Gather ye rosebuds while ye may

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may
girl with a pearl earring vermeer
Gustav Klimt Kiss painting
Head of Christ
After tea, when the door was shut and all was made snug (the nights being cold and misty now), it seemed to me the most delicious retreat that the imagination of man could conceive. To hear the wind getting up out at sea, to know that the fog was creeping over the desolate flat outside, and to look at the fire, and think that there was no house near but this one, and this one a boat, was like enchantment. Little Em'ly had overcome her shyness, and was sitting by my side upon the lowest and least of the lockers, which was just large enough for us two, and just fitted into the chimney corner. Mrs. Peggotty with the white apron, was knitting on the opposite side of the fire. Peggotty at her needlework was as much at home with St. Paul's and the bit of wax-candle,
oil paintingas if they had never known any other roof. Ham, who had been giving me my first lesson in all-fours, was trying to recollect a scheme of telling fortunes with the dirty cards, and was printing off fishy impressions of his thumb on all the cards he turned. Mr. Peggotty was smoking his pipe. I felt it was a time for conversation and confidence. ¡¡¡¡'Mr. Peggotty!' says I. ¡¡¡¡'Sir,' says he. ¡¡¡¡'Did you give your son the name of Ham, because you lived in a sort of ark?' ¡¡¡¡Mr. Peggotty seemed to think it a deep idea, but answered: ¡¡¡¡'No, sir. I never giv him no name.' ¡¡¡¡'Who gave him that name, then?' said I, putting question number two of the catechism to Mr. Peggotty. ¡¡¡¡'Why, sir, his father giv it him,' said Mr. Peggotty. ¡¡¡¡'I thought you were his father!' ¡¡¡¡'My brother Joe was his father,' said Mr. Peggotty. ¡¡¡¡'Dead, Mr. Peggotty?' I hinted, after a respectful pause.