艰难时世(中文导读英文版)(txt+pdf+epub+mobi电子书下载)

作者：王勋,纪飞,（英）查尔斯·狄更斯

出版社：清华大学出版社

格式: AZW3, DOCX, EPUB, MOBI, PDF, TXT

艰难时世(中文导读英文版)试读：

前言

查尔斯狄更斯（Charles Dickens，1812—1870），19世纪英国现实主义文学大师，他的许多作品至今依然畅销，并对英国乃至世界文学的发展产生了非常重要的影响。

狄更斯出生在英国的朴茨茅斯市。因其父负债入狱，狄更斯于1824年被迫辍学。为了维持生计，狄更斯在一家皮鞋油作坊当学徒。一种蒙羞受辱、遭受抛弃的感觉萦绕了狄更斯的一生，这段经历可以在他的小说《大卫·科波菲尔》中找到。1824—1826年，狄更斯重新回到了学校。而在大多数时间里，他都是依靠自学。1827年，狄更斯开始在一家律师事务所供职，随后到报社成为一名采访议会的记者。这段经历使狄更斯熟悉了英国法律和政治体系的内幕，使他有机会接触各种各样的人物，并为日后的文学创作做好了素材和艺术方面的准备。1836年，狄更斯结集出版了他的系列描述伦敦生活的作品，定名《博兹特写集》，这使他获得初步成功。1937年，他出版了第一部长篇小说《匹克威克外传》。这部作品发表后风行一时，畅销全国，成为了街谈巷议的资料，并使他得以靠写作维持生活，并开始了著作生涯。

狄更斯一生共创作了14部长篇小说，还有许多中、短篇小说，杂文、游记、戏剧、小品等。其中，最著名的作品有《艰难时世》、《双城记》、《大卫科波菲尔》、《雾都孤儿》、《老古玩店》、《唐贝父子》和《远大前程》等。这些作品以高超的艺术手法描绘了包罗万象的社会图景，塑造出众多令人难忘的人物形象。马克思把他和萨克雷等称誉为英国的“一批杰出的小说家”。

狄更斯精力充沛、才思过人，除了小说创作，他还从事其他各种活动。1842年，他到美国演讲，支持国际版权协议，并坚决反对奴隶制。1843年，狄更斯出版了《圣诞欢歌》，这部书成了经久不衰的儿童读物。此外，狄更斯还曾经营过一个戏剧公司，并于1851年为维多利亚女王表演。

纵观狄更斯的文学创作历程，随着他的创作艺术逐渐成熟，他的小说风格也逐渐发生了变化。在其早期作品中，他主要讲述有关主人公奇遇的一些滑稽故事。而在他后期的作品中，狄更斯则倾向探讨重大的社会问题，作品集叙述、人物心理描写以及丰富的象征于一体。狄更斯在英国生活的时代，正是由半封建社会向工业资本主义社会的过渡时期。其作品广泛而深刻地描写了这个时期社会生活的各个方面，鲜明而生动地刻画了各阶层的代表人物形象，并从人道主义出发对各种丑恶的社会现象及其代表人物进行了揭露和批判，对劳动人民的苦难及其反抗斗争给予同情和支持。

从19世纪60年代起，狄更斯的健康状况开始恶化。1870年6月9日，狄更斯因中风而去世，5天以后被葬在威斯敏斯特大教堂的名人墓地。

在狄更斯的众多作品中，《艰难时世》是其代表作之一。该书出版一百六十多年来，一直畅销，并被译成世界上几十种语言，是公认的世界文学名著之一。在中国，《艰难时世》是最受广大读者欢迎的经典小说之一，同时也是最早传入中国的西欧经典名著之一。目前，在国内数量众多的《艰难时世》书籍中，主要的出版形式有两种：一种是中文翻译版，另一种是英文原版。其中的英文原版越来越受到读者的欢迎，这主要是得益于中国人热衷于学习英文的大环境。从英文学习的角度来看，直接使用纯英文素材更有利于英语学习。考虑到对英文内容背景的了解有助于英文阅读，使用中文导读应该是一种比较好的方式，也可以说是该类型书的第三种版本形式。采用中文导读而非中英文对照的方式进行编排，这样有利于国内读者摆脱对英文阅读依赖中文注释的习惯。基于以上原因，我们决定编译《艰难时世》，并采用中文导读英文版的形式出版。在中文导读中，我们尽力使其贴近原作的精髓，也尽可能保留原作的故事主线。我们希望能够编出为当代中国读者所喜爱的经典读本。读者在阅读英文故事之前，可以先阅读中文导读内容，这样有利于了解故事背景，从而加快阅读速度。我们相信，该经典著作的引进对加强当代中国读者，特别是青少年读者的人文修养是非常有帮助的。

本书主要内容由王勋、纪飞编译。参加本书故事素材搜集整理及编译工作的还有郑佳、刘乃亚、赵雪、熊金玉、李丽秀、熊红华、王婷婷、孟宪行、胡国平、李晓红、贡东兴、陈楠、邵舒丽、冯洁、王业伟、徐鑫、王晓旭、周丽萍、熊建国、徐平国、肖洁、王小红等。限于我们的科学、人文素养和英语水平，书中难免会有不当之处，衷心希望读者朋友批评指正。第一卷　播种　Book the First Sowing第一章　唯一必需的东西　Chapter Ⅰ　The One Thing Needful导读

在一间简陋寒碜的教室里，没有任何设备，只有一个硬邦邦的声音在教育着坐在地上的小孩子。那枯燥冷漠的声音，外加上一个光秃秃的脑袋，到处都给人一种生硬的感觉。说话的人不停地强调生活中只有事实是最重要的，其他的都不应该存在，也全无用处。OW, what I want is, Facts. Teach theseboys and girls nothing but Facts.Facts alone arewanted in life.Plant nothing else, and 'Nroot out everything else.You can only form the minds of reasoning animals upon Facts：nothing else will ever be of any service to them.This is the principle on which I bring up my own children, and this is the principle on which I bring up these children.Stick to Facts, sir！'

The scene was a plain, bare, monotonous vault of a school-room, and the speaker's square forefinger emphasized his observations by underscoring every sentence with a line on the schoolmaster's sleeve. The emphasis was helped by the speaker's square wall of a forehead, which had his eyebrows for its base, while his eyes found commodious cellarage in two dark caves, overshadowed by the wall.The emphasis was helped by the speaker's mouth, which was wide, thin, and hard set.The emphasis was helped by the speaker's voice, which was inflexible, dry, and dictatorial.The emphasis was helped by the speaker’s hair, which bristled on the skirts of his bald head, a plantation of firs to keep thewind from its shining surface, all covered with knobs, like the crust of a plum pie, as if the head had scarcely warehouse-room for the hard facts stored inside.The speaker’s obstinate carriage, square coat, square legs, square shoulders，—nay, his very neckcloth, trained to take him by the throat with an unaccommodating grasp, like a stubborn fact, as it was，—all helped the emphasis.‘In this life, we want nothing but Facts, sir；nothing but Facts！'

The speaker, and the schoolmaster, and the third grown person present, all backed a little, and swept with their eyes the inclined plane of little vessels then and there arranged in order, ready to have imperial gallons of facts poured into them until they were full to the brim.第二章　扼杀天真　Chapter Ⅱ　Murdering the Innocents导读

汤玛斯·格莱恩是一个只讲求实际的人，他创建了这所学校，雇佣了一位教师——麦恰克柴德先生；他希望这位先生只给学生们灌输冷酷无情的事实。格莱恩先生在教室里对两个学生进行了测试，要求他们给马下个定义。西茜·朱浦是一个马戏团骑术演员的女儿，她没能回答出这个问题，但是一个叫比泽尔的脸色苍白的年轻人给出了一个干巴巴的定义，让格莱恩先生很满意。当格莱恩提议让孩子们用画了马的纸糊墙时，有些孩子给出了肯定的回答；于是他再次教育孩子们不能有任何臆想中的情形出现；接着他问孩子们是否愿意用带花图案的地毯来铺地，孩子们都看出了用否定的回答似乎能够让格莱恩先生满意，不过还是出现了两三个不同的声音，包括西茜在内。西茜并不认为诸如有图画的地毯铺在地上会被踩坏，当她刚提到自己的幻想，就被格莱恩先生打断。格莱恩先生一遍遍地强调着事实的重要性，他的激动和有些极端的想法让小女孩吓呆了。

格莱恩先生示意麦恰克柴德先生开始授课。麦恰克柴德先生通过各式各样的考验才取得了政府颁发的B字号教师资格，几乎无所不通、无所不晓。也许是因为学得过多了，他讲课反而没有预料中的好。HOMAS GRADGRIND, sir. A man of realities.A man of facts andcalculations.A man who proceeds upon the principle that two Tand two are four, and nothing over, and who is not to be talked into allowing for anything over.Thomas Gradgrind, sir—peremptorily Thomas—Thomas Gradgrind.With a rule and a pair of scales, and the multiplication table always in his pocket, sir, ready to weigh and measure any parcel of human nature, and tell you exactly what it comes to.It is a mere question of figures, a case of simple arithmetic.You might hope to get some other nonsensical belief into the head of George Gradgrind, or Augustus Gradgrind, or John Gradgrind, or Joseph Gradgrind（all supposititious, non-existent persons），but into the head of Thomas Gradgrind—no, sir！

In such terms Mr. Gradgrind always mentally introduced himself, whether to his private circle of acquaintance, or to the public in general.In such terms, no doubt, substituting the words‘boys and girls，'for‘sir，'Thomas Gradgrind now presented Thomas Gradgrind to the little pitchers before him, who were to be filled so full of facts.

Indeed, as he eagerly sparkled at them from the cellarage before mentioned, he seemed a kind of cannon loaded to the muzzle with facts, and prepared to blow them clean out of the regions of childhood at one discharge. He seemed a galvanizing apparatus, too, charged with a grim mechanical substitute for the tender young imaginations that were to be stormed away.‘Girl number twenty，'said Mr. Gradgrind, squarely pointing with his square forefinger，‘I don't know that girl.Who is that girl？'‘Sissy Jupe, sir，'explained number twenty, blushing, standing up, and curtseying.‘Sissy is not a name，'said Mr. Gradgrind.‘Don't call yourself Sissy.Call yourself Cecilia.'‘It's father as calls me Sissy, sir，'returned the young girl in a trembling voice, and with another curtsey.‘Then he has no business to do it，'said Mr. Gradgrind.‘Tell him he mustn't.Cecilia Jupe.Let me see.What is your father？'‘He belongs to the horse-riding, if you please, sir.'

Mr. Gradgrind frowned, and waved off the objectionable calling with his hand.‘We don't want to know anything about that, here. You mustn't tell usabout that, here.Your father breaks horses, don't he？'‘If you please, sir, when they can get any to break, they do break horses in the ring, sir.'‘You mustn't tell us about the ring, here. Very well, then.Describe your father as a horsebreaker.He doctors sick horses, I dare say？'‘Oh yes, sir.'‘Very well, then. He is a veterinary surgeon, a farrier, and horsebreaker.Give me your definition of a horse.'（Sissy Jupe thrown into the greatest alarm by this demand.）‘Girl number twenty unable to define a horse！'said Mr. Gradgrind, for the general behoof of all the little pitchers.‘Girl number twenty possessed of no facts, in reference to one of the commonest of animals！Some boy's definition of a horse.Bitzer, yours.'

The square finger, moving here and there, lighted suddenly on Bitzer, perhaps because he chanced to sit in the same ray of sunlight which, darting in at one of the bare windows of the intensely white-washed room, irradiated Sissy. For, the boys and girls sat on the face of the inclined plane in two compact bodies, divided up the centre by a narrow interval；and Sissy, being at the corner of a row on the sunny side, came in for the beginning of a sunbeam, of which Bitzer, being at the corner of a row on the other side, a few rows in advance, caught the end.But, whereas the girl was so dark-eyed and dark-haired, that she seemed to receive a deeper and more lustrous colour from the sun, when it shone upon her, the boy was so light-eyed and light-haired that the self-same rays appeared to draw out of him what little colour he ever possessed.His cold eyes would hardly have been eyes, but for the short ends of lashes which, by bringing them into immediate contrast with something paler than themselves, expressed their form.His short-cropped hair might have been a mere continuation of the sandy freckles on his forehead and face.His skin was so unwholesomely deficient in the natural tinge, that he looked as though, if he were cut, he would bleed white.‘Bitzer，'said Thomas Gradgrind.‘Your definition of a horse.'‘Quadruped. Graminivorous.Forty teeth, namely twenty-four grinders, four eye-teeth, and twelve incisive.Sheds coat in the spring；in marshycountries, sheds hoofs, too.Hoofs hard, but requiring to be shod with iron.Age known by marks in mouth.'Thus（and much more）Bitzer.‘Now girl number twenty，'said Mr. Gradgrind.‘You know what a horse is.'

She curtseyed again, and would have blushed deeper, if she could have blushed deeper than she had blushed all this time. Bitzer, after rapidly blinking at Thomas Gradgrind with both eyes at once, and so catching the light upon his quivering ends of lashes that they looked like the antennae of busy insects, put his knuckles to his freckled forehead, and sat down again.

