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    as I did for myself But I had a petition on my mind which

    disappointment counteracted the fresh air I have my doubts, too,

    and I have an object and a course at once I am driven out of it, I

    orse that I ain’t bred, and no sort of dorg Orses and dorgs is some

    David Copperfield

    or accidentally kicking Traddles under the table, or shuffling his

    she be Doctor Strong’s son’s wife, or could she be Mrs Doctor

    wished Mr Copperfield to be accompanied by some confidential

    hurriedly away, too much moved to remain I saw her stand where

    complexioned young woman, with a habit of snorting, who was

    earn them for myself I had no fear for the future, I said—and I

    honest laugh ‘I only go too ready’

    requesting that I would not interrupt the oracle, I begged pardon

    of it once a week I look from Mr Chillip, in his Sunday neckcloth,

    must have been bewitched

    cart She took me in both her arms, and squeezed me to her stays

    abroad’

    out an old black silk handkerchief and wiped her eyes; but instead

    and potatoes, and all things fitting; and to inquire at the bar if

    holiday together, and that little Em’ly and I were to accompany

    ‘It’s money, sir,’ said Mr Peggotty, unfolding it a little way ‘Ten

    new room a great improvement on my old one, it not being at all

    young fellow—a tinker, I suppose, from his wallet and brazier—

    removing herself to a still more tiny cottage close at hand What

    see another who lived near St Albans, but that she expected him

    ‘What lay are you upon?’ asked the tinker ‘Are you a prig?’

        

    Copyright as I did for myself But I had a petition on my mind which