giving was nearly all wrong--for I feared it was a waste of my
mother's two half-crowns--though I had preserved the piece of paper they
were wrapped in; which was a precious saving. When we went up-stairs to
bed, he produced the whole seven shillings worth, and laid it out on my
bed in the moonlight, saying:

"There you are, young Copperfield, and a royal spread you've got!"

I couldn't think of doing the honors of the feast at my time of life,
while he was by; my hand shook at the very thought of it. I begged him
to do me the favor of taking charge of the treat; and my request being
seconded by the other boys who were in that room, he agreed to it, and
sat upon my pillow, handing round the food--with perfect fairness, I
must say--and giving out the currant wine in a little glass without a
foot, which was his own property. As to me, I sat on his left hand, and
the rest were grouped about us, on the nearest beds and on the floor.

How well I recollect our sitting there, talking in whispers; or their
talking, and my respectfully listening, I ought rather to say; the
moonlight falling a little way into the room, through the window,
painting a pale window on the floor, and the greater part of us in
shadow, except when Steerforth scratched a match, when he wanted to look
for anything on the board, and shed a blue glare over us that was gone
directly! A certain mysterious feeling, consequent on the darkness, the
secrecy of the revel, and the whisper in which everything was said,
steals over me again, and I listen to all they tell me, with a vague
feeling of solemnity and awe, which makes me glad they are all so near,
and frightens me (though I feign to laugh) when Traddles pretends to see
a ghost in the corner.

I heard all kinds of things about the school and all belonging to it. I
heard that Mr. Creakle was the sternest and most severe of masters; that
he laid about him, right and left, every day of his life, charging in
among the boys like a trooper, and slashing away, unmercifully.

I heard that the man with the wooden leg, whose name was Tungay, was an
obstinate fellow who had formerly been in the hop business, but had
come into the line with Mr. Creakle, in consequence, as was supposed
among the boys, of his having broken his leg in Mr. Creakle's service,
and having done a deal of dishonest work for him, and knowing his
secrets.

But the greatest wonder that I heard of Mr. Creakle was, there being one
boy in the s