rambling　thoughts　ever　went　upon　any　of　the　fancies　that　used　to
  occupy　mine；　on　the　rosy　mornings　when　I　peeped　out　of　that
  same　little　window　in　my　night…clothes；　and　saw　the　sheep　quietly
  feeding　in　the　light　of　the　rising　sun。
  Our　old　neighbours；　Mr。　and　Mrs。　Grayper；　were　gone　to　South
  America；　and　the　rain　had　made　its　way　through　the　roof　of　their
  empty　house；　and　stained　the　outer　walls。　Mr。　Chillip　was　married
  again　to　a　tall；　raw…boned；　high…nosed　wife；　and　they　had　a　weazen
  little　baby；　with　a　heavy　head　that　it　couldn’t　hold　up；　and　two
  weak　staring　eyes；　with　which　it　seemed　to　be　always　wondering
  why　it　had　ever　been　born。
  It　was　with　a　singular　jumble　of　sadness　and　pleasure　that　I
  used　to　linger　about　my　native　place；　until　the　reddening　winter
  sun　admonished　me　that　it　was　time　to　start　on　my　returning　walk。
  But；　when　the　place　was　left　behind；　and　especially　when
  Steerforth　and　I　were　happily　seated　over　our　dinner　by　a　blazing
  fire；　it　was　delicious　to　think　of　having　been　there。　So　it　was；
  though　in　a　softened　degree；　when　I　went　to　my　neat　room　at
  night；　and；　turning　over　the　leaves　of　the　crocodile…book　（which
  was　always　there；　upon　a　little　table）；　remembered　with　a　grateful
  heart　how　blest　I　was　in　having　such　a　friend　as　Steerforth；　such　a
  friend　as　Peggotty；　and　such　a　substitute　for　what　I　had　lost　as　my
  excellent　and　generous　aunt。
  My　nearest　way　to　Yarmouth；　in　coming　back　from　these　long
  walks；　was　by　a　ferry。　It　landed　me　on　the　flat　between　the　town
  and　the　sea；　which　I　could　make　straight　across；　and　so　save
  myself　a　considerable　circuit　by　the　high　road。　Mr。　Peggotty’s
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  house　being　on　that　waste…place；　and　not　a　hundred　yards　out　of
  my　track；　I　always　looked　in　as　I　went　by。　Steerforth　was　pretty
  sure　to　be　there　expecting　me；　and　we　went　on　together　through
  the　frosty　air　and　gathering　fog　towards　the　twinkling　lights　of　the
  town。
  One　dark　evening；　when　I　was　later　than　usual—for　I　had；　that
  day；　been　making　my　parting　visit　to　Blunderstone；　as　we　were
  now　about　to　return　home—I　found　him　alone　in　Mr。　Peggotty’s
  house；　sitting　thoughtfully　before　the　fire。　He　was　so　intent　upon
  his　own　reflections　that　he　was　quite　unconscious　of　my　approach。
  This；　indeed；　he　might　easily　have　been　if　he　had　been　less
  absorbed；　for　footsteps　fell　noiselessly　on　the　sandy　ground
  outside；　but　even　my　entrance　failed　to　rouse　him。　I　was　standing
  close　to　him；　looking　at　him；　and　still；　with　a　heavy　brow；　he　was
  lost　in　his　meditations。
  He　gave　such　a　start　when　I　put　my　hand　upon　his　shoulder；
  that　he　made　me　start　too。
  ‘You　come　upon　me；’　he　said；　almost　angrily；　‘like　a　reproachful
  ghost！’
  ‘I　was　obliged　to　announce　myself；　somehow；’　I　replied。　‘Have　I
  called　you　down　from　the　stars？’
  ‘No；’　he　answered。　‘No。’
  ‘Up　from　anywhere；　then？’　said　I；　taking　my　seat　near　him。
  ‘I　was　looking　at　the　pictures　in　the　fire；’　he　returned。
