her, as she was that afternoon before she began to fret―bless my
heart, he’s as like her, as he can look at me out of his two eyes!’
‘Is he indeed?’ said Mr. Dick.
‘And he’s like David, too,’ said my aunt, decisively.
‘He is very like David!’ said Mr. Dick.
‘But what I want you to be, Trot,’ resumed my aunt, ‘―I don’t
mean physically, but morally; you are very well physically―is, a
firm fellow. A fine firm fellow, with a will of your own. With
resolution,’ said my aunt, shaking her cap at me, and clenching
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
her hand. ‘With determination. With character, Trot―with
strength of character that is not to be influenced, except on good
reason, by anybody, or by anything. That’s what I want you to be.
That’s what your father and mother might both have been,
Heaven knows, and been the better for it.’
I intimated that I hoped I should be what she described.
‘That you may begin, in a small way, to have a reliance upon
yourself, and to act for yourself,’ said my aunt, ‘I shall send you
upon your trip, alone. I did think, once, of Mr. Dick’s going with
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