Chapter 9

WHEN I reached home, my sister was very curious to know all about Miss Havisham's, and asked a number of questions. And I soon found myself getting heavily bumped from behind in the nape of the neck and the small of the back, and having my face ignominiously shoved against the kitchen wall, because I did not answer those questions at sufficient length.
If a dread of not being understood be hidden in the breasts of other young people to anything like the extent to which it used to be hidden in mine - which I consider probable, as I have no particular reason to suspect myself of having been a monstrosity - it is the key to many reservations. I felt convinced that if I described Miss Havisham's as my eyes had seen it, I should not be understood. Not only that, but I felt convinced that Miss Havisham too would not be understood; and although she was perfectly incomprehensible to me, I entertained an impression that there would be something coarse and treacherous in my dragging her as she really was (to say nothing of Miss Estella) before the contemplation of Mrs Joe. Consequently, I said as little as I could, and had my face shoved against the kitchen wall.

The worst of it was that that bullying old Pumblechook, preyed upon by a devouring curiosity to be informed of all I had seen and heard, came gaping over in his chaise-cart at tea-time, to have the details divulged to him. And the mere sight of the torment, with his fishy eyes and mouth open, his sandy hair inquisitively on end, and his waistcoat heaving with windy arithmetic, made me vicious in my reticence.

`Well, boy,' Uncle Pumblechook began, as soon as he was seated in the chair of honour by the fire. `How did you get on up town?'

I answered, `Pretty well, sir,' and my sister shook her fist at me.

`Pretty well?' Mr. Pumblechook repeated. `Pretty well is no answer. Tell us what you mean by pretty well, boy?'

Whitewash on the forehead hardens the brain into a state of obstinacy perhaps. Anyhow, with whitewash from the wall on my forehead, my obstinacy was adamantine. I reflected for some time, and then answered as if I had discovered a new idea, `I mean pretty well.'

My sister with an exclamation of impatience was going to fly at me - I had no shadow of defence, for Joe was busy in the forge when Mr Pumblechook interposed with `No! Don't lose your temper. Leave this lad to me, ma'am; leave this lad to me.' Mr Pumblechook then turned me towards him, as if he were going to cut my hair, and said:

`First (to get our thoughts in order): Forty-three pence?'

I calculated the consequences of replying `Four Hundred Pound,' and finding them against me, went as near the answer as I could - which was somewhere about eightpence off. Mr Pumblechook then put me through my pence-table from `twelve pence make one shilling,' up to `forty pence make three and fourpence,' and then triumphantly demanded, as if he had done for me, `Now!How much is forty-three pence?' To which I replied, after a long interval of reflection, `I don't know.' And I was so aggravated that I almost doubt if I did know.

Mr Pumblechook worked his head like a screw to screw it out of me, and said, `Is forty-three pence seven and sixpence three fardens, for instance?'

`Yes!' said I. And although my sister instantly boxed my ears, it was highly gratifying to me to see that the answer spoilt his joke, and brought him to a dead stop.

`Boy! What like is Miss Havisham?' Mr Pumblechook began again when he had recovered; folding his arms tight on his chest and applying the screw.

`Very tall and dark,' I told him.

`Is she, uncle?' asked my sister.

Mr Pumblechook winked assent; from which I at once inferred that he had never seen Miss Havisham, for she was nothing of the kind.

`Good!' said Mr Pumblechook conceitedly. (`This is the way to have him! We are beginning to hold our own, I think, Mum?')

`I am sure, uncle,' returned Mrs Joe, `I wish you had him always: you know so well how to deal with him.'

`Now, boy! What was she a doing of, when you went in today?' asked Mr Pumblechook.

`She was sitting,' I answered, `in a black velvet coach.'

Mr Pumblechook and Mrs Joe stared at one another - as they well might - and both repeated, `In a black velvet coach?'

`Yes,' said I. `And Miss Estella - that's her niece, I think - handed her in cake and wine at the coach-window, on a gold plate. And we all had cake and wine on gold plates. And I got up behind the coach to eat mine, because she told me to.'

`Was anybody else there?' asked Mr Pumblechook.

`Four dogs,' said I.

`Large or small?'

