David　Copperfield
  desert　you；　Micawber！’
  ‘My　love；’　said　Mr。　Micawber；　much　affected；　‘you　will　forgive；
  and　our　old　and　tried　friend　Copperfield　will；　I　am　sure；　forgive；
  the　momentary　laceration　of　a　wounded　spirit；　made　sensitive　by　a
  recent　collision　with　the　Minion　of　Power—in　other　words；　with　a
  ribald　Turncock　attached　to　the　water…works—and　will　pity；　not
  condemn；　its　excesses。’
  Mr。　Micawber　then　embraced　Mrs。　Micawber；　and　pressed　my
  hand；　leaving　me　to　infer　from　this　broken　allusion　that　his
  domestic　supply　of　water　had　been　cut　off　that　afternoon；　in
  consequence　of　default　in　the　payment　of　the　company’s　rates。
  To　divert　his　thoughts　from　this　melancholy　subject；　I　informed
  Mr。　Micawber　that　I　relied　upon　him　for　a　bowl　of　punch；　and　led
  him　to　the　lemons。　His　recent　despondency；　not　to　say　despair；
  was　gone　in　a　moment。　I　never　saw　a　man　so　thoroughly　enjoy
  himself　amid　the　fragrance　of　lemon…peel　and　sugar；　the　odour　of
  burning　rum；　and　the　steam　of　boiling　water；　as　Mr。　Micawber　did
  that　afternoon。　It　was　wonderful　to　see　his　face　shining　at　us　out　of
  a　thin　cloud　of　these　delicate　fumes；　as　he　stirred；　and　mixed；　and
  tasted；　and　looked　as　if　he　were　making；　instead　of　punch；　a
  fortune　for　his　family　down　to　the　latest　posterity。　As　to　Mrs。
  Micawber；　I　don’t　know　whether　it　was　the　effect　of　the　cap；　or　the
  lavender…water；　or　the　pins；　or　the　fire；　or　the　wax…candles；　but　she
  came　out　of　my　room；　comparatively　speaking；　lovely。　And　the　lark
  was　never　gayer　than　that　excellent　woman。
  I　suppose—I　never　ventured　to　inquire；　but　I　suppose—that
  Mrs。　Crupp；　after　frying　the　soles；　was　taken　ill。　Because　we　broke
  down　at　that　point。　The　leg　of　mutton　came　up　very　red　within；
  and　very　pale　without：　besides　having　a　foreign　substance　of　a
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  David　Copperfield
  gritty　nature　sprinkled　over　it；　as　if　it　had　had　a　fall　into　the　ashes
  of　that　remarkable　kitchen　fireplace。　But　we　were　not　in　condition
  to　judge　of　this　fact　from　the　appearance　of　the　gravy；　forasmuch
  as　the　‘young　gal’　had　dropped　it　all　upon　the　stairs—where　it
  remained；　by　the　by；　in　a　long　train；　until　it　was　worn　out。　The
  pigeon…pie　was　not　bad；　but　it　was　a　delusive　pie：　the　crust　being
  like　a　disappointing　head；　phrenologically　speaking：　full　of　lumps
  and　bumps；　with　nothing　particular　underneath。　In　short；　the
  banquet　was　such　a　failure　that　I　should　have　been　quite
  unhappy—about　the　failure；　I　mean；　for　I　was　always　unhappy
  about　Dora—if　I　had　not　been　relieved　by　the　great　good　humour
  of　my　company；　and　by　a　bright　suggestion　from　Mr。　Micawber。
  ‘My　dear　friend　Copperfield；’　said　Mr。　Micawber；　‘accidents　will
  occur　in　the　best…regulated　families；　and　in　families　not　regulated
  by　that　pervading　influence　which　sanctifies　while　it　enhances
  the—a—I　would　say；　in　short；　by　the　influence　of　Woman；　in　the
  lofty　character　of　Wife；　they　may　be　expected　with　confidence；　and
