(2) CHARLES DICKENS: DAVID COPPERFIELD: CHAPTER 2: I OBSERVE
I OBSERVE Into the blank of my infancy came the first impressions - my mother and Peggotty. My mother with her beautiful hair and youthful shape. Peggotty with no shape at all, but her dark eyes red and hard arms and cheeks. I remember them at a little distance stooping or kneeling down, and I walking unsteadily from one to the other. I can feel the touch of Peggotty's forefinger as she used to hold it towards me. A forefinger roughened by needlework. I think most of us inherit this faculty to observe, but later loose it. First and foremost, my mother and Peggotty stand out clear in my infant memory. What else do I remember? Let me see. There comes our house, quite familiar. On the ground floor is Peggotty's kitchen opening to a backyard; with a pigeon house on a pole, in the centre, without any pigeon in it; a great dog kennel in a corner without any dog; and a quantity of fowls that look terribly tall to me, walki...