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"I supposed so, from their all appearing to keep away from you. Mr. Bounderby wants to speak to you. You know his house, don't you?" | Bitzer | question. Stephen answered "Yes," again.<|quote|>"I supposed so, from their all appearing to keep away from you. Mr. Bounderby wants to speak to you. You know his house, don't you?"</|quote|>Stephen said "Yes," again. "Then | very light young man in question. Stephen answered "Yes," again.<|quote|>"I supposed so, from their all appearing to keep away from you. Mr. Bounderby wants to speak to you. You know his house, don't you?"</|quote|>Stephen said "Yes," again. "Then go straight up there, will | in his gratitude for being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a feint of adjusting the lining, and said, "Yes." "You are the Hand they have sent to Coventry, I mean?" said Bitzer, the very light young man in question. Stephen answered "Yes," again.<|quote|>"I supposed so, from their all appearing t... | four days, and had spoken to no one, when, as he was leaving his work at night, a young man of a very light complexion accosted him in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his hand, in his gratitude for being spoken to, or in the suddenness ... | so long and heavy, that he began to be appalled by the prospect before him. Not only did he see no Rachael all the time, but he avoided every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the factories, he found that some of them with whom he was ac... | land who looks into ten thousand faces for some answering look and never finds it, is in cheering society as compared with him who passes ten averted faces daily, that were once the countenances of friends. Such experience was to be Stephen's now, in every waking moment of his life; at his work, on his way to it and fr... | yo. I hope I shall die ere ever such a time cooms, and I shall work solitary among yo unless it cooms truly, I mun do 't, my friends; not to brave yo, but to live. I ha nobbut work to live by; and wheerever can I go, I who ha worked sin I were no heighth at aw, in Coketown heer? I mak' no complaints o' bein turned to t... | own conscience his abandonment by all his fellows from a baseless sense of shame and disgrace. The first four days of his endurance were days so long and heavy, that he began to be appalled by the prospect before him. Not only did he see no Rachael all the time, but he avoided every chance of seeing her; for, although ... | Hard Times |
Stephen said | No speaker | know his house, don't you?"<|quote|>Stephen said</|quote|>"Yes," again. "Then go straight | to speak to you. You know his house, don't you?"<|quote|>Stephen said</|quote|>"Yes," again. "Then go straight up there, will you?" said | "Yes." "You are the Hand they have sent to Coventry, I mean?" said Bitzer, the very light young man in question. Stephen answered "Yes," again. "I supposed so, from their all appearing to keep away from you. Mr. Bounderby wants to speak to you. You know his house, don't you?"<|quote|>Stephen said</|quote|>"Yes," again.... | accosted him in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his hand, in his gratitude for being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a feint of adjusting the lining, and said, "Yes." "You are the Hand they have sent to Coventry,... | but he avoided every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the factories, he found that some of them with whom he was acquainted were changed to him, and he feared to try others, and dreaded that Rachael might be even singled out from the re... | ten averted faces daily, that were once the countenances of friends. Such experience was to be Stephen's now, in every waking moment of his life; at his work, on his way to it and from it, at his door, at his window, everywhere. By general consent, they even avoided that side of the street on which he habitually walked... | do 't, my friends; not to brave yo, but to live. I ha nobbut work to live by; and wheerever can I go, I who ha worked sin I were no heighth at aw, in Coketown heer? I mak' no complaints o' bein turned to the wa', o' bein outcasten and overlooken fro this time forrard, but hope I shall be let to work. If there is any ri... | even avoided that side of the street on which he habitually walked; and left it, of all the working men, to him only. He had been for many years, a quiet silent man, associating but little with other men, and used to companionship with his own thoughts. He had never known before the strength of the want in his heart fo... | Hard Times |
