I figured out a more effective way to cut and paste so it is automatically formatted in my Word Document. Yes!!! (No, this has no bearing on the story, but I'm stoked for it)
Joe is so adorable!!!
72Pip has been going to school for a while now. 73He and Joe sit at the chimney as Pip writes Joe a letter on his slate.
74Pip (in the letter): MI DEER JO i OPE U R KRWITE WELL i OPE i SHAL SON B HABELL 4 2 TEEDGE U JO AN THEN WE SHORL B SO GLODD AN WEN i M PRENGTD 2 U JO WOT LARX AN BLEVE ME INF XN PIP.
Pip gives slate to Joe.
Joe: I say, Pip, old chap! What a scholar you are! An't you?
Pip: I should like to be.
Joe: Why, here's a J, and a O equal to anythink! Here's a J and a O, Pip, and a J-O, Joe.
Pip: Ah! But read the rest, Joe.
Joe: The rest, eh, Pip? 75One, two, three. Why, here's three Js, and three Os, and three J-O, Joes in it, Pip!"
Pip reads him the whole letter
Joe: Astonishing! You ARE a scholar.
Pip: How do you spell Gargery, Joe?
Joe: I don’t spell it at all.
Pip: But supposing you did?
Joe: It can't be supposed. Tho' I'm oncommon fond of reading, too.
Pip: Are you, Joe?
Joe: On-common. Give me a good book, or a good newspaper, and sit me down afore a good fire, and I ask no better. Lord! When you do come to a J and a O, and says you, "Here, at last, is a J-O, Joe," how interesting reading is!
Pip: Didn't you ever go to school, Joe, when you were as little as me?
Joe: No, Pip.
Pip: Why didn't you ever go to school, Joe, when you were as little as me?
Joe: Well, Pip, I'll tell 76you. My father, Pip, he were given to drink, and when he were overtook with drink, he hammered away at my mother, most onmerciful. It were a'most the only hammering he did, indeed, 'xcepting at myself. And he hammered at me with a wigour only to be equalled by the wigour with which he didn't hammer at his anwil. - You're a-listening and understanding, Pip?
Pip: Yes, Joe.
Joe: Consequence, my mother and me we ran away from my father, several times; and then my mother she'd go out to work, and she'd say, "Joe," she'd say, "now, please God, you shall have some schooling, child," and she'd put me to school. But my father were that good in his hart that he couldn't abear to be without us. So, he'd come with a most tremenjous crowd and make such a row at the doors of the houses where we was, that they used to be obligated to have no more to do with us and to give us up to him. And then he took us home and hammered us. Which, you see, Pip, were a drawback on my learning.
Pip: Certainly, poor Joe!
Joe: Though mind you, Pip, rendering unto all their doo, and maintaining equal justice betwixt man and man, my father were that good in his hart, don't you see? Well! Somebody must keep the pot a biling, Pip, or the pot won't bile, don't you know?
77Pip: [Yes, of course]
Joe: Consequence, my father didn't make objections to my going to work; so I went to work to work at my present calling, which were his too, if he would have followed it, and I worked tolerable hard, I assure you, Pip. In time I were able to keep him, and I kept him till he went off in a purple leptic fit. And it were my intentions to have had put upon his tombstone that Whatsume'er the failings on his part, Remember reader he were that good in his hart.
Pip: [Did you make it yourself?]
Joe: I made it my own self. I made it in a moment. It was like striking out a horseshoe complete, in a single blow. I never was so much surprised in all my life - couldn't credit my own ed - to tell you the truth, hardly believed it were my own ed. As I was saying, Pip, it were my intentions to have had it cut over him; but poetry costs money, cut it how you will, small or large, and it were not done. Not to mention bearers, all the money that could be spared were wanted for my mother. She were in poor elth, and quite broke. She weren't long of following, poor soul, and her share of peace come round at last.
