1 David Copperfield
‘Exactly so,’ replied Traddles, ‘all to be earned. Of course
we have something in the shape of tea-spoons, because we
stir our tea. But they’re Britannia metal.’
‘The silver will be the brighter when it comes,’ said I.
‘The very thing we say!’ cried Traddles. ‘You see, my
dear Copperfield,’ falling again into the low confidential
tone, ‘after I had delivered my argument in DOE dem. JI-
PES versus WIGZIELL, which did me great service with the
profession, I went down into Devonshire, and had some se-
rious conversation in private with the Reverend Horace. I
dwelt upon the fact that Sophy - who I do assure you, Cop-
perfield, is the dearest girl! -’
‘I am certain she is!’ said I.
‘She is, indeed!’ rejoined Traddles. ‘But I am afraid I am
wandering from the subject. Did I mention the Reverend
Horace?’
‘You said that you dwelt upon the fact -’
‘True! Upon the fact that Sophy and I had been engaged
for a long period, and that Sophy, with the permission of
her parents, was more than content to take me - in short,’
said Traddles, with his old frank smile, ‘on our present
Britannia-metal footing. Very well. I then proposed to the
Reverend Horace - who is a most excellent clergyman, Cop-
perfield, and ought to be a Bishop; or at least ought to have
enough to live upon, without pinching himself - that if I
could turn the corner, say of two hundred and fifty pounds,
in one year; and could see my way pretty clearly to that, or
something better, next year; and could plainly furnish a lit-
tle place like this, besides; then, and in that case, Sophy and