"Yes," | Stephen Blackpool | house, don't you?" Stephen said<|quote|>"Yes,"</|quote|>again. "Then go straight up | to you. You know his house, don't you?" Stephen said<|quote|>"Yes,"</|quote|>again. "Then go straight up there, will you?" said Bitzer. | are the Hand they have sent to Coventry, I mean?" said Bitzer, the very light young man in question. Stephen answered "Yes," again. "I supposed so, from their all appearing to keep away from you. Mr. Bounderby wants to speak to you. You know his house, don't you?" Stephen said<|quote|>"Yes,"</|quote|>again. "Then go st... | in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his hand, in his gratitude for being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a feint of adjusting the lining, and said, "Yes." "You are the Hand they have sent to Coventry, I mean?" sai... | avoided every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the factories, he found that some of them with whom he was acquainted were changed to him, and he feared to try others, and dreaded that Rachael might be even singled out from the rest if s... | faces daily, that were once the countenances of friends. Such experience was to be Stephen's now, in every waking moment of his life; at his work, on his way to it and from it, at his door, at his window, everywhere. By general consent, they even avoided that side of the street on which he habitually walked; and left i... | my friends; not to brave yo, but to live. I ha nobbut work to live by; and wheerever can I go, I who ha worked sin I were no heighth at aw, in Coketown heer? I mak' no complaints o' bein turned to the wa', o' bein outcasten and overlooken fro this time forrard, but hope I shall be let to work. If there is any right for... | now, in every waking moment of his life; at his work, on his way to it and from it, at his door, at his window, everywhere. By general consent, they even avoided that side of the street on which he habitually walked; and left it, of all the working men, to him only. He had been for many years, a quiet silent man, assoc... | Hard Times |
again. | No speaker | don't you?" Stephen said "Yes,"<|quote|>again.</|quote|>"Then go straight up there, | you. You know his house, don't you?" Stephen said "Yes,"<|quote|>again.</|quote|>"Then go straight up there, will you?" said Bitzer. "You're | the Hand they have sent to Coventry, I mean?" said Bitzer, the very light young man in question. Stephen answered "Yes," again. "I supposed so, from their all appearing to keep away from you. Mr. Bounderby wants to speak to you. You know his house, don't you?" Stephen said "Yes,"<|quote|>again.</|quote|>"Then go straig... | the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his hand, in his gratitude for being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a feint of adjusting the lining, and said, "Yes." "You are the Hand they have sent to Coventry, I mean?" said B... | every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the factories, he found that some of them with whom he was acquainted were changed to him, and he feared to try others, and dreaded that Rachael might be even singled out from the rest if she were ... | daily, that were once the countenances of friends. Such experience was to be Stephen's now, in every waking moment of his life; at his work, on his way to it and from it, at his door, at his window, everywhere. By general consent, they even avoided that side of the street on which he habitually walked; and left it, of ... | friends; not to brave yo, but to live. I ha nobbut work to live by; and wheerever can I go, I who ha worked sin I were no heighth at aw, in Coketown heer? I mak' no complaints o' bein turned to the wa', o' bein outcasten and overlooken fro this time forrard, but hope I shall be let to work. If there is any right for me... | he began to be appalled by the prospect before him. Not only did he see no Rachael all the time, but he avoided every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the factories, he found that some of them with whom he was acquainted were changed to... | Hard Times |
"Then go straight up there, will you?" | Bitzer | you?" Stephen said "Yes," again.<|quote|>"Then go straight up there, will you?"</|quote|>said Bitzer. "You're expected, and | You know his house, don't you?" Stephen said "Yes," again.<|quote|>"Then go straight up there, will you?"</|quote|>said Bitzer. "You're expected, and have only to tell the | Hand they have sent to Coventry, I mean?" said Bitzer, the very light young man in question. Stephen answered "Yes," again. "I supposed so, from their all appearing to keep away from you. Mr. Bounderby wants to speak to you. You know his house, don't you?" Stephen said "Yes," again.<|quote|>"Then go straight up there, ... | street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his hand, in his gratitude for being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a feint of adjusting the lining, and said, "Yes." "You are the Hand they have sent to Coventry, I mean?" said Bitze... | chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the factories, he found that some of them with whom he was acquainted were changed to him, and he feared to try others, and dreaded that Rachael might be even singled out from the rest if she were seen i... | that were once the countenances of friends. Such experience was to be Stephen's now, in every waking moment of his life; at his work, on his way to it and from it, at his door, at his window, everywhere. By general consent, they even avoided that side of the street on which he habitually walked; and left it, of all the... | not to brave yo, but to live. I ha nobbut work to live by; and wheerever can I go, I who ha worked sin I were no heighth at aw, in Coketown heer? I mak' no complaints o' bein turned to the wa', o' bein outcasten and overlooken fro this time forrard, but hope I shall be let to work. If there is any right for me at aw, m... | a baseless sense of shame and disgrace. The first four days of his endurance were days so long and heavy, that he began to be appalled by the prospect before him. Not only did he see no Rachael all the time, but he avoided every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally exten... | Hard Times |
