head that it might be my mother—I had only thought of Mr. or Miss Murdstone until then—I drew back my hand from the lock, and stopped to have a sob before I went in.
At first I saw nobody; but feeling a pressure against the door, I looked round it, and there, to my amazement, were Mr. Peggotty and Ham, ducking at me with their hats, and squeezing one another against the wall. I could not help laughing; but it was much more in the pleasure of seeing them than at the appearance they made. We shook hands in a very cordial way, and I laughed and laughed, until I pulled out my pocket-handkerchief and wiped my eyes.
Mr. Peggotty (who never shut his mouth once, I remember, during the visit) showed great concern when he saw me do this, and nudged Ham to say something.
“Cheer up, Mas’r Davy bor’!” said Ham, in his simpering way. “Why, how you have growed!”
“Am I grown?” I said, drying my eyes. I was not crying at anything particular that I know of; but somehow it made me cry, to see old friends.
“Growed, Mas’r Davy bor’! Ain’t he growed?” said Ham.
“Ain’t he growed!” said Mr. Peggotty.
They made me laugh again by laughing at each other, and then we all three laughed until I was in danger of crying again.
“Do you know how mama is, Mr. Peggotty?” I said. “And how my dear, dear, old Peggotty is?”
“Oncommon,” said Mr. Peggotty.
“And little Em’ly, and Mrs. Gummidge?”
“On—common,” said Mr. Peggotty.
There was a silence. Mr. Peggotty, to relieve it, took two prodigious lobsters, and an enormous crab, and a large canvas bag of shrimps out of his pockets, and piled them up in Ham’s arms.
“You see,” said Mr. Peggotty, “knowing as you was partial to a little relish with your wittles when you was along with us, we took the liberty. The old Mawther biled ’em, she did. Mrs. Gummidge biled ’em. Yes,” said Mr. Peggotty, slowly, who I thought appeared to stick to the subject on account of having no other subject ready, “Mrs. Gummidge, I do assure you, she biled ’em.”
I expressed my thanks. Mr. Peggotty, after looking at Ham, who stood smiling sheepishly over the shell- fish, without making any attempt to help him, said—
“We come, you see, the wind and tide making in our favour, in one of our Yarmouth lugs to Gravesen’. My sister she wrote to me the name of this here place, and wrote to me as if ever I chanced to come to Gravesen’, I was to come over and inquire for Mas’r Davy, and give her dooty, humbly wishing him well, and reporting of the fam’ly as they was oncommon toe-be-sure. Little Em’ly, you see, she’ll write to my sister when I go back, as I see you and as you was similarly oncommon, and so we make it quite a merry-go-rounder.”
I was obliged to consider a little before I understood what Mr. Peggotty meant by this figure, expressive of a complete circle of intelligence. I then thanked him heartily; and said, with a consciousness of reddening, that I supposed little Em’ly was altered too, since we used to pick up shells and pebbles on the beach.
“She’s getting to be a woman, that’s wot she’s getting to be,” said Mr. Peggotty. “Ask him.”