hissister, 'and Ham, and little Em'ly, we shall be proud of your company.'

Having done the honours of his house in this hospitable manner, Mr.Peggotty went out to wash himself in a kettleful of hot water, remarkingthat 'cold would never get his muck off'. He soon returned, greatlyimproved in appearance; but so rubicund, that I couldn't helpthinking his face had this in common with the lobsters, crabs, andcrawfish,--that it went into the hot water very black, and came out veryred.

After tea, when the door was shut and all was made snug (the nightsbeing cold and misty now), it seemed to me the most delicious retreatthat the imagination of man could conceive. To hear the wind gettingup out at sea, to know that the fog was creeping over the desolate flatoutside, and to look at the fire, and think that there was no house nearbut this one, and this one a boat, was like enchantment. Little Em'lyhad overcome her shyness, and was sitting by my side upon the lowest andleast of the lockers, which was just large enough for us two, and justfitted into the chimney corner. Mrs. Peggotty with the white apron, wasknitting on the opposite side of the fire. Peggotty at her needleworkwas as much at home with St. Paul's and the bit of wax-candle, as ifthey had never known any other roof. Ham, who had been giving me myfirst lesson in all-fours, was trying to recollect a scheme of tellingfortunes with the dirty cards, and was printing off fishy impressions ofhis thumb on all the cards he turned. Mr. Peggotty was smoking his pipe.I felt it was a time for conversation and confidence.

'Mr. Peggotty!' says I.

'Sir,' says he.

'Did you give your son the name of Ham, because you lived in a sort ofark?'

Mr. Peggotty seemed to think it a deep idea, but answered:

'No, sir. I never giv him no name.'

'Who gave him that name, then?' said I, putting question number two ofthe catechism to Mr. Peggotty.

'Why, sir, his father giv it him,' said Mr. Peggotty.

'I thought you were his father!'

'My brother Joe was his father,' said Mr. Peggotty.

'Dead, Mr. Peggotty?' I hinted, after a respectful pause.

'Drowndead,' said Mr. Peggotty.

I was very much surprised that Mr. Peggotty was not Ham's father, andbegan to wonder whether I was mistaken about his relationship to anybodyelse there. I was so curious to know, that I made up my mind to have itout with Mr. Peggotty.

'Little Em'ly,' I said, glancing at her. 'She is your daughter, isn'tshe, Mr. Peggotty?'

'No, sir. My brother-in-law, Tom, was her father.'

I couldn't help it. '--Dead, Mr. Peggotty?' I hinted, after anotherrespectful silence.

'Drowndead,' said Mr. Peggotty.

I felt the difficulty of resuming the subject, but had not got to thebottom of it yet, and must get to the bottom somehow. So I said:

'Haven't you ANY children, Mr. Peggotty?'

'No, master,' he answered with a short laugh. 'I'm a bacheldore.'

'A bachelor!' I said, astonished. 'Why, who's that, Mr. Peggotty?'pointing to the person in the apron who was knitting.

'That's Missis Gummidge,' said Mr. Peggotty.

'Gummidge, Mr. Peggotty?'

But at this point Peggotty--I mean my own peculiar Peggotty--made suchimpressive motions to me not to ask any more questions, that I couldonly sit and look at all the silent company, until it was time to go tobed. Then, in the privacy of my own little cabin, she informed me thatHam and Em'ly were an orphan nephew and niece, whom my host hadat different times adopted in their childhood, when they were leftdestitute: and that Mrs. Gummidge was the widow of his partner ina boat, who had died very poor. He was but a poor man himself, saidPeggotty, but as good as gold and as true as steel--those were hersimiles. The only subject, she informed me, on which he ever showed aviolent temper or swore an oath, was this generosity of his; and if itwere ever referred to, by any one of them, he struck the table a heavyblow with his right hand (had split it on one such occasion), and sworea dreadful oath that he would be 'Gormed' if he didn't cut and runfor good, if it was ever mentioned again. It appeared, in answer tomy inquiries, that nobody had the least idea of the etymology of thisterrible verb passive to be gormed; but that they all regarded it asconstituting a most solemn imprecation.

I was very sensible of my entertainer's goodness, and listened to thewomen's going to bed in another little crib like mine at the oppositeend of the boat, and to him and Ham hanging up two hammocks forthemselves on the hooks I had noticed in the roof, in a very luxuriousstate of mind, enhanced by my being sleepy. As slumber gradually stoleupon me, I heard the wind howling out at sea and coming on across theflat so fiercely, that I had a lazy apprehension of the great deeprising in the night. But I bethought myself that I was in a boat, afterall; and that a man like Mr. Peggotty was not a bad person to have onboard if anything did happen.

