es insisted on lending me his
pillow. I don't know what good he thought it would do me, for I had one
of my own; but it was all he had to lend, poor fellow, except a sheet of
letter paper full of skeletons; and that he gave me at parting, as a
soother of my sorrows and a contribution to my peace of mind.

I left Salem House upon the morrow afternoon. I little thought then that
I left it, never to return. We traveled very slowly all night, and did
not get into Yarmouth before nine or ten o'clock in the morning. I
looked out for Mr. Barkis, but he was not there; and instead of him a
fat, short-winded, merry-looking little old man in black, with rusty
little bunches of ribbons at the knees of his breeches, black stockings,
and a broad-brimmed hat, came puffing up to the coach window, and said,
"Master Copperfield?"

"Yes, sir."

"Will you come with me, young sir, if you please," he said, opening the
door, "and I shall have the pleasure of taking you home!"

FOOTNOTE:

[Footnote 2: From "David Copperfield," by Charles Dickens.]

EXPRESSION: The two stories which you have just read were written
by two of the greatest masters of fiction in English literature.
Talk with your teacher about George Eliot and Charles Dickens, and
learn all that you can about their works. Which of these two
stories do you prefer? Why?

Reread the conversation on pages 14 and 15. Imagine yourself to be
Tom or Maggie, and speak just as he or she did. Read the
conversation on pages 16 and 17 in the same way. Reread other
portions that you like particularly well.

In what respect does the second story differ most strongly from the
first? Select the most striking passage and read it with expression
sad feeling.

THE DEPARTURE FROM MISS PINKERTON'S[3]

I

One sunshiny morning in June, there drove up to the great iron gate of
Miss Pinkerton's Academy for young ladies, on Chiswick Mall, a large
family coach, with two fat horses in blazing harness, driven by a fat
coachman in a three-cornered hat and wig, at the rate of four miles an
hour.

A black servant, who reposed on the box beside the fat coachman,
uncurled his bandy legs as soon as the equipage drew up opposite Miss
Pinkerton's shining brass plate; and as he pulled the bell, at least a
score of young heads were seen peering out of the narrow windows of the
stately old brick house. Nay, the acute observer might have re