 Section 5 of Hard Times by Charles Dickens, Chapter 9 and 10. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Hard Times, Chapter 9. Sissy's Progress. Sissy Joop had not an easy time of it between Mr. M. Chokamchild and Mrs. Gradgrind and was not without strong impulses in the first months of her probation to run away. It hailed facts all day long so very hard and life in general was open to her as such a closely ruled ciphering book that assuredly she would have run away but for only one restraint. It is lamentable to think of, but this restraint was the result of no arithmetical process, was self-imposed in defiance of all calculation and went dead against any table of probabilities that any actuary would have drawn up from the premises. The girl believed that her father had not deserted her. She lived in the hope that he would come back and in the faith that he would be made the happier by her remaining where she was. The wretched ignorance with which Joop clung to this consolation, rejecting the superior comfort of knowing on a sound arithmetical basis that her father was an unnatural vagabond, filled Mr. Gradgrind with pity. Yet what was to be done? M. Chokamchild reported that she had a very dense head for figures that, once possessed with a general idea of the globe, she took the smallest conceivable interest in its exact measurements that she was extremely slow in the acquisition of dates unless some pitiful incident happened to be concerned therewith. That she would burst into tears on being required by the mental process, immediately to name the cost of 247 Muslim caps at 14 pence apenny. That she was as low down in the school as low could be. That, after eight weeks of induction into the elements of political economy, she had only yesterday been set right by a pratler three feet high for returning to the question, what is the first principle of this science? The absurd answer to do unto others as I would that they should do unto me. Mr. Gradgrind observed, shaking his head that all this was very bad, that it showed the necessity of infinite grinding at the mill of knowledge as per system. Schedule, blue book, report, and tabular statements, A to Z, and that jupe must be kept to it. So, jupe was kept to it and became low spirited, but no wiser. It would be a fine thing to be you, Miss Louisa. She said one night when Louisa had endeavored to make her perplexities for next day something clearer to her. Do you think so? I should know so much, Miss Louisa. All that is difficult to me now would be so easy then. You might not be better for it, Sissy. Sissy submitted after a little hesitation. I should not be the worst, Miss Louisa, to which Louisa answered. Oh, I don't know that. There had been so little communication between these two, both because life at Stone Lodge went monotonously round like a piece of machinery, which discouraged human interference, and because of the prohibition relative to Sissy's past career, that they were still almost strangers. Sissy, with her dark eyes, wanderingly directed to Louisa's face, was uncertain whether to say more or to remain silent. You are more useful to my mother and more pleasant with me than I can ever be, Louisa resumed. You are pleasanter to yourself than I am to myself. But if you please, Miss Louisa, says, as he pleaded, I am oh, so stupid. Louisa, with a brighter laugh than usual, told her she would be wiser by and by. Oh, you don't know, said Sissy, half-crying. What a stupid girl I am. All through school hours I make mistakes. Mr. and Mrs. M. Chokam Child call me up over and over again regularly to make mistakes. I can't help them. They seem to come natural to me. Mr. and Mrs. M. Chokam Child never make any mistakes himself, I suppose, Sissy. Oh, no, she eagerly returned. They know everything. Well, tell me some of your mistakes. I am almost ashamed, said Sissy, with reluctance. But today, for instance, Mr. M. Chokam Child was explaining to us about natural prosperity. National, I think it must have been, observed Louisa. Yes, it was. But isn't it the same, she timidly asked? You had better say national, as he said so, returned Louisa with her dry reserve. National prosperity. And he said, now the schoolroom is a nation. And in this nation there are 50 millions of money. Isn't this a prosperous nation? Girl number 20. Isn't this a prosperous nation? And ain't you in a thriving state? What did you say, asked Louisa? Mr. Louisa, I said I didn't know. I thought I couldn't know whether it was a prosperous nation or not, and whether I was in a thriving state or not, unless I knew who had got the money and whether any of it was mine. But that had nothing to do with it. It was not in the figures at all, said Sissy, wiping her eyes. That was a great mistake of yours, observed Louisa. Yes, Mr. Louisa, I know it was now. Then Mr. M. Chokam Child said he would try me again, and he said this schoolroom is an immense town. And in it there are a million of inhabitants, and only five and twenty are starved to death in the streets, in the course of a year. What is your remark on that proportion? And my remark was, I couldn't think of a better one, that I thought it must be just as hard upon those who were starved, whether the others were a million or a million million. And that was wrong too. Of course it is. Then Mr. M. Chokam Child said he would try me once more, and he said, oh, here are the stutterings. Statistics, said Louisa. Yes, Mr. Louisa. They always remind me of stutterings, and that's another of my mistakes, of accidents upon the sea. And I find, Mr. M. Chokam Child said, that in a given time a hundred thousand persons went to sea on long voyages, and only five hundred of them were drowned or burnt to death. What is the percentage? And I said, Miss, here, Sissy, fairly sobbed as confessing with extreme contrition to her greatest error. I said it was nothing. Nothing, Sissy. Nothing, Miss, to the relations and friends of the people who were killed. I shall never learn, said Sissy. And the worst of it is that although my poor father wished me to, so much to learn, and although I'm anxious to learn, because he wished me to, I'm afraid I don't like it. Louisa stood looking at the pretty modest head as it drooped a bash before her until it was raised again to glance at her face. Then she asked, did your father know so much himself that he wished you to be well-taught too, Sissy? Sissy hesitated before replying, and so plainly showed her sense that they were entering on forbidden ground that Louisa added, No one hears us, and if anyone did, I'm sure no harm could be found in such an innocent question. No, Miss Louisa answered Sissy upon this encouragement shaking her head. Father knows very little indeed. It's as much as he can do to write, and it's more than people in general can do to read his writing, though it is plain to me. And your mother? Father says she was quite a scholar. She died when I was born. She was, Sissy made the terrible communication nervously. She was a dancer. Did your father love her? Louisa asked these questions with a strong, wild, wandering interest peculiar to her. An interest gone astray like a banished creature and hiding in solitary places. Oh yes, as dearly as he loves me. Father loved me. First, for her sake, he carried me about with him when I was quite a baby. We have never been asunder from that time. Yet he leaves you now, Sissy. Only for my good nobody understands him as I do. Nobody knows him as I do. When he left me for my good he never would have left me for his own. I know he was almost broken hearted with the trial. He will not be happy for a single minute till he comes back. Tell me more about him, said Louisa. I will never ask you again. Where did you live? We traveled about the country and had no fixed place to live in. Father's eh? Sissy whispered the awful word. A clown. To make the people laugh, said Louisa, with a nod of intelligence. Yes, but they wouldn't laugh sometimes. And then Father cried. Lately they very often wouldn't laugh. And he used to come home despairing. Father's not like most. Those who didn't know him as well as I do and didn't love him as dearly as I do might believe he was not quite right. Sometimes they played tricks upon him. They never knew how he felt them. And shrunk up when he was alone with me. He was far, far timider than they thought. And you were his comfort through everything? She nodded with the tears rolling down her face. I hope so. And Father said I was. It was because he grew so scared and trembling and because he felt himself to be a poor, weak, ignorant, helpless man. Those used to be his words. That he wanted me so much to know a great deal and be different from him. I used to read him to cheer his courage and he was very fond of that. They were wrong books. I'm never to speak of them here, but we didn't know there was any harm in them. And he liked them, said Louisa, with her searching gaze on Sissy all the time. Oh, very much. They kept him many times from what did him real harm. And often of a night he used to forget all his troubles and wondering whether the sultan would let the lady go on with the story or would have her head cut off before it was