Nothing happened, however, worse than morning. Almost as soon as itshone upon the oyster-shell frame of my mirror I was out of bed, and outwith little Em'ly, picking up stones upon the beach.

'You're quite a sailor, I suppose?' I said to Em'ly. I don't know that Isupposed anything of the kind, but I felt it an act of gallantry tosay something; and a shining sail close to us made such a pretty littleimage of itself, at the moment, in her bright eye, that it came into myhead to say this.

'No,' replied Em'ly, shaking her head, 'I'm afraid of the sea.'

'Afraid!' I said, with a becoming air of boldness, and looking very bigat the mighty ocean. 'I an't!'

'Ah! but it's cruel,' said Em'ly. 'I have seen it very cruel to some ofour men. I have seen it tear a boat as big as our house, all to pieces.'

'I hope it wasn't the boat that--'

'That father was drownded in?' said Em'ly. 'No. Not that one, I neversee that boat.'

'Nor him?' I asked her.

Little Em'ly shook her head. 'Not to remember!'

Here was a coincidence! I immediately went into an explanation how I hadnever seen my own father; and how my mother and I had always livedby ourselves in the happiest state imaginable, and lived so then, andalways meant to live so; and how my father's grave was in the churchyardnear our house, and shaded by a tree, beneath the boughs of which I hadwalked and heard the birds sing many a pleasant morning. But there weresome differences between Em'ly's orphanhood and mine, it appeared. Shehad lost her mother before her father; and where her father's grave wasno one knew, except that it was somewhere in the depths of the sea.

'Besides,' said Em'ly, as she looked about for shells and pebbles, 'yourfather was a gentleman and your mother is a lady; and my father was afisherman and my mother was a fisherman's daughter, and my uncle Dan isa fisherman.'

'Dan is Mr. Peggotty, is he?' said I.

'Uncle Dan--yonder,' answered Em'ly, nodding at the boat-house.

'Yes. I mean him. He must be very good, I should think?'

'Good?' said Em'ly. 'If I was ever to be a lady, I'd give him a sky-bluecoat with diamond buttons, nankeen trousers, a red velvet waistcoat, acocked hat, a large gold watch, a silver pipe, and a box of money.'

I said I had no doubt that Mr. Peggotty well deserved these treasures.I must acknowledge that I felt it difficult to picture him quite at hisease in the raiment proposed for him by his grateful little niece, andthat I was particularly doubtful of the policy of the cocked hat; but Ikept these sentiments to myself.

Little Em'ly had stopped and looked up at the sky in her enumerationof these articles, as if they were a glorious vision. We went on again,picking up shells and pebbles.

'You would like to be a lady?' I said.

Emily looked at me, and laughed and nodded 'yes'.

'I should like it very much. We would all be gentlefolks together, then.Me, and uncle, and Ham, and Mrs. Gummidge. We wouldn't mind then, whenthere comes stormy weather.---Not for our own sakes, I mean. We wouldfor the poor fishermen's, to be sure, and we'd help 'em with money whenthey come to any hurt.' This seemed to me to be a very satisfactory andtherefore not at all improbable picture. I expressed my pleasure in thecontemplation of it, and little Em'ly was emboldened to say, shyly,

'Don't you think you are afraid of the sea, now?'

It was quiet enough to reassure me, but I have no doubt if I had seen amoderately large wave come tumbling in, I should have taken to my heels,with an awful recollection of her drowned relations. However, I said'No,' and I added, 'You don't seem to be either, though you say youare,'--for she was walking much too near the brink of a sort of oldjetty or wooden causeway we had strolled upon, and I was afraid of herfalling over.

'I'm not afraid in this way,' said little Em'ly. 'But I wake when itblows, and tremble to think of Uncle Dan and Ham and believe I hear 'emcrying out for help. That's why I should like so much to be a lady. ButI'm not afraid in this way. Not a bit. Look here!'

She started from my side, and ran along a jagged timber which protrudedfrom the place we stood upon, and overhung the deep water at someheight, without the least defence. The incident is so impressed on myremembrance, that if I were a draughtsman I could draw its form here,I dare say, accurately as it was that day, and little Em'ly springingforward to her destruction (as it appeared to me), with a look that Ihave never forgotten, directed far out to sea.