`Immense,' said I. `And they fought for veal cutlets out of a silver basket.'

Mr Pumblechook and Mrs Joe stared at one another again, in utter amazement. I was perfectly frantic - a reckless witness under the torture - and would have told them anything.

`Where was this coach, in the name of gracious?' asked my sister.

`In Miss Havisham's room.' They stared again. `But there weren't any horses to it.' I added this saving clause, in the moment of rejecting four richly caparisoned coursers which I had had wild thoughts of harnessing.

`Can this be possible, uncle?' asked Mrs Joe. `What can the boy mean?'

`I'll tell you, Mum,' said Mr Pumblechook. `My opinion is, it's a sedan-chair. She's flighty, you know - very flighty - quite flighty enough to pass her days in a sedan-chair.'

`Did you ever see her in it, uncle?' asked Mrs Joe.

`How could I,' he returned, forced to the admission, `when I never see her in my life? Never clapped eyes upon her!'

`Goodness, uncle! And yet you have spoken to her?'

`Why, don't you know,' said Mr Pumblechook, testily, `that when I have been there, I have been took up to the outside of her door, and the door has stood ajar, and she has spoke to me that way. Don't say you don't know that, Mum. Howsever, the boy went there to play. What did you play at, boy?'

`We played with flags,' I said. (I beg to observe that I think of myself with amazement, when I recall the lies I told on this occasion.)

`Flags!' echoed my sister.

`Yes,' said I. `Estella waved a blue flag, and I waved a red one, and Miss Havisham waved one sprinkled all over with little gold stars, out at the coach-window. And then we all waved our swords and hurrahed.'

`Swords!' repeated my sister. `Where did you get swords from?'

`Out of a cupboard,' sand I. `And I saw pistols in it - and jam - and pills. And there was no daylight in the room, but it was all lighted up with candles.'

`That's true, Mum,' said Mr Pumblechook, with a grave nod. `That's the state of the case, for that much I've seen myself.' And then they both stared at me, and I, with an obtrusive show of artlessness on my countenance, stared at them, and plaited the right leg of my trousers with my right hand.

If they had asked me any more questions I should undoubtedly have betrayed myself, for I was even then on the point of mentioning that there was a balloon in the yard, and should have hazarded the statement but for my invention being divided between that phenomenon and a bear in the brewery. They were so much occupied, however, in discussing the marvels I had already presented for their consideration, that I escaped. The subject still held them when Joe came in from his work to have a cup of tea. To whom my sister, more for the relief of her own mind than for the gratification of his, related my pretended experiences.

Now, when I saw Joe open his blue eyes and roll them all round the kitchen in helpless amazement, I was overtaken by penitence; but only as regarded him - not in the least as regarded the other two. Towards Joe, and Joe only, I considered myself a young monster, while they sat debating what results would come to me from Miss Havisham's acquaintance and favour. They had no doubt that Miss Havisham would `do something' for me; their doubts related to the form that something would take. My sister stood out for `property.' Mr Pumblechook was in favour of a handsome premium for binding me apprentice to some genteel trade - say, the corn and seed trade, for instance. Joe fell into the deepest disgrace with both, for offering the bright suggestion that I might only be presented with one of the dogs who had fought for the veal-cutlets. `If a fool's head can't express better opinions than that,' said my sister, `and you have got any work to do, you had better go and do it.' So he went.

After Mr Pumblechook had driven off, and when my sister was washing up, I stole into the forge to Joe, and remained by him until he had done for the night. Then I said, `Before the fire goes out, Joe, I should like to tell you something.'

`Should you, Pip?' said Joe, drawing his shoeing-stool near the forge. `Then tell us. What is it, Pip?'

`Joe,' said I, taking hold of his rolled-up shirt sleeve, and twisting it between my finger and thumb, `you remember all that about Miss Havisham's?'

`Remember?' said Joe. `I believe you! Wonderful!'

`It's a terrible thing, Joe; it ain't true.'

`What are you telling of, Pip?' cried Joe, falling back in the greatest amazement. `You don't mean to say it's--'

`Yes I do; it's lies, Joe.'