It were but lonesome then, living here 78alone, and I got acquainted with your sister. Now, Pip; your sister is a fine figure of a woman. Whatever family opinions, or whatever the world's opinions, on that subject may be, Pip, your sister is a - fine - figure - of - a - woman!
Pip: I am glad you think so, Joe.
Joe: So am I. I am glad I think so, Pip. A little redness or a little matter of Bone, here or there, what does it signify to Me?
Pip: [If it doesn't signify to you, to whom does it signify?]
Joe: Certainly! That's it. You're right, old chap! When I got acquainted with your sister, it were the talk how she was bringing you up by hand. Very kind of her too, all the folks said, and I said, along with all the folks. As to you, if you could have been aware how small and flabby and mean you was, dear me, you'd have formed the most contemptible opinion of yourself!
Pip: Never mind me, Joe.
Joe: But I did mind you, Pip, when I offered to your sister to keep company, 79and to be asked in church at such times as she was willing and ready to come to the forge, I said to her, “And bring the poor little child. God bless the poor little child,” I said to your sister, “there's room for him at the forge!”
Pip starts to cry and hugs Joe, begging his pardon
Joe: Ever the best of friends; an't us, Pip? Don't cry, old chap! Well, you see, Pip, and here we are! That's about where it lights; here we are! Now, when you take me in hand in my learning, Pip (and I tell you beforehand I am awful dull, most awful dull), Mrs. Joe mustn't see too much of what we're up to. It must be done, as I may say, on the sly. And why on the sly? I'll tell you why, Pip. Your sister is given to government.
Pip: Given to government, Joe?
Joe: Given to government,which I meantersay the government of you and myself.
Pip: Oh!
Joe: And she an't over partial to having scholars on the premises and in partickler would not be 80over partial to my being a scholar, for fear as I might rise. Like a sort or rebel, don't you see?
Pip: Why--
Joe: Stay a bit. I know what you're a-going to say, Pip; stay a bit! I don't deny that your sister comes the Mo-gul over us, now and again. I don't deny that she do throw us back-falls, and that she do drop down upon us heavy. At such times as when your sister is on the Ram-page, Pip, candour compels fur to admit that she is a B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-Buster. Why don't I rise? That were your observation when I broke it off, Pip?
Pip: Yes, Joe.
Joe: Well, your sister's a master-mind. A master-mind.
Pip: What's that?
Joe argues a bit and replies
Joe: Her. And I an't a master-mind. And last of all, Pip - and this I want to say very serious to you, old chap - I see so much in my poor mother, of a woman 81drudging and slaving and breaking her honest hart and never getting no peace in her mortal days, that I'm dead afeerd of going wrong in the way of not doing what's right by a woman, and I'd fur rather of the two go wrong the t'other way, and be a little ill-conwenienced myself. I wish it was only me that got put out, Pip; I wish there warn't no Tickler for you, old chap; I wish I could take it all on myself; but this is the up-and-down-and-straight on it, Pip, and I hope you'll overlook shortcomings.
Howsumever, here's the Dutch-clock a working himself up to being equal to strike Eight of 'em, and she's not come home yet! I hope Uncle Pumblechook's mare mayn't have set a fore-foot on a piece o' ice, and gone down.
Joe makes the fire and sweeps the hearth, then the two wait at the door for Mrs. Joe and Uncle Pumblechook.
82Joe: Here comes the mare, ringing like a peal of bells!
Mrs. Joe and Uncle Pumblechook arrive.
Mrs. Joe: Now, if this boy an't grateful this night, he never will be! It's only to be hoped that he won't be Pompeyed. But I have my fears.
Uncle Pumblechook: She an't in that line, Mum. She knows better.
83Pip mouths “She?” to Joe, who is nonplussed. Mrs. Joe sees the act.
Mrs. Joe: Well? What are you staring at? Is the house a-fire?
Joe: —Which some indiwidual, mentioned—she.
Mrs. Joe: And she is a she, I suppose? Unless you call Miss Havisham a he. And I doubt if even you'll go so far as that.