finished. And your father was always kind to the last, asked Louisa, contravening the great principle and wondering very much. Always, always returned Sissy, clasping her hands, kinder than I can tell. He was angry only one night and that was not to me, but Mary Legs, Mary Legs, she whispered the awful fact, is his performing dog. Why was he angry with the dog, Louisa demanded. Father, soon after they came home from performing, told Mary Legs to jump up on the backs of the two chairs and stand across them, which is one of his tricks. He looked at father and didn't do it at once. Everything of fathers had gone wrong that night and he hadn't pleased the public at all. He cried out that the very dog knew he was failing and had no compassion on him. Then he beat the dog and I was frightened and said, Father, Father, pray don't hurt the creature who is so fond of you. Oh, heaven forgive you, Father, stop. And he stopped and the dog was bloody. And father lay down crying on the floor with the dog in his arms and the dog licked his face. Louisa saw that she was sobbing and going to her kisture, took her hand and sat down beside her. Finished by telling me how your father left you, Sissy, now that I have asked you so much, tell me the end. The blame, if there is any, blame is mine, not yours. My dear Miss Louisa said, Sissy, covering her eyes and sobbing yet. I came home from school that afternoon and found poor father just come home too from the booth. And he sat rocking himself over the fire. As if he was in pain and I said, Have you hurt yourself, Father? As he did sometimes, like they all did, and he said, A little, my darling. And when I came to stoop down and look up at his face, I saw he was crying. The more I spoke to him, the more he hid his face. And at first he shook all over and said nothing but my darling and my love. Here Tom came lounging in and stared at the two with a coolness, not particularly savoring of interest in anything but himself, and not much of that at present. I'm asking Sissy a few questions, Tom, observed his sister. You have no occasion to go away, but don't interrupt us for a moment, Tom, dear. Oh, very well, returned Tom. Only father has brought old Boundaby home, and I want you to come into the drawing room, because if you come, there's a good chance of old Boundaby's asking me to dinner, and if you don't, there's none. I'll come directly. I'll wait for you, said Tom, to make sure. Sissy resumed in a lower voice. That last poor father said that he had given no satisfaction again, and never did give any satisfaction now, and that he was a shame and a disgrace, and I should have done better without him all along. I said all the affectionate things to him that came into my heart, and presently he was quiet, and I sat down by him and told him all about the school and everything that had been said and done there. When I had no more left to tell, he put his arms around my neck and kissed me a great many times. Then he asked me to fetch some of the stuff he had used for the little hurt he had had, and to get it at the best place, which was at the other end of the town from there, and then, after kissing me again, he let me go. When I had gone downstairs, I turned back that I might be a little bit more company to him yet, and looked in at the door and said, Father, dear, shall I take Mary legs? Father shook his head and said, No, Sissy, no. Take nothing that's known to be mine, my darling. And I left him sitting by the fire. Then the thought must have come upon him, poor, poor father, of going away to try something for my sake, for when I came back, he was gone. I say, look sharp for old bound to be loo, Tom remonstrated. There's nothing more to tell, Miss Louisa. I kept benign oils ready for him, and I know he will come back. Every letter that I see in Mr. Gradgrine's hands takes my breath away and blinds my eyes for I think it comes from Father. Or from Mr. Slary about Father, Mr. Slary promised to write as soon as ever Father should be heard of, and I trust him to keep his word. Do look sharp for old bound to be loo, said Tom with an impatient whistle. He'll be off if you don't look sharp. After this, whenever Sissy dropped a curtsy to Mr. Gradgrine in the presence of his family and said in a faltering way, I beg your pardon, sir, for being troublesome, but have you had any letter yet about me? Louisa would suspend the occupation of the moment, whatever it was, and look for a reply as earnestly as Sissy did. And when Mr. Gradgrine regularly answered, no, Jupe, nothing of the sort, the trembling of Sissy's lip, would be repeated in Louisa's face, and her eyes would follow Sissy with compassion to the door. Mr. Gradgrine usually improved these occasions by remarking when she was gone that if Jupe had been properly trained from an early age, she would have demonstrated to herself on sound principles the baselessness of these fantastic hopes. Yet it did seem, though not to him, for he saw nothing of it, as if fantastic hope could take as strong a hold as fact. This observation must be limited exclusively to his daughter. As to Tom, he was becoming that not unprecedented triumph of calculation, which is usually at work on number one. As to Mrs. Gradgrine, if she said anything on the subject, she would come a little way out of her wrappers, like a feminine doormouse and say, Good gracious bless me, how my poor head is vexed and worried by that girl, Jupe's so perseveringly asking over and over again about her tiresome letters. Upon my word and honor I seem to be fated and destined and ordained to live in the midst of things that I am never to hear the last of. It really is a most extraordinary circumstance that appears as if I never was to hear the last of anything. At about this point Mr. Gradgrine's eye would fall upon her and under the influence of that wintry piece of fact she would become torfid again. Chapter 10. Stefan Blackpool I entertain a weak idea that the English people are as hard-worked as any people upon whom the sun shines. I acknowledge to this ridiculous idiosyncrasy as a reason why I would give them a little more play. In the hardest working part of Coke Town, in the innermost fortifications of that ugly citadel, where nature was as strongly bricked out as killing airs and gases were bricked in, at the heart of that labyrinth of narrow courts upon courts, and close streets upon streets which had come into existence piecemeal, every piece in a violent hurry for some one man's purpose, and the whole and unnatural family shouldering and trampling and pressing one another to death. In that last close nook of this great exhausted receiver, where the chimneys for want of air to make a draft were built in an immense variety of stunted and crooked shapes as though every house put out a sign of the kind of people who might be expected to be born in it, among the multitude of Coke Town generically called the hands. A race who would have found more favor with some people if providence had seen fit to make them only hands, or like the lower creatures of the seashore, only hands and stomachs, lived a certain Steffen Blackpool forty years of age. Steffen looked older, but he had had a hard life. It is said that every life has its roses and thorns. There seemed, however, to have been a misadventure or mistake in Steffen's case, whereby somebody else had become possessed of his roses, and he had become possessed of that same somebody else's thorns in addition to his own. He had known, to use his words, a peck of trouble. He was usually called old Steffen in a kind of rough homage to the fact. A rather stooping man with a knitted brow, a pondering expression of face, and a hard-looking head sufficiently capacious on which his iron gray hair lay long and thin, although old Steffen might have passed for a particularly intelligent man in his condition, yet he was not. He took no place among those remarkable hands who, piecing together their broken intervals of leisure through many years, had mastered difficult sciences and acquired a knowledge of most unlikely things. He held no station among the hands who could make speeches and carry on debates. Thousands of his com peers could talk much better than he at any time. He was a good power loom weaver and a man of perfect integrity. What more he was or what else he had in him, if anything, let him show for himself. The lights in the great factories which looked when they were illuminated like fairy palaces or the travellers by express trains said so, were all extinguished, and the bells had rung for knocking off for the night and had ceased again, and the hands, men and women, boy and girl, were clattering home. Old Steffen was standing in the street with the odd sensation upon him which the stoppage of the machinery always produced, the sensation of its having worked and stopped in his own head. Yet I don't see Rachel still, said he. It was a wet night, and many groups of young women passed him with their shawls drawn over their bare heads and held close unto their chins to keep the rain out. He knew Rachel well for a glance that any one of those groups was sufficient to show him that she was not there. At last there was no more to come, and