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Great Expectations
Charles Dickens
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Chapter 1
My father’s family name being Pirrip, and my Christianname Philip, my infant tongue could make of both namesnothing longer or more explicit than Pip. So, I calledmyself Pip, and came to be called Pip.I give Pirrip as my father’s family name, on theauthority of his tombstone and my sister - Mrs. JoeGargery, who married the blacksmith. As I never saw myfather 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 werelike, were unreasonably derived from their tombstones.The shape of the letters on my father’s, gave me an oddidea that he was a square, stout, dark man, with curlyblack hair. From the character and turn of the inscription,‘Also Georgiana Wife of the Above,’ I drew a childishconclusion that my mother was freckled and sickly. Tofive little stone lozenges, each about a foot and a half long,which were arranged in a neat row beside their grave, andwere sacred to the memory of five little brothers of mine -who gave up trying to get a living, exceedingly early inthat universal struggle - I am indebted for a belief Ireligiously entertained that they had all been born on their 
 
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865backs with their hands in their trousers-pockets, and hadnever 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. Myfirst most vivid and broad impression of the identity of things, seems to me to have been gained on a memorableraw afternoon towards evening. At such a time I foundout for certain, that this bleak place overgrown withnettles was the churchyard; and that Philip Pirrip, late of this parish, and also Georgiana wife of the above, weredead and buried; and that Alexander, Bartholomew,Abraham, Tobias, and Roger, infant children of theaforesaid, were also dead and buried; and that the dark flatwilderness beyond the churchyard, intersected with dykesand mounds and gates, with scattered cattle feeding on it,was the marshes; and that the low leaden line beyond, wasthe river; and that the distant savage lair from which thewind was rushing, was the sea; and that the small bundleof shivers growing afraid of it all and beginning to cry, wasPip.‘Hold your noise!’ cried a terrible voice, as a manstarted up from among the graves at the side of the churchporch. ‘Keep still, you little devil, or I’ll cut your throat!’
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