The third gentleman now stepped forth. A mighty man at cutting and drying, he was；a government officer；in his way（and in most other people's too），a professed pugilist；always in training, always with a system to force down the general throat like a bolus, always to be heard of at the bar of his little Public-office, ready to fight all England.To continue in fistic phraseology, he had a genius for coming up to the scratch, wherever and whatever it was, and proving himself an ugly customer.He would go in and damage any subject whatever with his right, follow up with his left, stop, exchange, counter, bore his opponent（he always fought All England）to the ropes, and fall upon him neatly.He was certain to knock the wind out of common sense, and render that unlucky adversary deaf to the call of time.And he had it in charge from high authority to bring about the great public-office Millennium, when Commissioners should reign upon earth.‘Very well，'said this gentleman, briskly smiling, and folding his arms.‘That's a horse. Now, let me ask you girls and boys, Would you paper a room with representations of horses？'

After a pause, one half of the children cried in chorus，‘Yes, sir！'Upon which the other half, seeing in the gentleman's face that Yes was wrong, cried out in chorus，‘No, sir！'—as the custom is, in these examinations.‘Of course, No. Why wouldn't you？'

A pause. One corpulent slow boy, with a wheezy manner of breathing, ventured the answer, Because he wouldn't paper a room at all, but would paint it.‘You must paper it，'said the gentleman, rather warmly.‘You must paper it，'said Thomas Gradgrind，‘whether you like it or not. Don't tell us you wouldn't paper it.What do you mean, boy？'‘I'll explain to you, then，'said the gentleman, after another and a dismal pause，‘why you wouldn't paper a room with representations of horses. Do you ever see horses walking up and down the sides of rooms in reality—in fact？Do you？'‘Yes, sir！'from one half.‘No, sir！'from the other.‘Of course no，'said the gentleman, with an indignant look at the wrong half.‘Why, then, you are not to see anywhere, what you don't see in fact；you are not to have anywhere, what you don't have in fact. What is called Taste, is only another name for Fact.'Thomas Gradgrind nodded his approbation.‘This is a new principle, a discovery, a great discovery，'said the gentleman.‘Now, I'll try you again. Suppose you were going to carpet a room.Would you use a carpet having a representation of flowers upon it？'

There being a general conviction by this time that‘No, sir！'was always the right answer to this gentleman, the chorus of NO was very strong. Only a few feeble stragglers said Yes：among them Sissy Jupe.‘Girl number twenty，'said the gentleman, smiling in the calm strength of knowledge.

Sissy blushed, and stood up.‘So you would carpet your room—or your husband's room, if you were a grown woman, and had a husband—with representations of flowers, would you？'said the gentleman.‘Why would you？'‘If you please, sir, I am very fond of flowers，'returned the girl.‘And is that why you would put tables and chairs upon them, and have people walking over them with heavy boots？'‘It wouldn't hurt them, sir. They wouldn't crush and wither, if you please, sir.They would be the pictures of what was very pretty and pleasant, and I would fancy—'‘Ay, ay, ay！But you mustn't fancy，'cried the gentleman, quite elated by coming so happily to his point.‘That's it！You are never to fancy.'‘You are not, Cecilia Jupe，'Thomas Gradgrind solemnly repeated，‘to do anything of that kind.'‘Fact, fact, fact！'said the gentleman. And‘Fact, fact, fact！'repeated Thomas Gradgrind.‘You are to be in all things regulated and governed，'said the gentleman，‘by fact. We hope to have, before long, a board of fact, composed of commissioners of fact, who will force the people to be a people of fact, and of nothing but fact.You must discard the word Fancy altogether.You have nothing to do with it.You are not to have, in any object of use or ornament, what would be a contradiction in fact.You don't walk upon flowers in fact；you cannot be allowed to walk upon flowers in carpets.You don't find that foreign birds and butterflies come and perch upon your crockery；you cannot be permitted to paint foreign birds and butterflies upon your crockery.You never meet with quadrupeds going up and down walls；you must not have quadrupeds represented upon walls.You must use，'said the gentleman，‘for all these purposes, combinations and modifications（in primary colours）of mathematical figures which are susceptible of proof and demonstration.This is the new discovery.This is fact.This is taste.'

The girl curtseyed, and sat down. She was very young, and she looked as if she were frightened by the matter-of-fact prospect the world afforded.‘Now, if Mr. M'Choakumchild，'said the gentleman，‘will proceed to give his first lesson here, Mr.Gradgrind, I shall be happy, at your request, to observe his mode of procedure.'

Mr. Gradgrind was much obliged.‘Mr.M'Choakumchild, we only wait for you.'

So, Mr. M'Choakumchild began in his best manner.He and some one hundred and forty other schoolmasters, had been lately turned at the same time, in the same factory, on the same principles, like so many pianoforte legs.He had been put through an immense variety of paces, and had answered volumes of head-breaking questions.Orthography, etymology, syntax, and prosody, biography, astronomy, geography, and general cosmography, the sciences of compound proportion, algebra, land-surveying and levelling, vocal music, and drawing from models, were all at the ends of his ten chilled fingers.He had worked his stony way into Her Majesty's most Honourable Privy Council's Schedule B, and had taken the bloom off the higher branches of mathematicsand physical science, French, German, Latin, and Greek.He knew all about all the Water Sheds of all the world（whatever they are），and all the histories of all the peoples, and all the names of all the rivers and mountains, and all the productions, manners, and customs of all the countries, and all their boundaries and bearings on the two and thirty points of the compass.Ah, rather overdone, M'Choakumchild.If he had only learnt a little less, how infinitely better he might have taught much more！

He went to work in this preparatory lesson, not unlike Morgiana in the Forty Thieves：looking into all the vessels ranged before him, one after another, to see what they contained. Say, good M'Choakumchild.When from thy boiling store, thou shalt fill each jar brim full by-and-by, dost thou think that thou wilt always kill outright the robber Fancy lurking within—or sometimes only maim him and distort him！第三章　一个漏洞　Chapter Ⅲ　A Loophole导读

格莱恩先生立志要将这些孩子培养成像自己的孩子们那样优秀。格莱恩先生的孩子们在刚会走路的时候就被送到教室去，他们从小接受的教育就是讲究客观事实，从来不接触儿歌和童谣。

格莱恩先生的家可以称为四四方方的“石屋”，这是一幢经过严格计算建造而成的房子。里面似乎应有尽有，小格莱恩们有排列整齐的各式各样的标本。格莱恩先生是一个异常讲求实际的父亲，对于别人称他家为“石屋”，他反而感到高兴。

回家时，格莱恩先生走过市郊的一段路，马戏团的声音传到了他的耳中，尽管不时传出热烈的喝彩声，但他丝毫不予理会。当他走到马戏场后面时，竟然看到他的女儿露易莎和儿子汤姆在偷看，这严重犯了家规。两个孩子显然被吓着了，都显现出极不高兴的样子，尤其是女儿露易莎，她的脸上出现了一种异样痛苦的神情。露易莎主动承认了错误，面对父亲的指责，她表示自己已经厌倦了现在的生活；格莱恩先生不愿继续听下去，带着孩子默默地走着。路上格莱恩先生提到了庞德贝先生，丝毫没有注意到露易莎眼中露出的锐利而惊人的眼神。R. GRADGRIND walked homeward from the school, in a state ofconsiderable satisfaction.It was his school, and he intended it Mto be a model.He intended every child in it to be a model—just as the young Gradgrinds were all models.

There were five young Gradgrinds, and they were models every one. They had been lectured at, from their tenderest years；coursed, like little hares.Almost as soon as they could run alone, they had been made to run to the lecture-room.The first object with which they had an association, or of which they had a remembrance, was a large black board with a dry Ogre chalking ghastly white figures on it.

Not that they knew, by name or nature, anything about an Ogre Fact forbid！I only use the word to express a monster in a lecturing castle, with Heaven knows how many heads manipulated into one, taking childhood captive, and dragging it into gloomy statistical dens by the hair.

No little Gradgrind had ever seen a face in the moon；it was up in the moon before it could speak distinctly. No little Gradgrind had ever learnt the silly jingle, Twinkle, twinkle, little star；how I wonder what you are！No little Gradgrind had ever known wonder on the subject, each little Gradgrind having at five years old dissected the Great Bear like a Professor Owen, and driven Charles's Wain like a locomotive engine-driver.No little Gradgrind had ever associated a cow in a field with that famous cow with the crumpled horn who tossed the dog who worried the cat who killed the rat who ate the malt, or with that yet more famous cow who swallowed Tom Thumb：it had never heard of those celebrities, and had only been introduced to a cow as a graminivorous ruminating quadruped with several stomachs.

To his matter-of-fact home, which was called Stone Lodge, Mr. Gradgrind directed his steps.He had virtually retired from the wholesale hardware trade before he built Stone Lodge, and was now looking about for a suitable opportunity of making an arithmetical figure in Parliament.Stone Lodge was situated on a moor within a mile or two of a great town—called Coketown in the present faithful guide-book.

A very regular feature on the face of the country, Stone Lodge was. Not the least disguise toned down or shaded off that uncompromising fact in the landscape.A great square house, with a heavy portico darkening the principal windows, as its master's heavy brows overshadowed his eyes.A calculated, cast up, balanced, and proved house.Six windows on this side of the door, six on that side；a total of twelve in this wing, a total of twelve in the other wing；four-and-twenty carried over to the back wings.A lawn and garden and an infant avenue, all ruled straight like a botanical account-book.Gas and ventilation, drainage and water-service, all of the primest quality.Iron clamps and girders, fire-proof from top to bottom；mechanical lifts for the housemaids, with all their brushes and brooms；everything that heart could desire.

Everything？Well, I suppose so. The little Gradgrinds had cabinets in various departments of science too.They had a little conchological cabinet, and a little metallurgical cabinet, and a little mineralogical cabinet；and the specimens were all arranged and labelled, and the bits of stone and ore looked as though they might have been broken from the parent substances by those tremendously hard instruments their own names；and, to paraphrase the idle legend of Peter Piper, who had never found his way into their nursery, If the greedy little Gradgrinds grasped at more than this, what was it for good gracious goodness'sake, that the greedy little Gradgrinds grasped it！

Their father walked on in a hopeful and satisfied frame of mind. He was an affectionate father, after his manner；but he would probably have described himself（if he had been put, like Sissy Jupe, upon a definition）as‘an eminently practical'father.He had a particular pride in the phrase eminently practical, which was considered to have a special application to him.Whatsoever the public meeting held in Coketown, and whatsoever the subject of such meeting, some Coketowner was sure to seize the occasion of alluding to his eminently practical friend Gradgrind.This always pleased the eminently practical friend.He knew it to be his due, but his due was acceptable.

He had reached the neutral ground upon the outskirts of the town, which was neither town nor country, and yet was either spoiled, when his ears were invaded by the sound of music. The clashing and banging band attached to the horse-riding establishment, which had there set up its rest in a wooden pavilion, was in full bray.A flag, floating from the summit of the temple, proclaimed to mankind that it was‘Sleary's Horse-riding'which claimed their suffrages.Sleary himself, a stout modern statue with a money-box at its elbow, in an ecclesiastical niche of early Gothic architecture, took the money.Miss Josephine Sleary, as some very long and very narrow strips of printed bill announced, was then inaugurating the entertainments with her gracefulequestrian Tyrolean flower-act.Among the other pleasing but always strictly moral wonders which must be seen to be believed, Signor Jupe was that afternoon to‘elucidate the diverting accomplishments of his highly trained performing dog Merrylegs.'He was also to exhibit‘his astounding feat of throwing seventy-five hundred-weight in rapid succession backhanded over his head, thus forming a fountain of solid iron in mid-air, a feat never before attempted in this or any other country, and which having elicited such rapturous plaudits from enthusiastic throngs it cannot be withdrawn.'The same Signor Jupe was to‘enliven the varied performances at frequent intervals with his chaste Shaksperean quips and retorts.'Lastly, he was to wind them up by appearing in his favourite character of Mr.William Button, of Tooley Street, in‘the highly novel and laughable hippo-comedietta of The Tailor’s Journey to Brentford.’

Thomas Gradgrind took no heed of these trivialities of course, but passed on as a practical man ought to pass on, either brushing the noisy insects from his thoughts, or consigning them to the House of Correction. But, the turning of the road took him by the back of the booth, and at the back of the booth a number of children were congregated in a number of stealthy attitudes, striving to peep in at the hidden glories of the place.

This brought him to a stop.‘Now, to think of these vagabonds，'said he，‘attracting the young rabble from a model school.'

A space of stunted grass and dry rubbish being between him and the young rabble, he took his eyeglass out of his waistcoat to look for any child he knew by name, and might order off. Phenomenon almost incredible though distinctly seen, what did he then behold but his own metallurgical Louisa, peeping with all her might through a hole in a deal board, and his own mathematical Thomas abasing himself on the ground to catch but a hoof of the graceful equestrian Tyrolean flower-act！

Dumb with amazement, Mr. Gradgrind crossed to the spot where his family was thus disgraced, laid his hand upon each erring child, and said：‘Louisa！Thomas！'

Both rose, red and disconcerted. But, Louisa looked at her father with more boldness than Thomas did.Indeed, Thomas did not look at him, but gavehimself up to be taken home like a machine.‘In the name of wonder, idleness, and folly！'said Mr. Gradgrind, leading each away by a hand；‘what do you do here？'‘Wanted to see what it was like，'returned Louisa, shortly.‘What it was like？'‘Yes, father.'

There was an air of jaded sullenness in them both, and particularly in the girl：yet, struggling through the dissatisfaction of her face, there was a light with nothing to rest upon, a fire with nothing to burn, a starved imagination keeping life in itself somehow, which brightened its expression. Not with the brightness natural to cheerful youth, but with uncertain, eager, doubtful flashes, which had something painful in them, analogous to the changes on a blind face groping its way.

She was a child now, of fifteen or sixteen；but at no distant day would seem to become a woman all at once. Her father thought so as he looked at her.She was pretty.Would have been self-willed（he thought in his eminently practical way）but for her bringing-up.‘Thomas, though I have the fact before me, I find it difficult to believe that you, with your education and resources, should have brought your sister to a scene like this.'‘I brought him, father，'said Louisa, quickly.‘I asked him to come.'‘I am sorry to hear it. I am very sorry indeed to hear it.It makes Thomas no better, and it makes you worse, Louisa.'