then he turned away, saying in a tone of disappointment, why then I have missed her. But he had not gone the length of three streets when he saw another of the shawl figures in advance of him, which he looked so keenly that perhaps its mere shadow indistinctly reflected on the wet pavement. If he could have seen it without the figure itself moving along from lamp to lamp, brightening and fading as it went, would have been enough to tell him who was there. Making his pace at once much quicker and much softer, he darted on until he was very near this figure, and fell into his former walk and called Rachel. She turned, being then in the brightness of a lamp and raising her hood a little, showed a quiet oval face, dark and rather delicate, irradiated by a pair of very gentle eyes and further set off by the perfect order of her shining black hair. It was not a face in its first bloom. She was a woman five and thirty years of age. Ah, lad, tis thou. When she had said this with a smile which would have been quite expressed, though nothing of her had been seen, but her pleasant eyes, she replaced her hood again, and they went on together. I thought thou was behind me, Rachel. No, early to-night last. I'm a little early, Stephen, times a little late. I'm never to be countered on going home. Nor go another way, neither it seems to me, Rachel. No, Stephen. He looked at her with some disappointment in his face, but with a respectful and patient conviction that she must be right in whatever she did. The expression was not lost upon her. She laid her hand lightly on his arm a moment to thank him for it. We are such true friends, lad, and such old friends, and get to be such old folk now. No, Rachel, thou art as young as ever thou wasst. One of us would be puzzled how to get old, Stephen, without Tother getting so, too, both being alive. She answered, laughing, but, anyways, were such old friends that to hide a word of honest truth fro one another would be a sin and a pity. Tis better not to walk too much farther. Times, yes, could be hard, indeed, if it was not to be at all. She said, with a cheerfulness, she sought to communicate to him. Tis hard, anyways, Rachel. Try to think not, and we'll seem better. I've tried a long time and Taint got better, but thou art right to make folk talk even of thee. Thou hast been that to me, Rachel. Through so many years thou hast done me so much good and heartened of me in that cheer and way that thy word is law to me. Ah, lass, and a bright good law, better than some real ones. Oh, never fret about them, Steph, and she answered quickly, and not without an anxious glance at his face. Let the laws be. Yes, he said with a slow nod or two, let them be, let everything be, let all sorts alone. Tis a muddle, and that's awe. Always a muddle, said Rachel, with another gentle touch upon his arm as if to recall him out of the thoughtfulness in which he was biting the long ends of his loose neckerchief as he walked along. The touch had its instantaneous effect. He let them fall, turning a smiling face upon her, he said, as he broke into a good, humoured laugh. Ah, he, Rachel, less. All is a muddle. That's where I stick. I come to the muddle many times and again, and I never get beyond it. They had walked some distance and were near their own homes. The woman's was the first reach. It was in one of the many small streets for which the favourite undertaker, who turned a handsome sum out of the poor, ghastly pomp of the neighbourhood, kept a black ladder in order that those who had done their daily groping up and down the narrow streets might slide out of this working world by the windows. She stopped at the corner and, putting her hand in his, wished him good night. Good night, dear lass. Good night. She went with her neat figure and her sober womanly step down the dark street, and he stood looking after until she turned into one of the small houses. There was not a flutter of her coarse shawl, perhaps, but had its interest in this man's eyes, not a tone of her voice, but had its echo in his innermost heart. When she was lost to his view, he pursued his homeward way, glancing up sometimes to the sky, where the clouds were sailing fast and wildly, but they were broken now and the rain had ceased and the moon shone, looking down the high chimneys of Coke Town on the deep furnaces below and casting titanic shadows of the steam engines at rest upon the walls where they were lodged. The man seemed to have brightened with the night as he went on. His home in such another street as the first, saving that it was narrower, was over a little shop. How it came to pass that any people found it worth their while to sell or buy the wretched little toys mixed up in its window with cheap newspapers and pork there was a leg to be raffled for tomorrow night matters not here. He took his end of candle from a shelf, lighted it at another end of candle on the counter without disturbing the mistress of the shop who was asleep in her little room and went upstairs into his lodging. It was a room not unequated with the black ladder under various tenets, but as neat and present as such a room could be. A few books and writings were on an old bureau in a corner, the furniture was decent and sufficient, and though the atmosphere was tainted, the room was clean. Going to the hearth he set the candle down upon the round three-legged table, standing there. He stumbled against something as he recoiled, looking down at it. It raised itself up into the form of a woman in sitting attitude. Heaven's mercy woman, he cried, falling farther off from the figure, hast thou come back again? Such a woman! A disabled drunken creature barely able to reserve her sitting posture by steadying herself with one begrimed hand on the floor while the other was so purposeless as trying to push away her tangled hair from her face that it only blinded her the more with the dirt upon it. A creature so foul to look at in her tatters, stains and splashes, but so much fouler than that in her moral infamy that it was a shameful thing even to see her. After an impatient oath or two and some stupid clawing at herself with a hand not necessary to her support, she got her hair away from her eyes sufficiently to obtain a sight of him. Then she sat swaying her body to and fro and making gestures with her unnerved arm which seemed intended as the accompaniment to a fit of laughter though her face was stolid and drowsy. If let, what's your there? Some hoarse sounds meant for this came mockingly out of her at last and her head dropped forward on her breast. Back again? She screeched after some minutes as if he had that moment said it. Yes, and back again back again ever and ever so often back. Yes, back, why not? Roused by the unmeaning voice with which she cried it out she scrambled out and stood supporting herself with her shoulders against the wall dangling in one hand by the string of a dung-hill fragment of a bonnet and trying to look scornfully at him. I'll sell thee off again I'll sell thee off again I'll sell thee off a score of time she cried with something between a furious menace and an effort at defiant dance. Come o'er from the bed he was sitting on the side of it with his face hidden in his hands. Come o'er from t' tis mine and I have her right to it as she staggered to it he avoided her with a shudder and passed till his face was hidden to the opposite end of the room she threw herself upon the bed heavily and soon was snoring hard he sunk into a chair and moved but once all that night it was to throw a covering over her as if his hands were not enough to hide her even in the darkness. End of section 5 of Hard Times Section 6 of Hard Times This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Roslund Wills Hard Times by Charles Dickens Section 6, chapters 11 and 12 Chapter 11 No Way Out The fairy palaces burst into illumination before pale mourning showed the monstrous serpents of smoke trailing themselves over Coketown. A clattering of clogs upon the pavement a rapid ringing of bells and all the melancholy mad elephants polished and oiled up for the day's monotony were at their heavy exercise again. Stephen bent over his loom quiet, watchful and steady a special contrast as every man was in the forest of looms where Stephen worked to the crashing, smashing, tearing piece of mechanism at which he labored never fear good people of an anxious turn of mind that art will consign nature to oblivion set anywhere side by side the work of God and the work of man and the former even though it be a troop of hands a very small account will gain indignity from the comparison. So many hundred hands in this mill so many hundred horse steam power it is known to the force of a single pound weight what the engine will do but not all the calculators of eternal debt can tell me the capacity for good or evil for love or hatred for patriotism or discontent for the decomposition of virtue into vice or the reverse at any single moment in the soul of one of these it's quiet servants with the composed faces and the regulated actions there is no mystery in it there is an unfathomable mystery in the meanest of them forever supposing we were to reverse our arithmetic