Joe: Miss Havisham, up town?
Mrs. Joe: Is there any Miss Havisham down town? She wants this boy to go and play there. And of course he's going. And he had better play there or I'll work him.
Joe: Well to be sure! I wonder how she come to know Pip!
Mrs. Joe: Noodle! Who said she knew him?
Joe: —Which some indiwidual 84mentioned that she wanted him to go and play there.
Mrs. Joe: And couldn't she ask Uncle Pumblechook if he knew of a boy to go and play there? Isn't it just barely possible that Uncle Pumblechook may be a tenant of hers, and that he may sometimes –we won't say quarterly or half-yearly, for that would be requiring too much of you – but sometimes –go there to pay his rent? And couldn't she then ask Uncle Pumblechook if he knew of a boy to go and play there? And couldn't Uncle Pumblechook, being always considerate and thoughtful for us – though you may not think it, Joseph, then mention this boy, standing Prancing here that I have for ever been a willing slave to?
Uncle Pumblechook: Good again! Well put! Prettily pointed! Good indeed! Now Joseph, you know the case.
Mrs. Joe: No, Joseph, you do not yet – though you may not think it – know the case. You may consider that you do, but you do not, Joseph. For you do not know that Uncle Pumblechook, being sensible that for anything we can tell, this boy's fortune may be made by his going to Miss Havisham's, has offered to take him into town to-night in his own chaise-cart, and to keep him to-night, and to take him with his own hands to Miss Havisham's to-morrow morning. And Lor-a-mussy me! 85Here I stand talking to mere Mooncalfs, with Uncle Pumblechook waiting, and the mare catching cold at the door, and the boy grimed with crock and dirt from the hair of his head to the sole of his foot!
Mrs. Joe grabs Pip and starts to harshly bathe him. After this, he is put in his best suit and given to Uncle Pumblechook to take him uptown in his chaise-cart.
Uncle Pumblechook: Boy, be for ever grateful to all friends, but especially unto them which brought you up by hand!
Pip: Good-bye, Joe!
Joe: God bless you, Pip, old chap!
They leave as 86Pip wonders what he is expected to play at Miss Havisham’s.
74Pip (in the letter): MI DEER JO i OPE U R KRWITE WELL i OPE i SHAL SON B HABELL 4 2 TEEDGE U JO AN THEN WE SHORL B SO GLODD AN WEN i M PRENGTD 2 U JO WOT LARX AN BLEVE ME INF XN PIP.
Pip gives slate to Joe.
Joe: I say, Pip, old chap! What a scholar you are! An't you?
Pip: I should like to be.
Joe: Why, here's a J, and a O equal to anythink! Here's a J and a O, Pip, and a J-O, Joe.
Pip: Ah! But read the rest, Joe.
Joe: The rest, eh, Pip? 75One, two, three. Why, here's three Js, and three Os, and three J-O, Joes in it, Pip!"
Pip reads him the whole letter
Joe: Astonishing! You ARE a scholar.
Pip: How do you spell Gargery, Joe?
Joe: I don’t spell it at all.
Pip: But supposing you did?
Joe: It can't be supposed. Tho' I'm oncommon fond of reading, too.
Pip: Are you, Joe?
Joe: On-common. Give me a good book, or a good newspaper, and sit me down afore a good fire, and I ask no better. Lord! When you do come to a J and a O, and says you, "Here, at last, is a J-O, Joe," how interesting reading is!
Pip: Didn't you ever go to school, Joe, when you were as little as me?
Joe: No, Pip.
Pip: Why didn't you ever go to school, Joe, when you were as little as me?
Joe: Well, Pip, I'll tell 76you. My father, Pip, he were given to drink, and when he were overtook with drink, he hammered away at my mother, most onmerciful. It were a'most the only hammering he did, indeed, 'xcepting at myself. And he hammered at me with a wigour only to be equalled by the wigour with which he didn't hammer at his anwil. - You're a-listening and understanding, Pip?
Pip: Yes, Joe.