She looked at her father again, but no tear fell down her cheek.‘You！Thomas and you, to whom the circle of the sciences is open；Thomas and you, who may be said to be replete with facts；Thomas and you, who have been trained to mathematical exactness；Thomas and you, here！'cried Mr. Gradgrind.‘In this degraded position！I am amazed.'‘I was tired, father. I have been tired a long time，'said Louisa.‘Tired？Of what？'asked the astonished father.‘I don't know of what—of everything, I think.'‘Say not another word，'returned Mr. Gradgrind.‘You are childish.I will hear no more.'He did not speak again until they had walked some half-a-milein silence, when he gravely broke out with：‘What would your best friends say, Louisa？Do you attach no value to their good opinion？What would Mr.Bounderby say？'At the mention of this name, his daughter stole a look at him, remarkable for its intense and searching character.He saw nothing of it, for before he looked at her, she had again cast down her eyes！‘What，'he repeated presently，‘would Mr. Bounderby say？'All the way to Stone Lodge, as with grave indignation he led the two delinquents home, he repeated at intervals‘What would Mr.Bounderby say？'—as if Mr.Bounderby had been Mrs.Grundy.第四章　庞德贝先生　Chapter Ⅳ　Mr. Bounderby导读

庞德贝先生看上去像是充满了气一样，脸绷得很紧，秃头上青筋暴露。他有着很多头衔，绝对是本地的一大富翁，却不能算是格莱恩的知心朋友；他总是一面炫耀自己的白手起家，一面过分谦卑地讲述自己过去的愚昧和贫穷。

话说今天是庞德贝先生的生日，此刻他正站在格莱恩家中对着格莱恩太太发表一番言论。格莱恩太太是一个矮小瘦弱的女人，时常吃药，但这也不能让她恢复活力，格莱恩太太在各个方面都显得很脆弱。庞德贝先生正讲述着自己童年的不幸：母亲丢弃了他，而他跟着爱酗酒的外婆生活，等他稍微长大后，便立刻逃了出去，在社会上流浪；他做过各种各样的工作，完全靠自己的打拼和努力才有了今天的成就。正当他说到高潮的时候，格莱恩先生带着两个孩子回到家中。露易莎满不在乎地解释了父亲气愤的原因。格莱恩太太听完突然抽噎起来，声称但愿从来没有过这对儿女，仿佛孩子们犯了什么不可饶恕的错误。她认为孩子们应该去好好研究标本而非马戏，还有很多事实需要他们去弄懂。其实格莱恩太太自己所掌握的“事实”也少得可怜，她只得笼统地打发孩子们自己去学些什么。她对孩子的教育并没有给格莱恩先生留下好印象，格莱恩先生反而皱起了眉头。

房间里剩下格莱恩夫妇和庞德贝先生时，格莱恩太太一下子又沉默了，两个男人也没有理会她。格莱恩先生不明白孩子们庸俗的好奇心到底从何而来，庞德贝先生认为归根结底是无聊的想象惹的祸。两人将祸根归咎于西茜·朱浦——一个马戏团成员的孩子。庞德贝先生提议将这个女孩撵出学校，格莱恩先生同意了这个做法，他们准备出去找那个女孩。在格莱恩先生上楼找地址的时候，庞德贝先生来到了露易莎的房间。露易莎极不情愿地被他亲了一下腮帮，事后用手帕使劲地擦着被亲吻过的地方。OT being Mrs. Grundy, who was Mr.Bounderby？Why, Mr. Bounderby was as near being Mr.Gradgrind's Nbosom friend, as a man perfectly devoid of sentiment can approach that spiritual relationship towards another man perfectly devoid of sentiment.So near was Mr.Bounderby—or, if the reader should prefer it, so far off.

He was a rich man：banker, merchant, manufacturer, and what not. A big, loud man, with a stare, and a metallic laugh.A man made out of a coarse material, which seemed to have been stretched to make so much of him.A man with a great puffed head and forehead, swelled veins in his temples, and such a strained skin to his face that it seemed to hold his eyes open, and lift his eyebrows up.A man with a pervading appearance on him of being inflated like a balloon, and ready to start.A man who could never sufficiently vaunt himself a self-made man.A man who was always proclaiming, through that brassy speaking-trumpet of a voice of his, his old ignorance and his old poverty.A man who was the Bully of humility.

A year or two younger than his eminently practical friend, Mr. Bounderby looked older；his seven or eight and forty might have had the seven or eight added to it again, without surprising anybody.He had not much hair.One might have fancied he had talked it off；and that what was left, all standing up in disorder, was in that condition from being constantly blown about by his windy boastfulness.

In the formal drawing-room of Stone Lodge, standing on the hearthrug, warming himself before the fire, Mr. Bounderby delivered some observations to Mrs.Gradgrind on the circumstance of its being his birthday.He stood before the fire, partly because it was a cool spring afternoon, though the sun shone；partly because the shade of Stone Lodge was always haunted by the ghost of damp mortar；partly because he thus took up a commanding position, from which to subdue Mrs.Gradgrind.‘I hadn't a shoe to my foot. As to a stocking, I didn't know such a thing by name.I passed the day in a ditch, and the night in a pigsty.That's the way I spent my tenth birthday.Not that a ditch was new to me, for I was born in a ditch.'

Mrs. Gradgrind, a little, thin, white, pink-eyed bundle of shawls, of surpassing feebleness, mental and bodily；who was always taking physic without any effect, and who, whenever she showed a symptom of coming to life, was invariably stunned by some weighty piece of fact tumbling on her；Mrs.Gradgrind hoped it was a dry ditch？‘No！As wet as a sop. A foot of water in it，'said Mr.Bounderby.‘Enough to give a baby cold，'Mrs. Gradgrind considered.‘Cold？I was born with inflammation of the lungs, and of everything else, I believe, that was capable of inflammation，'returned Mr. Bounderby.‘For years, ma'am, I was one of the most miserable little wretches ever seen.I was so sickly, that I was always moaning and groaning.I was so ragged and dirty, that you wouldn't have touched me with a pair of tongs.'

Mrs. Gradgrind faintly looked at the tongs, as the most appropriate thing her imbecility could think of doing.‘How I fought through it, I don't know，'said Bounderby.‘I was determined, I suppose. I have been a determined character in later life, and I suppose I was then.Here I am, Mrs.Gradgrind, anyhow, and nobody to thank for my being here, but myself.'

Mrs. Gradgrind meekly and weakly hoped that his mother—‘My mother？Bolted, ma'am！'said Bounderby.

Mrs. Gradgrind, stunned as usual, collapsed and gave it up.‘My mother left me to my grandmother，'said Bounderby；‘and, according to the best of my remembrance, my grandmother was the wickedest and the worst old woman that ever lived. If I got a little pair of shoes by any chance, she would take'em off and sell'em for drink.Why, I have known that grandmother of mine lie in her bed and drink her four-teen glasses of liquor before breakfast！'

Mrs. Gradgrind, weakly smiling, and giving no other sign of vitality, looked（as she always did）like an indifferently executed transparency of asmall female figure, without enough light behind it.‘She kept a chandler's shop，'pursued Bounderby，‘and kept me in an egg-box. That was the cot of my infancy；an old egg-box.As soon as I was big enough to run away, of course I ran away.Then I became a young vagabond；and instead of one old woman knocking me about and starving me, everybody of all ages knocked me about and starved me.They were right；they had no business to do anything else.I was a nuisance, an incumbrance, and a pest.I know that very well.'

His pride in having at any time of his life achieved such a great social distinction as to be a nuisance, an incumbrance, and a pest, was only to be satisfied by three sonorous repetitions of the boast.‘I was to pull through it, I suppose, Mrs. Gradgrind.Whether I was to do it or not, ma'am, I did it.I pulled through it, though nobody threw me out a rope.Vagabond, errand-boy, vagabond, labourer, porter, clerk, chief manager, small partner, Josiah Bounderby of Coketown.Those are the antecedents, and the culmination.Josiah Bounderby of Coketown learnt his letters from the outsides of the shops, Mrs.Gradgrind, and was first able to tell the time upon a dial-plate, from studying the steeple clock of St.Giles's Church, London, under the direction of a drunken cripple, who was a convicted thief, and an incorrigible vagrant.Tell Josiah Bounderby of Coketown, of your district schools and your model schools, and your training schools, and your whole kettle-of-fish of schools；and Josiah Bounderby of Coketown, tells you plainly, all right, all correct—he hadn't such advantages—but let us have hard-headed, solid-fisted people—the education that made him won't do for everybody, he knows well—such and such his education was, however, and you may force him to swallow boiling fat, but you shall never force him to suppress the facts of his life.'

Being heated when he arrived at this climax, Josiah Bounderby of Coketown stopped. He stopped just as his eminently practical friend, still accompanied by the two young culprits, entered the room.His eminently practical friend, on seeing him, stopped also, and gave Louisa a reproachful look that plainly said，‘Behold your Bounderby！'‘Well！'blustered Mr. Bounderby，‘what's the matter？What is youngThomas in the dumps about？'

He spoke of young Thomas, but he looked at Louisa.‘We were peeping at the circus，'muttered Louisa, haughtily, without lifting up her eyes，‘and father caught us.'‘And, Mrs. Gradgrind，'said her husband in a lofty manner，‘I should as soon have expected to find my children reading poetry.'‘Dear me，'whimpered Mrs. Gradgrind.‘How can you, Louisa and Thomas！I wonder at you.I declare you're enough to make one regret ever having had a family at all.I have a great mind to say I wish I hadn't.Then what would you have done, I should like to know？'

Mr. Gradgrind did not seem favourably impressed by these cogent remarks.He frowned impatiently.‘As if, with my head in its present throbbing state, you couldn't go and look at the shells and minerals and things provided for you, instead of circuses！'said Mrs. Gradgrind.‘You know, as well as I do, no young people have circus masters, or keep circuses in cabinets, or attend lectures about circuses.What can you possibly want to know of circuses then？I am sure you have enough to do, if that's what you want.With my head in its present state, I couldn't remember the mere names of half the facts you have got to attend to.'‘That's the reason！'pouted Louisa.‘Don't tell me that's the reason, because it can't be nothing of the sort，'said Mrs. Gradgrind.‘Go and be somethingological directly.'Mrs.Gradgrind was not a scientific character, and usually dismissed her children to their studies with this general injunction to choose their pursuit.

In truth, Mrs. Gradgrind's stock of facts in general was woefully defective；but Mr.Gradgrind in raising her to her high matrimonial position, had been influenced by two reasons.Firstly, she was most satisfactory as a question of figures；and, secondly, she had‘no nonsense'about her.By nonsense he meant fancy；and truly it is probable she was as free from any alloy of that nature, as any human being not arrived at the perfection of an absolute idiot, ever was.

The simple circumstance of being left alone with her husband and Mr. Bounderby, was sufficient to stun this admirable lady again without collision between herself and any other fact.So, she once more died away, and nobodyminded her.‘Bounderby，'said Mr. Gradgrind, drawing a chair to the fireside，‘you are always so interested in my young people—particularly in Louisa—that I make no apology for saying to you, I am very much vexed by this discovery.I have systematically devoted myself（as you know）to the education of the reason of my family.The reason is（as you know）the only faculty to which education should be addressed.‘And yet, Bounderby, it would appear from this unexpected circumstance of to-day, though in itself a trifling one, as if something had crept into Thomas's and Louisa's minds which is—or rather, which is not—I don't know that I can express myself better than by saying—which has never been intended to be developed, and in which their reason has no part.'‘There certainly is no reason in looking with interest at a parcel of vagabonds，'returned Bounderby.‘When I was a vagabond myself, nobody looked with any interest at me；I know that.'‘Then comes the question；said the eminently practical father, with his eyes on the fire，‘in what has this vulgar curiosity its rise？'‘I'll tell you in what. In idle imagination.'‘I hope not，'said the eminently practical；‘I confess, however, that the misgiving has crossed me on my way home.'‘In idle imagination, Gradgrind，'repeated Bounderby.‘A very bad thing for anybody, but a cursed bad thing for a girl like Louisa. I should ask Mrs.Gradgrind's pardon for strong expressions, but that she knows very well I am not a refined character.Whoever expects refinement in me will be disappointed.I hadn't a refined bringing up.'‘Whether，'said Gradgrind, pondering with his hands in his pockets, and his cavernous eyes on the fire，‘whether any instructor or servant can have suggested anything？Whether Louisa or Thomas can have been reading anything？Whether, in spite of all precautions, any idle story-book can have got into the house？Because, in minds that have been practically formed by rule and line, from the cradle upwards, this is so curious, so incomprehensible.'‘Stop a bit！'cried Bounderby, who all this time had been standing, as before, on the hearth, bursting at the very furniture of the room with explosivehumility.‘You have one of those strollers'children in the school.'‘Cecilia Jupe, by name，'said Mr. Gradgrind, with something of a stricken look at his friend.‘Now, stop a bit！'cried Bounderby again.‘How did she come there？'‘Why, the fact is, I saw the girl myself, for the first time, only just now. She specially applied here at the house to be admitted, as not regularly belonging to our town, and—yes, you are right, Bounderby, you are right.'‘Now, stop a bit！'cried Bounderby, once more.‘Louisa saw her when she came？'‘Louisa certainly did see her, for she mentioned the application to me. But Louisa saw her, I have no doubt, in Mrs.Gradgrind's presence.'‘Pray, Mrs. Gradgrind，'said Bounderby，‘what passed？'‘Oh, my poor health！'returned Mrs. Gradgrind.‘The girl wanted to come to the school, and Mr.Gradgrind wanted girls to come to the school, and Louisa and Thomas both said that the girl wanted to come, and that Mr.Gradgrind wanted girls to come, and how was it possible to contradict them when such was the fact！'‘Now I tell you what, Gradgrind！'said Mr. Bounderby.‘Turn this girl to the right about, and there's an end of it.'‘I am much of your opinion.'‘Do it at once，'said Bounderby，‘has always been my motto from a child. When I thought I would run away from my egg-box and my grandmother, I did it at once.Do you the same.Do this at once！'‘Are you walking？'asked his friend.‘I have the father's address. Perhaps you would not mind walking to town with me？'‘Not the least in the world，'said Mr. Bounderby，‘as long as you do it at once！'

So, Mr. Bounderby threw on his hat—he always threw it on, as expressing a man who had been far too busily employed in making himself, to acquire any fashion of wearing his hat—and with his hands in his pockets, sauntered out into the hall.‘I never wear gloves，'it was his custom to say.‘I didn't climb up the ladder in them.—Shouldn't be so high up, if I had.'