for material objects and to govern these awful unknown quantities by other means the day grew strong and showed itself outside even against the flaming lights within the lights were turned out and the work went on the rain fell and the smoke serpents submissive to the curse of all that tribe trailed themselves upon the earth in the waste yard outside the steam from the escape pipe the litter of barrels and old iron the shining heaps of coals the ashes everywhere were shrouded in a veil of mist and rain the work went on until the noon bell rang more clattering upon the pavements the looms and wheels and hands all out of gear for an hour Steven came out of the hot mill into the damp wind and cold wet streets haggard and worn he turned from his own class in his own quarter taking nothing but a little bread as he walked along towards the hill on which his principal employer lived in a red house with black outside shutters, green inside blinds a black street door up to white steps Bounderby in letters very like himself upon a brazen plate and a round brazen door handle underneath it like a brazen full stop Mr. Bounderby was at his lunch so Steven had expected would his servant say that one of the hands begged leave to speak to him message in return requiring name of such hand Steven Blackpool there was nothing troublesome against Steven Blackpool yes he might come in Steven Blackpool in the parlor Mr. Bounderby whom he just knew by sight at lunch on chop and sherry Mrs. Sparsit netting at the fireside in a sidesaddle attitude with one foot in a cotton stirrup it was a part at once of Mrs. Sparsit's dignity and service not to lunch she supervised the meal officially but implied that in her own stately person she considered lunch a weakness now Steven said Mr. Bounderby what's the matter with you Steven made a bow not a servile one these hands will never do that lord bless you sir you'll never catch them at that if they have been with you 20 years and as a complimentary toilet for Mrs. Sparsit tucked his neckerchief ends into his waistcoat now you know said Mr. Bounderby taking some sherry we've never had any difficulty with you and you've never been one of the unreasonable ones you don't expect to be set up in a coach in six and to be fed on turtle soup and venison with a gold spoon is a good many of them do Mr. Bounderby always represented this to be the sole immediate and direct object of any hand who is not entirely satisfied and therefore I know already that you have not come here to make a complaint now you know I am certain of that beforehand no sir sure I have not come for now to the kind Mr. Bounderby seemed agreeably surprised notwithstanding his previous strong conviction very well he returned you're a steady hand and I was not mistaken now let me hear what it's all about as it's not that let me hear what it is what have you got to say out with it lad Stephen happened to glance toward Mrs. Sparsit I can go Mr. Bounderby if you wish it said that self-sacrificing lady making a faint of taking her foot out of the stirrup Mr. Bounderby stayed her by holding a mouth full of chop and suspension before swallowing it and putting out his left hand by drawing his hand and swallowing his mouth full of chop he said to Stephen now you know this good lady is a born lady a high lady you are not to suppose because she keeps my house for me that she hasn't been very high up the tree up at the top of the tree now if you have got anything to say that can't be said before a born lady this lady will leave the room if what you have got to say can be said before a born lady this lady will stay where she is sir I hope I never had a born lady a year seeing I were born my sin was the reply accompanied with a slight flush very well said Mr. Bounderby pushing away his plate and leaning back fire away I had come Stephen began raising his eyes from the floor after a moment's consideration to ask you your advice I needed all much I was married on Easter Monday 19 years sin long injury prettier now with good accounts of her son well she went bad soon no longer me go knows I were not non kind husband to her I've heard all this before said Mr. Bounderby she took to drinking left off working sold the furniture palm the clothes and played old gooseberry I were patient where the more fool you I think said Mr. Bounderby in confidence to his wine glass I were very patient where I tried to wean her front born Oregon I tried this I tried that I tried other I had gone home many of the time and found all vanished as I had in the world and her without a sense left to bless her cell lying on bare ground I had done it not once not twice 20 times every line in his face deepened as he said it and put in its effecting evidence of the suffering he had undergone from bad to worse from worse to worsen she left me she disgraced her cell she weighs bitter and bad she come back she come back she come back what could I do to hinder her I awoke the streets nights long wherever I'd go home I had gone to the brig minded to fling my cell no one had no moron I abhor that much that I were old when I were young Mrs. Sparsit easily ambling along with her netting needles raised the coriolanian eyebrows and shook her head as much as to say the great no trouble as well as the small please to turn your humble eye in my direction I had paid her to keep away from me these five years I had paid her I had gotten decent futurals about me again I had lived hard and sad but not ashamed and fearful of the minutes of my life last night I went home there she lay upon my hearthstone there she is in the strength of his misfortune and the energy of his distress he fired for the moment like a proud man in another moment he stood as he had stood all the time his usual stoop upon him his pondering face addressed to Mr. Boundary with a curious expression on it half shrewd half perplexed as if his mind were set upon unraveling something very difficult his hat held tight in his left hand which rested on his hip his right arm with a rugged propriety and force of action very earnestly emphasizing what he said not least so when it always paused a little bent but not withdrawn as he paused I was acquainted with all this you know said Mr. Boundary except the last clause long ago it's a bad job that's what it is you had better have been satisfied as you were and not have got married however it is too late to say that was it an unequal marriage sir in point of years asked Mrs. Sparsit you here with this lady asks was it an unequal marriage in point of years this unlucky job of yours Mr. Boundary not even so I were one in twenty myself she were twenty nine but indeed sir said Mrs. Sparsit to her chief with great placidity I inferred from its being so miserable a marriage that it was probably an unequal one in point of years Mr. Boundary looked very hard at the good lady in a side long way that had an odd sheepishness about it he fortified himself with a little more sherry well why don't you go on he then asked turning rather irritably on Steven Blackpool I come to ask you sir how I am to be ready to this woman Steven infused a yet deeper gravity into the mixed expression of his attentive face Mrs. Sparsit uttered a gentle ejaculation as having received a moral shock what do you mean said Boundary getting up to lean his back against the chimney piece what are you talking about you took it for better or for worse I cannot bear it no more I lived under it so long for that I had in the pity and comforting words of the best last living or dead happily before her I should have gone battering mad he wishes to be free to marry the female of whom he speaks I fear sir observed Mrs. Sparsit in an undertone and much dejected by the immorality of the people I do the lady says what's right I do I were a common to it I already the papers that great folk far from all I wishes them no hurt are not bonded together for better for worse so fast but that they can be set free for their misfortune marriages and marry over again when they do not agree for that their tempers is ill sorted they has rooms of one kind and another in their houses above a bit and they can live asunders we folk only one room and we can't when that won't do they are going to another cash and they can say this for you for me and they can go their separate ways we can't despite all that they can be set free for smaller wrongs than mine so I won't be ridden of this woman and I want to know how know how return Mr. Boundaby if I do or any hurt sir there's a law to punish me of course there is if I flee from her there's a law to punish me of course there is if I marry to other dear lass there's a law to punish me if I was to live where and not marry her saying such a thing could be which it never could or would in her so good there's a law to punish me and every innocent child belonging to me of course there is now a god's name said Steven Blackpool show me the law to help me there's a sanctity in this relation of life said Mr. Boundaby and it must be kept up no no do not say that sir town cupped up that way not that way just kept down that way I'm a weaver I were in a factory when a child but I got nine to see way and ear into hear way