said Bitzer. | No speaker | straight up there, will you?"<|quote|>said Bitzer.</|quote|>"You're expected, and have only | said "Yes," again. "Then go straight up there, will you?"<|quote|>said Bitzer.</|quote|>"You're expected, and have only to tell the servant it's | mean?" said Bitzer, the very light young man in question. Stephen answered "Yes," again. "I supposed so, from their all appearing to keep away from you. Mr. Bounderby wants to speak to you. You know his house, don't you?" Stephen said "Yes," again. "Then go straight up there, will you?"<|quote|>said Bitzer.</|quote|>"Y... | the young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his hand, in his gratitude for being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a feint of adjusting the lining, and said, "Yes." "You are the Hand they have sent to Coventry, I mean?" said Bitzer, the very light young man in question. Stephen... | knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the factories, he found that some of them with whom he was acquainted were changed to him, and he feared to try others, and dreaded that Rachael might be even singled out from the rest if she were seen in his company. So, he had been quite al... | Such experience was to be Stephen's now, in every waking moment of his life; at his work, on his way to it and from it, at his door, at his window, everywhere. By general consent, they even avoided that side of the street on which he habitually walked; and left it, of all the working men, to him only. He had been for m... | I ha nobbut work to live by; and wheerever can I go, I who ha worked sin I were no heighth at aw, in Coketown heer? I mak' no complaints o' bein turned to the wa', o' bein outcasten and overlooken fro this time forrard, but hope I shall be let to work. If there is any right for me at aw, my friends, I think 'tis that."... | a baseless sense of shame and disgrace. The first four days of his endurance were days so long and heavy, that he began to be appalled by the prospect before him. Not only did he see no Rachael all the time, but he avoided every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally exten... | Hard Times |
"You're expected, and have only to tell the servant it's you. I belong to the Bank; so, if you go straight up without me (I was sent to fetch you), you'll save me a walk." | Bitzer | there, will you?" said Bitzer.<|quote|>"You're expected, and have only to tell the servant it's you. I belong to the Bank; so, if you go straight up without me (I was sent to fetch you), you'll save me a walk."</|quote|>Stephen, whose way had been | again. "Then go straight up there, will you?" said Bitzer.<|quote|>"You're expected, and have only to tell the servant it's you. I belong to the Bank; so, if you go straight up without me (I was sent to fetch you), you'll save me a walk."</|quote|>Stephen, whose way had been in the contrary direction, turned | Bitzer, the very light young man in question. Stephen answered "Yes," again. "I supposed so, from their all appearing to keep away from you. Mr. Bounderby wants to speak to you. You know his house, don't you?" Stephen said "Yes," again. "Then go straight up there, will you?" said Bitzer.<|quote|>"You're expected, and h... | man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his hand, in his gratitude for being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a feint of adjusting the lining, and said, "Yes." "You are the Hand they have sent to Coventry, I mean?" said Bitzer, the very light young man in question. Stephen answered ... | the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the factories, he found that some of them with whom he was acquainted were changed to him, and he feared to try others, and dreaded that Rachael might be even singled out from the rest if she were seen in his company. So, he had been quite alone during... | was to be Stephen's now, in every waking moment of his life; at his work, on his way to it and from it, at his door, at his window, everywhere. By general consent, they even avoided that side of the street on which he habitually walked; and left it, of all the working men, to him only. He had been for many years, a qui... | nobbut work to live by; and wheerever can I go, I who ha worked sin I were no heighth at aw, in Coketown heer? I mak' no complaints o' bein turned to the wa', o' bein outcasten and overlooken fro this time forrard, but hope I shall be let to work. If there is any right for me at aw, my friends, I think 'tis that." Not ... | at his work, on his way to it and from it, at his door, at his window, everywhere. By general consent, they even avoided that side of the street on which he habitually walked; and left it, of all the working men, to him only. He had been for many years, a quiet silent man, associating but little with other men, and use... | Hard Times |