Being left to saunter in the hall a minute or two while Mr. Gradgrind wentup-stairs for the address, he opened the door of the children's study and looked into that serene floor-clothed apartment, which, notwithstanding its book-cases and its cabinets and its variety of learned and philosophical appliances, had much of the genial aspect of a room devoted to hair-cutting.Louisa languidly leaned upon the window looking out, without looking at anything, while young Thomas stood sniffing revengefully at the fire.Adam Smith and Malthus, two younger Gradgrinds, were out at lecture in custody；and little Jane, after manufacturing a good deal of moist pipe-clay on her face with slate-pencil and tears, had fallen asleep over vulgar fractions.‘It's all right now, Louisa：it's all right, young Thomas，'said Mr. Bounderby；‘you won't do so any more.I'll answer for it’s being all over with father.Well, Louisa, that’s worth a kiss, isn’t it？’‘You can take one, Mr. Bounderby，'returned Louisa, when she had coldly paused, and slowly walked across the room, and ungraciously raised her cheek towards him, with her face turned away.‘Always my pet；ain't you, Louisa？'said Mr. Bounderby.‘Good-bye, Louisa！'

He went his way, but she stood on the same spot, rubbing the cheek he had kissed, with her handkerchief, until it was burning red. She was still doing this, five minutes afterwards.‘What are you about, Loo？'her brother sulkily remonstrated.‘You'll rub a hole in your face.'‘You may cut the piece out with your penknife if you like, Tom. I wouldn't cry！'第五章　基调　Chapter Ⅴ　The Keynote导读

焦煤镇到处都是运转的机器和冒着浓烟的烟囱，被污染的河水散发出恶臭。镇上的几条街道看上去都很相似，连行走的人们似乎都有相似的言行举止。焦煤镇的繁荣和这些工业紧密相连，这里有很多奢侈品，是那些贵妇人必备的行头。镇里所有的事物都表现出“事实”，不管是物质方面还是精神领域，人们把事实奉为神圣。在这里，已经有十八个教派的教堂，可每周日却很少有人走进教堂做礼拜。那些工人宁可在外面闲逛，也不会走进教堂，除非政府下令强迫这些人信教。在格莱恩先生和庞德贝先生眼中，这帮人实在是糟糕透顶；因为他们从不知道感谢，总是不满足现状。

两位绅士正在寻找西茜的家，在他们迷路的时候，突然看到了狂奔的西茜和追在她后面的比泽尔。比泽尔解释说自己只是准备再告诉她一遍马的定义，为的是让她知道以后该如何回答这类问题。格莱恩先生让比泽尔先回家，之后要求西茜带着自己去找她的父亲。西茜手中拿着治疗摔伤的九合油，正准备回家替父亲揉揉。在她的带领下，两位绅士来到了一家酒店门前。OKETOWN, to which Messrs. Bounderby and Gradgrind nowwalked, was a triumph of fact；it had no greater taint of fancy Cin it than Mrs.Gradgrind herself.Let us strike the key-note, Coketown, before pursuing our tune.

It was a town of red brick, or of brick that would have been red if the smoke and ashes had allowed it；but as matters stood, it was a town of unnatural red and black like the painted face of a savage. It was a town of machinery and tall chimneys, out of which interminable serpents of smoke trailed themselves for ever and ever, and never got uncoiled.It had a black canal in it, and a river that ran purple with ill-smelling dye, and vast piles of building full of windows where there was a rattling and a trembling all day long, and where the piston of the steam-engine worked monotonously up and down, like the head of an elephant in a state of melancholy madness.It contained several large streets all very like one another, and many small streets still more like one another, inhabited by people equally like one another, who all went in and out at the same hours, with the same sound upon the same pavements, to do the same work, and to whom every day was the same as yesterday and to-morrow, and every year the counterpart of the last and the next.

These attributes of Coketown were in the main inseparable from the work by which it was sustained；against them were to be set off, comforts of life which found their way all over the world, and elegancies of life which made, we will not ask how much of the fine lady, who could scarcely bear to hear the place mentioned. The rest of its features were voluntary, and they were these.

You saw nothing in Coketown but what was severely workful. If the members of a religious persuasion built a chapel there—as the members of eighteen religious persuasions had done—they made it a pious warehouse of red brick, with sometimes（but this is only in highly ornamental examples）a bell in a birdcage on the top of it.The solitary exception was the New Church；a stuccoed edifice with a square steeple over the door, terminating in four short pinnacles like florid wooden legs.All the public inscriptions in the town were painted alike, in severe characters of black and white.The jail might have been the infirmary, the infirmary might have been the jail, the town-hall might have been either, or both, or anything else, for anything that appeared to the contrary in the graces of their construction.Fact, fact, fact, everywhere in the material aspect of the town；fact, fact, fact, everywhere in the immaterial.TheM'Choakumchild school was all fact, and the school of design was all fact, and the relations between master and man were all fact, and everything was fact between the lying-in hospital and the cemetery, and what you couldn't state in figures, or show to be purchaseable in the cheapest market and saleable in the dearest, was not, and never should be, world without end, Amen.

A town so sacred to fact, and so triumphant in its assertion, of course got on well？Why no, not quite well. No？Dear me！

No. Coketown did not come out of its own furnaces, in all respects like gold that had stood the fire.First, the perplexing mystery of the place was, Who belonged to the eighteen denominations？Because, whoever did, the labouring people did not.It was very strange to walk through the streets on a Sunday morning, and note how few of them the barbarous jangling of bells that was driving the sick and nervous mad, called away from their own quarter, from their own close rooms, from the corners of their own streets, where they lounged listlessly, gazing at all the church and chapel going, as at a thing with which they had no manner of concern.Nor was it merely the stranger who noticed this, because there was a native organization in Coketown itself, whose members were to be heard of in the House of Commons every session, indignantly petitioning for acts of parliament that should make these people religious by main force.Then came the Teetotal Society, who complained that these same people would get drunk, and showed in tabular statements that they did get drunk, and proved at tea parties that no inducement, human or Divine（except a medal），would induce them to forego their custom of getting drunk.Then came the chemist and druggist, with other tabular statements, showing that when they didn't get drunk, they took opium.Then came the experienced chaplain of the jail, with more tabular statements, outdoing all the previous tabular statements, and showing that the same people would resort to low haunts, hidden from the public eye, where they heard low singing and saw low dancing, and mayhap joined in it；and where A.B.，aged twenty-four next birthday, and committed for eighteen months'solitary, had himself said（not that he had ever shown himself particularly worthy of belief）his ruin began, as he was perfectly sure and confident that otherwise he would have been a tip-top moral specimen.Then came Mr.Gradgrind and Mr.Bounderby, the twogentlemen at this present moment walking through Coketown, and both eminently practical, who could, on occasion, furnish more tabular statements derived from their own personal experience, and illustrated by cases they had known and seen, from which it clearly appeared—in short, it was the only clear thing in the case—that these same people were a bad lot altogether, gentlemen；that do what you would for them they were never thankful for it, gentlemen；that they were restless, gentlemen；that they never knew what they wanted；that they lived upon the best, and bought fresh butter；and insisted on Mocha coffee, and rejected all but prime parts of meat, and yet were eternally dissatisfied and unmanageable.In short, it was the moral of the old nursery fable：

There was an old woman, and what do you think？She lived upon nothing but victuals and drink；Victuals and drink were the whole of her diet, And yet this old woman would NEVER be quiet.

Is it possible, I wonder, that there was any analogy between the case of the Coketown population and the case of the little Gradgrinds？Surely, none of us in our sober senses and acquainted with figures, are to be told at this time of day, that one of the foremost elements in the existence of the Coketown working-people had been for scores of years, deliberately set at nought？That there was any Fancy in them demanding to be brought into healthy existence instead of struggling on in convulsions？That exactly in the ratio as they worked long and monotonously, the craving grew within them for some physical relief—some relaxation, encouraging good humour and good spirits, and giving them a vent—some recognized holiday, though it were but for an honest dance to a stirring band of music—some occasional light pie in which even M'Choakumchild had no finger—which craving must and would be satisfied aright, or must and would inevitably go wrong, until the laws of the Creation were repealed？‘This man lives at Pod's End, and I don't quite know Pod's End，'said Mr. Gradgrind.‘Which is it, Bounderby？'

Mr. Bounderby knew it was somewhere down town, but knew no more respecting it.So they stopped for a moment, looking about.

Almost as they did so, there came running round the corner of the street at a quick pace and with a frightened look, a girl whom Mr. Gradgrind recognized.‘Halloa！'said he.‘Stop！Where are you going！Stop！'Girl number twenty stopped then, palpitating, and made him a curtsey.‘Why are you tearing about the streets，'said Mr. Gradgrind，‘in this improper manner？'‘I was—I was run after, sir，'the girl panted，‘and I wanted to get away.'‘Run after？'repeated Mr. Gradgrind.‘Who would run after you？'

The question was unexpectedly and suddenly answered for her, by the colourless boy, Bitzer, who came round the corner with such blind speed and so little anticipating a stoppage on the pavement, that he brought himself up against Mr. Gradgrind's waistcoat and rebounded into the road.‘What do you mean, boy？'said Mr. Gradgrind.‘What are you doing？How dare you dash against—everybody—in this manner？'Bitzer picked up his cap, which the concussion had knocked off；and backing, and knuckling his forehead, pleaded that it was an accident.‘Was this boy running after you, Jupe？'asked Mr. Gradgrind.‘Yes, sir，'said the girl reluctantly.‘No, I wasn't, sir！'cried Bitzer.‘Not till she run away from me. But the horse-riders never mind what they say, sir；they're famous for it.You know the horse-riders are famous for never minding what they say，'addressing Sissy.‘It's as well known in the town as—please, sir, as the multiplication table isn’t known to the horse-riders.’Bitzer tried Mr.Bounderby with this.‘He frightened me so，'said the girl，‘with his cruel faces！'‘Oh！'cried Bitzer.‘Oh！An't you one of the rest！An't you a horse-rider！I never looked at her, sir. I asked her if she would know how to define a horse to-morrow, and offered to tell her again, and she ran away, and I ran after her, sir, that she might know how to answer when she was asked.You wouldn't have thought of saying such mischief if you hadn't been a horse-rider？’‘Her calling seems to be pretty well known among'em，'observed Mr. Bounderby.‘You'd have had the whole school peeping in a row, in a week.'‘Truly, I think so，'returned his friend.‘Bitzer, turn you about and take yourself home. Jupe, stay here a moment.Let me hear of your running in this manner any more, boy, and you will hear of me through the master of theschool.You understand what I mean.Go along.'

The boy stopped in his rapid blinking, knuckled his forehead again, glanced at Sissy, turned about, and retreated.‘Now, girl，'said Mr. Gradgrind，‘take this gentleman and me to your father's；we are going there.What have you got in that bottle you are carrying？'‘Gin，'said Mr. Bounderby.‘Dear, no, sir！It's the nine oils.'‘The what？'cried Mr. Bounderby.‘The nine oils, sir, to rub father with.'‘Then，'said Mr. Bounderby, with a loud short laugh，‘what the devil do you rub your father with nine oils for？'‘It's what our people aways use, sir, when they get any hurts in the ring，'replied the girl, looking over her shoulder, to assure herself that her pursuer was gone.‘They bruise themselves very bad sometimes.'‘Serve'em right，'said Mr. Bounderby，‘for being idle.'She glanced up at his face, with mingled astonishment and dread.‘By George！'said Mr. Bounderby，‘when I was four or five years younger than you, I had worse bruises upon me than ten oils, twenty oils, forty oils, would have rubbed off.I didn't get'em by posture-making, but by being banged about.There was no rope-dancing for me；I danced on the bare ground and was larruped with the rope.'

Mr. Gradgrind, though hard enough, was by no means so rough a man as Mr.Bounderby.His character was not unkind, all things considered；it might have been a very kind one indeed, if he had only made some round mistake in the arithmetic that balanced it, years ago.He said, in what he meant for a reassuring tone, as they turned down a narrow road，‘And this is Pod's End；is it, Jupe？'‘This is it, sir, and—if you wouldn't mind, sir—this is the house.'

