*III. SCHOOL. STEERFORTH AND TRADDLES*
Salem House was a square brick building with wings. The schoolroom wasvery long, with three rows of desks running the length of it andbristling all around with pegs for hats and slates. Scraps ofcopy-books and exercises littered the floor. The other students had notyet returned from their holidays when I took my first peep into thisroom, in company with Mr. Mell, one of the tutors.
Presently I chanced to see a pasteboard sign lying upon a desk andbearing these words:
"TAKE CARE OF HIM. HE BITES."
I hurriedly climbed upon the desk, fearful of a dog underneath; but sawnone.
"What are you doing there?" asked Mr. Mell.
"I beg your pardon, sir," I replied. "If you please, I'm looking forthe dog."
"Dog? What dog?"
I pointed to the sign.
"No, Copperfield," he said gravely. "That's not a dog; that's a boy.My instructions are to put this sign on your back. I'm sorry to do so,but must do it."
With that, he took me down, and tied the placard, which was neatlyconstructed for the purpose, on my shoulders like a knapsack; andwherever I went, afterwards, I had the consolation of carrying it.
What I suffered nobody can imagine. Whether it was possible for peopleto see me or not, I always fancied that somebody was reading it. It wasno relief to turn round and find nobody; for wherever my back was, thereI imagined somebody always to be, until at last I positively began tohave a dread of myself as the boy who _did_ bite.
Mr. Creakle, the master of the school, was a short, thick-set man, andbald on the top of his head. He had a little nose and large chin. Hehad lost his voice and spoke almost in a whisper, which surprised megreatly, for his face always looked angry, and the exertion of talkingmade his thick veins stick out so that he looked angrier still.
When the boys began to come back I found my ordeal, on account of thesign on my back, not quite so great as I had feared; and it was chieflyon account of the first fellow to arrive, Tommy Traddles. Dear TommyTraddles! You made a friend of a poor, lonesome, frightened boy thatday, who will always be loyal to you so long as he lives.
Traddles was a jolly looking boy who laughed heartily when he first sawthe card, as at a great joke; and he saved me from any further shynessby introducing me to every boy and saying gaily, "Look here! Here's agame!" Happily, too, most of the boys came back low-spirited, and werenot very boisterous at my expense. Some of them certainly did danceabout me like wild Indians and could not resist patting me, lest Ishould bite, and saying, "Lie down, sir!" and calling me Towzer. But onthe whole I got through rather easily.
I was not considered as being formally received into the school,however, until J. Steerforth arrived. Before this boy, who was reputedto be a great scholar, and was very good-looking, and at leasthalf-a-dozen years my senior, I was carried as before a magistrate. Heinquired, under a shed in the playground, into the particulars of mypunishment, and was pleased to express his opinion that it was "a jollyshame"; for which I became bound to him ever afterwards.
Then Steerforth asked how much money I had; and when I told him, hesuggested that it was the proper thing for a new boy to stand treat tothe others. I agreed, but felt helpless; whereupon he kindlyvolunteered to get the things for me and smuggle them into my room. Iwas a little uneasy about spending my mother's half-crowns, but didn'tdare say so. I handed them over to him and he procured the feast andlaid it out on my bed, saying,
"There you are, young Copperfield, and a royal spread you've got!"
I couldn't think of doing the honors of the feast, at my time of life,while he was by; my hand shook at the very thought of it. I begged himto do me the favor of presiding; and my request being seconded by theother boys he acceded to it, and sat upon my pillow, handing round theviands with perfect fairness, I must say. As to me, I sat on his lefthand, and the rest were grouped about us, on the nearest beds and on thefloor.
How well I recollect our sitting there, talking in whispers, or theirtalking, and my respectfully listening, I ought rather to say; themoonlight falling a little way into the room, through the window,painting a pale window on the floor, and the greater part of us inshadow, except when Steerforth struck a match, when he wanted to lookfor anything on the board, and shed a blue glare over us that was gonedirectly.
I heard all kinds of things about the school. I heard that Mr. Creaklewas a tartar and thrashed the boys unmercifully--all except Steerforth,upon whom he didn't dare lay his hand. I heard that Mr. Creakle wasvery ignorant, and that Mr. Mell, who was not a bad sort of fellow, waspoorly paid. All this and much more I heard in the whispers of thatmoonlit room, before we finally betook ourselves to bed.