Stephen, whose way had been in the contrary direction, turned about, and betook himself as in duty bound, to the red brick castle of the giant Bounderby. CHAPTER V MEN AND MASTERS | No speaker | you'll save me a walk."<|quote|>Stephen, whose way had been in the contrary direction, turned about, and betook himself as in duty bound, to the red brick castle of the giant Bounderby. CHAPTER V MEN AND MASTERS</|quote|>"WELL, Stephen," said Bounderby, in | was sent to fetch you), you'll save me a walk."<|quote|>Stephen, whose way had been in the contrary direction, turned about, and betook himself as in duty bound, to the red brick castle of the giant Bounderby. CHAPTER V MEN AND MASTERS</|quote|>"WELL, Stephen," said Bounderby, in his windy manner, "what's this | don't you?" Stephen said "Yes," again. "Then go straight up there, will you?" said Bitzer. "You're expected, and have only to tell the servant it's you. I belong to the Bank; so, if you go straight up without me (I was sent to fetch you), you'll save me a walk."<|quote|>Stephen, whose way had been in the contrary direc... | and said, "Yes." "You are the Hand they have sent to Coventry, I mean?" said Bitzer, the very light young man in question. Stephen answered "Yes," again. "I supposed so, from their all appearing to keep away from you. Mr. Bounderby wants to speak to you. You know his house, don't you?" Stephen said "Yes," again. "Then ... | and dreaded that Rachael might be even singled out from the rest if she were seen in his company. So, he had been quite alone during the four days, and had spoken to no one, when, as he was leaving his work at night, a young man of a very light complexion accosted him in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" s... | avoided that side of the street on which he habitually walked; and left it, of all the working men, to him only. He had been for many years, a quiet silent man, associating but little with other men, and used to companionship with his own thoughts. He had never known before the strength of the want in his heart for the... | bein outcasten and overlooken fro this time forrard, but hope I shall be let to work. If there is any right for me at aw, my friends, I think 'tis that." Not a word was spoken. Not a sound was audible in the building, but the slight rustle of men moving a little apart, all along the centre of the room, to open a means ... | never finds it, is in cheering society as compared with him who passes ten averted faces daily, that were once the countenances of friends. Such experience was to be Stephen's now, in every waking moment of his life; at his work, on his way to it and from it, at his door, at his window, everywhere. By general consent, ... | Hard Times |
"WELL, Stephen," | Josiah Bounderby | CHAPTER V MEN AND MASTERS<|quote|>"WELL, Stephen,"</|quote|>said Bounderby, in his windy | castle of the giant Bounderby. CHAPTER V MEN AND MASTERS<|quote|>"WELL, Stephen,"</|quote|>said Bounderby, in his windy manner, "what's this I hear? | if you go straight up without me (I was sent to fetch you), you'll save me a walk." Stephen, whose way had been in the contrary direction, turned about, and betook himself as in duty bound, to the red brick castle of the giant Bounderby. CHAPTER V MEN AND MASTERS<|quote|>"WELL, Stephen,"</|quote|>said Bounderby, in his... | all appearing to keep away from you. Mr. Bounderby wants to speak to you. You know his house, don't you?" Stephen said "Yes," again. "Then go straight up there, will you?" said Bitzer. "You're expected, and have only to tell the servant it's you. I belong to the Bank; so, if you go straight up without me (I was sent to... | to no one, when, as he was leaving his work at night, a young man of a very light complexion accosted him in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his hand, in his gratitude for being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a ... | associating but little with other men, and used to companionship with his own thoughts. He had never known before the strength of the want in his heart for the frequent recognition of a nod, a look, a word; or the immense amount of relief that had been poured into it by drops through such small means. It was even harde... | a word was spoken. Not a sound was audible in the building, but the slight rustle of men moving a little apart, all along the centre of the room, to open a means of passing out, to the man with whom they had all bound themselves to renounce companionship. Looking at no one, and going his way with a lowly steadiness upo... | in his company. So, he had been quite alone during the four days, and had spoken to no one, when, as he was leaving his work at night, a young man of a very light complexion accosted him in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his hand, in h... | Hard Times |
