Тяжёлые времена

The Keynote

           Iaskedherifshewouldknowhowtodefineahorseto-morrow,andofferedtotellheragain,andsheranaway,andIranafterher,sir,thatshemightknowhowtoanswerwhenshewasasked.Youwouldn’thavethoughtofsayingsuchmischiefifyouhadn’tbeenahorse-rider?’

           ‘Hercallingseemstobeprettywellknownamong’em,’observedMr.Bounderby.‘You’dhavehadthewholeschoolpeepinginarow,inaweek.’

           ‘Truly,Ithinkso,’returnedhisfriend.‘Bitzer,turnyouaboutandtakeyourselfhome.Jupe,stayhereamoment.Letmehearofyourrunninginthismanneranymore,boy,andyouwillhearofmethroughthemasteroftheschool.YouunderstandwhatImean.Goalong.’

           Theboystoppedinhisrapidblinking,knuckledhisforeheadagain,glancedatSissy,turnedabout,andretreated.

           ‘Now,girl,’saidMr.Gradgrind,‘takethisgentlemanandmetoyourfather’s;wearegoingthere.Whathaveyougotinthatbottleyouarecarrying?’

           ‘Gin,’saidMr.Bounderby.

           ‘Dear,no,sir!It’sthenineoils.’

           ‘Thewhat?’criedMr.Bounderby.

           ‘Thenineoils,sir,torubfatherwith.’

           ‘Then,’saidMr.Bounderby,withaloudshortlaugh,‘whatthedevildoyourubyourfatherwithnineoilsfor?’

           ‘It’swhatourpeopleawaysuse,sir,whentheygetanyhurtsinthering,’repliedthegirl,lookingoverhershoulder,toassureherselfthatherpursuerwasgone.‘Theybruisethemselvesverybadsometimes.’

           ‘Serve’emright,’saidMr.Bounderby,‘forbeingidle

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