2013年03月15日

She must just door bells

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. Door Bells 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 in and 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 hourswork, 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. Door Bells 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 Door Bells 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 door bells
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