She stopped, at twilight, at the door of a mean little public-house, with dim red lights in it. As haggard and as shabby, as if, for want of custom, it had itself taken to drinking, and had gone the way all drunkards go, and was verynear the end of it.‘It's only crossing the bar, sir, and up the stairs, if you wouldn't mind, and waiting there for a moment till I get a candle. If you should hear a dog, sir, it's only Merrylegs, and he only barks.'‘Merrylegs and nine oils, eh！'said Mr. Bounderby, entering last with his metallic laugh.‘Pretty well this, for a self-made man！'第六章　史利瑞的马戏团　Chapter Ⅵ　Sleary’s Horsemanship导读

由于外面天空已黑，两位绅士并没有注意到酒店门前那富有幻想力的飞马镜框，他们紧跟着小女孩走到了楼梯旁。西茜拿来了蜡烛，带着两位走进了房间。安排他们坐下之后，西茜便跑出去找父亲。西茜找遍了家中的所有地方，也没发现父亲的身影，随后便冲向了马戏场。在她出门后，一个年轻人来到西茜的家中，他的那身打扮让人一看就知道是最近很受欢迎的表演者齐尔德斯先生。齐尔德斯告诉两位绅士，最近西茜的父亲在表演时经常出岔子。如今朱浦先生已经扔下自己的女儿溜走了，但西茜目前还不知道。这引出了庞德贝先生关于自己年幼时被母亲抛弃的话题，他想用自己的切身感受来指责逃跑的朱浦，认为这是流氓无赖的做法。齐尔德斯先生显然并不买他的账，他让庞德贝先生有什么不满意的话应该回到自己的房子里去嚷嚷；随后转向了格莱恩先生，向他讲述了朱浦趁女儿出去买药的时候偷偷溜走的情形。在他看来，西茜绝对不相信父亲会抛下自己，因为这对父女一直相依为命。

齐尔德斯先生继续讲述着朱浦父女俩的一些事情，又提到了西茜的父亲费尽心思让女儿进入学校学习，而不是送女儿到马戏团当学徒，这或许是朱浦先生心里一直的打算，认为进了学校就会得到照顾。格莱恩先生说明了自己这次的来意，不仅没有照顾，而且认为西茜不再适合留在学校；本来打算让女孩退学，但如今这个情景让他觉得要先和庞德贝先生商量一下。两位绅士在房间里商量着，齐尔德斯礼貌地走到了门外，无意中听到庞德贝先生拒绝的说法，而格莱恩先生似乎想留住这个女孩。此时，史利瑞马戏团的演员们正谈论着这件事情，他们也已溜进了房间，史利瑞先生也不例外。史利瑞向格莱恩先生表达了自己的想法，说自己还是愿意收西茜为徒。西茜在这时跑了进来，放声大哭，觉得父亲是为了自己，才跑到外面一个人受苦。庞德贝先生不耐烦了，他认为这个女孩应该正视父亲已经逃走的事实。他的话引起了马戏团成员的不满，史利瑞先生暗示庞德贝最好少开口，否则要被人扔出窗外他也拦不住。格莱恩先生说话了，他答应带西茜离开，但条件是不允许她和马戏团成员再有任何来往；史利瑞先生同时也答应收西茜为徒，还说其他演员们会好好照顾她的。格莱恩先生最后希望西茜能够明白受教育是她父亲一直以来对她的希望。这句话起到了明显的作用，马戏团的人看出了西茜的转变，知道她选择了和格莱恩先生走。史利瑞先生让女孩放心，表示如果她父亲回来的话，自己会及时告诉他的。

妇女们帮助西茜收拾好行李，西茜和马戏团的成员一一告别，西茜一直都哭哭啼啼。史利瑞先生希望西茜以后能够好好生活，如果以后过上了好日子，千万不要盛气凌人，如果碰到马戏班子，可能的话就包一场。两位绅士带着西茜很快便消失在茫茫夜色之中。HE name of the public-house was the Pegasus's Arms. ThePegasus's legs might have been more to the purpose；but, Tunderneath the winged horse upon the sign-board, the Pegasus's Arms was inscribed in Roman letters.Beneath that inscription again, in a flowing scroll, the painter had touched off the lines：

Good malt makes good beer, Walk in, and they'll draw it here；Good wine makes good brandy, Give us a call, and you'll find it handy.

Framed and glazed upon the wall behind the dingy little bar, was another Pegasus—a theatrical one—with real gauze let in for his wings, golden stars stuck on all over him, and his ethereal harness made of red silk.

As it had grown too dusky without, to see the sign, and as it had not grown light enough within to see the picture, Mr. Gradgrind and Mr.Bounderby received no offence from these idealities.They followed the girl up some steep corner-stairs without meeting any one, and stopped in the dark while she went on for a candle.They expected every moment to hear Merrylegs give tongue, but the highly trained performing dog had not barked when the girl and the candle appeared together.‘Father is not in our room, sir，'she said, with a face of great surprise.‘If you wouldn't mind walking in, I'll find him directly.'They walked in；and Sissy, having set two chairs for them, sped away with a quick light step. It was a mean, shabbily furnished room, with a bed in it.The white night-cap, embellished with two peacock's feathers and a pigtail bolt upright, in which Signor Jupe had that very afternoon enlivened the varied performances with his chaste Shaksperean quips and retorts, hung upon a nail；but no other portion of his wardrobe, or other token of himself or his pursuits, was to be seen anywhere.As to Merrylegs, that respectable ancestor of the highly trained animal who went aboard the ark, might have been accidentally shut out of it, for any sign of a dog that was manifest to eye or ear in the Pegasus’s Arms.

They heard the doors of rooms above, opening and shutting as Sissy went from one to another in quest of her father；and presently they heard voices expressing surprise. She came bounding down again in a great hurry, opened a battered and mangy old hair trunk, found it empty, and looked round with her hands clasped and her face full of terror.‘Father must have gone down to the Booth, sir. I don't know why he should go there, but he must be there；I'll bring him in a minute！'She was gone directly, without her bonnet；with her long, dark, childish hair streaming behind her.‘What does she mean！'said Mr. Gradgrind.‘Back in a minute？It's more than a mile off.'

Before Mr. Bounderby could reply, a young man appeared at the door, and introducing himself with the words，‘By your leaves, gentlemen！'walked in with his hands in his pockets.His face, close-shaven, thin, and sallow, was shaded by a great quantity of dark hair, brushed into a roll all round his head, and parted up the centre.His legs were very robust, but shorter than legs of good proportions should have been.His chest and back were as much too broad, as his legs were too short.He was dressed in a Newmarket coat and tight-fitting trousers；wore a shawl round his neck；smelt of lamp-oil, straw, orange-peel, horses'provender, and sawdust；and looked a most remarkable sort of Centaur, compounded of the stable and the play-house.Where the one began, and the other ended, nobody could have told with any precision.This gentleman was mentioned in the bills of the day as Mr.E.W.B.Childers, so justly celebrated for his daring vaulting act as the Wild Huntsman of the North American Prairies；in which popular performance, a diminutive boy with an old face, who now accompanied him, assisted as his infant son：being carried upside down over his father's shoulder, by one foot, and held by the crown of his head, heels upwards, in the palm of his father's hand, according to the violent paternal manner in which wild huntsmen may be observed to fondle their offspring.Made up with curls, wreaths, wings, white bismuth, and carmine, this hopeful young person soared into so pleasing a Cupid as to constitute the chief delight of the maternal part of the spectators；but in private, where his characteristics were a precocious cutaway coat and an extremely gruff voice, he became of the Turf, turfy.‘By your leaves, gentlemen，'said Mr. E.W.B.Childers, glancing round the room.‘It was you, I believe, that were wishing to see Jupe！'‘It was，'said Mr. Gradgrind.‘His daughter has gone to fetch him, but I can't wait；therefore, if you please, I will leave a message for him with you.'‘You see, my friend，'Mr. Bounderby put in，‘we are the kind of people who know the value of time, and you are the kind of people who don't know the value of time.'‘I have not，'retorted Mr. Childers, after surveying him from head to foot，‘the honour of knowing you，—but if you mean that you can make more money of your time than I can of mine, I should judge from your appearance, that you are about right.'‘And when you have made it, you can keep it too, I should think，'said Cupid.‘Kidderminster, stow that！'said Mr. Childers.（Master Kidderminster was Cupid's mortal name.）‘What does he come here cheeking us for, then？'cried Master Kidderminster, showing a very irascible temperament.‘If you want to cheek us, pay your ochre at the doors and take it out.'‘Kidderminster，'said Mr. Childers, raising his voice，‘stow that！—Sir，'toMr.Gradgrind，‘I was addressing myself to you.You may or you may not be aware（for perhaps you have not been much in the audience），that Jupe has missed his tip very often, lately.'‘Has—what has he missed？'asked Mr. Gradgrind, glancing at the potent Bounderby for assistance.‘Missed his tip.'‘Offered at the Garters four times last night, and never done'em once，'said Master Kidderminster.‘Missed his tip at the banners, too, and was loose in his ponging.'‘Didn't do what he ought to do. Was short in his leaps and bad in his tumbling，'Mr.Childers interpreted.‘Oh！'said Mr. Gradgrind，‘that is tip, is it？'‘In a general way that's missing his tip，'Mr. E.W.B.Childers answered.‘Nine oils, Merrylegs, missing tips, garters, banners, and Ponging, eh！'ejaculated Bounderby, with his laugh of laughs.‘Queer sort of company, too, for a man who has raised himself！'‘Lower yourself, then，'retorted Cupid.‘Oh Lord！if you've raised yourself so high as all that comes to, let yourself down a bit.'‘This is a very obtrusive lad！'said Mr. Gradgrind, turning, and knitting his brows on him.‘We'd have had a young gentleman to meet you, if we had known you were coming，'retorted Master Kidderminster, nothing abashed.‘It's a pity you don't have a bespeak, being so particular. You're on the Tight-Jeff, ain’t you？’‘What does this unmannerly boy mean，'asked Mr. Gradgrind, eyeing him in a sort of desperation，‘by Tight-Jeff？'‘There！Get out, get out！'said Mr. Childers, thrusting his young friend from the room, rather in the prairie manner.‘Tight-Jeff or Slack-Jeff, it don't much signify：it's only tight-rope and slack-rope.You were going to give me a message for Jupe？'‘Yes, I was.'‘Then，'continued Mr. Childers, quickly，‘my opinion is, he will never receive it.Do you know much of him？'‘I never saw the man in my life.'‘I doubt if you ever will see him now. It's pretty plain to me, he's off.'‘Do you mean that he has deserted his daughter？'‘Ay！I mean，'said Mr. Childers, with a nod，‘that he has cut.He was goosed last night, he was goosed the night before last, he was goosed to-day.He has lately got in the way of being always goosed, and he can't stand it.'‘Why has he been—so very much—Goosed？'asked Mr. Gradgrind, forcing the word out of himself, with great solemnity and reluctance.‘His joints are turning stiff, and he is getting used up，'said Childers.‘He has his points as a Cackler still, but he can't get a living out of them.'‘A Cackler！'Bounderby repeated.‘Here we go again！'‘A speaker, if the gentleman likes it better，'said Mr. E.W.B.Childers, superciliously throwing the interpretation over his shoulder, and accompanying it with a shake of his long hair—which all shook at once.‘Now, it's a remarkable fact, sir, that it cut that man deeper, to know that his daughter knew of his being goosed, than to go through with it.'‘Good！'interrupted Mr. Bounderby.‘This is good, Gradgrind！A man so fond of his daughter, that he runs away from her！This is devilish good！Ha！ha！Now, I'll tell you what, young man.I haven't always occupied my present station of life.I know what these things are.You may be astonished to hear it, but my mother—ran away from me.'

E. W.B.Childers replied pointedly, that he was not at all astonished to hear it.‘Very well，'said Bounderby.‘I was born in a ditch, and my mother ran away from me. Do I excuse her for it？No.Have I ever excused her for it？Not I.What do I call her for it？I call her probably the very worst woman that ever lived in the world, except my drunken grandmother.There's no family pride about me, there's no imaginative sentimental humbug about me.I call a spade a spade；and I call the mother of Josiah Bounderby of Coketown, without any fear or any favour, what I should call her if she had been the mother of Dick Jones of Wapping.So, with this man.He is a runaway rogue and a vagabond, that's what he is, in English.'‘It's all the same to me what he is or what he is not, whether in English or whether in French，'retorted Mr. E.W.B.Childers, facing about.‘I am tellingyour friend what's the fact；if you don't like to hear it, you can avail yourself of the open air.You give it mouth enough, you do；but give it mouth in your own building at least，'remonstrated E.W.B.with stern irony.‘Don’t give it mouth in this building, till you’re called upon.You have got some building of your own I dare say, now？’‘Perhaps so，'replied Mr. Bounderby, rattling his money and laughing.‘Then give it mouth in your own building, will you, if you please？'said Childers.‘Because this isn't a strong building, and too much of you might bring it down！'

Eyeing Mr. Bounderby from head to foot again, he turned from him, as from a man finally disposed of, to Mr.Gradgrind.‘Jupe sent his daughter out on an errand not an hour ago, and then was seen to slip out himself, with his hat over his eyes, and a bundle tied up in a handkerchief under his arm. She will never believe it of him, but he has cut away and left her.'‘Pray，'said Mr. Gradgrind，‘why will she never believe it of him？'‘Because those two were one. Because they were never asunder.Because, up to this time, he seemed to dote upon her，'said Childers, taking a step or two to look into the empty trunk.Both Mr.Childers and Master Kidderminster walked in a curious manner；with their legs wider apart than the general run of men, and with a very knowing assumption of being stiff in the knees.This walk was common to all the male members of Sleary's company, and was understood to express, that they were always on horseback.‘Poor Sissy！He had better have apprenticed her，'said Childers, giving his hair another shake, as he looked up from the empty box.‘Now, he leaves her without anything to take to.'‘It is creditable to you, who have never been apprenticed, to express that opinion，'returned Mr. Gradgrind, approvingly.‘I never apprenticed？I was apprenticed when I was seven year old.'‘Oh！Indeed？'said Mr. Gradgrind, rather resentfully, as having been defrauded of his good opinion.‘I was not aware of its being the custom to apprentice young persons to—'‘Idleness，'Mr. Bounderby put in with a loud laugh.‘No, by the LordHarry！Nor I！'‘Her father always had it in his head，'resumed Childers, feigning unconsciousness of Mr. Bounderby's existence，‘that she was to be taught the deuce-and-all of education.How it got into his head, I can't say；I can only say that it never got out.He has been picking up a bit of reading for her, here—and a bit of writing for her, there—and a bit of ciphering for her, somewhere else—these seven years.'

Mr. E.W.B.Childers took one of his hands out of his pockets, stroked his face and chin, and looked, with a good deal of doubt and a little hope, at Mr.Gradgrind.From the first he had sought to conciliate that gentleman, for the sake of the deserted girl.‘When Sissy got into the school here，'he pursued，‘her father was as pleased as Punch. I couldn't altogether make out why, myself, as we were not stationary here, being but comers and goers anywhere.I suppose, however, he had this move in his mind—he was always half-cracked—and then considered her provided for.If you should happen to have looked in to-night, for the purpose of telling him that you were going to do her any little service，'said Mr.Childers, stroking his face again, and repeating his look，‘it would be very fortunate and well-timed；very fortunate and well-timed.'‘On the contrary，'returned Mr. Gradgrind.‘I came to tell him that her connections made her not an object for the school, and that she must not attend any more.Still, if her father really has left her, without any connivance on her part—Bounderby, let me have a word with you.'