said Bounderby, in his windy manner, | No speaker | MEN AND MASTERS "WELL, Stephen,"<|quote|>said Bounderby, in his windy manner,</|quote|>"what's this I hear? What | the giant Bounderby. CHAPTER V MEN AND MASTERS "WELL, Stephen,"<|quote|>said Bounderby, in his windy manner,</|quote|>"what's this I hear? What have these pests of the | go straight up without me (I was sent to fetch you), you'll save me a walk." Stephen, whose way had been in the contrary direction, turned about, and betook himself as in duty bound, to the red brick castle of the giant Bounderby. CHAPTER V MEN AND MASTERS "WELL, Stephen,"<|quote|>said Bounderby, in his windy manner,</... | to keep away from you. Mr. Bounderby wants to speak to you. You know his house, don't you?" Stephen said "Yes," again. "Then go straight up there, will you?" said Bitzer. "You're expected, and have only to tell the servant it's you. I belong to the Bank; so, if you go straight up without me (I was sent to fetch you), y... | one, when, as he was leaving his work at night, a young man of a very light complexion accosted him in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his hand, in his gratitude for being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a feint ... | little with other men, and used to companionship with his own thoughts. He had never known before the strength of the want in his heart for the frequent recognition of a nod, a look, a word; or the immense amount of relief that had been poured into it by drops through such small means. It was even harder than he could ... | was spoken. Not a sound was audible in the building, but the slight rustle of men moving a little apart, all along the centre of the room, to open a means of passing out, to the man with whom they had all bound themselves to renounce companionship. Looking at no one, and going his way with a lowly steadiness upon him t... | avoided every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the factories, he found that some of them with whom he was acquainted were changed to him, and he feared to try others, and dreaded that Rachael might be even singled out from the rest if s... | Hard Times |
"what's this I hear? What have these pests of the earth been doing to _you_? Come in, and speak up." | Josiah Bounderby | Bounderby, in his windy manner,<|quote|>"what's this I hear? What have these pests of the earth been doing to _you_? Come in, and speak up."</|quote|>It was into the drawing-room | AND MASTERS "WELL, Stephen," said Bounderby, in his windy manner,<|quote|>"what's this I hear? What have these pests of the earth been doing to _you_? Come in, and speak up."</|quote|>It was into the drawing-room that he was thus bidden. | was sent to fetch you), you'll save me a walk." Stephen, whose way had been in the contrary direction, turned about, and betook himself as in duty bound, to the red brick castle of the giant Bounderby. CHAPTER V MEN AND MASTERS "WELL, Stephen," said Bounderby, in his windy manner,<|quote|>"what's this I hear? What have... | Bounderby wants to speak to you. You know his house, don't you?" Stephen said "Yes," again. "Then go straight up there, will you?" said Bitzer. "You're expected, and have only to tell the servant it's you. I belong to the Bank; so, if you go straight up without me (I was sent to fetch you), you'll save me a walk." Step... | his work at night, a young man of a very light complexion accosted him in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his hand, in his gratitude for being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a feint of adjusting the lining, and ... | to companionship with his own thoughts. He had never known before the strength of the want in his heart for the frequent recognition of a nod, a look, a word; or the immense amount of relief that had been poured into it by drops through such small means. It was even harder than he could have believed possible, to separ... | audible in the building, but the slight rustle of men moving a little apart, all along the centre of the room, to open a means of passing out, to the man with whom they had all bound themselves to renounce companionship. Looking at no one, and going his way with a lowly steadiness upon him that asserted nothing and sou... | only. He had been for many years, a quiet silent man, associating but little with other men, and used to companionship with his own thoughts. He had never known before the strength of the want in his heart for the frequent recognition of a nod, a look, a word; or the immense amount of relief that had been poured into i... | Hard Times |
It was into the drawing-room that he was thus bidden. A tea-table was set out; and Mr. Bounderby's young wife, and her brother, and a great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door and standing near it, with his hat in his hand. | No speaker | Come in, and speak up."<|quote|>It was into the drawing-room that he was thus bidden. A tea-table was set out; and Mr. Bounderby's young wife, and her brother, and a great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door and standing near it, with his hat in his hand.</|quote|>"... | earth been doing to _you_? Come in, and speak up."<|quote|>It was into the drawing-room that he was thus bidden. A tea-table was set out; and Mr. Bounderby's young wife, and her brother, and a great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door and standing near it, with his ... | about, and betook himself as in duty bound, to the red brick castle of the giant Bounderby. CHAPTER V MEN AND MASTERS "WELL, Stephen," said Bounderby, in his windy manner, "what's this I hear? What have these pests of the earth been doing to _you_? Come in, and speak up."