The light, bold, fluttering little figure turned and came back safeto me, and I soon laughed at my fears, and at the cry I had uttered;fruitlessly in any case, for there was no one near. But there have beentimes since, in my manhood, many times there have been, when I havethought, Is it possible, among the possibilities of hidden things, thatin the sudden rashness of the child and her wild look so far off, therewas any merciful attraction of her into danger, any tempting her towardshim permitted on the part of her dead father, that her life might havea chance of ending that day? There has been a time since when I havewondered whether, if the life before her could have been revealed to meat a glance, and so revealed as that a child could fully comprehend it,and if her preservation could have depended on a motion of my hand, Iought to have held it up to save her. There has been a time since--I donot say it lasted long, but it has been--when I have asked myself thequestion, would it have been better for little Em'ly to have had thewaters close above her head that morning in my sight; and when I haveanswered Yes, it would have been.

This may be premature. I have set it down too soon, perhaps. But let itstand.

We strolled a long way, and loaded ourselves with things that we thoughtcurious, and put some stranded starfish carefully back into the water--Ihardly know enough of the race at this moment to be quite certainwhether they had reason to feel obliged to us for doing so, or thereverse--and then made our way home to Mr. Peggotty's dwelling. Westopped under the lee of the lobster-outhouse to exchange an innocentkiss, and went in to breakfast glowing with health and pleasure.

'Like two young mavishes,' Mr. Peggotty said. I knew this meant, in ourlocal dialect, like two young thrushes, and received it as a compliment.

Of course I was in love with little Em'ly. I am sure I loved thatbaby quite as truly, quite as tenderly, with greater purity and moredisinterestedness, than can enter into the best love of a later timeof life, high and ennobling as it is. I am sure my fancy raised upsomething round that blue-eyed mite of a child, which etherealized,and made a very angel of her. If, any sunny forenoon, she had spreada little pair of wings and flown away before my eyes, I don't think Ishould have regarded it as much more than I had had reason to expect.

We used to walk about that dim old flat at Yarmouth in a loving manner,hours and hours. The days sported by us, as if Time had not grown uphimself yet, but were a child too, and always at play. I told Em'lyI adored her, and that unless she confessed she adored me I should bereduced to the necessity of killing myself with a sword. She said shedid, and I have no doubt she did.

As to any sense of inequality, or youthfulness, or other difficultyin our way, little Em'ly and I had no such trouble, because we had nofuture. We made no more provision for growing older, than we did forgrowing younger. We were the admiration of Mrs. Gummidge and Peggotty,who used to whisper of an evening when we sat, lovingly, on our littlelocker side by side, 'Lor! wasn't it beautiful!' Mr. Peggotty smiled atus from behind his pipe, and Ham grinned all the evening and did nothingelse. They had something of the sort of pleasure in us, I suppose, thatthey might have had in a pretty toy, or a pocket model of the Colosseum.

I soon found out that Mrs. Gummidge did not always make herself soagreeable as she might have been expected to do, under the circumstancesof her residence with Mr. Peggotty. Mrs. Gummidge's was rather a fretfuldisposition, and she whimpered more sometimes than was comfortable forother parties in so small an establishment. I was very sorry forher; but there were moments when it would have been more agreeable, Ithought, if Mrs. Gummidge had had a convenient apartment of her own toretire to, and had stopped there until her spirits revived.

Mr. Peggotty went occasionally to a public-house called The WillingMind. I discovered this, by his being out on the second or third eveningof our visit, and by Mrs. Gummidge's looking up at the Dutch clock,between eight and nine, and saying he was there, and that, what wasmore, she had known in the morning he would go there.

Mrs. Gummidge had been in a low state all day, and had burst into tearsin the forenoon, when the fire smoked. 'I am a lone lorn creetur',' wereMrs. Gummidge's words, when that unpleasant occurrence took place, 'andeverythink goes contrary with me.'

'Oh, it'll soon leave off,' said Peggotty--I again mean ourPeggotty--'and besides, you know, it's not more disagreeable to you thanto us.'

'I feel it more,' said Mrs. Gummidge.

It was a very cold day, with cutting blasts of wind. Mrs. Gummidge'speculiar corner of the fireside seemed to me to be the warmest andsnuggest in the place, as her chair was certainly the easiest, but itdidn't suit her that day at all. She was constantly complaining of thecold, and of its occasioning a visitation in her back which she called'the creeps'. At last she shed tears on that subject, and said againthat she was 'a lone lorn creetur' and everythink went contrary withher'.

'It is certainly very cold,' said Peggotty. 'Everybody must feel it so.'

'I feel it more than other people,' said Mrs. Gummidge.

So at dinner; when Mrs. Gummidge was always helped immediately after me,to whom the preference was given as a visitor of distinction. Thefish were small and bony, and the potatoes were a little burnt. We allacknowledged that we felt this something of a disappointment; but Mrs.Gummidge said she felt it more than we did, and shed tears again, andmade that former declaration with great bitterness.

