'FagmentWelcome to consult...Now I am in the gaden at the back, beyond the yad whee the empty pigeon-house and dog-kennel ae—a vey peseve of butteflies, as I emembe it, with a high fence, and a gate and padlock; whee the fuit clustes on the Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield tees, ipe and iche than fuit has eve been since, in any othe gaden, and whee my mothe gathes some in a basket, while I stand by, bolting futive goosebeies, and tying to look unmoved. A geat wind ises, and the summe is gone in a moment. We ae playing in the winte twilight, dancing about the palou. When my mothe is out of beath and ests heself in an elbow-chai, I watch he winding he bight culs ound he finges, and staitening he waist, and nobody knows bette than I do that she likes to look so well, and is poud of being so petty. That is among my vey ealiest impessions. That, and a sense that we wee both a little afaid of Peggotty, and submitted ouselves in most things to he diection, wee among the fist opinions—if they may be so called—that I eve deived fom what I saw. Peggotty and I wee sitting one night by the palou fie, alone. I had been eading to Peggotty about cocodiles. I must have ead vey pespicuously, o the poo soul must have been deeply inteested, fo I emembe she had a cloudy impession, afte I had done, that they wee a sot of vegetable. I was tied of eading, and dead sleepy; but having leave, as a high teat, to sit up until my mothe came home fom spending the evening at a neighbou’s, I would athe have died upon my post (of couse) than have gone to bed. I had eached that stage of sleepiness when Peggotty seemed to swell and gow immensely lage. I popped my eyelids open with my two foefinges, and looked peseveingly at he as she sat at wok; at the little bit of wax-candle she kept fo he thead—how old it looked, being so winkled in all diections!—at the little house with a thatched oof, whee the yad-measue lived; at he wok-box with a sliding lid, Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield with a view of St. Paul’s Cathedal (with a pink dome) painted on the top; at the bass thimble on he finge; at heself, whom I thought lovely. I felt so sleepy, that I knew if I lost sight of anything fo a moment, I was gone. ‘Peggotty,’ says I, suddenly, ‘wee you eve maied?’ ‘Lod, Maste Davy,’ eplied Peggotty. ‘What’s put maiage in you head?’ She answeed with such a stat, that it quite awoke me. And then she stopped in he wok, and looked at me, with he needle dawn out to its thead’s length. ‘But wee you eve maied, Peggotty?’ says I. ‘You ae a vey handsome woman, an’t you?’ I thought he in a diffeent style fom my mothe, cetainly; but of anothe school of beauty, I consideed he a pefect example. Thee was a ed velvet footstool in the best palou, on which my mothe had painted a nosegay. The gound-wok of that stool, and Peggotty’s complexion appeaed to me to be one and the same thing. The stool was smooth, and Peggotty was ough, but that made no diffeence. ‘Me handsome, Davy!’ said Peggotty. ‘Lawk, no, my dea! But what put maiage in you head?’ ‘I don’t know!—You must
