lodgings, and he will receive you as a lodger.’
‘My address,’ said Mr. Micawber, ‘is Windsor Terrace, City
Road. I—in short,’ said Mr. Micawber, with the same genteel air,
and in another burst of confidence—‘I live there.’
I made him a bow.
‘Under the impression,’ said Mr. Micawber, ‘that your
peregrinations in this metropolis have not as yet been extensive,
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David Copperfield
and that you might have some difficulty in penetrating the arcana
of the Modern Babylon in the direction of the City Road,—in
short,’ said Mr. Micawber, in another burst of confidence, ‘that you
might lose yourself—I shall be happy to call this evening, and
install you in the knowledge of the nearest way.’
I thanked him with all my heart, for it was friendly in him to
offer to take that trouble.
‘At what hour,’ said Mr. Micawber, ‘shall I—’
‘At about eight,’ said Mr. Quinion.
‘At about eight,’ said Mr. Micawber. ‘I beg to wish you good day,
Mr. Quinion. I will intrude no longer.’
So he put on his hat, and went out with his cane under his arm:
very upright, and humming a tune when he was clear of the
counting-house.
Mr. Quinion then formally engaged me to be as useful as I could
in the warehouse of Murdstone and Grinby, at a salary, I think, of
six shillings a week. I am not clear whether it was six or seven. I
am inclined to believe, from my uncertainty on this head, that it
was six at first and seven afterwards. He paid me a week down
(from his own pocket, I believe), and I gave Mealy sixpence out of
it to get my trunk carried to Windsor Terrace that night: it being
too heavy for my strength, small as it was. I paid sixpence more for
my dinner, which was a meat pie and a turn at a neighbouring
pump; and passed the hour which was allowed for that meal, in
walking about the streets.
At the appointed time in the evening, Mr. Micawber
reappeared. I washed my hands and face, to do the greater honour
to his gentility, and we walked to our house, as I suppose I must
now call it, together; Mr. Micawber impressing the name of
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David Copperfield
streets, and the shapes of corner houses upon me, as we went
along, that I might find my way back, easily, in the morning.
Arrived at this house in Windsor Terrace (which I noticed was
shabby like himself, but also, like himself, made all the show it
could), he presented me to Mrs. Micawber, a thin and faded lady,
not at all young, who was sitting in the parlour (the first floor was
altogether unfurnished, and the blinds were kept down to delude
the neighbours), with a baby at her breast. This baby was one of
twins; and I may remark here that I hardly ever, in all my
experience of the family, saw both the twins detached from Mrs.
Micawber at the same time. One of them was always taking
refreshment.
There were two other children; Master Micawber, aged about
four, and Miss Micawber, aged about three. These, and a dark-
complexioned young woman, with a habit of snorting, who was
servant to the family, and informed me, before half an hour had
expired, that she was ‘a Orfling’, and came from St. Luke’s
workhouse, in the neighbourhood, completed the establishment.
My room was at the top of the house, at the back: a close chamber;
stencilled all over with an ornament which my young imagination
represented as a blue muffin; and very scantily furnished.
‘I never thought,’ said Mrs. Micawber, when she came up, twin
and all, to show me the apartment, and sat down to take breath,
‘before I was married, when I lived with papa and mama, that I
should ever find it necessary to take a lodger. But Mr. Micawber
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