'That little man of a doctor, with his head on one side,' said my aunt,
'Jellips, or whatever his name was, what was he about? All he could do,
was to say to me, like a robin redbreast--as he is--"It's a boy." A boy!
Yah, the imbecility of the whole set of 'em!'

The heartiness of the ejaculation startled Mr. Dick exceedingly; and me,
too, if I am to tell the truth.

'And then, as if this was not enough, and she had not stood sufficiently
in the light of this child's sister, Betsey Trotwood,' said my aunt,
'she marries a second time--goes and marries a Murderer--or a man with
a name like it--and stands in THIS child's light! And the natural
consequence is, as anybody but a baby might have foreseen, that he
prowls and wanders. He's as like Cain before he was grown up, as he can
be.'

Mr. Dick looked hard at me, as if to identify me in this character.

'And then there's that woman with the Pagan name,' said my aunt, 'that
Peggotty, she goes and gets married next. Because she has not seen
enough of the evil attending such things, she goes and gets married
next, as the child relates. I only hope,' said my aunt, shaking her
head, 'that her husband is one of those Poker husbands who abound in the
newspapers, and will beat her well with one.'

I could not bear to hear my old nurse so decried, and made the subject
of such a wish. I told my aunt that indeed she was mistaken. That
Peggotty was the best, the truest, the most faithful, most devoted, and
most self-denying friend and servant in the world; who had ever loved
me dearly, who had ever loved my mother dearly; who had held my mother's
dying head upon her arm, on whose face my mother had imprinted her last
grateful kiss. And my remembrance of them both, choking me, I broke down
as I was trying to say that her home was my home, and that all she had
was mine, and that I would have gone to her for shelter, but for her
humble station, which made me fear that I might bring some trouble on
her--I broke down, I say, as I was trying to say so, and laid my face in
my hands upon the table.

'Well, well!' said my aunt, 'the child is right to stand by those who
have stood by him--Janet! Donkeys!'

I thoroughly believe that but for those unfortunate donkeys, we should
have come to a good understanding; for my aunt had laid her hand on my
shoulder, and the impulse was upon me, thus emboldened, to embrace her
and beseech her protection. But the interruption, and the disorder she