110 David Copperfield
‘Here he is,’ said I, ‘and not in his legal attire!’
My aunt tied the strings of her bonnet (she had come
down to breakfast in it), and put on her shawl, as if she were
ready for anything that was resolute and uncompromising.
Traddles buttoned his coat with a determined air. Mr. Dick,
disturbed by these formidable appearances, but feeling it
necessary to imitate them, pulled his hat, with both hands,
as firmly over his ears as he possibly could; and instantly
took it off again, to welcome Mr. Micawber.
‘Gentlemen, and madam,’ said Mr. Micawber, ‘good
morning! My dear sir,’ to Mr. Dick, who shook hands with
him violently, ‘you are extremely good.’
‘Have you breakfasted?’ said Mr. Dick. ‘Have a chop!’
‘Not for the world, my good sir!’ cried Mr. Micawber,
stopping him on his way to the bell; ‘appetite and myself,
Mr. Dixon, have long been strangers.’
Mr. Dixon was so well pleased with his new name, and
appeared to think it so obliging in Mr. Micawber to con-
fer it upon him, that he shook hands with him again, and
laughed rather childishly.
‘Dick,’ said my aunt, ‘attention!’
Mr. Dick recovered himself, with a blush.
‘Now, sir,’ said my aunt to Mr. Micawber, as she put on
her gloves, ‘we are ready for Mount Vesuvius, or anything
else, as soon as YOU please.’
‘Madam,’ returned Mr. Micawber, ‘I trust you will shortly
witness an eruption. Mr. Traddles, I have your permission, I
believe, to mention here that we have been in communica-
tion together?’