Accordingly, when Mr. Peggotty came home about nine o'clock, thisunfortunate Mrs. Gummidge was knitting in her corner, in a very wretchedand miserable condition. Peggotty had been working cheerfully. Ham hadbeen patching up a great pair of waterboots; and I, with little Em'lyby my side, had been reading to them. Mrs. Gummidge had never made anyother remark than a forlorn sigh, and had never raised her eyes sincetea.

'Well, Mates,' said Mr. Peggotty, taking his seat, 'and how are you?'

We all said something, or looked something, to welcome him, except Mrs.Gummidge, who only shook her head over her knitting.

'What's amiss?' said Mr. Peggotty, with a clap of his hands. 'Cheer up,old Mawther!' (Mr. Peggotty meant old girl.)

Mrs. Gummidge did not appear to be able to cheer up. She took out an oldblack silk handkerchief and wiped her eyes; but instead of putting itin her pocket, kept it out, and wiped them again, and still kept it out,ready for use.

'What's amiss, dame?' said Mr. Peggotty.

'Nothing,' returned Mrs. Gummidge. 'You've come from The Willing Mind,Dan'l?'

'Why yes, I've took a short spell at The Willing Mind tonight,' said Mr.Peggotty.

'I'm sorry I should drive you there,' said Mrs. Gummidge.

'Drive! I don't want no driving,' returned Mr. Peggotty with an honestlaugh. 'I only go too ready.'

'Very ready,' said Mrs. Gummidge, shaking her head, and wiping her eyes.'Yes, yes, very ready. I am sorry it should be along of me that you'reso ready.'

'Along o' you! It an't along o' you!' said Mr. Peggotty. 'Don't yebelieve a bit on it.'

'Yes, yes, it is,' cried Mrs. Gummidge. 'I know what I am. I know that Iam a lone lorn creetur', and not only that everythink goes contrary withme, but that I go contrary with everybody. Yes, yes. I feel more thanother people do, and I show it more. It's my misfortun'.'

I really couldn't help thinking, as I sat taking in all this, that themisfortune extended to some other members of that family besides Mrs.Gummidge. But Mr. Peggotty made no such retort, only answering withanother entreaty to Mrs. Gummidge to cheer up.

'I an't what I could wish myself to be,' said Mrs. Gummidge. 'I am farfrom it. I know what I am. My troubles has made me contrary. I feel mytroubles, and they make me contrary. I wish I didn't feel 'em, but Ido. I wish I could be hardened to 'em, but I an't. I make the houseuncomfortable. I don't wonder at it. I've made your sister so all day,and Master Davy.'

Here I was suddenly melted, and roared out, 'No, you haven't, Mrs.Gummidge,' in great mental distress.

'It's far from right that I should do it,' said Mrs. Gummidge. 'It an'ta fit return. I had better go into the house and die. I am a lone lorncreetur', and had much better not make myself contrary here. If thinksmust go contrary with me, and I must go contrary myself, let me gocontrary in my parish. Dan'l, I'd better go into the house, and die andbe a riddance!'

Mrs. Gummidge retired with these words, and betook herself to bed. Whenshe was gone, Mr. Peggotty, who had not exhibited a trace of any feelingbut the profoundest sympathy, looked round upon us, and nodding his headwith a lively expression of that sentiment still animating his face,said in a whisper:

'She's been thinking of the old 'un!'

I did not quite understand what old one Mrs. Gummidge was supposed tohave fixed her mind upon, until Peggotty, on seeing me to bed, explainedthat it was the late Mr. Gummidge; and that her brother always took thatfor a received truth on such occasions, and that it always had a movingeffect upon him. Some time after he was in his hammock that night, Iheard him myself repeat to Ham, 'Poor thing! She's been thinking of theold 'un!' And whenever Mrs. Gummidge was overcome in a similar mannerduring the remainder of our stay (which happened some few times), healways said the same thing in extenuation of the circumstance, andalways with the tenderest commiseration.

So the fortnight slipped away, varied by nothing but the variation ofthe tide, which altered Mr. Peggotty's times of going out and coming in,and altered Ham's engagements also. When the latter was unemployed, hesometimes walked with us to show us the boats and ships, and onceor twice he took us for a row. I don't know why one slight set ofimpressions should be more particularly associated with a place thananother, though I believe this obtains with most people, in referenceespecially to the associations of their childhood. I never hear thename, or read the name, of Yarmouth, but I am reminded of a certainSunday morning on the beach, the bells ringing for church, little Em'lyleaning on my shoulder, Ham lazily dropping stones into the water, andthe sun, away at sea, just breaking through the heavy mist, and showingus the ships, like their own shadows.