I read in the papers every sizes every sessions and you read too I know it with dismay how the supposed unpossibility or ever getting on chain from one another at any price on any terms brings blood upon this land and brings many common married folk to battle murder and sudden death let us how this right understood mine's a grievous case and I want if you will be so good to know the law that helps me I tell you what said Mr. Boundaby putting his hands in his pockets there is such a law Steven subsiding into his quiet manner and never wandering in his attention gave a nod but it's not for you at all it costs money it costs a mint of money how much might that be Steven calmly asked why you'd have to go to a doctor's commons with a suit and you'd have to go to a court of common law with a suit and you'd have to go to the house of lords with a suit and you'd have to get an act of parliament to enable you to marry again and it would cost you if it was a case of very plain sailing I suppose from a thousand to fifteen hundred pound said Mr. Boundaby perhaps twice the money there's no other law certainly not why then sir said Steven turning white and motioning with that right hand of his as if he gave everything to the four winds it is a muddle it is just a muddle altogether and the sooner I'm dead the bitter Mrs. Sparsit again dejected by the impiety of the people poo poo don't you talk nonsense my good fellow said Mr. Boundaby about things you don't understand and don't you call the institutions of your country a muddle or you'll get yourself into a real muddle one of these fine mornings the institutions of your country are not your peace work and the only thing you have got to do is find your peace work you didn't take your wife for fast and for loose but for better and for worse if she has turned out worse why all we've got to say is she might have turned out better it is a muddle said Steven shaking his head as he moved to the door it is all a muddle now I'll tell you what Mr. Boundaby resumed as a valedictory address with what I shall call your unhallowed opinions you have been quite shocking to this lady who as I have already told you is a born lady as I have not already told you has had her own marriage misfortune to the tune of tens of thousands of pounds tens of thousands of pounds he repeated it with great relish now you have always been a steady hand hitherto but my opinion is and so I tell you plainly that you are turning into the wrong road you have been listening to some mischievous stranger or other they're always about and the best thing you can do is to come out of that now you know here his countenance expressed marvellous acuteness I can see as far into a grindstone as another man father than a good many perhaps because I had my nose well kept to it when I was young I see traces of the turtle soup and venison and gold spoon in this yes I do cried Mr. Boundaby shaking his head with obstinate cunning by the Lord Harry I do with a very different shake of his head and deep sigh Steven said thank you sir I wish you good day so he left Mr. Boundaby swelling at his own portrait on the wall as if he were going to explode himself into it and Mrs. Sparsit still ambling on with her foot in her stirrup looking quite cast down by the popular vices chapter 13 the old woman old Steven descended the two white steps shutting the black door with the brazen door plate by the aid of the brazen full stop to which he gave a parting polish with the sleeve of his coat observing that his hot hand clouded it thus the street with his eyes bent upon the ground and thus was walking sorrowfully away when he felt a touch upon his arm it was not the touch he needed most at such a moment the touch that could calm the wild waters of his soul as the uplifted hand of the sublimest love and patience could abate the raging of the sea yet it was a woman's hand too it was an old woman tall and shapely still though withered by time on whom his eyes fell when he stopped and turned she was very cleanly and plainly dressed had country mud upon her shoes and was newly come from a journey the flutter of her manner in the unwanted noise of the streets the spare shawl carried unfolded on her arm the heavy umbrella and little basket the loose long fingered gloves to which her hands were unused all bespoke an old woman from the country in her plain holiday clothes come into coke town on an expedition of rare occurrence remarking this at a glance with the quick observation of his class and blackpool bent his attentive face his face which like the faces of many of his order by dint of long working with eyes and hands in the midst of a prodigious noise had acquired the concentrated look with which we are familiar in the countenances of the death the better to hear what she asked him price said the old woman didn't I see you come out of that gentleman's house pointing back to Mr. Boundary's I believe it was you unless I have had the bad luck to mistake the person in following yes Mrs. returned Steven it were me have you you'll excuse an old woman's curiosity have you seen the gentleman yes Mrs. how did he look sir was he portly bold outspoken and hearty she straightened her own figure and held up her head in adapting her action to her words the idea crossed Steven that he had seen this old woman before and had not quite liked her oh yes he returned observing her more attentively he were all that and healthy said the old woman as the fresh wind yes return Steven he were eating and drinking as large and as loud as a homobee thank you said the old woman with infinite content thank you he certainly never had seen this old woman before yet there was a vague remembrance in his mind as if he had more than once dreamed of some old woman like her she walked along at his side and gently accommodating himself to her humor he said cook town was a busy place was it not to which she answered I sure dreadful busy then he said she came from the country he saw to which she answered in the affirmative by parliamentary this morning I came 40 mile by parliamentary this morning and I'm going back the same 40 mile this afternoon I walked nine mile to the station this morning and if I find nobody on the road to give me a lift I shall walk the nine mile back tonight that's pretty well sir at my age said the chatty old woman her eye brightening with exaltation did his don't do it too often missus no no once a year she answered shaking her head I spend my savings so once every year I come regular to tramp about the streets and see the gentleman only to see him return Steven that's enough for me she replied with great earnestness and interest of manner I asked no more I've been standing about on this side of the way to see that gentleman turning her head back towards Mr. Boundary's again come out but he's late this year and I've not seen him you came out instead now if I'm obliged to go back without a glimpse of him I only want a glimpse well I've seen you and you have seen him and I must make that do saying that she looked at Steven as if to fix his features in her mind and her eye was not so bright as it had been with a large allowance for difference of tastes and with all submission to the patricians of Coke Town it seemed so extraordinary a source of interest to take so much trouble about that it perplexed him but they were passing the church now and as his eye caught the clock he quickened his pace he was going to work the old woman said quickening hers too quite easily yes time was nearly out on his telling her where he worked the old woman became a more singular old woman than before aren't you happy she asked him boy there's almost nobody but has their troubles missus he answered evasively because the old woman appeared to take it for granted that he would be very happy indeed and he had not the heart to disappoint her he knew that there was trouble enough in the world and if the old woman had lived so long and could count upon his having so little why so much the better for her and none the worse for him I you have your troubles at home you mean she said now and then he answered slightly but working under such a gentleman they don't follow you to the factory no no they didn't follow him there said Stephen all correct there everything accordant there he did not go so far as to say for her pleasure that there was a sort of divine right there but I have heard claims almost as magnificent of late years they were now in the back by-road near the place and the hands were crowding in the bell was ringing and the serpent was a serpent of many coils and the elephant was getting ready the strange old woman was delighted with the very bell it was the beautifulist bell she had ever heard she said and sounded grand she asked him when he stopped good naturally to shake hands with her before going in how long he had worked there a dozen year he told her I must kiss the hand said she that has worked in this fine factory for a dozen year and she lifted it though he would have prevented her and put it to her lips what harmony besides her age and her simplicity surrounded her he did not know but even in this fantastic action there was a something neither out of time nor place