own, sir!" and calling me Towzer, which
of course was trying, but, on the whole, much better than I had
anticipated.

I was not considered as formally received into the school until I had met
J. Steerforth. He was one of the older scholars, reputed to be brilliant
and clever, and quite the lion of the school. He inquired, under a shed in
the playground, into the particulars of my punishment, and said it was "a
jolly shame," which opinion bound me to him ever afterwards. Then he asked
me what money I had, and when I answered seven shillings, he suggested
that I spend a couple of shillings or so in a bottle of currant wine, and
a couple or so in almond cakes, and another in fruit, and another in
biscuit, for a little celebration that night in our bedroom, in honour of
my arrival, and of course I said I should be glad to do so. I was a little
uneasy about wasting my mother's half-crowns, but I did not dare to say
so, and Steerforth procured the feast and laid it out on my bed, saying,
"There you are, young Copperfield, and a royal spread you've got."

I couldn't think of doing the honours of the feast, and begged him to
preside. So he sat upon my pillow, handing round the viands, and
dispensing the wine. As to me, I sat next to him, and the rest grouped
about us on the nearest beds and on the floor; and there we sat in the dim
moonlight, talking in whispers, while I heard all the school gossip, about
Mr. Creakle and his cruelty, and about the other masters, and that the
only boy on whom Mr. Creakle never dared to lay a hand was Steerforth. All
this and much more I heard before we at last betook ourselves to bed.

The next day school began in earnest, and so far as the boys were
concerned, Steerforth continued his protection of me, and was always a
very firm and useful friend, as no one dared annoy any one whom he liked.

One night he discovered that my head was filled with stories of my
favourite heroes, which I could relate with some measure of graphic
talent, and after that I was obliged to reel off stories by the yard,
making myself into a regular Sultana Scheherezade for his benefit. I was
much flattered by his interest in my tales, and the only drawback to
telling them was that I was often very sleepy at night, and it was
sometimes very hard work to be roused and forced into a long recital
before the rising bell rang, but Steerforth was resolute, and as in return
he explained sums and exercises to me, I was no loser