suit. Traddles now informed me, as the
result of his inquiries, that the mere mechanical acquisition necessary,
except in rare cases, for thorough excellence in it, that is to say,
a perfect and entire command of the mystery of short-hand writing and
reading, was about equal in difficulty to the mastery of six languages;
and that it might perhaps be attained, by dint of perseverance, in the
course of a few years. Traddles reasonably supposed that this would
settle the business; but I, only feeling that here indeed were a few
tall trees to be hewn down, immediately resolved to work my way on to
Dora through this thicket, axe in hand.

'I am very much obliged to you, my dear Traddles!' said I. 'I'll begin
tomorrow.'

Traddles looked astonished, as he well might; but he had no notion as
yet of my rapturous condition.

'I'll buy a book,' said I, 'with a good scheme of this art in it; I'll
work at it at the Commons, where I haven't half enough to do; I'll take
down the speeches in our court for practice--Traddles, my dear fellow,
I'll master it!'

'Dear me,' said Traddles, opening his eyes, 'I had no idea you were such
a determined character, Copperfield!'

I don't know how he should have had, for it was new enough to me. I
passed that off, and brought Mr. Dick on the carpet.

'You see,' said Mr. Dick, wistfully, 'if I could exert myself, Mr.
Traddles--if I could beat a drum--or blow anything!'

Poor fellow! I have little doubt he would have preferred such an
employment in his heart to all others. Traddles, who would not have
smiled for the world, replied composedly:

'But you are a very good penman, sir. You told me so, Copperfield?'
'Excellent!' said I. And indeed he was. He wrote with extraordinary
neatness.

'Don't you think,' said Traddles, 'you could copy writings, sir, if I
got them for you?'

Mr. Dick looked doubtfully at me. 'Eh, Trotwood?'

I shook my head. Mr. Dick shook his, and sighed. 'Tell him about the
Memorial,' said Mr. Dick.

I explained to Traddles that there was a difficulty in keeping King
Charles the First out of Mr. Dick's manuscripts; Mr. Dick in the
meanwhile looking very deferentially and seriously at Traddles, and
sucking his thumb.

'But these writings, you know, that I speak of, are already drawn up
and finished,' said Traddles after a little consideration. 'Mr. Dick has
nothing to do with them. Wouldn't that make a difference, Copperfield?
At all events, wouldn't it be well to