Joe: Consequence, my mother and me we ran away from my father, several times; and then my mother she'd go out to work, and she'd say, "Joe," she'd say, "now, please God, you shall have some schooling, child," and she'd put me to school. But my father were that good in his hart that he couldn't abear to be without us. So, he'd come with a most tremenjous crowd and make such a row at the doors of the houses where we was, that they used to be obligated to have no more to do with us and to give us up to him. And then he took us home and hammered us. Which, you see, Pip, were a drawback on my learning.
Pip: Certainly, poor Joe!
Joe: Though mind you, Pip, rendering unto all their doo, and maintaining equal justice betwixt man and man, my father were that good in his hart, don't you see? Well! Somebody must keep the pot a biling, Pip, or the pot won't bile, don't you know?
77Pip: [Yes, of course]
Joe: Consequence, my father didn't make objections to my going to work; so I went to work to work at my present calling, which were his too, if he would have followed it, and I worked tolerable hard, I assure you, Pip. In time I were able to keep him, and I kept him till he went off in a purple leptic fit. And it were my intentions to have had put upon his tombstone that Whatsume'er the failings on his part, Remember reader he were that good in his hart.
Pip: [Did you make it yourself?]
Joe: I made it my own self. I made it in a moment. It was like striking out a horseshoe complete, in a single blow. I never was so much surprised in all my life - couldn't credit my own ed - to tell you the truth, hardly believed it were my own ed. As I was saying, Pip, it were my intentions to have had it cut over him; but poetry costs money, cut it how you will, small or large, and it were not done. Not to mention bearers, all the money that could be spared were wanted for my mother. She were in poor elth, and quite broke. She weren't long of following, poor soul, and her share of peace come round at last.
It were but lonesome then, living here 78alone, and I got acquainted with your sister. Now, Pip; your sister is a fine figure of a woman. Whatever family opinions, or whatever the world's opinions, on that subject may be, Pip, your sister is a - fine - figure - of - a - woman!
Pip: I am glad you think so, Joe.
Joe: So am I. I am glad I think so, Pip. A little redness or a little matter of Bone, here or there, what does it signify to Me?
Pip: [If it doesn't signify to you, to whom does it signify?]
Joe: Certainly! That's it. You're right, old chap! When I got acquainted with your sister, it were the talk how she was bringing you up by hand. Very kind of her too, all the folks said, and I said, along with all the folks. As to you, if you could have been aware how small and flabby and mean you was, dear me, you'd have formed the most contemptible opinion of yourself!
Pip: Never mind me, Joe.
Joe: But I did mind you, Pip, when I offered to your sister to keep company, 79and to be asked in church at such times as she was willing and ready to come to the forge, I said to her, “And bring the poor little child. God bless the poor little child,” I said to your sister, “there's room for him at the forge!”
Pip starts to cry and hugs Joe, begging his pardon
Joe: Ever the best of friends; an't us, Pip? Don't cry, old chap! Well, you see, Pip, and here we are! That's about where it lights; here we are! Now, when you take me in hand in my learning, Pip (and I tell you beforehand I am awful dull, most awful dull), Mrs. Joe mustn't see too much of what we're up to. It must be done, as I may say, on the sly. And why on the sly? I'll tell you why, Pip. Your sister is given to government.
Pip: Given to government, Joe?
Joe: Given to government,which I meantersay the government of you and myself.
Pip: Oh!
Joe: And she an't over partial to having scholars on the premises and in partickler would not be 80over partial to my being a scholar, for fear as I might rise. Like a sort or rebel, don't you see?
Pip: Why--
Joe: Stay a bit. I know what you're a-going to say, Pip; stay a bit! I don't deny that your sister comes the Mo-gul over us, now and again. I don't deny that she do throw us back-falls, and that she do drop down upon us heavy. At such times as when your sister is on the Ram-page, Pip, candour compels fur to admit that she is a B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-Buster. Why don't I rise? That were your observation when I broke it off, Pip?