Upon this, Mr. Childers politely betook himself, with his equestrian walk, to the landing outside the door, and there stood stroking his face, and softly whistling.While thus engaged, he overheard such phrases in Mr.Bounderby's voice as‘No.I say no.I advise you not.I say by no means.'While, from Mr.Gradgrind, he heard in his much lower tone the words，‘But even as an example to Louisa, of what this pursuit which has been the subject of a vulgar curiosity, leads to and ends in.Think of it, Bounderby, in that point of view.'

Meanwhile, the various members of Sleary's company gradually gathered together from the upper regions, where they were quartered, and, from standing about, talking in low voices to one another and to Mr. Childers, graduallyinsinuated themselves and him into the room.There were two or three handsome young women among them, with their two or three husbands, and their two or three mothers, and their eight or nine little children, who did the fairy business when required.The father of one of the families was in the habit of balancing the father of another of the families on the top of a great pole；the father of a third family often made a pyramid of both those fathers, with Master Kidderminster for the apex, and himself for the base；all the fathers could dance upon rolling casks, stand upon bottles, catch knives and balls, twirl hand-basins, ride upon anything, jump over everything, and stick at nothing.All the mothers could（and did）dance, upon the slack wire and the tight-rope, and perform rapid acts on bare-backed steeds；none of them were at all particular in respect of showing their legs；and one of them, alone in a Greek chariot, drove six in hand into every town they came to.They all assumed to be mighty rakish and knowing, they were not very tidy in their private dresses, they were not at all orderly in their domestic arrangements, and the combined literature of the whole company would have produced but a poor letter on any subject.Yet there was a remarkable gentleness and childishness about these people, a special inaptitude for any kind of sharp practice, and an untiring readiness to help and pity one another, deserving often of as much respect, and always of as much generous construction, as the every-day virtues of any class of people in the world.

Last of all appeared Mr. Sleary：a stout man as already mentioned, with one fixed eye, and one loose eye, a voice（if it can be called so）like the efforts of a broken old pair of bellows, a flabby surface, and a muddled head which was never sober and never drunk.‘Thquire！'said Mr. Sleary, who was troubled with asthma, and whose breath came far too thick and heavy for the letter s，‘Your thervant！Thith ith a bad piethe of bithnith, thith ith.You've heard of my Clown and hith dog being thuppothed to have morrithed？'

He addressed Mr. Gradgrind, who answered‘Yes.'‘Well, Thquire，'he returned, taking off his hat, and rubbing the lining with his pocket-handkerchief, which he kept inside for the purpose.‘Ith it your intenthion to do anything for the poor girl, Thquire？'‘I shall have something to propose to her when she comes back，'said Mr. Gradgrind.‘Glad to hear it, Thquire. Not that I want to get rid of the child, any more than I want to thtand in her way.I'm willing to take her prentith, though at her age ith late.My voithe ith a little huthky, Thquire, and not eathy heard by them ath don't know me；but if you'd been chilled and heated, heated and chilled, chilled and heated in the ring when you wath young, ath often ath I have been, your voithe wouldn't have lathted out, Thquire, no more than mine.'‘I dare say not，'said Mr. Gradgrind.‘What thall it be, Thquire, while you wait？Thall it be Therry？Give it a name, Thquire！'said Mr. Sleary, with hospitable ease.‘Nothing for me, I thank you，'said Mr. Gradgrind.‘Don't thay nothing, Thquire. What doth your friend thay？If you haven't took your feed yet, have a glath of bitterth.'

Here his daughter Josephine—a pretty fair-haired girl of eighteen, who had been tied on a horse at two years old, and had made a will at twelve, which she always carried about with her, expressive of her dying desire to be drawn to the grave by the two piebald ponies—cried，‘Father, hush！she has come back！'Then came Sissy Jupe, running into the room as she had run out of it. And when she saw them all assembled, and saw their looks, and saw no father there, she broke into a most deplorable cry, and took refuge on the bosom of the most accomplished tight-rope lady（herself in the family-way），who knelt down on the floor to nurse her, and to weep over her.‘Ith an internal thame, upon my thoul it ith，'said Sleary.‘O my dear father, my good kind father, where are you gone？You are gone to try to do me some good, I know！You are gone away for my sake, I am sure！And how miserable and helpless you will be without me, poor, poor father, until you come back！'It was so pathetic to hear her saying many things of this kind, with her face turned upward, and her arms stretched out as if she were trying to stop his departing shadow and embrace it, that no one spoke a word until Mr. Bounderby（growing impatient）took the case in hand.‘Now, good people all，'said he，‘this is wanton waste of time. Let the girl understand the fact.Let her take it from me, if you like, who have been runaway from, myself.Here, what's your name！Your father has absconded—deserted you—and you mustn't expect to see him again as long as you live.'

They cared so little for plain Fact, these people, and were in that advanced state of degeneracy on the subject, that instead of being impressed by the speaker's strong common sense, they took it in extraordinary dudgeon. The men muttered‘Shame！'and the women‘Brute！'and Sleary, in some haste, communicated the following hint, apart to Mr.Bounderby.‘I tell you what, Thquire. To thpeak plain to you, my opinion ith that you had better cut it thort, and drop it.They're a very good natur'd people, my people, but they're accuthtomed to be quick in their movementh；and if you don't act upon my advithe, I'm damned if I don’t believe they’ll pith you out o’winder.’

Mr. Bounderby being restrained by this mild suggestion, Mr.Gradgrind found an opening for his eminently practical exposition of the subject.‘It is of no moment，'said he，‘whether this person is to be expected back at any time, or the contrary. He is gone away, and there is no present expectation of his return.That, I believe, is agreed on all hands.'‘Thath agreed, Thquire. Thick to that！'From Sleary.‘Well then. I, who came here to inform the father of the poor girl, Jupe, that she could not be received at the school any more, in consequence of there being practical objections, into which I need not enter, to the reception there of the children of persons so employed, am prepared in these altered circumstances to make a proposal.I am willing to take charge of you, Jupe, and to educate you, and provide for you.The only condition（over and above your good behaviour）I make is, that you decide now, at once, whether to accompany me or remain here.Also, that if you accompany me now, it is understood that you communicate no more with any of your friends who are here present.These observations comprise the whole of the case.'‘At the thame time，'said Sleary，‘I mutht put in my word, Thquire, tho that both thides of the banner may be equally theen. If you like, Thethilia, to be prentitht, you know the natur of the work and you know your companionth.Emma Gordon, in whothe lap you're a lying at prethent, would be a mother toyou, and Joth'phine would be a thithter to you.I don't pretend to be of the angel breed myself, and I don't thay but what, when you mith’d your tip, you’d find me cut up rough, and thwear an oath or two at you.But what I thay, Thquire, ith, that good tempered or bad tempered, I never did a horthe a injury yet, no more than thwearing at him went, and that I don’t expect I thall begin otherwithe at my time of life, with a rider.I never wath much of a Cackler, Thquire, and I have thed my thay.’

The latter part of this speech was addressed to Mr. Gradgrind, who received it with a grave inclination of his head, and then remarked：‘The only observation I will make to you, Jupe, in the way of influencing your decision, is, that it is highly desirable to have a sound practical education, and that even your father himself（from what I understand）appears, on your behalf, to have known and felt that much.'

The last words had a visible effect upon her. She stopped in her wild crying, a little detached herself from Emma Gordon, and turned her face full upon her patron.The whole company perceived the force of the change, and drew a long breath together, that plainly said，‘she will go！'‘Be sure you know your own mind, Jupe，'Mr. Gradgrind cautioned her；‘I say no more.Be sure you know your own mind！'‘When father comes back，'cried the girl, bursting into tears again after a minute's silence，‘how will he ever find me if I go away！'‘You may be quite at ease，'said Mr. Gradgrind, calmly；he worked out the whole matter like a sum：‘you may be quite at ease, Jupe, on that score.In such a case, your father, I apprehend, must find out Mr.—'‘Thleary. Thath my name, Thquire.Not athamed of it.Known all over England, and alwayth paythe ith way.'‘Must find out Mr. Sleary, who would then let him know where you went.I should have no power of keeping you against his wish, and he would have no difficulty, at any time, in finding Mr.Thomas Gradgrind of Coketown.I am well known.'‘Well known，'assented Mr. Sleary, rolling his loose eye.‘You're one of the thort, Thquire, that keepth a prethiouth thight of money out of the houthe.But never mind that at prethent.'

There was another silence；and then she exclaimed, sobbing with her hands before her face，‘Oh, give me my clothes, give me my clothes, and let me go away before I break my heart！'

The women sadly bestirred themselves to get the clothes together—it was soon done, for they were not many—and to pack them in a basket which had often travelled with them. Sissy sat all the time upon the ground, still sobbing, and covering her eyes.Mr.Gradgrind and his friend Bounderby stood near the door, ready to take her away.Mr.Sleary stood in the middle of the room, with the male members of the company about him, exactly as he would have stood in the centre of the ring during his daughter Josephine's performance.He wanted nothing but his whip.

The basket packed in silence, they brought her bonnet to her, and smoothed her disordered hair, and put it on. Then they pressed about her, and bent over her in very natural attitudes, kissing and embracing her：and brought the children to take leave of her；and were a tender-hearted, simple, foolish set of women altogether.‘Now, Jupe，'said Mr. Gradgrind.‘If you are quite determined, come！'

But she had to take her farewell of the male part of the company yet, and every one of them had to unfold his arms（for they all assumed the professional attitude when they found themselves near Sleary），and give her a parting kiss—Master Kidderminster excepted, in whose young nature there was an original flavour of the misanthrope, who was also known to have harboured matrimonial views, and who moodily withdrew. Mr.Sleary was reserved until the last.Opening his arms wide he took her by both her hands, and would have sprung her up and down, after the riding-master manner of congratulating young ladies on their dismounting from a rapid act；but there was no rebound in Sissy, and she only stood before him crying.‘Good-bye, my dear！'said Sleary.‘You'll make your fortun, I hope, and none of our poor folkth will ever trouble you, I'll pound it. I with your father hadn't taken hith dog with him；ith a ill-conwenienth to have the dog out of the billth.But on thecond thoughth, he wouldn't have performed without hith mathter, tho ith ath broad ath ith long！’

With that he regarded her attentively with his fixed eye, surveyed hiscompany with his loose one, kissed her, shook his head, and handed her to Mr. Gradgrind as to a horse.‘There the ith, Thquire，'he said, sweeping her with a professional glance as if she were being adjusted in her seat，‘and the'll do you juthtithe. Good-bye, Thethilia！'‘Good-bye, Cecilia！'‘Good-bye, Sissy！'‘God bless you, dear！'In a variety of voices from all the room.

But the riding-master eye had observed the bottle of the nine oils in her bosom, and he now interposed with‘Leave the bottle, my dear；ith large to carry；it will be of no uthe to you now. Give it to me！'‘No, no！'she said, in another burst of tears.‘Oh, no！Pray let me keep it for father till he comes back！He will want it when he comes back. He had never thought of going away, when he sent me for it.I must keep it for him, if you please！'‘Tho be it, my dear.（You thee how it ith, Thquire！）Farewell, Thethilia！My latht wordth to you ith thith, Thtick to the termth of your engagement, be obedient to the Thquire, and forget uth. But if, when you're grown up and married and well off, you come upon any horthe-riding ever, don't be hard upon it, don't be croth with it, give it a Bethpeak if you can, and think you might do wurth.People mutht be amuthed, Thquire, thomehow，'continued Sleary, rendered more pursy than ever, by so much talking；‘they can't be alwayth a working, nor yet they can’t be alwayth a learning.Make the betht of uth；not the wurtht.I’ve got my living out of the horthe-riding all my life, I know；but I conthider that I lay down the philothophy of the thubject when I thay to you, Thquire, make the betht of uth：not the wurtht！’

The Sleary philosophy was propounded as they went downstairs and the fixed eye of Philosophy—and its rolling eye, too—soon lost the three figures and the basket in the darkness of the street.第七章　史巴斯特太太　Chapter Ⅶ　Mrs. Sparsit导读

史巴斯特太太是庞德贝先生的女管家，她出身高贵，她丈夫的外婆家是一个“婆雷”，即所谓的贵族世家。她的丈夫二十四岁便去世了，根本没留下什么财产，史巴斯特太太只得自己出来挣钱了。庞德贝先生每次都把史巴斯特太太的历史抖落一番，先用自己年轻时的悲惨和史巴斯特太太的富贵进行鲜明的对比，最终引申到如今结局的对照上，以此说明自己的伟大成就。

这天早晨用餐时，庞德贝先生提起了格莱恩先生想收养马戏团那个女孩的打算，为了避免让这个女孩和露易莎生活在一起，他表示愿意让女孩暂住到自己家里；同时也希望小汤姆能够先学些知识，到时候将他招到银行来工作。不一会儿，格莱恩先生带着西茜来了。西茜忘记向一旁的史巴斯特太太打招呼，庞德贝先生马上借此指责了西茜的无礼。格莱恩先生帮忙打了圆场，接着明确说明了自己决定带着西茜回家，一边上课，一边伺候格莱恩太太；他希望能够通过自己的培训和教育，向人们证明获得有益的训练是很好的一件事情。当格莱恩先生得知西茜平时喜欢念仙女、爱人、神怪等故事时，他气愤地打断了她的回答，更加觉得应该对这个女孩严加管教。

庞德贝先生并不同意让西茜和露易莎住在一起，但鉴于格莱恩先生的坚持，他也不再反对。事后他照样处理自己的事情，但史巴斯特太太却一直皱着眉头，思来想去。r. Bounderby being a bachelor, an elderly lady presided over hisestablishment, in consideration of a certain annual Mstipend.Mrs.Sparsit was this lady's name；and she was a prominent figure in attendance on Mr.Bounderby's car, as it rolled along in triumph with the Bully of humility inside.

