at　him。　‘You’re　there；　are　you！　Oh；　you　naughty　boy；　fie　for　shame；
  what　do　you　do　so　far　away　from　home？　Up　to　mischief；　I’ll　be
  bound。　Oh；　you’re　a　downy　fellow；　Steerforth；　so　you　are；　and　I’m
  another；　ain’t　I？　Ha；　ha；　ha！　You’d　have　betted　a　hundred　pound　to
  five；　now；　that　you　wouldn’t　have　seen　me　here；　wouldn’t　you？
  Bless　you；　man　alive；　I’m　everywhere。　I’m　here　and　there；　and
  where　not；　like　the　conjurer’s　half…crown　in　the　lady’s
  handkercher。　Talking　of　handkerchers—and　talking　of　ladies—
  what　a　comfort　you　are　to　your　blessed　mother；　ain’t　you；　my　dear
  boy；　over　one　of　my　shoulders；　and　I　don’t　say　which！’
  Miss　Mowcher　untied　her　bonnet；　at　this　passage　of　her
  discourse；　threw　back　the　strings；　and　sat　down；　panting；　on　a
  footstool　in　front　of　the　fire—making　a　kind　of　arbour　of　the　dining
  table；　which　spread　its　mahogany　shelter　above　her　head。
  ‘Oh　my　stars　and　what’s…their…names！’　she　went　on；　clapping　a
  Charles　Dickens　ElecBook　Classics
  David　Copperfield
  hand　on　each　of　her　little　knees；　and　glancing　shrewdly　at　me；　‘I’m
  of　too　full　a　habit；　that’s　the　fact；　Steerforth。　After　a　flight　of　stairs；
  it　gives　me　as　much　trouble　to　draw　every　breath　I　want；　as　if　it
  was　a　bucket　of　water。　If　you　saw　me　looking　out　of　an　upper
  window；　you’d　think　I　was　a　fine　woman；　wouldn’t　you？’
  ‘I　should　think　that；　wherever　I　saw　you；’　replied　Steerforth。
  ‘Go　along；　you　dog；　do！’　cried　the　little　creature；　making　a　whisk
  at　him　with　the　handkerchief　with　which　she　was　wiping　her　face；
  ‘and　don’t　be　impudent！　But　I　give　you　my　word　and　honour　I　was
  at　Lady　Mithers’s　last　week—there’s　a　woman！　How　she　wears！—
  and　Mithers　himself　came　into　the　room　where　I　was　waiting　for
  her—there’s　a　man！　How　he　wears！　and　his　wig　too；　for　he’s　had　it
  these　ten　years—and　he　went　on　at　that　rate　in　the　complimentary
  line；　that　I　began　to　think　I　should　be　obliged　to　ring　the　bell。　Ha！
  ha！　ha！　He’s　a　pleasant　wretch；　but　he　wants　principle。’
  ‘What　were　you　doing　for　Lady　Mithers？’　asked　Steerforth。
  ‘That’s　tellings；　my　blessed　infant；’　she　retorted；　tapping　her
  nose　again；　screwing　up　her　face；　and　twinkling　her　eyes　like　an
  imp　of　supernatural　intelligence。　‘Never　you　mind！　You’d　like　to
  know　whether　I　stop　her　hair　from　falling　off；　or　dye　it；　or　touch　up
  her　complexion；　or　improve　her　eyebrows；　wouldn’t　you？　And　so
  you　shall；　my　darling—when　I　tell　you！　Do　you　know　what　my
  great　grandfather’s　name　was？’
  ‘No；’　said　Steerforth。
  ‘It　was　Walker；　my　sweet　pet；’　replied　Miss　Mowcher；　‘and　he
  came　of　a　long　line　of　Walkers；　that　I　inherit　all　the　Hookey　estates
  from。’
  I　never　beheld　anything　approaching　to　Miss　Mowcher’s　wink
  except　Miss　Mowcher’s　self…possession。　She　had　a　wonderful　way
  Charles　Dickens　ElecBook　Classics
  David　Copperfield
  too；　when　listening　to　what　was　said　to　her；　or　when　waiting　for　an
  answer　to　what　she　had　said　herself；　of　pausing　with　her　head