From that time on, big handsome Steerforth took me under his protection,and, for my part, I was his willing slave. I would tell him tales whichI had imbibed from my early reading, while he would help me do my sumsand keep the other boys from tormenting me. Why he, the fine head-boy,should have taken notice of me at all, I don't know. But I remember Iall but worshipped him with his easy swagger and lordly air.
The other boy to whom I always owed allegiance was Traddles. Poor jollyTraddles! In a tight, sky-blue suit that made his arms and legs looklike German sausages, he was at once the merriest and most miserable ofall boys. He was always being caned by that fierce Mr. Creakle, whomade all our backs tingle, except Steerforth's. After Traddles had gothis daily caning he would cheer up somehow and get comfort by drawingskeletons all over his slate. He was always drawing these skeletons,just as he was always getting caned. And they did comfort him somehow,for presently he would begin to laugh again before his tears were dry.
He was very honorable, Traddles was, and held it as a solemn duty in theboys to stand by one another. He suffered for this on severaloccasions; and particularly once, when Steerforth laughed in church, andthe Beadle thought it was Traddles, and took him out. I see him now,going away in custody, despised by the congregation. He never said whowas the real offender, though he smarted for it next day, and wasimprisoned so many hours that he came forth with a whole churchyard fullof skeletons swarming all over his Latin Dictionary. But he had hisreward. Steerforth said there was nothing of the sneak in Traddles, andwe all felt that to be the highest praise. For my part, I could havegone through a good deal to have won such a reward.
Although Mr. Creakle's school was not noted for scholarship, I canconfess without vanity that I did make good progress. I was naturallyfond of books and a great reader; and now I had the first fair chance atlearning things. In this I found Mr. Mell, the quiet, gentle tutor, aconstant friend to me. I shall always remember him with gratitude.
But Steerforth, I am sorry to say, did not like the tutor and took nopains to hide his poor opinion. Since many of the other boys followedSteerforth's lead, poor Mr. Mell was not popular. Still, nothingespecial came of it until one memorable day when Mr. Creakle was absent.The boys seized the chance to be uproarious, and Mr. Mell could notcontrol them. Finally even his patience was exhausted, and he sprang tohis feet and pounded his desk with a book.
"Silence!" he cried. "This noise must cease! It's maddening! How canyou treat me this way, boys?"
It was my book that he struck his desk with; and as I stood beside him,following his eye as it glanced round the room, I saw the boys all stop,some suddenly surprised, some half afraid, and some sorry perhaps.
Steerforth's place was at the bottom of the school, at the opposite endof the long room. He was lounging with his back against the wall, andhis hands in his pockets, and looked at Mr. Mell with his mouth shut upas if he were whistling, when Mr. Mell looked at him.
"Silence, Mr. Steerforth!" said Mr. Mell.
"Silence yourself," said Steerforth, turning red. "Whom are you talkingto?"
"Sit down," said Mr. Mell.
"Sit down yourself," said Steerforth, "and mind your business."
There
was a titter, and some applause; but Mr. Mell was so white thatthere was silence.
"If you think, Steerforth," said Mr. Mell, "that you can make use ofyour position of favoritism here to disobey rules and insult agentleman--"
"A what?--where is he?" said Steerforth.
Here somebody cried out, "Shame, J. Steerforth! Too bad!" It wasTraddles, whom Mr. Mell instantly routed by bidding him hold his tongue.
--"To insult one who is not fortunate in life, sir, and who never gaveyou the least offence," continued Mr. Mell, his lip trembling, "youcommit a mean and base action. You can sit down or stand up as youplease, sir. Copperfield, go on."
"Young Copperfield," said Steerforth, coming forward, "stop a bit. Itell you what, Mr. Mell, once for all. When you take the liberty ofcalling men mean and base, or anything of that sort, you are an impudentbeggar. You are always a beggar, you know; but when you do that, youare an impudent beggar."
I am not clear whether he was going to strike Mr. Mell, or Mr. Mell wasgoing to strike him, or there was any such intention on either side. Isaw a rigidity come upon the whole school as if they had been turnedinto stone, and found Mr. Creakle in the midst of us. Mr. Mell, with hiselbows on his desk and his face in his hands, sat for some moments quitestill.
"Mr. Mell," said Mr. Creakle, shaking him by the arm; and his whisperwas very audible now; "you have not forgotten yourself, I hope?"
"No, sir," said Mr. Mell.
Mr. Creakle looked hard at him and then turned to Steerforth.