`But not all of it? Why sure you don't mean to say, Pip, that there was no black welwet co - eh?' For, I stood shaking my head. `But at least there was dogs, Pip? Come, Pip,' said Joe, persuasively, `if there warn't no weal-cutlets, at least there was dogs?'

`No, Joe.'

`A dog?' said Joe. `A puppy? Come?'

`No, Joe, there was nothing at all of the kind.'

As I fixed my eyes hopelessly on Joe, Joe contemplated me in dismay. `Pip, old chap! This won't do, old fellow! I say! Where do you expect to go to?'

`It's terrible, Joe; an't it?'

`Terrible?' cried Joe. `Awful! What possessed you?'

`I don't know what possessed me, Joe,' I replied, letting his shirt sleeve go, and sitting down in the ashes at his feet, hanging my head; `but I wish you hadn't taught me to call Knaves at cards, Jacks; and I wish my boots weren't so thick not my hands so coarse.'

And then I told Joe that I felt very miserable, and that I hadn't been able to explain myself to Mrs Joe and Pumblechook who were so rude to me, and that there had been a beautiful young lady at Miss Havisham's who was dreadfully proud, and that she had said I was common, and that I knew I was common, and that I wished I was not common, and that the lies had come of it somehow, though I didn't know how.

This was a case of metaphysics, at least as difficult for Joe to deal with, as for me. But Joe took the case altogether out of the region of metaphysics, and by that means vanquished it.

`There's one thing you may be sure of, Pip,' said Joe, after some rumination, `namely, that lies is lies. Howsever they come, they didn't ought to come, and they come from the father of lies, and work round to the same. Don't you tell no more of 'em, Pip. That ain't the way to get out of being common, old chap. And as to being common, I don't make it out at all clear. You are oncommon in some things. You're oncommon small. Likewise you're a oncommon scholar.'

`No, I am ignorant and backward, Joe.'

`Why, see what a letter you wrote last night! Wrote in print even! I've seen letters - Ah! and from gentlefolks! - that I'll swear weren't wrote in print,' said Joe.

`I have learnt next to nothing, Joe. You think much of me. It's only that.'

`Well, Pip,' said Joe, `be it so or be it son't, you must be a common scholar afore you can be a oncommon one, I should hope!The king upon his throne, with his crown upon his 'ed, can't sit and write his acts of Parliament in print, without having begun, when he were a unpromoted Prince, with the alphabet - Ah!' added Joe, with a shake of the head that was full of meaning, `and begun at A too, and worked his way to Z. And I know what that is to do, though I can't say I've exactly done it.'

There was some hope in this piece of wisdom, and it rather encouraged me.

`Whether common ones as to callings and earnings,' pursued Joe, reflectively, `mightn't be the better of continuing for a keep company with common ones, instead of going out to play with oncommon ones - which reminds me to hope that there were a flag, perhaps?'

`No, Joe.'

`(I'm sorry there weren't a flag, Pip). Whether that might be, or mightn't be, is a thing as can't be looked into now, without putting your sister on the Rampage; and that's a thing not to be thought of, as being done intentional. Lookee here, Pip, at what is said to you by a true friend. Which this to you the true friend say. If you can't get to be oncommon through going straight, you'll never get to do it through going crooked. So don't tell no more on 'em, Pip, and live well and die happy.'

`You are not angry with me, Joe?'

`No, old chap. But bearing in mind that them were which I meantersay of a stunning and outdacious sort - alluding to them which bordered on weal-cutlets and dog-fighting - a sincere wellwisher would adwise, Pip, their being dropped into your meditations, when you go up-stairs to bed. That's all, old chap, and don't never do it no more.'

When I got up to my little room and said my prayers, I did not forget Joe's recommendation, and yet my young mind was in that disturbed and unthankful state, that I thought long after I laid me down, how common Estella would consider Joe, a mere blacksmith: how thick his boots, and how coarse his hands. I thought how Joe and my sister were then sitting in the kitchen, and how I had come up to bed from the kitchen, and how Miss Havisham and Estella never sat in a kitchen, but were far above the level of such common doings. I fell asleep recalling what I `used to do' when I was at Miss Havisham's; as though I had been there weeks or months, instead of hours; and as though it were quite an old subject of remembrance, instead of one that had arisen only that day.