  cunningly　on　one　side；　and　one　eye　turned　up　like　a　magpie’s。
  Altogether　I　was　lost　in　amazement；　and　sat　staring　at　her；　quite
  oblivious；　I　am　afraid；　of　the　laws　of　politeness。
  She　had　by　this　time　drawn　the　chair　to　her　side；　and　was　busily
  engaged　in　producing　from　the　bag　（plunging　in　her　short　arm　to
  the　shoulder；　at　every　dive）　a　number　of　small　bottles；　sponges；
  combs；　brushes；　bits　of　flannel；　little　pairs　of　curling…irons；　and
  other　instruments；　which　she　tumbled　in　a　heap　upon　the　chair。
  From　this　employment　she　suddenly　desisted；　and　said　to
  Steerforth；　much　to　my　confusion：
  ‘Who’s　your　friend？’
  ‘Mr。　Copperfield；’　said　Steerforth；　‘he　wants　to　know　you。’
  ‘Well；　then；　he　shall！　I　thought　he　looked　as　if　he　did！’　returned
  Miss　Mowcher；　waddling　up　to　me；　bag　in　hand；　and　laughing　on
  me　as　she　came。　‘Face　like　a　peach！’　standing　on　tiptoe　to　pinch
  my　cheek　as　I　sat。　‘Quite　tempting！　I’m　very　fond　of　peaches。
  Happy　to　make　your　acquaintance；　Mr。　Copperfield；　I’m　sure。’
  I　said　that　I　congratulated　myself　on　having　the　honour　to　make
  hers；　and　that　the　happiness　was　mutual。
  ‘Oh；　my　goodness；　how　polite　we　are！’　exclaimed　Miss
  Mowcher；　making　a　preposterous　attempt　to　cover　her　large　face
  with　her　morsel　of　a　hand。　‘What　a　world　of　gammon　and　spinnage
  it　is；　though；　ain’t　it！’
  This　was　addressed　confidentially　to　both　of　us；　as　the　morsel　of
  a　hand　came　away　from　the　face；　and　buried　itself；　arm　and　all；　in
  the　bag　again。
  ‘What　do　you　mean；　Miss　Mowcher？’　said　Steerforth。
  Charles　Dickens　ElecBook　Classics
  David　Copperfield
  ‘Ha！　ha！　ha！　What　a　refreshing　set　of　humbugs　we　are；　to　be
  sure；　ain’t　we；　my　sweet　child？’　replied　that　morsel　of　a　woman；
  feeling　in　the　bag　with　her　head　on　one　side　and　her　eye　in　the　air。
  ‘Look　here！’　taking　something　out。　‘Scraps　of　the　Russian　Prince’s
  nails。　Prince　Alphabet　turned　topsy…turvy；　I　call　him；　for　his
  name’s　got　all　the　letters　in　it；　higgledy…piggledy。’
  ‘The　Russian　Prince　is　a　client　of　yours；　is　he？’　said　Steerforth。
  ‘I　believe　you；　my　pet；’　replied　Miss　Mowcher。　‘I　keep　his　nails
  in　order　for　him。　Twice　a　week！　Fingers　and　toes。’
  ‘He　pays　well；　I　hope？’　said　Steerforth。
  ‘Pays；　as　he　speaks；　my　dear　child—through　the　nose；’　replied
  Miss　Mowcher。　‘None　of　your　close　shavers　the　Prince　ain’t。　You’d
  say　so；　if　you　saw　his　moustachios。　Red　by　nature；　black　by　art。’
  ‘By　your　art；　of　course；’　said　Steerforth。
  Miss　Mowcher　winked　assent。　‘Forced　to　send　for　me。　Couldn’t
  help　it。　The　climate　affected　his　dye；　it　did　very　well　in　Russia；　but
  it　was　no　go　here。　You　never　saw　such　a　rusty　Prince　in　all　your
  born　days　as　he　was。　Like　old　iron！’
  ‘Is　that　why　you　called　him　a　humbug；　just　now？’　inquired
  Steerforth。
  ‘Oh；　you’re　a　broth　of　a　boy；　ain’t　you？’　returned　Miss　Mowcher；
  shaking　her　head　violently。　‘I　said；　what　a　set　of　humbugs　we　were
  in　general；　and　I　showed　you　the　scraps　of　the　Prince’s　nails　to
