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Updated: June 4, 2025
It was only after Micawber had found that Uriah Heep had forged Mr. Wickfield's name to various documents, and had fraudulently speculated with moneys entrusted by my aunt, amongst others, to his partner, that he turned upon him and denounced him, and accomplished what he called "the final pulverisation of Keep." Mr.
W. being infirm, and it being within the bounds of probability that his decease might lead to some discoveries, and to the downfall of HEEP'S power over the W. family, as I, Wilkins Micawber, the undersigned, assume unless the filial affection of his daughter could be secretly influenced from allowing any investigation of the partnership affairs to be ever made, the said HEEP deemed it expedient to have a bond ready by him, as from Mr.
Heep, uncomfortably clutching the blue bag he carried, replied that he was pretty well, he thanked my aunt, and hoped she was the same. 'And you, Master I should say, Mister Copperfield, pursued Uriah. 'I hope I see you well! I am rejoiced to see you, Mister Copperfield, even under present circumstances. I believed that; for he seemed to relish them very much.
W. to execute a relinquishment of his share in the partnership, and even a bill of sale on the very furniture of his house, in consideration of a certain annuity, to be well and truly paid by HEEP on the four common quarter-days in each and every year. That these meshes; beginning with alarming and falsified accounts of the estate of which Mr. W. is the receiver, at a period when Mr.
Imagine poor Micawber, or the sneaky Uriah Heep, crying: "I Am Dickens"; or some of the lowly clods in one of Shakespeare's plays, eloquently announcing that: "I Am Shakespeare!"
Micawber was of me when he became clerk to Uriah Heep. However, I now wrote a comforting letter to Mrs. Micawber, in our joint names, and we both signed it. As we walked into town to post it, Traddles and I held a long conference, and launched into a number of speculations, which I need not repeat.
The policeman went to the door, and seeing another just passing beckoned him in, and the two marched him to the station. The plumber was sent for, and was induced to make a charge against Heep and value the stolen goods at ten shillings. Seeing that the police were bound to make a case against him, he seized the plumber's knife and cut his throat, severing the windpipe.
He had a way of dry-washing the backs of his hands like Uriah Heep. "Fine. You'll stay to dinner, now, of course. That's good. That's good. Young folks don't know how it pleasures an old man to meet up with them sometimes." His low voice was as smooth as oil. Beaudry conceived a horror of the man.
Whose is the "spirit" of the characters that we know as Micawber, Oliver Twist, Uriah Heep is it Dickens, or have each of these characters a personal spirit, independent of their creator? Have the Venus of Medici, the Sistine Madonna, the Apollo Belvidere, spirits and reality of their own, or do they represent the spiritual and mental power of their creators?
The last words were unfortunate. "Looks like you keer a heep fer yo' trees," sneered the mountain boy with a wave of his pistol toward a demolished woodland; "an' if our trees air so wuthless, whut do you furriners come down thar and rob us of 'em fer?" The sneer, the tone, and the bitter emphasis on the one ugly word turned Gray's face quite red.
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