Pip: Yes, Joe.
Joe: Well, your sister's a master-mind. A master-mind.
Pip: What's that?
Joe argues a bit and replies
Joe: Her. And I an't a master-mind. And last of all, Pip - and this I want to say very serious to you, old chap - I see so much in my poor mother, of a woman 81drudging and slaving and breaking her honest hart and never getting no peace in her mortal days, that I'm dead afeerd of going wrong in the way of not doing what's right by a woman, and I'd fur rather of the two go wrong the t'other way, and be a little ill-conwenienced myself. I wish it was only me that got put out, Pip; I wish there warn't no Tickler for you, old chap; I wish I could take it all on myself; but this is the up-and-down-and-straight on it, Pip, and I hope you'll overlook shortcomings.
Howsumever, here's the Dutch-clock a working himself up to being equal to strike Eight of 'em, and she's not come home yet! I hope Uncle Pumblechook's mare mayn't have set a fore-foot on a piece o' ice, and gone down.
Joe makes the fire and sweeps the hearth, then the two wait at the door for Mrs. Joe and Uncle Pumblechook.
82Joe: Here comes the mare, ringing like a peal of bells!
Mrs. Joe and Uncle Pumblechook arrive.
Mrs. Joe: Now, if this boy an't grateful this night, he never will be! It's only to be hoped that he won't be Pompeyed. But I have my fears.
Uncle Pumblechook: She an't in that line, Mum. She knows better.
83Pip mouths “She?” to Joe, who is nonplussed. Mrs. Joe sees the act.
Mrs. Joe: Well? What are you staring at? Is the house a-fire?
Joe: —Which some indiwidual, mentioned—she.
Mrs. Joe: And she is a she, I suppose? Unless you call Miss Havisham a he. And I doubt if even you'll go so far as that.
Joe: Miss Havisham, up town?
Mrs. Joe: Is there any Miss Havisham down town? She wants this boy to go and play there. And of course he's going. And he had better play there or I'll work him.
Joe: Well to be sure! I wonder how she come to know Pip!
Mrs. Joe: Noodle! Who said she knew him?
Joe: —Which some indiwidual 84mentioned that she wanted him to go and play there.
Mrs. Joe: And couldn't she ask Uncle Pumblechook if he knew of a boy to go and play there? Isn't it just barely possible that Uncle Pumblechook may be a tenant of hers, and that he may sometimes –we won't say quarterly or half-yearly, for that would be requiring too much of you – but sometimes –go there to pay his rent? And couldn't she then ask Uncle Pumblechook if he knew of a boy to go and play there? And couldn't Uncle Pumblechook, being always considerate and thoughtful for us – though you may not think it, Joseph, then mention this boy, standing Prancing here that I have for ever been a willing slave to?
Uncle Pumblechook: Good again! Well put! Prettily pointed! Good indeed! Now Joseph, you know the case.
Mrs. Joe: No, Joseph, you do not yet – though you may not think it – know the case. You may consider that you do, but you do not, Joseph. For you do not know that Uncle Pumblechook, being sensible that for anything we can tell, this boy's fortune may be made by his going to Miss Havisham's, has offered to take him into town to-night in his own chaise-cart, and to keep him to-night, and to take him with his own hands to Miss Havisham's to-morrow morning. And Lor-a-mussy me! 85Here I stand talking to mere Mooncalfs, with Uncle Pumblechook waiting, and the mare catching cold at the door, and the boy grimed with crock and dirt from the hair of his head to the sole of his foot!
Mrs. Joe grabs Pip and starts to harshly bathe him. After this, he is put in his best suit and given to Uncle Pumblechook to take him uptown in his chaise-cart.
Uncle Pumblechook: Boy, be for ever grateful to all friends, but especially unto them which brought you up by hand!
Pip: Good-bye, Joe!
Joe: God bless you, Pip, old chap!
They leave as 86Pip wonders what he is expected to play at Miss Havisham’s.