  ‘But　you　are　spoiling　them　for　me；’　said　I；　as　he　stirred　it
  quickly　with　a　piece　of　burning　wood；　striking　out　of　it　a　train　of
  red…hot　sparks　that　went　careering　up　the　little　chimney；　and
  roaring　out　into　the　air。
  ‘You　would　not　have　seen　them；’　he　returned。　‘I　detest　this
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  mongrel　time；　neither　day　nor　night。　How　late　you　are！　Where
  have　you　been？’
  ‘I　have　been　taking　leave　of　my　usual　walk；’　said　I。
  ‘And　I　have　been　sitting　here；’　said　Steerforth；　glancing　round
  the　room；　‘thinking　that　all　the　people　we　found　so　glad　on　the
  night　of　our　coming　down；　might—to　judge　from　the　present
  wasted　air　of　the　place—be　dispersed；　or　dead；　or　come　to　I　don’t
  know　what　harm。　David；　I　wish　to　God　I　had　had　a　judicious　father
  these　last　twenty　years！’
  ‘My　dear　Steerforth；　what　is　the　matter？’
  ‘I　wish　with　all　my　soul　I　had　been　better　guided！’　he　exclaimed。
  ‘I　wish　with　all　my　soul　I　could　guide　myself　better！’
  There　was　a　passionate　dejection　in　his　manner　that　quite
  amazed　me。　He　was　more　unlike　himself　than　I　could　have
  supposed　possible。
  ‘It　would　be　better　to　be　this　poor　Peggotty；　or　his　lout　of　a
  nephew；’　he　said；　getting　up　and　leaning　moodily　against　the
  chimney…piece；　with　his　face　towards　the　fire；　‘than　to　be　myself；
  twenty　times　richer　and　twenty　times　wiser；　and　be　the　torment　to
  myself　that　I　have　been；　in　this　Devil’s　bark　of　a　boat；　within　the
  last　half…hour！’
  I　was　so　confounded　by　the　alteration　in　him；　that　at　first　I
  could　only　observe　him　in　silence；　as　he　stood　leaning　his　head
  upon　his　hand；　and　looking　gloomily　down　at　the　fire。　At　length　I
  begged　him；　with　all　the　earnestness　I　felt；　to　tell　me　what　had
  occurred　to　cross　him　so　unusually；　and　to　let　me　sympathize　with
  him；　if　I　could　not　hope　to　advise　him。　Before　I　had　well
  concluded；　he　began　to　laugh—fretfully　at　first；　but　soon　with
  returning　gaiety。
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  ‘Tut；　it’s　nothing；　Daisy！　nothing！’　he　replied。　‘I　told　you　at　the
  inn　in　London；　I　am　heavy　company　for　myself；　sometimes。　I　have
  been　a　nightmare　to　myself；　just　now—must　have　had　one；　I　think。
  At　odd　dull　times；　nursery　tales　come　up　into　the　memory；
  unrecognized　for　what　they　are。　I　believe　I　have　been　confounding
  myself　with　the　bad　boy　who　“didn’t　care”；　and　became　food　for
  lions—a　grander　kind　of　going　to　the　dogs；　I　suppose。　What　old
  women　call　the　horrors；　have　been　creeping　over　me　from　head　to
  foot。　I　have　been　afraid　of　myself。’
  ‘You　are　afraid　of　nothing　else；　I　think；’　said　I。
  ‘Perhaps　not；　and　yet　may　have　enough　to　be　afraid　of　too；’　he
  answered。　‘Well！　So　it　goes　by！　I　am　not　about　to　be　hipped　again；
  David；　but　I　tell　you；　my　good　fellow；　once　more；　that　it　would　have
  been　well　for　me　（and　for　more　than　me）　if　I　had　had　a　steadfast
  and　judicious　father！’
  His　face　was　always　full　of　expression；　but　I　never　saw　it