<|quote|>It was into the drawing-room that he wa... | there, will you?" said Bitzer. "You're expected, and have only to tell the servant it's you. I belong to the Bank; so, if you go straight up without me (I was sent to fetch you), you'll save me a walk." Stephen, whose way had been in the contrary direction, turned about, and betook himself as in duty bound, to the red ... | ain't it?" said the young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his hand, in his gratitude for being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a feint of adjusting the lining, and said, "Yes." "You are the Hand they have sent to Coventry, I mean?" said Bitzer, the very light young man in q... | the frequent recognition of a nod, a look, a word; or the immense amount of relief that had been poured into it by drops through such small means. It was even harder than he could have believed possible, to separate in his own conscience his abandonment by all his fellows from a baseless sense of shame and disgrace. Th... | room, to open a means of passing out, to the man with whom they had all bound themselves to renounce companionship. Looking at no one, and going his way with a lowly steadiness upon him that asserted nothing and sought nothing, Old Stephen, with all his troubles on his head, left the scene. Then Slackbridge, who had ke... | is in cheering society as compared with him who passes ten averted faces daily, that were once the countenances of friends. Such experience was to be Stephen's now, in every waking moment of his life; at his work, on his way to it and from it, at his door, at his window, everywhere. By general consent, they even avoide... | Hard Times |
"This is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse," | Josiah Bounderby | his hat in his hand.<|quote|>"This is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse,"</|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman | and standing near it, with his hat in his hand.<|quote|>"This is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse,"</|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking | It was into the drawing-room that he was thus bidden. A tea-table was set out; and Mr. Bounderby's young wife, and her brother, and a great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door and standing near it, with his hat in his hand.<|quote|>"This is the man I was telling you... | about, and betook himself as in duty bound, to the red brick castle of the giant Bounderby. CHAPTER V MEN AND MASTERS "WELL, Stephen," said Bounderby, in his windy manner, "what's this I hear? What have these pests of the earth been doing to _you_? Come in, and speak up." It was into the drawing-room that he was thus b... | to Coventry, I mean?" said Bitzer, the very light young man in question. Stephen answered "Yes," again. "I supposed so, from their all appearing to keep away from you. Mr. Bounderby wants to speak to you. You know his house, don't you?" Stephen said "Yes," again. "Then go straight up there, will you?" said Bitzer. "You... | from a baseless sense of shame and disgrace. The first four days of his endurance were days so long and heavy, that he began to be appalled by the prospect before him. Not only did he see no Rachael all the time, but he avoided every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally ... | left the scene. Then Slackbridge, who had kept his oratorical arm extended during the going out, as if he were repressing with infinite solicitude and by a wonderful moral power the vehement passions of the multitude, applied himself to raising their spirits. Had not the Roman Brutus, oh, my British countrymen, condemn... | his heart for the frequent recognition of a nod, a look, a word; or the immense amount of relief that had been poured into it by drops through such small means. It was even harder than he could have believed possible, to separate in his own conscience his abandonment by all his fellows from a baseless sense of shame an... | Hard Times |
said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa, got up, saying in an indolent way, | No speaker | was telling you about, Harthouse,"<|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa, got up, saying in an indolent way,</|quote|>"Oh really?" and dawdled to | "This is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse,"<|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa, got up, saying in an indolent way,</|quote|>"Oh really?" and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby | A tea-table was set out; and Mr. Bounderby's young wife, and her brother, and a great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door and standing near it, with his hat in his hand. "This is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse,"<|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman ... | red brick castle of the giant Bounderby. CHAPTER V MEN AND MASTERS "WELL, Stephen," said Bounderby, in his windy manner, "what's this I hear? What have these pests