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High expectations
My
father
’
s
family
name
being
Pirrip
,
and
my
Christian
name
Philip
,
my
infant
tongue
could
make
of
both
names
nothing
longer
or
more
explicit
than
Pip
.
So
,
I
called
myself
Pip
,
and
came
to
be
called
Pip
.
I
give
Pirrip
as
my
father
’
s
family
name
,
on
the
authority
of
his
tombstone
and
my
sister
—
Mrs
.
Joe
Gargery
,
who
married
the
blacksmith
.
As
I
never
saw
my
father
or
my
mother
,
and
never
saw
any
likeness
of
either
of
them
(
for
their
days
were
long
before
the
days
of
photographs
)
,
my
first
fancies
regarding
what
they
were
like
were
unreasonably
derived
from
their
tombstones
.
The
shape
of
the
letters
on
my
father
’
s
,
gave
me
an
odd
idea
that
he
was
a
square
,
stout
,
dark
man
,
with
curly
black
hair
.
From
the
character
and
turn
of
the
inscription
,
"
Also
Georgiana
Wife
of
the
Above
,
"
I
drew
a
childish
conclusion
that
my
mother
was
freckled
and
sickly
.
To
five
little
stone
lozenges
,
each
about
a
foot
and
a
half
long
,
which
were
arranged
in
a
neat
row
beside
their
grave
,
and
were
sacred
to
the
memory
of
five
little
brothers
of
mine
—
who
gave
up
trying
to
get
a
living
,
exceedingly
early
in
that
universal
struggle
—
I
am
indebted
for
a
belief
I
religiously
entertained
that
they
had
all
been
born
on
their
backs
with
their
hands
in
their
trousers
-
pockets
,
and
had
never
taken
them
out
in
this
state
of
existence
.
Ours
was
the
marsh
country
,
down
by
the
river
,
within
,
as
the
river
wound
,
twenty
miles
of
the
sea
.
My
first
most
vivid
and
broad
impression
of
the
identity
of
things
seems
to
me
to
have
been
gained
on
a
memorable
raw
afternoon
towards
evening
.
At
such
a
time
I
found
out
for
certain
that
this
bleak
place
overgrown
with
nettles
was
the
churchyard
;
and
that
Philip
Pirrip
,
late
of
this
parish
,
and
also
Georgiana
wife
of
the
above
,
were
dead
and
buried
;
and
that
Alexander
,
Bartholomew
,
Abraham
,
Tobias
,
and
Roger
,
infant
children
of
the
aforesaid
,
were
also
dead
and
buried
;
and
that
the
dark
flat
wilderness
beyond
the
churchyard
,
intersected
with
dikes
and
mounds
and
gates
,
with
scattered
cattle
feeding
on
it
,
was
the
marshes
;
and
that
the
low
leaden
line
beyond
was
the
river
;
and
that
the
distant
savage
lair
from
which
the
wind
was
rushing
was
the
sea
;
and
that
the
small
bundle
of
shivers
growing
afraid
of
it
all
and
beginning
to
cry
,
was
Pip
.
"
Hold
your
noise
!
"
cried
a
terrible
voice
,
as
a
man
started
up
from
among
the
graves
at
the
side
of
the
church
porch
.
"
Keep
still
,
you
little
devil
,
or
I
’
ll
cut
your
throat
!
"
A
fearful
man
,
all
in
coarse
gray
,
with
a
great
iron
on
his
leg
.
A
man
with
no
hat
,
and
with
broken
shoes
,
and
with
an
old
rag
tied
round
his
head
.
A
man
who
had
been
soaked
in
water
,
and
smothered
in
mud
,
and
lamed
by
stones
,
and
cut
by
flints
,
and
stung
by
nettles
,
and
torn
by
briars
;
who
limped
,
and
shivered
,
and
glared
,
and
growled
;
and
whose
teeth
chattered
in
his
head
as
he
seized
me
by
the
chin
.
"
Oh
!
Don
’
t
cut
my
throat
,
sir
,
"
I
pleaded
in
terror
.
"
Pray
don
’
t
do
it
,
sir
.
"
"
Tell
us
your
name
!
"
said
the
man
.
"
Quick
!
"
"
Pip
,
sir
.
"
