“Well said, Mas’r Davy bor’!” cried Ham, in an ecstasy. “Hoorah! Well said! Nor more you wouldn’t! Hor! Hor!”⁠—Here he returned Mr. Peggotty’s backhander, and little Em’ly got up and kissed Mr. Peggotty. “And how’s your friend, sir?” said Mr. Peggotty to me.

“Steerforth?” said I.

“That’s the name!” cried Mr. Peggotty, turning to Ham. “I knowed it was something in our way.”

“You said it was Rudderford,” observed Ham, laughing.

“Well!” retorted Mr. Peggotty. “And ye steer with a rudder, don’t ye? It ain’t fur off. How is he, sir?”