  must　be　borne　with　philosophy。　If　you　will　allow　me　to　take　the
  liberty　of　remarking　that　there　are　few　comestibles　better；　in　their
  way；　than　a　Devil；　and　that　I　believe；　with　a　little　division　of　labour；
  we　could　accomplish　a　good　one　if　the　young　person　in　attendance
  could　produce　a　gridiron；　I　would　put　it　to　you；　that　this　little
  misfortune　may　be　easily　repaired。’
  There　was　a　gridiron　in　the　pantry；　on　which　my　morning
  rasher　of　bacon　was　cooked。　We　had　it　in；　in　a　twinkling；　and
  immediately　applied　ourselves　to　carrying　Mr。　Micawber’s　idea
  into　effect。　The　division　of　labour　to　which　he　had　referred　was
  this：—Traddles　cut　the　mutton　into　slices；　Mr。　Micawber　（who
  could　do　anything　of　this　sort　to　perfection）　covered　them　with
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  David　Copperfield
  pepper；　mustard；　salt；　and　cayenne；　I　put　them　on　the　gridiron；
  turned　them　with　a　fork；　and　took　them　off；　under　Mr。　Micawber’s
  direction；　and　Mrs。　Micawber　heated；　and　continually　stirred；
  some　mushroom　ketchup　in　a　little　saucepan。　When　we　had　slices
  enough　done　to　begin　upon；　we　fell…to；　with　our　sleeves　still　tucked
  up　at　the　wrist；　more　slices　sputtering　and　blazing　on　the　fire；　and
  our　attention　divided　between　the　mutton　on　our　plates；　and　the
  mutton　then　preparing。
  What　with　the　novelty　of　this　cookery；　the　excellence　of　it；　the
  bustle　of　it；　the　frequent　starting　up　to　look　after　it；　the　frequent
  sitting　down　to　dispose　of　it　as　the　crisp　slices　came　off　the
  gridiron　hot　and　hot；　the　being　so　busy；　so　flushed　with　the　fire；　so
  amused；　and　in　the　midst　of　such　a　tempting　noise　and　savour；　we
  reduced　the　leg　of　mutton　to　the　bone。　My　own　appetite　came　back
  miraculously。　I　am　ashamed　to　record　it；　but　I　really　believe　I
  forgot　Dora　for　a　little　while。　I　am　satisfied　that　Mr。　and　Mrs。
  Micawber　could　not　have　enjoyed　the　feast　more；　if　they　had　sold　a
  bed　to　provide　it。　Traddles　laughed　as　heartily；　almost　the　whole
  time；　as　he　ate　and　worked。　Indeed　we　all　did；　all　at　once；　and　I
  dare　say　there　was　never　a　greater　success。
  We　were　at　the　height　of　our　enjoyment；　and　were　all　busily
  engaged；　in　our　several　departments；　endeavouring　to　bring　the
  last　batch　of　slices　to　a　state　of　perfection　that　should　crown　the
  feast；　when　I　was　aware　of　a　strange　presence　in　the　room；　and　my
  eyes　encountered　those　of　the　staid　Littimer；　standing　hat　in　hand
  before　me。
  ‘What’s　the　matter？’　I　involuntarily　asked。
  ‘I　beg　your　pardon；　sir；　I　was　directed　to　come　in。　Is　my　master
  not　here；　sir？’
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  David　Copperfield
  ‘No。’
  ‘Have　you　not　seen　him；　sir？’
  ‘No；　don’t　you　come　from　him？’
  ‘Not　immediately　so；　sir。’
  ‘Did　he　tell　you　you　would　find　him　here？’
  ‘Not　exactly　so；　sir。　But　I　should　think　he　might　be　here
  tomorrow；　as　he　has　not　been　here　today。’
  ‘Is　he　coming　up　from　Oxford？’
  ‘I　beg；　sir；’　he　returned　respectfully；　‘that　you　will　be　seated；
  and　allow　me　to　do　this。’　With　which　he　took　the　fork　from　my