  prove　it。　The　Prince’s　nails　do　more　for　me　in　private　families　of
  the　genteel　sort；　than　all　my　talents　put　together。　I　always　carry
  ’em　about。　They’re　the　best　introduction。　If　Miss　Mowcher　cuts　the
  Prince’s　nails；　she　must　be　all　right。　I　give　’em　away　to　the　young
  ladies。　They　put　’em　in　albums；　I　believe。　Ha！　ha！　ha！　Upon　my　life；
  “the　whole　social　system”　（as　the　men　call　it　when　they　make
  Charles　Dickens　ElecBook　Classics
  David　Copperfield
  speeches　in　Parliament）　is　a　system　of　Prince’s　nails！’　said　this
  least　of　women；　trying　to　fold　her　short　arms；　and　nodding　her
  large　head。
  Steerforth　laughed　heartily；　and　I　laughed　too。　Miss　Mowcher
  continuing　all　the　time　to　shake　her　head　（which　was　very　much
  on　one　side）；　and　to　look　into　the　air　with　one　eye；　and　to　wink
  with　the　other。
  ‘Well；　well！’　she　said；　smiting　her　small　knees；　and　rising；　‘this　is
  not　business。　Come；　Steerforth；　let’s　explore　the　polar　regions；　and
  have　it　over。’
  She　then　selected　two　or　three　of　the　little　instruments；　and　a
  little　bottle；　and　asked　（to　my　surprise）　if　the　table　would　bear。　On
  Steerforth’s　replying　in　the　affirmative；　she　pushed　a　chair　against
  it；　and　begging　the　assistance　of　my　hand；　mounted　up；　pretty
  nimbly；　to　the　top；　as　if　it　were　a　stage。
  ‘If　either　of　you　saw　my　ankles；’　she　said；　when　she　was　safely
  elevated；　‘say　so；　and　I’ll　go　home　and　destroy　myself！’
  ‘I　did　not；’　said　Steerforth。
  ‘I　did　not；’　said　I。
  ‘Well　then；’　cried　Miss　Mowcher；’　I’ll　consent　to　live。　Now；
  ducky；　ducky；　ducky；　come　to　Mrs。　Bond　and　be　killed。’
  This　was　an　invocation　to　Steerforth　to　place　himself　under　her
  hands；　who；　accordingly；　sat　himself　down；　with　his　back　to　the
  table；　and　his　laughing　face　towards　me；　and　submitted　his　head　to
  her　inspection；　evidently　for　no　other　purpose　than　our
  entertainment。　To　see　Miss　Mowcher　standing　over　him；　looking
  at　his　rich　profusion　of　brown　hair　through　a　large　round
  magnifying　glass；　which　she　took　out　of　her　pocket；　was　a　most
  amazing　spectacle。
  Charles　Dickens　ElecBook　Classics
  David　Copperfield
  ‘You’re　a　pretty　fellow！’　said　Miss　Mowcher；　after　a　brief
  inspection。　‘You’d　be　as　bald　as　a　friar　on　the　top　of　your　head　in
  twelve　months；　but　for　me。　just　half　a　minute；　my　young　friend；
  and　we’ll　give　you　a　polishing　that　shall　keep　your　curls　on　for　the
  next　ten　years！’
  With　this；　she　tilted　some　of　the　contents　of　the　little　bottle　on　to
  one　of　the　little　bits　of　flannel；　and；　again　imparting　some　of　the
  virtues　of　that　preparation　to　one　of　the　little　brushes；　began
  rubbing　and　scraping　away　with　both　on　the　crown　of　Steerforth’s
  head　in　the　busiest　manner　I　ever　witnessed；　talking　all　the　time。
  ‘There’s　Charley　Pyegrave；　the　duke’s　son；’　she　said。　‘You　know
  Charley？’　peeping　round　into　his　face。
  ‘A　little；’　said　Steerforth。
  ‘What　a　man　he　is！　There’s　a　whisker！　As　to　Charley’s　legs；　if
  they　were　only　a　pair　（which　they　ain’t）；　they’d　defy　competition。
  Woul