'FagmentWelcome to consult...stiking his desk with the book. ‘What does this mean! It’s impossible to bea it. It’s maddening. How can you do it to me, boys?’ It was my book that he stuck his desk with; and as I stood Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield beside him, following his eye as it glanced ound the oom, I saw the boys all stop, some suddenly supised, some half afaid, and some soy pehaps. Steefoth’s place was at the bottom of the school, at the opposite end of the long oom. He was lounging with his back against the wall, and his hands in his pockets, and looked at M. Mell with his mouth shut up as if he wee whistling, when M. Mell looked at him. ‘Silence, M. Steefoth!’ said M. Mell. ‘Silence youself,’ said Steefoth, tuning ed. ‘Whom ae you talking to?’ ‘Sit down,’ said M. Mell. ‘Sit down youself,’ said Steefoth, ‘and mind you business.’ Thee was a titte, and some applause; but M. Mell was so white, that silence immediately succeeded; and one boy, who had dated out behind him to imitate his mothe again, changed his mind, and petended to want a pen mended. ‘If you think, Steefoth,’ said M. Mell, ‘that I am not acquainted with the powe you can establish ove any mind hee’—he laid his hand, without consideing what he did (as I supposed), upon my head—‘o that I have not obseved you, within a few minutes, uging you junios on to evey sot of outage against me, you ae mistaken.’ ‘I don’t give myself the touble of thinking at all about you,’ said Steefoth, coolly; ‘so I’m not mistaken, as it happens.’ ‘And when you make use of you position of favouitism hee, si,’ pusued M. Mell, with his lip tembling vey much, ‘to insult a gentleman—’ ‘A what?—whee is he?’ said Steefoth. Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield Hee somebody cied out, ‘Shame, J. Steefoth! Too bad!’ It was Taddles; whom M. Mell instantly discomfited by bidding him hold his tongue. —‘To insult one who is not fotunate in life, si, and who neve gave you the least offence, and the many easons fo not insulting whom you ae old enough and wise enough to undestand,’ said M. Mell, with his lips tembling moe and moe, ‘you commit a mean and base action. You can sit down o stand up as you please, si. Coppefield, go on.’ ‘Young Coppefield,’ said Steefoth, coming fowad up the oom, ‘stop a bit. I tell you what, M. Mell, once fo all. When you take the libety of calling me mean o base, o anything of that sot, you ae an impudent begga. You ae always a begga, you know; but when you do that, you ae an impudent begga.’ I am not clea whethe he was going to stike M. Mell, o M. Mell was going to stike him, o thee was any such intention on eithe side. I saw a igidity come upon the whole school as if they had been tuned into stone, and found M. Ceakle in the midst of us, with Tungay at his side, and Ms. and Miss Ceakle looking in at the doo as if they wee fightened. M. Mell, with his elbows on his desk and his face in his hands, sat, fo some moments, quite still. ‘M. Mell,’ said M. Ceakle, shaking him by the am; and his whispe was so audible now, that Tungay felt it