That was a memorable day to me, for it made great changes in me. But, it is the same with any life. Imagine one selected day struck out of it, and think how different its course would have been. Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day.

 

我一回到家，我姐姐便好奇地要我讲述郝维仙小姐的情况，并且提出了一连串的问题。因为我的回答不很详细，我姐姐的拳头立刻便落在我的颈背和后腰上，并且把我的面孔直向厨房的墙上撞，使我丢尽了脸。

通常一般的年轻人由于担心所讲的不被人们理解，有一些事情便放在心里不讲。于是我也就支支吾吾的，因为我没有特殊的理由把自己看成一个畸形怪物。这就是我为什么对有些问题秘而不宣的原因。我始终认为，如果我把在郝维仙小姐那儿亲眼所见的一切都和盘托出，别人一定不会理解我。不仅如此，我还坚信，如果那样，别人也不会了解郝维仙小姐。尽管我对郝维仙小姐也并不真正了解，但是我心中暗忖，如果把郝维仙小姐拉出来，直截了当地把一切讲个明白，让我姐姐满足她好奇的企图，那我就显得太卑鄙无耻和忘思负义了。至于埃斯苔娜小姐就更不用提了。所以，我能够少说便少说，这样我的头才被揪住，我的面孔才被撞到厨房的墙上。

最糟糕的还是那个专门吹胡子瞪眼睛的老家伙彭波契克。他为了想知道奇闻异事简直给弄得心乱如麻，在喝下午茶的时候乘坐他的自备马车气喘喘地赶来，要我把所见到的和所听到的一五一十全盘向他倾倒出来。他大张着鱼一样的眼睛和嘴巴，每一根爱好追根刨底的头发都站在头顶上，背心因为满肚子装的算术题而胀鼓鼓的。我一看到他这份德性，便决定以牙还牙，决不奉告。

“那么，孩子，”彭波契克舅舅一在火炉旁边的优待席上坐定，便迫不及待地说道，“到镇上去的情况怎么样？”

我回答道：“很不错的，先生。”这时我姐姐紧捏着拳头对我晃动了一下。

“很不错的？”彭波契克先生重复了一句。“很不错等于没有说，是废话。孩子，告诉我们大家，你说的很不错是什么意思。”

据说额角上涂上石灰粉便能使脑袋更坚固，更顽固。无论如何，我的脑袋撞在墙上，额角上涂上了石灰粉，我就顽固起来了，而且像铁石一样顽固。我想了片刻，仿佛有了新的主意，便答道：“很不错的意思就是很不错。”

我姐姐一听不耐烦了，便大叫一声，随即向我没命地扑来。这时乔正在铁匠铺中忙着干活，没有人来庇护我。幸好她的行动被彭波契克阻拦住了，他说道：“不要这样，不要动肝火。把这小子留给我，夫人，把这小子留给我来教训。”彭波契克先生说毕便把我的头扭向他，仿佛他正准备要给我剃头。他说道：

“先让你来把思想整理一下，算一算四十三个便士是多少？”

我在核计着，如果我回答等于四百镑会有什么后果。我想这可不太好，我得尽可能算得准确些，但算来算去总要多出七八个便士。彭波契克先生便要我再温习一下便士换算，从“十二个便士得一先令”开始，一直到“四十个便士得三先令四便士”，然后他自鸣得意地说：“现在你可以算了，四十三便士是多少？”仿佛他已经把我教训好了。听了他的话，我思考了不少时间，答道：“我算不出。”我给他气得可能也真的是算不出了。

彭波契克先生把他的头当成螺丝钉似的转动起来，似乎想从我身上钻出答案。他说道：“比方说，四十三个便士是不是等于七先令六便士五法寻呢？”

“对！”我答道。我姐姐听了立刻打了我几记耳光。本来他打算拿我寻开心，我的回答挫败了他的计划，使他停止了发问，这对我来说仍然获得了很大的满足。

“孩子，郝维仙小姐究竟是怎么一个人？”这时彭波契克先生又想起了什么事，便重开话头。他把两条胳膊交叉在胸口，又转动起他的螺丝钉脑袋。

“又高又黑。”我告诉他。

“舅舅，她真的是这样吗？”我姐姐问道。

彭波契克先生眨眨眼睛，表示同意。仅从这点，我立刻便可得出推论，他压根儿就没有见到过郝维仙小姐，因为她完全不是这样的人。

“好！”彭波契克先生十分自负地说道，“这就是管教他的方法！现在我们已经开始固守阵地了，夫人，我是这样想的。”

