Chapter 42
"Dear boy and Pip's comrade. I am not a-going fur to tell you my
life, like a song or a story-book. But to give it you short and
handy, I'll put it at once into a mouthful of English. In jail and
out of jail, in jail and out of jail, in jail and out of jail.
There, you got it. That's my life pretty much, down to such times
as I got shipped off, arter Pip stood my friend.
"I've been done everything to, pretty well - except hanged. I've
been locked up, as much as a silver tea-kettle. I've been carted
here and carted there, and put out of this town and put out of that
town, and stuck in the stocks, and whipped and worried and drove.
I've no more notion where I was born, than you have - if so much. I
first become aware of myself, down in Essex, a thieving turnips for
my living. Summun had run away from me - a man - a tinker - and
he'd took the fire with him, and left me wery cold.
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