"Now, sir, will you tell me what this is about?"
Steerforth evaded the question for a little while; looking in scorn andanger on his opponent, and remaining silent. I could not help thinkingwhat a fine-looking fellow he was, and how homely and plain Mr. Melllooked opposed to him.
"What did he mean by talking about favorites, then?" said Steerforth atlength.
"Favorites?" repeated Mr. Creakle, with the veins in his foreheadswelling quickly. "Who talked about favorites?"
"He did," said Steerforth.
"And pray, what did you mean by that, sir?" demanded Mr. Creakle,turning angrily on his assistant.
"I meant, Mr. Creakle," he returned, in a low voice, "as I said; that nopupil had a right to avail himself of his position of favoritism todegrade me."
"To degrade _you_?" said Mr. Creakle. "My stars! But give me leave toask you, Mr. What's your name, whether, when you talk about favorites,you showed proper respect to me? To me, sir," said Mr. Creakle, dartinghis head at him suddenly and drawing it back again, "the principal ofthis establishment and your employer."
"It was not judicious, sir, I am willing to admit," said Mr. Mell. "Ishould not have done so if I had been cool."
Here Steerforth struck in.
"Then he said I was mean, and then he said I was base, and then I calledhim a beggar. If _I_ had been cool, perhaps I shouldn't have called hima beggar. But I did, and I am ready to take the consequences of it."
Without considering, perhaps, whether there were any consequences to betaken, I felt quite in a glow at this gallant speech. It made animpression on the boys, too, for there was a low stir among them, thoughno one spoke a word.
"I am surprised, Steerforth,--although your candor does you honor," saidMr. Creakle, "does you honor, certainly,--I am surprised, Steerforth, Imust say, that you should attach such an epithet to any person employedand paid in Salem House, sir."
Steerforth gave a short laugh.
"That's not an answer, sir," said Mr. Creakle, "to my remark. I expectmore than that from you, Steerforth."
If Mr. Mell looked homely in my eyes before the handsome boy, it wouldbe quite impossible to say how homely Mr. Creakle looked.
"Let him deny it," said Steerforth.
"Deny that he is a beggar, Steerforth?" cried Mr. Creakle. "Why, wheredoes he go a begging?"
"If he is not a beggar himself, his near relation's one," saidSteerforth. "It's all the same."
"What do you mean?"
"Since you expect me, Mr. Creakle, to justify myself," said Steerforth,"and to say what I mean,--what I have to say is, that his mother liveson charity in an almshouse."
Mr. Creakle turned to his assistant with a severe frown and laboredpoliteness:
"Now you hear what this gentleman says, Mr. Mell. Have the goodness, ifyou please, to set him right before the assembled school."
"He is right, sir, without correction," returned Mr. Mell, in the midstof a dead silence; "what he has said is true."
"Be so good then as to declare publicly, will you," said Mr. Creakle,putting his head on one side and rolling his eyes round the school,"whether it ever came to my knowledge until this moment?"
"I believe not directly," he returned.
"Why, you _know_ not," said Mr. Creakle. "Don't you, man?"
"Sir, I think you knew my circumstances when I came here, and that abare living wage--"
"I think, if you come to that," said Mr. Creakle, with his veinsswelling again bigger than ever, "that you've been in a wrong positionaltogether, and mistook this for a charity school. Mr. Mell, we'll partif you please. The sooner the better."
"There is no time," answered Mr. Mell, rising, "like the present."
"Sir, to you!" said Mr. Creakle.
"I take my leave of you, Mr. Creakle, and of all of you," said Mr. Mell,glancing round the room and patting me gently on the shoulder. "JamesSteerforth, the best wish I can leave you is that you may come to beashamed of what you have done to-day. At present I would prefer to seeyou anything rather than a friend to me or to any one in whom I feel aninterest."
Then Mr. Mell walked out with his property under his arm.
Mr. Creakle made a speech, in which he thanked Steerforth for asserting(though perhaps too warmly) the independence and respectability of SalemHouse; and which he wound up by shaking hands with Steerforth, while wegave three cheers,--I did not quite know what for, but I suppose forSteerforth, and so joined in them ardently, though I felt miserable. Mr.Creakle then caned Tommy Traddles for being discovered in tears insteadof cheers on account of Mr. Mell's departure: and went back to his sofaor wherever he had come from.
When he had gone there was an awkward silence. Somehow we all feltuncomfortable or ashamed. As for Steerforth, he said he was angry withTraddles and glad he had caught it.