  unresisting　hand；　and　bent　over　the　gridiron；　as　if　his　whole
  attention　were　concentrated　on　it。
  We　should　not　have　been　much　discomposed；　I　dare　say；　by　the
  appearance　of　Steerforth　himself；　but　we　became　in　a　moment　the
  meekest　of　the　meek　before　his　respectable　serving…man。　Mr。
  Micawber；　humming　a　tune；　to　show　that　he　was　quite　at　ease；
  subsided　into　his　chair；　with　the　handle　of　a　hastily　concealed　fork
  sticking　out　of　the　bosom　of　his　coat；　as　if　he　had　stabbed　himself。
  Mrs。　Micawber　put　on　her　brown　gloves；　and　assumed　a　genteel
  languor。　Traddles　ran　his　greasy　hands　through　his　hair；　and　stood
  it　bolt　upright；　and　stared　in　confusion　on　the　table…cloth。　As　for
  me；　I　was　a　mere　infant　at　the　head　of　my　own　table；　and　hardly
  ventured　to　glance　at　the　respectable　phenomenon；　who　had　come
  from　Heaven　knows　where；　to　put　my　establishment　to　rights。
  Meanwhile　he　took　the　mutton　off　the　gridiron；　and　gravely
  handed　it　round。　We　all　took　some；　but　our　appreciation　of　it　was
  gone；　and　we　merely　made　a　show　of　eating　it。　As　we　severally
  pushed　away　our　plates；　he　noiselessly　removed　them；　and　set　on
  the　cheese。　He　took　that　off；　too；　when　it　was　done　with；　cleared
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  David　Copperfield
  the　table；　piled　everything　on　the　dumb…waiter；　gave　us　our　wineglasses；　and；　of　his　own　accord；　wheeled　the　dumb…waiter　into　the
  pantry。　All　this　was　done　in　a　perfect　manner；　and　he　never　raised
  his　eyes　from　what　he　was　about。　Yet　his　very　elbows；　when　he
  had　his　back　towards　me；　seemed　to　teem　with　the　expression　of
  his　fixed　opinion　that　I　was　extremely　young。
  ‘Can　I　do　anything　more；　sir？’
  I　thanked　him　and　said；　No；　but　would　he　take　no　dinner
  himself？
  ‘None；　I　am　obliged　to　you；　sir。’
  ‘Is　Mr。　Steerforth　coming　from　Oxford？’
  ‘I　beg　your　pardon；　sir？’
  ‘Is　Mr。　Steerforth　coming　from　Oxford？’
  ‘I　should　imagine　that　he　might　be　here　tomorrow；　sir。　I　rather
  thought　he　might　have　been　here　today；　sir。　The　mistake　is　mine；
  no　doubt；　sir。’
  ‘If　you　should　see　him　first—’　said　I。
  ‘If　you’ll　excuse　me；　sir；　I　don’t　think　I　shall　see　him　first。’
  ‘In　case　you　do；’　said　I；　‘pray　say　that　I　am　sorry　he　was　not　here
  today；　as　an　old　schoolfellow　of　his　was　here。’
  ‘Indeed；　sir！’　and　he　divided　a　bow　between　me　and　Traddles；
  with　a　glance　at　the　latter。
  He　was　moving　softly　to　the　door；　when；　in　a　forlorn　hope　of
  saying　something　naturally—which　I　never　could；　to　this　man—I
  said：
  ‘Oh！　Littimer！’
  ‘Sir！’
  ‘Did　you　remain　long　at　Yarmouth；　that　time？’
  ‘Not　particularly　so；　sir。’
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  David　Copperfield
  ‘You　saw　the　boat　completed？’
  ‘Yes；　sir。　I　remained　behind　on　purpose　to　see　the　boat
  completed。’
  ‘I　know！’　He　raised　his　eyes　to　mine　respectfully。
  ‘Mr。　Steerforth　has　not　seen　it　yet；　I　suppose？’
  ‘I　really　can’t　say；　sir。　I　think—but　I　really　can’t　say；　sir。　I　wish
  you　good　night；　sir。’
  He　comprehended　everybody　pre