Not much of a person to look at, he warn’t,’ said Mr. Peggotty, ‘something o’ my own build — rough — a good deal o’ the sou’-wester in him — wery salt — but, on the whole, a honest sort of a chap, with his art in the right place.’

I thought I had never seen Ham grin to anything like the extent to which he sat grinning at us now.

‘What does this here blessed tarpaulin go and do,’ said Mr. Peggotty, with his face one high noon of enjoyment, ‘but he loses that there art of his to our little Em’ly. He follers her about, he makes hisself a sort o’ servant to her, he loses in a great measure his relish for his wittles, and in the long-run he makes it clear to me wot’s amiss.