I really thought she was, she had been so short with me; but I was quite mistaken; for she laid aside her work (which was a stocking of her own) and opening her arms wide, took my curly head within them, and gave it a good squeeze. I know it was a good squeeze, because, being very plump, whenever she made any little exertion after she was dressed, some of the buttons on the back of her flew off. And I recollect two bursting to the opposite side of the parlor while she was hugging me. One day Peggotty asked me if I would like to go with her on a visit to her brother at Yarmouth. "Is your brother an agreeable man, Peggotty?" I inquired. "Oh, what an agreeable man he is!" cried Peggotty. "Then there's the sea, and the boats and ships, and the fishermen, and the beach. And 'Am to play with." Ham was her nephew. I was quite anxious to go when I heard of all these delights; but my mother, what would she do all alone? Peggotty told me my mother was going to pay a visit to some friends, and would be sure to let me go. So all was arranged, and we were to start the next day in the carrier's cart. I was so eager that I wanted to put my hat and coat on the night before! But when the time came to say good-by to my dear mamma, I cried a little, for I had never left her before. It was rather a slow way of traveling, and I was very tired and sleepy when I arrived at Yarmouth, and found Ham waiting to meet me. He was a great strong fellow, six feet high, and took me on his back and the box under his arm to carry both to the house. I was delighted to find that this house was made of a real big black boat, with a door and windows cut in the side, and an iron funnel sticking out of the roof for a chimney. Inside, it was very cozy and clean, and I had a tiny bedroom in the stern. I was very much pleased to find a dear little girl, about my own age, to play with, and after tea I said: "Mr. Peggotty." "Sir," says he. "Did you give your son the name of Ham because you lived in a sort of ark?" Mr. Peggotty seemed to think it a deep idea, but answered: "No, sir. I never giv' him no name." "Who gave him that name, then?" said I, putting question number two of the catechism to Mr. Peggotty. "Why, sir, his father giv' it him," said Mr. Peggotty. "I thought you were his father!" "My brother Joe was _his_ father," said Mr. Peggotty. "Dead, Mr. Peggotty?" I hinted, after a respectful pause. "Drowndead," said Mr. Peggotty. I was very much surprised that Mr. Peggotty was not Ham's father, and began to wonder whether I was mistaken about his relationship to anybody else there. I was so curious to know that I made up my mind to have it out with Mr. Peggotty. "Little Em'ly," I said, glancing at her. "She is your daughter, isn't she, Mr. Peggotty?" "No, sir. My brother-in-law, Tom, was _her_ father." I couldn't help it. "----Dead, Mr. Peggotty?" I hinted, after another respectful silence. "Drowndead," said Mr. Peggotty.