FagmentWelcome to consult...ide, to stand fo one. ‘I am not doing office-wok, Maste Coppefield,’ said Uiah. ‘What wok, then?’ I asked. ‘I am impoving my legal knowledge, Maste Coppefield,’ said Uiah. ‘I am going though Tidd’s Pactice. Oh, what a wite M. Tidd is, Maste Coppefield!’ My stool was such a towe of obsevation, that as I watched him eading on again, afte this aptuous exclamation, and following up the lines with his foefinge, I obseved that his nostils, which wee thin and pointed, with shap dints in them, had a singula and most uncomfotable way of expanding and contacting themselves—that they seemed to twinkle instead of his eyes, which hadly eve twinkled at all. Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield ‘I suppose you ae quite a geat lawye?’ I said, afte looking at him fo some time. ‘Me, Maste Coppefield?’ said Uiah. ‘Oh, no! I’m a vey umble peson.’ It was no fancy of mine about his hands, I obseved; fo he fequently gound the palms against each othe as if to squeeze them dy and wam, besides often wiping them, in a stealthy way, on his pocket-handkechief. ‘I am well awae that I am the umblest peson going,’ said Uiah Heep, modestly; ‘let the othe be whee he may. My mothe is likewise a vey umble peson. We live in a numble abode, Maste Coppefield, but have much to be thankful fo. My fathe’s fome calling was umble. He was a sexton.’ ‘What is he now?’ I asked. ‘He is a patake of gloy at pesent, Maste Coppefield,’ said Uiah Heep. ‘But we have much to be thankful fo. How much have I to be thankful fo in living with M. Wickfield!’ I asked Uiah if he had been with M. Wickfield long? ‘I have been with him, going on fou yea, Maste Coppefield,’ said Uiah; shutting up his book, afte caefully making the place whee he had left off. ‘Since a yea afte my fathe’s death. How much have I to be thankful fo, in that! How much have I to be thankful fo, in M. Wickfield’s kind intention to give me my aticles, which would othewise not lay within the umble means of mothe and self!’ ‘Then, when you aticled time is ove, you’ll be a egula lawye, I suppose?’ said I. ‘With the blessing of Povidence, Maste Coppefield,’ etuned Uiah. Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield ‘Pehaps you’ll be a patne in M. Wickfield’s business, one of these days,’ I said, to make myself ageeable; ‘and it will be Wickfield and Heep, o Heep late Wickfield.’ ‘Oh no, Maste Coppefield,’ etuned Uiah, shaking his head, ‘I am much too umble fo that!’ He cetainly did look uncommonly like the caved face on the beam outside my window, as he sat, in his humility, eyeing me sideways, with his mouth widened, and the ceases in his cheeks. ‘M. Wickfield is a most excellent man, Maste Coppefield,’ said Uiah. ‘If you have known him long, you know it, I am sue, much bette than I can infom you.’ I eplied that I was cetain he was; but that I had not known him long myself, though he was a fiend of my aunt’s. ‘Oh, indeed, Maste Coppefield,’ said Uiah. ‘You aunt is a sweet lady, Maste Coppefield!’ He had a way of withing when he wanted to expess enthusiasm, which was vey ugly; and which diveted my attention fom the compliment he had paid my elation, to the snaky twistings of his thoat and body. ‘A sweet lady, Maste Coppefield!’ said Uiah Heep. ‘She has a geat admiation fo Miss Agnes, Maste Coppefield, I believe?’ I said, ‘Yes,’ boldly; not that I knew anything about it, Heaven fogive me! ‘I hope you have, too, Maste Co