Poor Traddles, who was relieving himself as usual with a burst ofskeletons, said he didn't care. Mr. Mell was ill-used.
"Who has ill-used him, you girl?" said Steerforth.
"Why, _you_ have," returned Traddles.
"What have I done?" said Steerforth.
"What have you done?" retorted Traddles.
"Hurt his feelings and lost him his situation."
"His feelings!" repeated Steerforth, disdainfully. "His feelings willsoon get the better of it, I'll be bound. His feelings are not likeyours, Miss Traddles. As to his situation,--which was a precious one,wasn't it?--do you suppose I am not going to write home and take carethat he gets some money? Polly?"
We thought this intention very noble in Steerforth, whose mother was awidow, and rich, and would do almost anything, it was said, that heasked her. We were all extremely glad to see Traddles so put down, andexalted Steerforth to the skies. But as I look back at it now, I shouldrather have been Traddles that day than any other boy in the room. AndI think the other boys will say so too.
I pass over all that happened at school, until the anniversary of mybirthday came round in March. Except that Steerforth was more to beadmired than ever, I remember nothing. He was going away at the end ofthe half-year, if not sooner, and was more spirited and independent thanever; but beyond this I remember nothing. The great event by which thattime is marked in my mind, seems to have swallowed up all lesserrecollections, and to exist alone.
It was after breakfast, and we had been summoned in from the playground,when Mr. Creakle entered and said:
"David Copperfield is to go into the parlor."
I expec
ted a hamper from Peggotty, and brightened at the order. Some ofthe boys about me put in their claim not to be forgotten in thedistribution of the good things, as I got out of my seat with greatalacrity. But when I reached the parlor I saw no one except Mrs.Creakle, who held an open letter in her hand and looked at me gravely.
"You are too young to know how the world changes every day," said Mrs.Creakle, "and how the people in it pass away. But we all have to learnit, David; some of us when we are young, some of us when we are old,some of us at all times of our lives."
I looked at her earnestly.
"When you came away from home," said Mrs. Creakle, after a pause, "werethey all well?" After another pause, "Was your mamma well?"
I trembled without distinctly knowing why, and still looked at herearnestly, making no attempt to answer.
"Because," said she, "I grieve to tell you that I hear this morning yourmamma is very ill."
A mist arose between Mrs. Creakle and me, and her figure seemed to movein it for an instant. Then I felt the burning tears run down my face,and it was steady again.
"She is very dangerously ill," she added.
I knew all now.
"She is dead."
There was no need to tell me so. I had already broken out into adesolate cry, and felt an orphan in the wide world.
She was very kind to me. She kept me there all day, and left me alonesometimes; and I cried and wore myself to sleep, and awoke and criedagain.
The next night I left Salem House, after a tender adieu to Steerforth,Traddles, and all the rest. I little thought that I left the schoolnever to return.
When I reached home I was in Peggotty's arms before I got to the door,and she took me into the house. Her grief burst out when she first sawme; but she controlled it soon, and spoke in whispers, and walkedsoftly, as if the dead could be disturbed. She had not been in bed, Ifound, for a long time. She sat up at night still, and watched. Aslong as her poor dear pretty was above the ground, she said, she wouldnever desert her.
Mr. Murdstone took no heed of me when I went into the parlor where hewas, but sat by the fireside, weeping silently, and pondering in hiselbow-chair. Miss Murdstone, who was busy at her writing-desk, whichwas covered with letters and papers, gave me her cold finger-nails, andasked me, in an iron whisper, if I had been measured for my mourning.
I will not dwell upon the dull, sorrowful days before and after my dearmother's funeral. The house had been cold and quiet enough before, butwas now almost terrifying. And had it not been for Peggotty I do notknow how I should have stood it.
But soon even she was denied me. Miss Murdstone had never liked her,and now lost no time in dismissing her from our service. The single rayof light in this gloomy time is a little visit I was allowed to makewith her to Yarmouth, to our old friends, Mr. Peggotty, Ham, and Emily.The latter was much grown now, but prettier than ever, and shyer aboutletting me kiss her.
And Barkis, the honest carrier, after having been "willing" all thistime, was hugely gratified to gain a favorable answer from Peggotty.They were married while I was there, and I was glad to leave my faithfulold nurse so well provided for.
Then I returned home--no, I cannot say that word--to Mr. and MissMurdstone.
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