a something which it seemed as if nobody else could have made as serious or done with such a natural and touching air he had been at his loom full half an hour thinking about this old woman when having occasion to move round the loom for its adjustment he glanced through a window which was in his corner and saw her still looking up at the pile of building lost in admiration heedless of the smoke and mud and wet and of her too long journey she was gazing at it as if the heavy thrum that issued from its many stories were proud music to her she was gone by and by and the day went after her and the lights sprung up again in the express world in full sight of the fairy palace over the arches near little felt amid the jarring of the machinery and scarcely heard above its crash and rattle long before then his thoughts had gone back to the dreary room above the little shop into the shameful figure heavy on the bed but heavier on his heart machinery slackened throbbing feebly like a fainting pulse stopped the bell again the glare of light and heat dispelled the factories looming heavy in the black wet night their tall chimneys rising up into the air like competing towers of babble he had spoken to Rachel only last night it was true and had walked with her a little way but he had his new misfortune on him in which no one else could give him a moment's relief and for the sake of it and because he knew himself to want that softening of his anger which no voice but hers could affect he felt he might so far disregard what she had said as to wait for her again he waited but she had eluded him she was gone on no other night in the year could he so ill have spared her patient face oh better to have no home in which he had no head than to have a home and dread to go to it through such a cause he ate and drank for he was exhausted but he little knew or cared what and he wandered about in the chill rain thinking and thinking and brooding and brooding no word of a new marriage had ever passed between them but Rachel had taken great pity on him years ago and to her alone he had opened his closed heart all this time on the subject of his miseries and he knew very well that if he were free she would take him he thought of the home he might at that moment have been seeking with pleasure and pride of the different man he might have been that night of the lightness then in his now heavy laden breast of the then restored honor self-respect and tranquility all torn to pieces he thought of the waste of the best part of his life of the change it made in his character for the worst every day of the dreadful nature of his existence bound hand and foot to a dead woman tormented by a demon in her shape he thought of Rachel how young when they were first brought together in these circumstances how mature now how soon to grow old he thought of the number of girls and women she had seen marry how many homes with children in them she had seen grow up around her how she had contentedly pursued her own lone quiet path for him and how he had sometimes seen a shade of melancholy on her blessed face that smote him with remorse and despair he set the picture of her up beside the infamous image of last night and thought could it be that the whole earthly course of one so gentle, good and self-denying was subject to such a wretch as that filled with these thoughts so filled that he had an unwholesome sense of growing larger of being placed in some new and diseased relation towards the objects among which he passed of seeing the iris round every misty light turn red he went home for shelter end of section six section seven of hard times by Charles Dickens this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org hard times chapter thirteen Rachel a candle faintly burned in the window to which the black ladder had often been raised for the sliding away of all that was most precious in this world to a striving wife and a brood of hungry babies and Stefan added to his other thoughts the stern reflection that of all the casualties of his existence upon earth not one was dealt out with so unequal a hand as death the inequality of birth was nothing to it for say that the child of a king and the child of a weaver were born tonight in the same moment what was that disparity to the death of any human creature who was serviceable to or beloved by another while this abandoned woman lived on from the outside of his house he gloomily passed to the inside abandoned breath and with a slow footstep he went up to his door opened it and so into the room quiet and peace were there Rachel was there sitting by the bed she turned her head and the light of her face shone in upon the midnight of his mind she sat by the bed watching and tending his wife that is to say he saw that someone lay there who too well it must be she but Rachel's hands had put a curtain up so that she was screened from his eyes her disgraceful garments were removed and some of Rachel's were in the room everything was in its place and order as he'd always kept it the little fire was newly trimmed and the hearth was freshly swept it appeared to him that he saw all this in Rachel's face and looked at nothing besides while looking at it it was shut out from his view by the softened tears that filled his eyes but not before he had seen how earnestly she looked at him and how her own eyes were filled too she turned again towards the bed and satisfying herself that always quiet there spoken a low calm cheerful voice I'm glad you have come at last Stefan you are very late I have been walking up and down I thought so but it is too bad a night for that the rain falls very heavy and the wind has risen the wind? true it was blowing hard hard to the thunder and the chimney and the surgeon noise to have been out in such a wind and not to have known it was blowing I have been here once before today Stefan landlady came round for me at dinner time there was someone here that needed look into she said indeed she was right all wandering and lost Stefan wounded too and bruised he slowly moved to a chair and sat down drooping his head before her I came to do what little I could Stefan first she worked with me when we were girls both and for that you courted her and married her when I was her friend he laid his furrowed forehead on his hand with a low groan and next for that I know your heart and am right sure and certain that his far too merciful to let her die or even so much as suffer for want of aid thou knowest who said let him who is without sin cast the first stone at her there have been plenty to do that thou art not a man to cast the last stone Stefan when she is brought so low oh Rachel Rachel thou has been a cruel sufferer heaven reward thee she said in compassionate accents I am thy poor friend with all my heart and mine the wounds of which she had spoken would be about the neck of the self-made outcast she dressed them now still without showing her she steeped a piece of linen in a basin into which she poured some liquid from a bottle and laid it with a gentle hand upon the sore the three legged table had been drawn close to the bedside and on it there were two bottles this was one it was not so far off but that Stephen following her with his eyes could read what was printed on it in large letters he turned of a deadly hue and a sudden horror seemed to fall upon him I will stay here Stefan said Rachel quietly resuming her seat till the bells go three it is to be done again at three and then she may be left till morning but thy rest again tomorrows work my dear I slept sound last night I can wake many nights when I am put to it tis thou who art in need of rest so white and tired try to sleep in the chair there while I watch thou hath no sleep last night I can well believe tomorrows work is far harder for thee than for me he heard the thundering and surging out of doors and it seemed to him as if his angry mood were going about trying to get at him she had cast it out she would keep it out he trusted to her to defend him from himself she don't know me Stefan she just drowsily mutters and stares I've spoken to her at time and again but she don't notice tis well so when she comes to her right mind once more I shall have done what I can and she knows her how long Rachel is looked for that she'll be so doctor said she would happily come to her mind tomorrow his eyes again fell on the bottle and a tremble passed over him causing him to shiver in every limb she thought he was chilled with the wet no he said it was not that he'd had a fright a fright I coming in for a walk and when I were thinking it seized him again and he stood up holding by the mantel shelf as he pressed his dank cold hair down with a hand that shook as if it were palsied Stefan she was coming to him but he stretched out his arm to stop her no don't please don't let me see thee sitting by the bed let me see thee are so good and so forgiven let me see thee as I see thee when I come in I can never see thee better than so never never he had a violent fit of trembling and then sunk into his chair after a time he controlled himself and resting with an elbow on one knee and his head upon that hand he could look toward Rachel's seen across the