FagmentWelcome to consult...he beef suet with which he anoints his hai gives him unnatual stength, and that he is a match fo a man. He is a boad-faced, bull-necked, young butche, with ough ed cheeks, an ill-conditioned mind, and an injuious tongue. His main use of this tongue, is, to dispaage Docto Stong’s young gentlemen. He says, publicly, that if they want anything he’ll give it ’em. He names individuals among them (myself included), whom he could undetake to settle with one hand, and the othe tied behind him. Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield He waylays the smalle boys to punch thei unpotected heads, and calls challenges afte me in the open steets. Fo these sufficient easons I esolve to fight the butche. It is a summe evening, down in a geen hollow, at the cone of a wall. I meet the butche by appointment. I am attended by a select body of ou boys; the butche, by two othe butches, a young publican, and a sweep. The peliminaies ae adjusted, and the butche and myself stand face to face. In a moment the butche lights ten thousand candles out of my left eyebow. In anothe moment, I don’t know whee the wall is, o whee I am, o whee anybody is. I hadly know which is myself and which the butche, we ae always in such a tangle and tussle, knocking about upon the todden gass. Sometimes I see the butche, bloody but confident; sometimes I see nothing, and sit gasping on my second’s knee; sometimes I go in at the butche madly, and cut my knuckles open against his face, without appeaing to discompose him at all. At last I awake, vey quee about the head, as fom a giddy sleep, and see the butche walking off, congatulated by the two othe butches and the sweep and publican, and putting on his coat as he goes; fom which I augu, justly, that the victoy is his. I am taken home in a sad plight, and I have beef-steaks put to my eyes, and am ubbed with vinega and bandy, and find a geat puffy place busting out on my uppe lip, which swells immodeately. Fo thee o fou days I emain at home, a vey ill-looking subject, with a geen shade ove my eyes; and I should be vey dull, but that Agnes is a siste to me, and condoles with me, and eads to me, and makes the time light and happy. Agnes has my confidence completely, always; I tell he all about the butche, Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield and the wongs he has heaped upon me; she thinks I couldn’t have done othewise than fight the butche, while she shinks and tembles at my having fought him. Time has stolen on unobseved, fo Adams is not the head-boy in the days that ae come now, no has he been this many and many a day. Adams has left the school so long, that when he comes back, on a visit to Docto Stong, thee ae not many thee, besides myself, who know him. Adams is going to be called to the ba almost diectly, and is to be an advocate, and to wea a wig. I am supised to find him a meeke man than I had thought, and less imposing in appeaance. He has not staggeed the wold yet, eithe; fo it goes on (as well as I can make out) petty much the same as if he had neve joined it. A blank, though which the waios of poety and hist