“舅舅，那是自然的。’乔夫人答道，“我真希望你能把他管教好。你知道该怎样对付他的。”

“那么，孩子！告诉我，你今天进到她屋里时，她正在干什么事？”彭波契克先生对我问道。

“她正坐在那里，”我答道，“坐在一辆黑天鹅绒的马车里。”

彭波契克先生和乔夫人眼睛睁得大大的，四目相望。这是意料之中的事。他们异口同声地重复着：“坐在一辆黑色天鹅绒的马车里？”

“对，”我说道，“还有埃斯苔娜小姐，我猜是她的侄女儿。她把糕点和酒放在金盘子上，从马车的窗口递进去给郝维仙小姐。我们每个人一个金盘子，上面放着糕点和酒。她叫我也上马车，站在车后面吃我的一份。”

“那儿还有别的人在吗？”彭波契克先生问我道。

“有四条狗。”我说。

“是大狗还是小狗？”

“很大很大，”我答道，“它们都在一个银筐中，把头伸出来抢小牛肉片吃。”

彭波契克先生和乔夫人又睁大眼睛，四目相望，惊奇得不得了。这时我已经疯了，这是他们用严刑逼出来的，根本用不着证明的信口开河。我什么话都能胡编乱造出来。

“我慈悲的主啊，这辆马车会放在什么地方呢？”我姐姐问道。

“就放在郝维仙小姐的房间内。”他们听了这句话更睁圆了眼睛。本来我还想讲有四匹穿着极其讲究的豪华马服的马，可最终没有讲出，便改讲了一句：“不过一匹马也没有。”

“这会是可能的吗？”乔夫人问道，“看这个孩子讲的是什么呀？”

“夫人，我的看法是，”彭波契克先生说道，“这是一顶轿子。她是轻浮的人物，你知道，她非常轻浮，轻浮得要坐在轿子里享受生活，消磨时光。”

“舅舅，你过去见过她坐在轿子里吗？”乔夫人问道。

“我怎么能见过？”他被逼得只有承认事实，说道，“我一辈子也没有见过她。我从来没有见过她一眼。”

“我的天哪，舅舅！你过去是怎么和她谈话的？”

“你怎么还不明白？”彭波契克先生有些怒气地说道，“过去我到那里去，只被领到她住的卧室门口。她把门开出一条缝儿，就在那里和我讲话。这一点你不是不知道啊，夫人。当然，这小孩到里边去玩了。孩子，在那儿你玩些什么？”

“在那里我们玩旗子。”我说道。（我得请你们允许我陈述一下我的情况；后来每当回忆起当时所讲的弥天大谎时，连我自己也感孙心凉肉跳。）

“玩旗子？”我姐姐重复了我的话。

“一点不假，”我说道，“埃斯苔娜摇一面蓝色旗，我摇一面红色旗，而郝维仙小姐摇的一面旗子上面闪耀着许多小金星。她从马车车窗里伸出手来摇。然后我们又舞剑，而且一面舞剑，一面欢呼。”

“舞剑！”我姐姐又重复了一声。“你们的剑是从哪儿来的？”

“剑都是从食橱中拿出来的，”我答道，“我还看到里面有手枪，还有果酱，还有药丸。房间里根本没有阳光，点了许多蜡烛，房间就靠烛光照明。”

“那倒是真的。”彭波契克先生说道，而且很庄重地点点。“确实是这个样子，我曾经亲眼见过的。”然后，他们两人又睁圆眼睛看着我，而我在面孔上摆出一副冒冒失失的机警神气，也睁圆了眼睛望着他们。同时，我用右手玩着右边的裤脚管，把它提出许多褶来。