dim candle with his moistened eyes as if she had a glory shining round her head he could have believed she had he did believe it as the noise without shook the window rattled at the door below and went about the house clamoring and lamenting when she gets better Stefan tears to be hoped she'll leave thee to thyself again and do thee no more hurt anyways we will hope so now I shall keep silence for I want thee to sleep he closed his eyes more to please her than to rest his weary head but by slow degrees as he listened to the great noise of the wind he ceased to hear it or it changed into the working of his loom or even into the voices of the day his own included saying what had been really said even this imperfect consciousness faded away at last and he dreamed a long troubled dream he thought that he and someone on whom his heart had long been set but she was not Rachel and that surprised him even in the midst of his imaginary happiness stood in the church being married while the ceremony was performing and while he recognized among the witnesses some whom he knew to be living and many of whom he knew to be dead darkness came on succeeded by the shining of a tremendous light it broke from one line in the table of commandments at the altar and illuminated the building with the words they were sounded through the church too as if they were voices in the fiery letters upon this the whole appearance before him and around him changed and nothing was left as it had been but himself and the clergyman they stood in the daylight before a crowd so vast that if all the people in the world could have been brought together into one space they could not have looked he thought more numerous and they all abhorred him and there was not one pitying or friendly eye among the millions that were fastened on his face he stood on a raised stage under his own loom and looking up the shape the loom took and hearing the burial service distinctly read he knew that he was there to suffer death in an instant what he stood on fell below him and he was gone out of what mystery he came back to his usual life to places that he knew he was unable to consider but he was back in those places by some means a condemnation upon him that he was never in this world or the next through all the unimaginable ages of eternity to look on Rachel's face or hear her voice wandering to and fro unceasingly without hope and in search of he knew not what he only knew that he was doomed to seek it he was the subject of a nameless horrible dread the shape which everything took whatsoever he looked at grew into that form sooner or later the object of his miserable existence was to prevent its recognition by anyone among the various people he encountered hopeless labor if he led them out of rooms where it was if he shut up drawers in closets where it stood if he drew the curious from places where he knew it would be secreted and got them out into the streets the very chimneys of the mills assumed that shape and round them was the printed word the wind was blowing again the rain was beating on the housetops and the larger spaces through which he had strayed contracted to the four walls of his room saving that the fire had died out it was as his eyes had closed upon it Rachel seemed to have fallen into a dose in the chair by the bed she sat wrapped in her shawl perfectly still the table stood in the same place close by the bedside and on it in its real proportions and appearance was a shape so often repeated he thought he saw the curtain move he looked again and he was sure it moved he saw a hand come forth and grope about a little then the curtain moved more perceptibly and the woman in the bed put it back and sat up with her woeful eyes so haggard and wild so heavy and large she looked all round the room and passed the corner where he slept in his chair her eyes returned to that corner and she put her hand over them as a shade while she looked into it again they went all around the room scarcely heeding Rachel if at all and returned to that corner he thought as she once more shaded them not so much looking at him as looking for him with a brutish instinct that he was there that no single trace was left in those debauched features or in the mind that went along with them of the woman he had married 18 years before but that he had seen her zoomed to this by inches he never could have believed her to be the same all this time as if a spell were on him he was motionless and powerless except to watch her stupidly dozing or communing with her incapable self but nothing she sat for a little while with her hands at her ears and her head resting on them presently she resumed her staring into the room and now for the first time her eyes stopped at the table with the bottles on it straight way she turned her eyes back to his corner with the defiance of last night and moving very cautiously and softly stretched out her greedy hand she drew a mug into the bed and sat for a while considering which of the two bottles she should choose finally she laid her insensate grass upon the bottle that had swift and certain death in it and before his eyes pulled out the cork with her teeth dream a reality he had no voice nor had he the power to stir if this be real and her allotted time be not yet come wake Rachel wake she thought of that too she looked at Rachel and very slowly very cautiously poured out the contents the draft was at her lips a moment in she would be passed all help let the whole world wake and come about her with its utmost power but in that moment Rachel stirred and started up with a suppressed cry the creature struggled struck her seized her by the hair but Rachel had the cup Steppen broke out of his chair Rachel am I waking dreaming this dreadful night tis all well Steppen I have been asleep myself tis near three hush I hear the bells the wind had brought the sounds of the church clock to the window they listened and it struck three Steppen looked at her saw how pale she was noted the disorder of her hair and the red marks of fingers on her forehead sure that his senses of sight and hearing had been awake she held the cup in her hand even now I thought it must be near three she said calmly pouring from the cup into the basin and steeping the linen as before I am thankful I stayed tis done now and I have put this on there and now she's quiet again the few drops in the basin I'll pour away for tis bad stuff to leave about though ever so little of it as she spoke she drained the basin into the ashes of the fire and broke the bottle on the hearth she had nothing to do then but to cover herself with her shawl before going out into the wind and rain though let me walk with thee at this hour Rachel no Steppen tis but a minute and I am home thou art no fearful you said in a low voice as they went out at the door to leave me alone with her as she looked at him saying Steppen he went down on his knee before her on the poor mean stairs and put an end of her shawl to his lips thou art an angel bless thee bless thee I am as I have told thee Steppen thy poor friend angels are not like me between them and a working woman full of faults there is a deep gulf set my little sister is among them but she's changed she raised her eyes for a moment as she said the words and then they fell again in all their gentleness and mildness on his face thou changed me from bad to good thou makeest me humbly wishful to be more like thee and fearful to lose thee when this life is hour and a muddle cleared away thou art an angel it may be thou has saved my soul alive she looked at him on his knee at her feet with her shawl still in his hand and the reproof on her lips died away when she saw the working of his face I come home desperate I come home without a hope and mad with thinking that when I said a word or complaint I was reckoned an unruisinable hand I told thee I had had a fright it was the poison bottle on the table I never heard a living creature but happening so suddenly upon I throwed how can I say what I might have done to myself or her or both she put her two hands on his mouth with a face of terror to stop him from saying more he caught them in his unoccupied hand and holding them and still clasping the border of her shawl said hurriedly but I see thee right setten by the bed and I has seen thee all this night in my trouble of sleep and I had known thee still to be there evermore I will see thee there I never more will see her or think of her but thou shalt be beside her I never more will see or think of anything that angers me but thou are so much better than me shalt be by the side on's and so I will try to look to the time and so I will try to trust in the time when thou and me at last shalt walk together farwa beyond the deep gulf in the country where thy little sister is he kissed the border of her shawl again and let her go she bad him good night and a broken voice and went out into the street the wind blew from the quarter where the day would soon appear and still blew strongly and cleared the sky before it and the rain had spit itself or traveled elsewhere and the stars were bright he stood bareheaded in the road watching her quick disappearance as the shining stars were