  express　such　a　dark　kind　of　earnestness　as　when　he　said　these
  words；　with　his　glance　bent　on　the　fire。
  ‘So　much　for　that！’　he　said；　making　as　if　he　tossed　something
  light　into　the　air；　with　his　hand。
  “‘Why；　being　gone；　I　am　a　man　again；”
  like　Macbeth。　And　now　for　dinner！　If　I　have　not　（Macbeth…like）
  broken　up　the　feast　with　most　admired　disorder；　Daisy。’
  ‘But　where　are　they　all；　I　wonder！’　said　I。
  ‘God　knows；’　said　Steerforth。　‘After　strolling　to　the　ferry　looking
  for　you；　I　strolled　in　here　and　found　the　place　deserted。　That　set
  me　thinking；　and　you　found　me　thinking。’
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  The　advent　of　Mrs。　Gummidge　with　a　basket；　explained　how　the
  house　had　happened　to　be　empty。　She　had　hurried　out　to　buy
  something　that　was　needed；　against　Mr。　Peggotty’s　return　with　the
  tide；　and　had　left　the　door　open　in　the　meanwhile；　lest　Ham　and
  little　Em’ly；　with　whom　it　was　an　early　night；　should　come　home
  while　she　was　gone。　Steerforth；　after　very　much　improving　Mrs。
  Gummidge’s　spirits　by　a　cheerful　salutation　and　a　jocose　embrace；
  took　my　arm；　and　hurried　me　away。
  He　had　improved　his　own　spirits；　no　less　than　Mrs。
  Gummidge’s；　for　they　were　again　at　their　usual　flow；　and　he　was
  full　of　vivacious　conversation　as　we　went　along。
  ‘And　so；’　he　said；　gaily；　‘we　abandon　this　buccaneer　life
  tomorrow；　do　we？’
  ‘So　we　agreed；’　I　returned。　‘And　our　places　by　the　coach　are
  taken；　you　know。’
  ‘Ay！　there’s　no　help　for　it；　I　suppose；’　said　Steerforth。　‘I　have
  almost　forgotten　that　there　is　anything　to　do　in　the　world　but　to　go
  out　tossing　on　the　sea　here。　I　wish　there　was　not。’
  ‘As　long　as　the　novelty　should　last；’　said　I；　laughing。
  ‘Like　enough；’　he　returned；　‘though　there’s　a　sarcastic　meaning
  in　that　observation　for　an　amiable　piece　of　innocence　like　my
  young　friend。　Well！　I　dare　say　I　am　a　capricious　fellow；　David。　I
  know　I　am；　but　while　the　iron　is　hot；　I　can　strike　it　vigorously　too。　I
  could　pass　a　reasonably　good　examination　already；　as　a　pilot　in
  these　waters；　I　think。’
  ‘Mr。　Peggotty　says　you　are　a　wonder；’　I　returned。　‘A　nautical
  phenomenon；　eh？’　laughed　Steerforth。
  ‘Indeed　he　does；　and　you　know　how　truly；　I　know　how　ardent
  you　are　in　any　pursuit　you　follow；　and　how　easily　you　can　master
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  it。　And　that　amazes　me　most　in　you；　Steerforth—that　you　should
  be　contented　with　such　fitful　uses　of　your　powers。’
  ‘Contented？’　he　answered；　merrily。　‘I　am　never　contented；
  except　with　your　freshness；　my　gentle　Daisy。　As　to　fitfulness；　I
  have　never　learnt　the　art　of　binding　myself　to　any　of　the　wheels　on
  which　the　Ixions　of　these　days　are　turning　round　and　round。　I
  missed　it　somehow　in　a　bad　apprenticeship；　and　now　don’t　care
  about　it。—You　know　I　have　bought　a　boat　down　here？’
  ‘What　an　extraordinary　fellow　you　are；　Steerforth！’　I　exclaimed；
  stopping—for　this　was　the　first　I　had　heard　of　it。　‘When　you　may
  nev