如果他们再问我一些问题，可以肯定，我一定会露出马脚。本来我还想讲，在那个院子里有一只气球。我简直是孤注一掷，乱说一顿。不过我想创新的玩艺儿又被其他的新奇事儿干扰了。究竟是讲院子里的气球，还是讲制酒作坊里的熊，我尚在犹豫之中。这时，他们听了我的讲述，引起强烈的好奇，正在讨论着这些怪事，因此我便逃过了露马脚。直到乔从铁匠铺回来喝茶休息的时候，他们还在争论着。于是我姐姐便把我讲的又告诉了他，这当然不是为了讨他喜欢，而是为了解一解她自己心头的郁闷。

听了我姐姐的转述，我看到乔睁大了他的蓝眼睛，滴溜溜地对着厨房四周瞧来瞧去，表现出一副无可奈何的惊诧。这时我突然懊悔起来。不过我所说的懊悔只是对乔一个人，而对另外两个人则绝无悔意。我是对乔，也仅仅是对乔有歉意，自觉是个小妖精。他们正在争论着，现在我和郝维仙小姐相识了，又得到了她的恩惠，我将会从她那里得到什么结果呢？他们坚决认定郝维仙小姐一定会为我做些什么，但究竟以什么方式他们却猜不透。我姐姐最希望得到她的财产，而彭波契克先生认为最好还是给我一笔钱，使我能挤进上等贸易商行当个学徒，比如说，做谷物种子的生意。乔这时提出一个非常好的看法，却被他们两人丢了个大白眼。乔说，郝维仙小姐可能会给我一条抢吃小牛肉片的狗。我姐姐一听便劈头骂道：“狗嘴里长不出象牙。你只能干笨活，最好还是滚过你那打铁间去干活儿吧。”乔听了，自感没趣地走了。

彭波契克先生离开后，我姐姐忙于洗碗涮碟，我便偷偷溜进了乔的打铁间，坐在他旁边，一直等到他干完了晚上的活，这才对他说：“现在趋炉火还没有熄，乔，我想和你谈点事。”

“皮普，你要谈什么？”他把钉蹄凳放在熔铁炉旁边，说道，“你就告诉我吧，皮普，你要说什么？”

“乔，”我抓住他那卷上去的衬衣袖管，在食指和拇指之间绞来绞去，“你记得刚才说的郝维仙小姐的事吗？”

“怎么会不记得？”乔说道，“我相信你所说的！真有趣！”

“乔，这太糟了，我说的全是假话。”

“你在说什么，皮普？”乔大声说道，非常惊讶地向后缩了一下，“难道你的意思是你刚才说的——”

“确实是的，全是假话。”

“你说的难道没有真话吗？皮普，难道连黑天鹅绒的马车也肯定没有吗？”因为我站在那里直摇头，他又说：“皮普，至少总有狗吧，你说呢？”他以劝告的口吻说道：“要是没有小牛肉片，至少有狗，是吗？”

“乔，连狗也没有。”

“总有一条狗吧？”乔说道，“至少有一条小哈巴狗吧，你说呢？”

“没有，乔，根本什么狗也没有。”

我不带任何希望地盯住乔，而乔却尴尬地凝视着我，说道：“我说老兄弟皮普！你这可干不得，我的老朋友！你这样以后会变成什么人啊？”

“简直太糟了，乔，你说是不是？”

“真糟糕！”乔大声喊道，“糟糕透顶！什么魔鬼缠住你了？”

“我不知道是什么魔鬼缠住了我，乔。”我答道，放下了他的衬衫袖口，坐在他脚旁边的煤灰堆上，低垂着头。“不过，过去你要是不教我把奈夫说成贾克，那可多好，我的靴子要不是这么笨重，我的双手要不是这么粗糙，那可多好。”

于是我便把心里话对乔兜了出来。我说自己太不幸了，不能向姐姐及彭波契克先生道出真情，因为他们对我委实太粗暴。我说在郝维仙小姐家中有一个非常美丽的年轻小姐。她简直太骄傲了，总是说我太平常了。我也知道我太平常，但我还是希望自己不平常才好，也许就是因为这个原因我才说了假话。说真的，究竟是因为什么，我一时也弄不清。