to the heavy candle in the window so was Rachel in the rugged fancy of this man to the common experiences of his life Chapter 14 The Great Manufacturer Time went on in Coke Town like its own machinery so much material wrought up so much fuel consumed so many powers worn out so much money made but less inexorable than iron, steel and brass it brought its varying seasons even into that wilderness of smoke and brick and made the only stand that was ever made in the place against its direful uniformity Louisa is becoming said Mr. Gradgrind almost a woman time with his innumerable horsepower worked away not minding what anybody said and presently turned out young Thomas a foot taller than when his father had last taken particular notice of him Thomas is becoming said Mr. Gradgrind almost a young man time passed Thomas on in the mill while his father was thinking about it and there he stood in a long tail coat and a stiff shirt collar really said Mr. Gradgrind the period has arrived when Thomas ought to go to Boundary time sticking to him passed him on into Boundary's bank made him an inmate of Boundary's house necessitated the purchase of his first razor and exercised him diligently in his calculations relative to number one the same great manufacturer always with an immense variety of work on hand in every stage of development passed Sissy onward in his mill and worked her up into a very pretty article indeed I fear Job said Mr. Gradgrind that your continuance at the school any longer would be useless I'm afraid it would sir Sissy answered with a curtsy I cannot disguise from you Job said Mr. Gradgrind knitting his brow that the result of your probation there has disappointed me has greatly disappointed me you have not acquired under Mr. and Mrs. Machokum Child anything like that amount of exact knowledge which I look for you are extremely deficient in your facts your acquaintance with figures is limited you are all together backward and below the mark I am sorry sir but I know it is quite true yet I have tried hard sir yes Mr. Gradgrind yes I believe you I have tried hard I have observed you and I can find no fault in that respect thank you sir I have thought sometimes Sissy very timid here that perhaps I tried to learn too much and then if I'd asked to be allowed to try a little less no Duke no said Mr. Gradgrind shaking his head in his profoundest most eminently practical way no the course you pursued you pursued according to the system the system and there is no more to be said about it I can only suppose that the circumstances of your early life were too unfavorable to the development of your reasoning powers and that we began too late still as I have said already I am disappointed I wish I could have made a better acknowledgement sir of your kindness to a poor forlorn girl who had no claim upon you and of your protection of her don't shed tears said Mr. Gradgrind don't shed tears I don't of you you are an affectionate earnest good young woman and we must make that do think you serve very much since Sissy with a grateful currency you are useful to Mrs. Gradgrind and in a generally pervading way you are serviceable in the family also so I understand from Miss Louisa and indeed so I've observed myself I therefore hope Mr. Gradgrind that you can make yourself happy in those relations I should have nothing to wish sir if I understand you Mr. Gradgrind you still refer to your father I've heard from Miss Louisa that you still preserve that bottle well if you are training in the service of arriving at exact results have been more successful you would have been wiser on these points I will say no more he really likes Sissy too well to have contempt for her otherwise he held her calculating powers in such very slight estimation that he must have fallen upon that conclusion somehow or other he'd become possessed by an idea that there was something in this girl which could hardly be set forth in a tabular form her capacity or definition might be easily stated at a very low figure her mathematical knowledge at nothing if he was not sure that if he had been required for example to take her off into columns in a parliamentary return he would have quite known her in some stages of his manufacture of the human fabric the processes of time are very rapid young Thomas and Sissy being both at such a stage of their working up these changes were affected in a year or two while Mr. Gradgrind himself seemed stationary in his course and underwent no alteration except one which was apart from his necessary progress through the mill time hustled him into a little noisy rather dirty machinery in a by-corner and made him member of Parliament for Coke Town one of the respected members for ounce weights and measures one of the representatives of the multiplication table one of the deaf honorable gentlemen dumb honorable gentlemen blind honorable gentlemen lame honorable gentlemen dead honorable gentlemen to every other consideration else wherefore live we in a Christian land 1,800 odd years after our master all this while Louisa had been passing on so quiet and reserved and so much given to watching the bright ashes at twilight as they fell from the grate distinct that from the period when her father had said she was almost a young woman which seemed but yesterday she had scarcely attracted his notice again when he found her quite a young woman quite a young woman said Mr. Gradgrind musing dear me soon after this discovery he became more thoughtful than usual for several days and seemed much engrossed by one subject on a certain night when he was going out and Louisa came to bid him goodbye before his departure as he was not to be home until late and she would not seem again until the morning he held her in his arms looking at her in his kindest manner and said my dear Louisa you are a woman she answered with an odd quick searching look of the night when she first found at the circus then cast out her eyes yes father my dear said Mr. Gradgrind I must speak with you alone and seriously come to me in my room after breakfast tomorrow will you yes father your hands are rather cold Louisa are you not well quite well father and cheerful listen to her to kill your manner I am as cheerful father as I usually am or usually have been ah that's well said Mr. Gradgrind so he kissed her and went away and Louisa returned to the serene apartment of the haircutting character and leaning her elbow on her hand looked again at the short-lived sparks that soon subsided into ashes are you there Lou said her brother looking in at the door he was quite a young gentleman of pleasure now and not quite prepossessing one dear Tom she answered rising and embracing him how long it is since you've been to see me why I have been otherwise engaged Lou in the evenings and in the daytime old boundary has been keeping me at it rather but I touch him up with you and use it too strong and so we preserve an understanding I say has father said anything in particular to you today or yesterday Lou no Tom but he told me tonight that he wished to do so in the morning ah that's what I mean said Tom do you know where he is tonight with a very deep expression no then I'll tell you he's with old bound to be they're having a regular confab together at the bank what at the bank do you think well I'll tell you again to keep Mrs. Sparsett's ears as far off as possible I expect with her hand upon her brother's shoulder Louisa stood looking at the fire her brother glanced at her face with greater interest than usual and encircling her waist with his arm drew her coaxingly to him you are very fond of me ain't you Lou I am indeed Tom though you do let such long intervals go by without coming to see me well sister of mine said Tom when you say that you are near my thoughts we might be so much often or together mightn't we always together almost mightn't we it would do me a great deal of good if you were to make up your mind to I know what Lou it would be a splendid thing for me it would be uncommonly jolly her thoughtfulness baffled his cunning scrutiny he could make nothing of her face he pressed her in his arm and kissed her cheek she returned the kiss but still looked at the fire I say Lou I thought I'd come and just hint to you and on though I suppose you most likely guess even if you didn't know I can't stay because I'm engaged to some fellows tonight you won't forget how fond you are of me no dear Tom I won't forget that's a capital girl said Tom good bye Lou she gave him an affectionate good night and went out with him to the door once the fires of coke town could be seen the distance lurid she stood there looking steadfastly towards them and listening to his departing steps they were treated quickly as glad to get away from stone lodge as she stood there yet when he was gone and all was quiet it seemed as if first in her own fire within the house and then in the fiery haze without she tried to discover what kind of wolf old time that greatest and longest established spinner of all would weave from the threads he had already spun into a woman but his factory is a secret place his work is noiseless and his hands are mutes end of section seven of hard times by Charles Dickens