I had known Mr. Peggotty’s quaint house very well in my childhood, and
I am sure I could not have been more charmed with it if it had been
Aladdin’s palace, roc’s egg and all. It was an old black barge or boat,
high and dry on Yarmouth sands, with an iron funnel sticking out of it
for a chimney. There was a delightful door cut in the side, and it was
roofed in, and there were little windows in it. It was beautifully clean,
and as tidy as possible. There were some lockers and boxes, and there was
a table, and there was a Dutch clock, and there was a chest of drawers,
and there was a tea-tray with a painting on it, and the tray was kept
from tumbling down by a Bible, and the tray if it _had_ tumbled down,
would have Smashed a quantity of cups and saucers and a tea-pot that were
grouped around the book.
On the walls were colored pictures of Abraham in red going to sacrifice
Isaac in blue, and of Daniel in yellow being cast into a den of roaring
green lions. Over the little mantleshelf was a picture of the “Sarah
Jane” lugger, built at Sunderland, with a real little wooden stern stuck
on it—a work of Art combining composition with carpentry, which I had
regarded in my childhood as one of the most enviable possessions the
world could afford.
—_Charles Dickens._
_From the author’s condensation of David Copperfield._
_Buff says Buff._
Buff says Buff to all his men,
And I say Buff to you again;
Buff neither laughs nor smiles,
But carries his face
With a very good grace,
And passes the stick to the very next place!
_Hark, hark! the Dogs do Bark!_
[Illustration]
Hark, hark!
The dogs do bark,
The beggars are coming to town;
Some in rags,
Some in jags,
And some in velvet gowns.