I looked over the wilderness, and away at the sea, and away at the river,
but no house could _I_ make out. There was a black barge not far off, high
and dry on the ground, with an iron funnel for a chimney, and smoking very
cosily.
"That's not it?" said I. "That ship-looking thing?"
"That's it, Mas'r Davy," returned Ham.
If it had been Aladdin's palace, I could not have been more charmed with
the romantic idea of living in it. There was a delightful door cut in the
side, and it was roofed in, and there were little windows in it. It was
beautifully clean inside and as tidy as possible. There was a table, and a
Dutch clock, and a chest of drawers. On the walls were some coloured
pictures of Biblical subjects. Abraham in red, going to sacrifice Isaac in
blue, and Daniel in yellow, cast into a den of green lions, were most
prominent. Also, there was a mantel-shelf, and some lockers and boxes
which served for seats. Then Peggotty showed me the completest little
bedroom ever seen, in the stern of the vessel, with a tiny bed, a little
looking-glass framed in oyster-shells, and a nosegay of seaweed in a blue
mug on the table. The walls were white-washed, and the patchwork
counterpane made my eyes quite ache with its brightness.
When I took out my pocket-handkerchief, it smelt as if it had wrapped up a
lobster. When I confided this to Peggotty, she told me that her brother
dealt in lobsters, crabs, and crawfish, which accounted for the sea smells
in the delightful house.
The inmates of the boat were its master, Mr. Peggotty and his orphan
nephew and niece, Ham and little Em'ly, which latter was a beautiful
little girl, who wore a necklace of blue beads. There was also Mrs.
Gummidge, an old lady who sat continually by the fire and knitted, and who
was the widow of a former partner of Mr. Peggotty's.
With little Em'ly I at once fell violently in love, and we used to walk
upon the beach in a loving manner, hours and hours. I am sure I loved that
baby quite as truly and with more purity than can enter into the best love
of a later time of life; and when the time came for going home, our agony
of mind at parting was intense.
During my visit I had been completely absorbed in my new companions, but
no sooner were we turned homeward than my heart began to throb at thought
of again seeing my mother,--my comforter and friend. To my surprise, when
we reached the dear old Rookery, not my mother, but a strange servant
opened the door.
"Why, Peggotty," I said, ruefully, "isn't she come home?"
"Yes, yes, Master Davy," said Peggotty, "She's come home. Wait a bit,
Master Davy, and I'll--I'll tell you something."
Intensely agitated, Peggotty led me into the kitchen and closed the door,
then, as she untied her bonnet with a shaking hand, she said breathlessly;
"Master Davy, what do you think? You have got a Pa!"
I trembled and turned white, and thought of my father's grave in the
churchyard, which I knew so well.
"A new one," said Peggotty.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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