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1Now, when I saw Joe open his blue eyes and roll them all round the kitchen in helpless amazement, I was overtaken by
2penitence; but only as regarded him,--not in the least as regarded the other two. Towards Joe, and Joe only, I
3considered myself a young monster, while they sat debating what results would come to me from Miss Havisham's
4acquaintance and favour. They had no doubt that Miss Havisham would "do something" for me; their doubts related to the
5form that something would take. My sister stood out for "property." Mr. Pumblechook was in favour of a handsome premium
6for binding me apprentice to some genteel trade,--say, the corn and seed trade, for instance. Joe fell into the deepest
7disgrace with both, for offering the bright suggestion that I might only be presented with one of the dogs who had
8fought for the veal-cutlets. "If a fool's head can't express better opinions than that," said my sister, "and you have
9got any work to do, you had better go and do it." So he went. After Mr. Pumblechook had driven off, and when my sister
10was washing up, I stole into the forge to Joe, and remained by him until he had done for the night. Then I said, "Before
11the fire goes out, Joe, I should like to tell you something." "Should you, Pip?" said Joe, drawing his shoeing-stool
12near the forge. "Then tell us. What is it, Pip?" "Joe," said I, taking hold of his rolled-up shirt sleeve, and twisting
13it between my finger and thumb, "you remember all that about Miss Havisham's?" "Remember?" said Joe. "I believe you!
14Wonderful!" "It's a terrible thing, Joe; it ain't true." "What are you telling of, Pip?" cried Joe, falling back in the
15greatest amazement. "You don't mean to say it's--" "Yes I do; it's lies, Joe." "But not all of it? Why sure you don't
16mean to say, Pip, that there was no black welwet co--eh?" For, I stood shaking my head. "But at least there was dogs,
17Pip? Come, Pip," said Joe, persuasively, "if there warn't no weal-cutlets, at least there was dogs?" "No, Joe." "A dog?"
18said Joe. "A puppy? Come?" "No, Joe, there was nothing at all of the kind." As I fixed my eyes hopelessly on Joe, Joe
19contemplated me in dismay. "Pip, old chap! This won't do, old fellow! I say! Where do you expect to go to?" "It's
20terrible, Joe; ain't it?" "Terrible?" cried Joe. "Awful! What possessed you?" "I don't know what possessed me, Joe," I
21replied, letting his shirt sleeve go, and sitting down in the ashes at his feet, hanging my head; "but I wish you hadn't
22taught me to call Knaves at cards Jacks; and I wish my boots weren't so thick nor my hands so coarse." And then I told
23Joe that I felt very miserable, and that I hadn't been able to explain myself to Mrs. Joe and Pumblechook, who were so
24rude to me, and that there had been a beautiful young lady at Miss Havisham's who was dreadfully proud, and that she had
25said I was common, and that I knew I was common, and that I wished I was not common, and that the lies had come of it
26somehow, though I didn't know how. This was a case of metaphysics, at least as difficult for Joe to deal with as for me.
27But Joe took the case altogether out of the region of metaphysics, and by that means vanquished it. "There's one thing
28you may be sure of, Pip," said Joe, after some rumination, "namely, that lies is lies. Howsever they come, they didn't
29ought to come, and they come from the father of lies, and work round to the same. Don't you tell no more of 'em, Pip.
30That ain't the way to get out of being common, old chap. And as to being common, I don't make it out at all clear. You
31are oncommon in some things. You're oncommon small. Likewise you're a oncommon scholar." "No, I am ignorant and
32backward, Joe." "Why, see what a letter you wrote last night! Wrote in print even! I've seen letters--Ah! and from
33gentlefolks!--that I'll swear weren't wrote in print," said Joe. "I have learnt next to nothing, Joe. You think much of
34me. It's only that." "Well, Pip," said Joe, "be it so or be it son't, you must be a common scholar afore you can be a
35oncommon one, I should hope! The king upon his throne, with his crown upon his ed, can't sit and write his acts of
36Parliament in print, without having begun, when he were a unpromoted Prince, with the alphabet.--Ah!" added Joe, with a
37shake of the head that was full of meaning, "and begun at A too, and worked his way to Z. And I know what that is to do,
38though I can't say I've exactly done it." There was some hope in this piece of wisdom, and it rather encouraged me.
39"Whether common ones as to callings and earnings," pursued Joe, reflectively, "mightn't be the better of continuing for
40to keep company with common ones, instead of going out to play with oncommon ones,--which reminds me to hope that there
41were a flag, perhaps?" "No, Joe." "(I'm sorry there weren't a flag, Pip). Whether that might be or mightn't be, is a
42thing as can't be looked into now, without putting your sister on the Rampage; and that's a thing not to be thought of
43as being done intentional. Lookee here, Pip, at what is said to you by a true friend. Which this to you the true friend
44say. If you can't get to be oncommon through going straight, you'll never get to do it through going crooked. So don't
45tell no more on 'em, Pip, and live well and die happy." "You are not angry with me, Joe?" "No, old chap. But bearing in
46mind that them were which I meantersay of a stunning and outdacious sort,--alluding to them which bordered on
47weal-cutlets and dog-fighting,--a sincere well-wisher would adwise, Pip, their being dropped into your meditations, when
48you go upstairs to bed. That's all, old chap, and don't never do it no more." When I got up to my little room and said
49my prayers, I did not forget Joe's recommendation, and yet my young mind was in that disturbed and unthankful state,
50that I thought long after I laid me down, how common Estella would consider Joe, a mere blacksmith; how thick his boots,
51and how coarse his hands. I thought how Joe and my sister were then sitting in the kitchen, and how I had come up to bed
52from the kitchen, and how Miss Havisham and Estella never sat in a kitchen, but were far above the level of such common
53doings. I fell asleep recalling what I "used to do" when I was at Miss Havisham's; as though I had been there weeks or
54months, instead of hours; and as though it were quite an old subject of remembrance, instead of one that had arisen only
55that day. That was a memorable day to me, for it made great changes in me. But it is the same with any life. Imagine one
56selected day struck out of it, and think how different its course would have been. Pause you who read this, and think
57for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the
58formation of the first link on one memorable day.
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