At last the day came for going home. I bore up against the separationfrom Mr. Peggotty and Mrs. Gummidge, but my agony of mind at leavinglittle Em'ly was piercing. We went arm-in-arm to the public-house wherethe carrier put up, and I promised, on the road, to write to her. (Iredeemed that promise afterwards, in characters larger than those inwhich apartments are usually announced in manuscript, as being to let.)We were greatly overcome at parting; and if ever, in my life, I have hada void made in my heart, I had one made that day.

Now, all the time I had been on my visit, I had been ungrateful to myhome again, and had thought little or nothing about it. But I was nosooner turned towards it, than my reproachful young conscience seemedto point that way with a ready finger; and I felt, all the more for thesinking of my spirits, that it was my nest, and that my mother was mycomforter and friend.

This gained upon me as we went along; so that the nearer we drew, themore familiar the objects became that we passed, the more excited I wasto get there, and to run into her arms. But Peggotty, instead of sharingin those transports, tried to check them (though very kindly), andlooked confused and out of sorts.

Blunderstone Rookery would come, however, in spite of her, when thecarrier's horse pleased--and did. How well I recollect it, on a coldgrey afternoon, with a dull sky, threatening rain!

The door opened, and I looked, half laughing and half crying in mypleasant agitation, for my mother. It was not she, but a strangeservant.

'Why, Peggotty!' I said, ruefully, 'isn't she come home?'

'Yes, yes, Master Davy,' said Peggotty. 'She's come home. Wait a bit,Master Davy, and I'll--I'll tell you something.'

Between her agitation, and her natural awkwardness in getting out of thecart, Peggotty was making a most extraordinary festoon of herself, butI felt too blank and strange to tell her so. When she had got down, shetook me by the hand; led me, wondering, into the kitchen; and shut thedoor.

'Peggotty!' said I, quite frightened. 'What's the matter?'

'Nothing's the matter, bless you, Master Davy dear!' she answered,assuming an air of sprightliness.

'Something's the matter, I'm sure. Where's mama?'

'Where's mama, Master Davy?' repeated Peggotty.

'Yes. Why hasn't she come out to the gate, and what have we come in herefor? Oh, Peggotty!' My eyes were full, and I felt as if I were going totumble down.

'Bless the precious boy!' cried Peggotty, taking hold of me. 'What isit? Speak, my pet!'

'Not dead, too! Oh, she's not dead, Peggotty?'

Peggotty cried out No! with an astonishing volume of voice; and then satdown, and began to pant, and said I had given her a turn.

I gave her a hug to take away the turn, or to give her another turnin the right direction, and then stood before her, looking at her inanxious inquiry.

'You see, dear, I should have told you before now,' said Peggotty,'but I hadn't an opportunity. I ought to have made it, perhaps, butI couldn't azackly'--that was always the substitute for exactly, inPeggotty's militia of words--'bring my mind to it.'

'Go on, Peggotty,' said I, more frightened than before.

'Master Davy,' said Peggotty, untying her bonnet with a shaking hand,and speaking in a breathless sort of way. 'What do you think? You havegot a Pa!'

I trembled, and turned white. Something--I don't know what, orhow--connected with the grave in the churchyard, and the raising of thedead, seemed to strike me like an unwholesome wind.

'A new one,' said Peggotty.

'A new one?' I repeated.

Peggotty gave a gasp, as if she were swallowing something that was veryhard, and, putting out her hand, said:

'Come and see him.'

'I don't want to see him.' --'And your mama,' said Peggotty.

I ceased to draw back, and we went straight to the best parlour, whereshe left me. On one side of the fire, sat my mother; on the other, Mr.Murdstone. My mother dropped her work, and arose hurriedly, but timidlyI thought.

'Now, Clara my dear,' said Mr. Murdstone. 'Recollect! control yourself,always control yourself! Davy boy, how do you do?'

I gave him my hand. After a moment of suspense, I went and kissed mymother: she kissed me, patted me gently on the shoulder, and sat downagain to her work. I could not look at her, I could not look at him,I knew quite well that he was looking at us both; and I turned to thewindow and looked out there, at some shrubs that were drooping theirheads in the cold.

As soon as I could creep away, I crept upstairs. My old dear bedroom waschanged, and I was to lie a long way off. I rambled downstairs to findanything that was like itself, so altered it all seemed; and roamed intothe yard. I very soon started back from there, for the empty dog-kennelwas filled up with a great dog--deep mouthed and black-haired likeHim--and he was very angry at the sight of me, and sprang out to get atme.