Mr. Peggotty (who never shut his mouth once, I remember, during the visit) showed great concern when he saw me do this, and nudged Ham to say something.
“Cheer up, Mas’r Davy bor’!” said Ham, in his simpering way. “Why, how you have growed!”
“Am I grown?” I said, drying my eyes. I was not crying at anything particular that I know of; but somehow it made me cry to see old friends.
“Growed, Mas’r Davy bor’? Ain’t he growed!” said Ham.
“Ain’t he growed!” said Mr. Peggotty.
They made me laugh again by laughing at each other, and then we all three laughed until I was in danger of crying again.
“Do you know how mama is, Mr. Peggotty?” I said. “And how my dear, dear, old Peggotty is?”
“Oncommon,” said Mr. Peggotty.
“And little Em’ly, and Mrs. Gummidge?”
“On—common,” said Mr. Peggotty.