For, Mrs. Sparsit had not only seen different days, but was highly connected.She had a great aunt living in these very times called Lady Scadgers.Mr.Sparsit, deceased, of whom she was the relict, had been by the mother's side what Mrs.Sparsit still called‘a Powler.'Strangers of limited information and dull apprehension were sometimes observed not to know what a Powler was, and even to appear uncertain whether it might be a business, or a political party, or a profession of faith.The better class of minds, however, did not need to be informed that the Powlers were an ancient stock, who could trace themselves so exceedingly far back that it was not surprising if they sometimes lost themselves—which they had rather frequently done, as respected horse-flesh, blind-hookey, Hebrew monetary transactions, and the Insolvent Debtors'Court.

The late Mr. Sparsit, being by the mother's side a Powler, married this lady, being by the father's side a Scadgers.Lady Scadgers（an immensely fat old woman, with an inordinate appetite for butcher's meat, and a mysterious leg which had now refused to get out of bed for fourteen years）contrived the marriage, at a period when Sparsit was just of age, and chiefly noticeable for a slender body, weakly supported on two long slim props, and surmounted by no head worth mentioning.He inherited a fair fortune from his uncle, but owed it all before he came into it, and spent it twice over immediately afterwards.Thus, when he died, at twenty-four（the scene of his decease, Calais, and the cause, brandy），he did not leave his widow, from whom he had been separated soon after the honeymoon, in affluent circumstances.That bereaved lady, fifteen years older than he, fell presently at deadly feud with her only relative, Lady Scadgers；and, partly to spite her ladyship, and partly to maintain herself, went out at a salary.And here she was now, in her elderly days, with the Coriolanian style of nose and the dense black eyebrows which had captivated Sparsit, making Mr.Bounderby's tea as he took his breakfast.

If Bounderby had been a Conqueror, and Mrs. Sparsit a captive Princess whom he took about as a feature in his state-processions, he could not have made a greater flourish with her than he habitually did.Just as it belonged to his boastfulness to depreciate his own extraction, so it belonged to it to exalt Mrs.Sparsit's.In the measure that he would not allow his own youth to have been attended by a single favourable circumstance, he brightened Mrs.Sparsit's juvenile career with every possible advantage, and showered waggon-loads of early roses all over that lady's path.‘And yet, sir，'he would say，‘how does it turn out after all？Why here she is at a hundred a year（I give her a hundred, which she is pleased to term handsome），keeping the house of Josiah Bounderby of Coketown！'

Nay, he made this foil of his so very widely known, that third parties took it up, and handled it on some occasions with considerable briskness. It was one of the most exasperating attributes of Bounderby, that he not only sang his own praises but stimulated other men to sing them.There was a moral infection of clap-trap in him.Strangers, modest enough elsewhere, started up at dinners in Coketown, and boasted, in quite a rampant way, of Bounderby.They made him out to be the Royal arms, the Union-Jack, Magna Charta, John Bull, Habeas Corpus, the Bill of Rights, An Englishman's house is his castle, Church and State, and God save the Queen, all put together.And as often（and it was very often）as an orator of this kind brought into his peroration， ‘Princes and lords may flourish or may fade, A breath can make them, as a breath has made，'

—it was, for certain, more or less understood among the company that he had heard of Mrs. Sparsit.‘Mr. Bounderby，'said Mrs.Sparsit，‘you are unusually slow, sir, with your breakfast this morning.'‘Why, ma'am，'he returned，‘I am thinking about Tom Gradgrind's whim；'Tom Gradgrind, for a bluff independent manner of speaking—as if somebody were always endeavouring to bribe him with immense sums to say Thomas, and he wouldn't；‘Tom Gradgrind’s whim, ma’am, of bringing up the tumbling-girl.’‘The girl is now waiting to know，'said Mrs. Sparsit，‘whether she is to gostraight to the school, or up to the Lodge.'‘She must wait, ma'am，'answered Bounderby，‘till I know myself. We shall have Tom Gradgrind down here presently, I suppose.If he should wish her to remain here a day or two longer, of course she can, ma'am.'‘Of course she can if you wish it, Mr. Bounderby.'‘I told him I would give her a shake-down here, last night, in order that he might sleep on it before he decided to let her have any association with Louisa.'‘Indeed, Mr. Bounderby？Very thoughtful of you！'Mrs.Sparsit's Coriolanian nose underwent a slight expansion of the nostrils, and her black eyebrows contracted as she took a sip of tea.‘It's tolerably clear to me，'said Bounderby，‘that the little puss can get small good out of such companionship.'‘Are you speaking of young Miss Gradgrind, Mr. Bounderby？'‘Yes, ma'am, I'm speaking of Louisa.'‘Your observation being limited to“little puss，”'said Mrs. Sparsit，‘and there being two little girls in question, I did not know which might be indicated by that expression.'‘Louisa，'repeated Mr. Bounderby.‘Louisa, Louisa.'‘You are quite another father to Louisa, sir.'Mrs. Sparsit took a little more tea；and, as she bent her again contracted eyebrows over her steaming cup, rather looked as if her classical countenance were invoking the infernal gods.‘If you had said I was another father to Tom—young Tom, I mean, not my friend Tom Gradgrind—you might have been nearer the mark. I am going to take young Tom into my office.Going to have him under my wing, ma'am.'‘Indeed？Rather young for that, is he not, sir？'Mrs. Spirit's‘sir，'in addressing Mr.Bounderby, was a word of ceremony, rather exacting consideration for herself in the use, than honouring him.‘I'm not going to take him at once；he is to finish his educational cramming before then，'said Bounderby.‘By the Lord Harry, he'll have enough of it, first and last！He'd open his eyes, that boy would, if he knew how empty of learning my young maw was, at his time of life.'Which, by the by, he probably did know, for he had heard of it often enough.‘But it’s extraordinarythe difficulty I have on scores of such subjects, in speaking to any one on equal terms. Here, for example, I have been speaking to you this morning about tumblers.Why, what do you know about tumblers？At the time when, to have been a tumbler in the mud of the streets, would have been a godsend to me, a prize in the lottery to me, you were at the Italian Opera.You were coming out of the Italian Opera, ma’am, in white satin and jewels, a blaze of splendour, when I hadn’t a penny to buy a link to light you.’‘I certainly, sir，'returned Mrs. Sparsit, with a dignity serenely mournful，‘was familiar with the Italian Opera at a very early age.'‘Egad, ma'am, so was I，'said Bounderby，‘—with the wrong side of it. A hard bed the pavement of its Arcade used to make, I assure you.People like you, ma'am, accustomed from infancy to lie on Down feathers, have no idea how hard a paving-stone is, without trying it.No, no, it's of no use my talking to you about tumblers.I should speak of foreign dancers, and the West End of London, and May Fair, and lords and ladies and honourables.'‘I trust, sir，'rejoined Mrs. Sparsit, with decent resignation，‘it is not necessary that you should do anything of that kind.I hope I have learnt how to accommodate myself to the changes of life.If I have acquired an interest in hearing of your instructive experiences, and can scarcely hear enough of them, I claim no merit for that, since I believe it is a general sentiment.'‘Well, ma'am，'said her patron，‘perhaps some people may be pleased to say that they do like to hear, in his own unpolished way, what Josiah Bounderby, of Coketown, has gone through. But you must confess that you were born in the lap of luxury, yourself.Come, ma'am, you know you were born in the lap of luxury.'‘I do not, sir，'returned Mrs. Sparsit with a shake of her head，‘deny it.'

Mr. Bounderby was obliged to get up from table, and stand with his back to the fire, looking at her；she was such an enhancement of his position.‘And you were in crack society. Devilish high society，'he said, warming his legs.‘It is true, sir，'returned Mrs. Sparsit, with an affectation of humility the very opposite of his, and therefore in no danger of jostling it.‘You were in the tiptop fashion, and all the rest of it，'said Mr. Bounderby.‘Yes, sir，'returned Mrs.Sparsit, with a kind of social widowhood upon her.‘It is unquestionably true.'

Mr. Bounderby, bending himself at the knees, literally embraced his legs in his great satisfaction and laughed aloud.Mr.and Miss Gradgrind being then announced, he received the former with a shake of the hand, and the latter with a kiss.‘Can Jupe be sent here, Bounderby？'asked Mr. Gradgrind.

Certainly. So Jupe was sent there.On coming in, she curtseyed to Mr.Bounderby, and to his friend Tom Gradgrind, and also to Louisa；but in her confusion unluckily omitted Mrs.Sparsit.Observing this, the blustrous Bounderby had the following remarks to make：‘Now, I tell you what, my girl. The name of that lady by the teapot, is Mrs.Sparsit.That lady acts as mistress of this house, and she is a highly connected lady.Consequently, if ever you come again into any room in this house, you will make a short stay in it if you don't behave towards that lady in your most respectful manner.Now, I don't care a button what you do to me, because I don't affect to be anybody.So far from having high connections I have no connections at all, and I come of the scum of the earth.But towards that lady, I do care what you do；and you shall do what is deferential and respectful, or you shall not come here.'‘I hope, Bounderby，'said Mr. Gradgrind, in a conciliatory voice，‘that this was merely an oversight.'‘My friend Tom Gradgrind suggests, Mrs. Sparsit，'said Bounderby，‘that this was merely an oversight.Very likely.However, as you are aware, ma'am, I don't allow of even oversights towards you.'‘You are very good indeed, sir，'returned Mrs. Sparsit, shaking her head with her State humility.‘It is not worth speaking of.'

Sissy, who all this time had been faintly excusing herself with tears in her eyes, was now waved over by the master of the house to Mr. Gradgrind.She stood looking intently at him, and Louisa stood coldly by, with her eyes upon the ground, while he proceeded thus：‘Jupe, I have made up my mind to take you into my house；and, when you are not in attendance at the school, to employ you about Mrs. Gradgrind, whois rather an invalid.I have explained to Miss Louisa—this is Miss Louisa—the miserable but natural end of your late career；and you are to expressly understand that the whole of that subject is past, and is not to be referred to any more.From this time you begin your history.You are, at present, ignorant, I know.'‘Yes, sir, very，'she answered, curtseying.‘I shall have the satisfaction of causing you to be strictly educated；and you will be a living proof to all who come into communication with you, of the advantages of the training you will receive. You will be reclaimed and formed.You have been in the habit now of reading to your father, and those people I found you among, I dare say？'said Mr.Gradgrind, beckoning her nearer to him before he said so, and dropping his voice.‘Only to father and Merrylegs, sir. At least I mean to father, when Merrylegs was always there.'‘Never mind Merrylegs, Jupe，'said Mr. Gradgrind, with a passing frown.‘I don't ask about him.I understand you to have been in the habit of reading to your father？'‘O, yes, sir, thousands of times. They were the happiest—O, of all the happy times we had together, sir！'

It was only now when her sorrow broke out, that Louisa looked at her.‘And what，'asked Mr. Gradgrind, in a still lower voice，‘did you read to your father, Jupe？'‘About the Fairies, sir, and the Dwarf, and the Hunchback, and the Genies，'she sobbed out；‘and about—'‘Hush！'said Mr. Gradgrind，‘that is enough.Never breathe a word of such destructive nonsense any more.Bounderby, this is a case for rigid training, and I shall observe it with interest.'‘Well，'returned Mr. Bounderby，‘I have given you my opinion already, and I shouldn't do as you do.But, very well, very well.Since you are bent upon it, very well！'

So, Mr. Gradgrind and his daughter took Cecilia Jupe off with them to Stone Lodge, and on the way Louisa never spoke one word, good or bad.And Mr.Bounderby went about his daily pursuits.And Mrs.Sparsit got behind her eyebrows and meditated in the gloom of that retreat, all the evening.第八章　从不疑惑　Chapter Ⅷ　Never Wonder导读“从不疑惑”是格莱恩先生教育孩子的根本原则。整个焦煤镇上的孩子，都是在这一原则下接受着教育。格莱恩先生对于镇上图书馆中书籍的摆设伤透了脑筋，因为光临图书馆的读者们对书中相关事件的描述，不断感到疑惑。

一天，汤姆告诉姐姐自己已经对人生感到了厌倦，他对着姐姐发泄着自己的闷气，甚至希望自己能够像驴子那样踢几脚，现在似乎只有姐姐露易莎能够明白他的心情。汤姆觉得父亲的那种教育方式对男孩子造成的损害比女孩子要大得多；他幻想着和庞德贝先生一起生活的时候，就可以到处走走，接受一些新鲜事物，弥补这些年来因父亲的教育所造成的损失。露易莎认为庞德贝先生相比父亲而言，有过之而无不及。汤姆早已把姐姐作为对付庞德贝先生的法宝，他看出了庞德贝先生对姐姐的意思。很快汤姆又回到了现实之中，露易莎问他是否真的很想去庞德贝先生那边，得到了弟弟肯定的回答。露易莎觉得自己的脑海里出现了很多无法控制的思想，好多事情都让她觉得迷惑。就在这时，格莱恩太太开门走了进来，她责备两个孩子竟然有那种不应该出现的思想，实在是浪费了教育上的花费；她提醒露易莎千万不可以出现那些念头，更不希望孩子们的这些言语传到丈夫耳朵里，否则她又得听着丈夫唠叨个没完。

T us strike the key-note again, before pursuing the tune. LE

When she was half a dozen years younger, Louisa had been overheard to begin a conversation with her brother one day, by saying‘Tom, I wonder'—upon which Mr. Gradgrind, who was the person overhearing, stepped forth into the light and said，‘Louisa, never wonder！'

Herein lay the spring of the mechanical art and mystery of educating the reason without stooping to the cultivation of the sentiments and affections. Never wonder.By means of addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division, settle everything somehow, and never wonder.Bring to me, says M'Choakumchild, yonder baby just able to walk, and I will engage that it shall never wonder.