这个问题简直太玄了，对乔来说和对我自己一样，是个难以处置的问题。不过乔所采取的是回避玄而又玄的问题，不理会倒反而把结打开了，一切就烟消云散了。

“有一件事情是可以肯定的，皮普，”乔稍许思索了片刻说道，“那就是，说谎总归是说谎。不管是因为什么而说谎，都是不应该的。说谎这个东西也是来自说谎的祖宗，又会传给别人。皮普，今后千万别再对我说谎。说谎这玩艺儿不能使你摆脱平常，我的老兄弟。至于什么叫平常，我是弄不清楚的，但我感到在有些地方你是不平常的，比如说在小个子这方面你就是不平常的，也许在做学问方面，你也是不平常的。”

“不对，我是无知无识的，又是没头没脑的，乔。”

“怎么会，就说昨天晚上你写的那封信吧，简直像印出来的一样！我看过许多信，说真的，都是些上等人写的！我敢发誓，那些信都不像印出来的样子。”乔说道。

“我知道我懂的太少太少，乔，你把我想得太好了，就这么一回事。”

“好了，皮普，”乔说道，“是这样和不是这样反正都一样，你要想成为一个不平常的学者，首先要做一个平平常常的学者，这就是我对你的希望！再说皇帝吧，虽然戴了一顶王冠在头上，可是他起初也只是一个没有发迹的王子，也必须从第一个字母A学起，一直学到最后一个字母Z。要是他不这样，没有平常的开始，他能有坐在皇位上并正正规规地写出法令的不平常吗？”于是乔摇了几下头，其中包含了无限的深意，然后又补充说：“虽然我不能说我已经真正做到，但我知道应该怎样做。”

从他的这篇充满智慧的阔论中，我看到一线希望，也确实得到了鼓励。

“至于干活、挣钱、吃饭的平常人，”乔思索了一下又说道，“最好还是只和平常的人们交友，不必去和那些不平常的人们去玩——对了，我这倒想起了一件事，你说的玩旗子，我希望这可是真的吧？”

“不，乔。”

“（连旗子也没有，皮普，真叫我感到可惜。）无论有旗子还是没有旗子都是一回事，现在也不可能调查清楚，否则你姐姐又会暴跳如雷。也不必去想那些了，反正你也不是故意说假话。听我说，皮普，我对你直说是因为我们是真朋友，对你这样说就是一个真朋友的话。如果你不能从正道达到不平常，你千万不能从邪道去达到不平常。以后不要再说谎了，皮普，做一个人要活得正派，死得幸福。”

“乔，你不会生我的气吧？”

“我不会生你的气，老弟。不过你得记住，你说的假话，比如你说的小牛肉片和几只狗抢吃的假话，那是太过分了，太大胆了。只有真正希望你好的人才给你劝告，皮普，等你上楼睡觉时，你得在床上好好思索一下。我说的就是这些，老弟，以后千万别再讲假话了。”

后来我回到那间小房间里去做祷告时，头脑里没有忘记乔的谆谆劝导。但我幼稚的心中混乱一片，没法认真去思考。我躺到床上，久久不能入眠，胡思乱想着，认为埃斯苔娜一定会认为乔是多么粗俗平常的一个铁匠：靴子是多么笨重，手又是多么粗糙。我思忖着，乔和姐姐只能坐在厨房里，我在上楼睡觉之前也只能坐在厨房里，可是郝维仙小姐和埃斯苔娜永远也不会坐在厨房里。和我们这平常的情况相比，她们简直好上了天。我睡着了，可是迷糊之中，我还在回忆着郝维仙小姐家里总是怎样怎样的。虽然我只在她家待了几个小时，却好像过了几个星期、几个月一样；虽然所见所闻只不过是当天的事，却好像已经是陈年往事了。

这一天是我一生中都难以忘怀的，因为它使我的内心起了巨大的变化。任何人如果遇上这相似的经历也会是难忘的，谁都可以想象得出，谁能遇上这一个特别的日子，就会感到这一天过得是多么的不相同啊。你不妨暂停一下看书，思考一下。人生好比是一条长链，无论是金做的或是铁做的，无论是荆棘编成或是花卉织成，如果没有这具有纪念意义的一天中制作的第一环，你就不可能经历这样的一生。