Now, besides very many babies just able to walk, there happened to be in Coketown a considerable population of babies who had been walking against time towards the infinite world, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty years and more. These portentous infants being alarming creatures to stalk about in any human society, the eighteen denominations incessantly scratched one another's faces and pulled one another's hair by way of agreeing on the steps to be taken for their improvement—which they never did；a surprising circumstance, when the happy adaptation of the means to the end is considered.Still, although they differed in every other particular, conceivable and inconceivable（especially inconceivable），they were pretty well united on the point that these unlucky infants were never to wonder.Body number one, said they must take everything on trust.Body number two, said they must take everything on political economy.Body number three, wrote leaden little books for them, showing how the good grown-up baby invariably got to the Savings-bank, and the bad grown-up baby invariably got transported.Body number four, under dreary pretences of being droll（when it was very melancholy indeed），made the shallowest pretences of concealing pitfalls of knowledge, into which it was the duty of these babies to be smuggled and inveigled.But, all the bodies agreed that they were never to wonder.

There was a library in Coketown, to which general access was easy. Mr.Gradgrind greatly tormented his mind about what the people read in this library：a point whereon little rivers of tabular statements periodically flowed into the howling ocean of tabular statements, which no diver ever got to any depth inand came up sane.It was a disheartening circumstance, but a melancholy fact, that even these readers persisted in wondering.They wondered about human nature, human passions, human hopes and fears, the struggles, triumphs and defeats, the cares and joys and sorrows, the lives and deaths of common men and women！They sometimes, after fifteen hours'work, sat down to read mere fables about men and women, more or less like themselves, and about children, more or less like their own.They took De Foe to their bosoms, instead of Euclid, and seemed to be on the whole more comforted by Goldsmith than by Cocker.Mr.Gradgrind was for ever working, in print and out of print, at this eccentric sum, and he never could make out how it yielded this unaccountable product.‘I am sick of my life, Loo. I, hate it altogether, and I hate everybody except you，'said the unnatural young Thomas Gradgrind in the hair-cutting chamber at twilight.‘You don't hate Sissy, Tom？'‘I hate to be obliged to call her Jupe. And she hates me，'said Tom, moodily.‘No, she does not, Tom, I am sure！'‘She must，'said Tom.‘She must just hate and detest the whole set-out of us. They'll bother her head off, I think, before they have done with her.Already she's getting as pale as wax, and as heavy as—I am.'

Young Thomas expressed these sentiments sitting astride of a chair before the fire, with his arms on the back, and his sulky face on his arms. His sister sat in the darker corner by the fireside, now looking at him, now looking at the bright sparks as they dropped upon the hearth.‘As to me，'said Tom, tumbling his hair all manner of ways with his sulky hands，‘I am a Donkey, that's what I am. I am as obstinate as one, I am more stupid than one, I get as much pleasure as one, and I should like to kick like one.'‘Not me, I hope, Tom？'‘No, Loo；I wouldn't hurt you. I made an exception of you at first.I don't know what this—jolly old—Jaundiced Jail，'Tom had paused to find a sufficiently complimentary and expressive name for the parental roof, andseemed to relieve his mind for a moment by the strong alliteration of this one，‘would be without you.'‘Indeed, Tom？Do you really and truly say so？'‘Why, of course I do. What's the use of talking about it！'returned Tom, chafing his face on his coat-sleeve, as if to mortify his flesh, and have it in unison with his spirit.‘Because, Tom，'said his sister, after silently watching the sparks awhile，‘as I get older, and nearer growing up, I often sit wondering here, and think how unfortunate it is for me that I can't reconcile you to home better than I am able to do. I don't know what other girls know.I can't play to you, or sing to you.I can't talk to you so as to lighten your mind, for I never see any amusing sights or read any amusing books that it would be a pleasure or a relief to you to talk about, when you are tired.’‘Well, no more do I. I am as bad as you in that respect；and I am a Mule too, which you're not.If father was determined to make me either a Prig or a Mule, and I am not a Prig, why, it stands to reason, I must be a Mule.And so I am，'said Tom, desperately.‘It's a great pity，'said Louisa, after another pause, and speaking thoughtfully out of her dark corner：‘it's a great pity, Tom. It's very unfortunate for both of us.'‘Oh！You，'said Tom；‘you are a girl, Loo, and a girl comes out of it better than a boy does. I don't miss anything in you.You are the only pleasure I have—you can brighten even this place—and you can always lead me as you like.'‘You are a dear brother, Tom；and while you think I can do such things, I don't so much mind knowing better. Though I do know better, Tom, and am very sorry for it.'She came and kissed him, and went back into her corner again.‘I wish I could collect all the Facts we hear so much about，'said Tom, spitefully setting his teeth，‘and all the Figures, and all the people who found them out：and I wish I could put a thousand barrels of gunpowder under them, and blow them all up together！However, when I go to live with old Bounderby, I'll have my revenge.'‘Your revenge, Tom？'‘I mean, I'll enjoy myself a little, and go about and see something, and hear something. I'll recompense myself for the way in which I have been brought up.'‘But don't disappoint yourself beforehand, Tom. Mr.Bounderby thinks as father thinks, and is a great deal rougher, and not half so kind.'‘Oh！'said Tom, laughing；‘I don't mind that. I shall very well know how to manage and smooth old Bounderby！'

Their shadows were defined upon the wall, but those of the high presses in the room were all blended together on the wall and on the ceiling, as if the brother and sister were overhung by a dark cavern. Or, a fanciful imagination—if such treason could have been there—might have made it out to be the shadow of their subject, and of its lowering association with their future.‘What is your great mode of smoothing and managing, Tom？Is it a secret？'‘Oh！'said Tom，‘if it is a secret, it's not far off. It's you.You are his little pet, you are his favourite；he'll do anything for you.When he says to me what I don't like, I shall say to him，“My sister Loo will be hurt and disappointed, Mr.Bounderby.She always used to tell me she was sure you would be easier with me than this.”That’ll bring him about, or nothing will.’

After waiting for some answering remark, and getting none, Tom wearily relapsed into the present time, and twined himself yawning round and about the rails of his chair, and rumpled his head more and more, until he suddenly looked up, and asked：‘Have you gone to sleep, Loo？'‘No, Tom. I am looking at the fire.'‘You seem to find more to look at in it than ever I could find，'said Tom.‘Another of the advantages, I suppose, of being a girl.'‘Tom，'enquired his sister, slowly, and in a curious tone, as if she were reading what she asked in the fire, and it was not quite plainly written there，‘do you look forward with any satisfaction to this change to Mr. Bounderby's？'‘Why, there's one thing to be said of it，'returned Tom, pushing his chair from him, and standing up；‘it will be getting away from home.'‘There is one thing to be said of it，'Louisa repeated in her former curious tone；‘it will be getting away from home. Yes.'‘Not but what I shall be very unwilling, both to leave you, Loo, and to leave you here. But I must go, you know, whether I like it or not；and I had better go where I can take with me some advantage of your influence, than where I should lose it altogether.Don't you see？'‘Yes, Tom.'

The answer was so long in coming, though there was no indecision in it, that Tom went and leaned on the back of her chair, to contemplate the fire which so engrossed her, from her point of view, and see what he could make of it.‘Except that it is a fire，'said Tom，‘it looks to me as stupid and blank as everything else looks. What do you see in it？Not a circus？'‘I don't see anything in it, Tom, particularly. But since I have been looking at it, I have been wondering about you and me, grown up.'‘Wondering again！'said Tom.‘I have such unmanageable thoughts，'returned his sister，‘that they will wonder.'‘Then I beg of you, Louisa，'said Mrs. Gradgrind, who had opened the door without being heard，‘to do nothing of that description, for goodness'sake, you inconsiderate girl, or I shall never hear the last of it from your father.And, Thomas, it is really shameful, with my poor head continually wearing me out, that a boy brought up as you have been, and whose education has cost what yours has, should be found encouraging his sister to wonder, when he knows his father has expressly said that she is not to do it.'

Louisa denied Tom's participation in the offence；but her mother stopped her with the conclusive answer，‘Louisa, don't tell me, in my state of health；for unless you had been encouraged, it is morally and physically impossible that you could have done it.'‘I was encouraged by nothing, mother, but by looking at the red sparks dropping out of the fire, and whitening and dying. It made me think, after all, how short my life would be, and how little I could hope to do in it.'‘Nonsense！'said Mrs. Gradgrind, rendered almost energetic.‘Nonsense！Don't stand there and tell me such stuff, Louisa, to my face, when you know very well that if it was ever to reach your father's ears I should never hear the last of it.After all the trouble that has been taken with you！After the lectures you have attended, and the experiments you have seen！After I have heard you myself, when the whole of my right side has been benumbed, going on with your master about combustion, and calcination, and calorification, and I may say every kind of ation that could drive a poor invalid distracted, to hear you talking in this absurd way about sparks and ashes！I wish，'whimpered Mrs.Gradgrind, taking a chair, and discharging her strongest point before succumbing under these mere shadows of facts，‘yes, I really do wish that I had never had a family, and then you would have known what it was to do without me！'第九章　西茜的进步　Chapter Ⅸ　Sissy’s Progress导读

西茜在格莱恩家中的生活并不好过，她甚至想过逃跑，但是深信父亲会回来找她的念头阻止了她。她到目前为止都不相信父亲是真的抛弃了她，这让格莱恩先生对她充满了同情。麦恰克柴德先生向格莱恩先生汇报了西茜的学习情况：这个女孩对于数字问题一窍不通，对于历史年代的默记能力很差。西茜在他们的要求下继续坚持学习，但弄得自己一直萎靡不振，学习成绩也没有得到提升。

西茜和露易莎小姐很少有接触的机会。偶尔见到，西茜表达了自己对露易莎的羡慕之情，讲述了自己在学校上课的不尽人意的情况，并以一些事例说明了自己对一些问题的不理解。“统计”是西茜遇到的最大难关。麦恰克柴德先生曾问她有关遇难人数比例的问题，但对于西茜而言只要有人遇难，就代表着什么都没有了，那些统计数据根本就没有意义。西茜和那些讲求事实的人们理解问题的角度完全不同，这让露易莎也感到诧异。露易莎趁此机会了解了西茜的家庭情况：她的母亲是一个跳舞的女人，生下她便去世了；父亲是马戏团的小丑，常常在晚上听她读一些故事；对她一直很慈爱，在出走前几天心情一直很不好，可能是因为总是不能让观众满意的关系；西茜称父亲对着狗发了很大的脾气，最后抱着狗痛哭流涕。讲到这里，西茜忍不住流下了眼泪。在露易莎的请求下，她坚持讲述了父亲离开的过程。汤姆这时走了进来，他希望姐姐能够带着自己一起去老庞德贝家吃饭，在旁边一直着急地催促着姐姐，根本不理会还在讲述自己悲惨遭遇的西茜。

这以后，每次西茜遇到格莱恩先生，总会询问是否有自己的信件，露易莎也期待着父亲的回答，但每次都是让人失望的答复。看到女儿眼中时常会露出怜悯的目光，格莱恩先生总是抓住机会教育她。

ISSY JUPE had not an easy time of it, between Mr.

M'Choakumchild and Mrs.Gradgrind, and was not without strong S

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 opened 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 Jupe 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'Choakumchild 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 connected therewith；that she would burst into tears on being required（by the mental process）immediately to name the cost of two hundred and forty-seven muslin caps at fourteen-pence halfpenny；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 prattler 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 thatJupe‘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 endeavoured 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 the better for it, Sissy.'

Sissy submitted, after a little hesitation，‘I should not be the worse, Miss Louisa.'To which Miss Louisa answered，‘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 wonderingly 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 her than I can ever be，'Louisa resumed.‘You are pleasanter to yourself, than I am to myself.'‘But, if you please, Miss Louisa，'Sissy pleaded，‘I am—O so stupid！'

Louisa, with a brighter laugh than usual, told her she would be wiser by-and-by.‘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'Choakumchild 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'Choakumchild never make any mistakes themselves, I suppose, Sissy？'‘O no！'she eagerly returned.‘They know everything.'‘Tell me some of your mistakes.'‘I am almost ashamed，'said Sissy, with reluctance.‘But to-day, for instance, Mr. M'Choakumchild 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, this schoolroom is a Nation.And in this nation, there are fifty millions of money.Isn't this a prosperous nation？Girl number twenty, isn't this a prosperous nation, and a'n't you in a thriving state？'‘What did you say？'asked Louisa.‘Miss 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, Miss Louisa, I know it was, now. Then Mr.M'Choakumchild 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—for 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 was.'‘Then Mr. M'Choakumchild said he would try me once more.And he said, Here are the stutterings—'‘Statistics，'said Louisa.‘Yes, Miss Louisa—they always remind me of stutterings, and that's another of my mistakes—of accidents upon the sea. And I find（Mr.M'Choakumchild 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 all is, that although my poor father wished me so much to learn, and although I am so anxious to learn, because he wished me to, I am afraid I don't like it.'

Louisa stood looking at the pretty modest head, as it drooped abashed 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 any one did, I am 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's plain to me.'‘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.‘O 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 travelled about the country, and had no fixed place to live in. Father's a；'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；but 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 to him to cheer his courage, and he was very fond of that.They were wrong books—I am never to speak of them here—but we didn't know there was any harm in them.'‘And he liked them？'said Louisa, with a searching gaze on Sissy all this time.‘O very much！They kept him, many times, from what did him real harm. And often and often of a night, he used to forget all his troubles in 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 and kinder than I can tell. He was angry only one night, and that was not to me, but Merrylegs.Merrylegs；'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 Merrylegs 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 father's 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！O Heaven forgive you, father, stop！”And hestopped, 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, kissed her, took her hand, and sat down beside her.‘Finish 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.'‘Dear Miss Louisa，'said Sissy, covering her eyes, and sobbing yet；‘I came home from the 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 that 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 savouring of interest in anything but himself, and not much of that at present.‘I am asking Sissy a few questions, Tom，'observed his sister.‘You have no occasion to go away；but don't interrupt us for a

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