of the earth been doing to _you_? Come in, and speak up." It was into the drawing-room that he was thus bidden. A tea-table was set out; and Mr. Bounderby's... | man in question. Stephen answered "Yes," again. "I supposed so, from their all appearing to keep away from you. Mr. Bounderby wants to speak to you. You know his house, don't you?" Stephen said "Yes," again. "Then go straight up there, will you?" said Bitzer. "You're expected, and have only to tell the servant it's you... | four days of his endurance were days so long and heavy, that he began to be appalled by the prospect before him. Not only did he see no Rachael all the time, but he avoided every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the factories, he found ... | arm extended during the going out, as if he were repressing with infinite solicitude and by a wonderful moral power the vehement passions of the multitude, applied himself to raising their spirits. Had not the Roman Brutus, oh, my British countrymen, condemned his son to death; and had not the Spartan mothers, oh my so... | window, everywhere. By general consent, they even avoided that side of the street on which he habitually walked; and left it, of all the working men, to him only. He had been for many years, a quiet silent man, associating but little with other men, and used to companionship with his own thoughts. He had never known be... | Hard Times |
"Oh really?" | Mr. James Harthouse | saying in an indolent way,<|quote|>"Oh really?"</|quote|>and dawdled to the hearthrug | on the sofa, got up, saying in an indolent way,<|quote|>"Oh really?"</|quote|>and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood. "Now," | Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door and standing near it, with his hat in his hand. "This is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa, got up, saying in an indolent way,<|quote|>"Oh really?"</|quote|>and dawdled t... | hear? What have these pests of the earth been doing to _you_? Come in, and speak up." It was into the drawing-room that he was thus bidden. A tea-table was set out; and Mr. Bounderby's young wife, and her brother, and a great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door and ... | speak to you. You know his house, don't you?" Stephen said "Yes," again. "Then go straight up there, will you?" said Bitzer. "You're expected, and have only to tell the servant it's you. I belong to the Bank; so, if you go straight up without me (I was sent to fetch you), you'll save me a walk." Stephen, whose way had ... | only did he see no Rachael all the time, but he avoided every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the factories, he found that some of them with whom he was acquainted were changed to him, and he feared to try others, and dreaded that Rach... | of the multitude, applied himself to raising their spirits. Had not the Roman Brutus, oh, my British countrymen, condemned his son to death; and had not the Spartan mothers, oh my soon to be victorious friends, driven their flying children on the points of their enemies' swords? Then was it not the sacred duty of the m... | might be even singled out from the rest if she were seen in his company. So, he had been quite alone during the four days, and had spoken to no one, when, as he was leaving his work at night, a young man of a very light complexion accosted him in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephe... | Hard Times |
and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood. | No speaker | an indolent way, "Oh really?"<|quote|>and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood.</|quote|>"Now," said Bounderby, "speak up!" | sofa, got up, saying in an indolent way, "Oh really?"<|quote|>and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood.</|quote|>"Now," said Bounderby, "speak up!" After the four days he | his obeisance, closing the door and standing near it, with his hat in his hand. "This is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa, got up, saying in an indolent way, "Oh really?"<|quote|>and dawdled to the hearthrug where ... | have these pests of the earth been doing to _you_? Come in, and speak up." It was into the drawing-room that he was thus bidden. A tea-table was set out; and Mr. Bounderby's young wife, and her brother, and a great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door and standing ne... | you. You know his house, don't you?" Stephen said "Yes," again. "Then go straight up there, will you?" said Bitzer. "You're expected, and have only to tell the servant it's you. I belong to the Bank; so, if you go straight up without me (I was sent to fetch you), you'll save me a walk." Stephen, whose way had been in t... | he see no Rachael all the time, but he avoided every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the factories, he found that some of them with whom he was acquainted were changed to him, and he feared to try others, and dreaded that Rachael might... | multitude, applied himself to raising their spirits. Had not the Roman Brutus, oh, my British countrymen, condemned his son to death; and had not the Spartan mothers, oh my soon to be victorious friends, driven their flying children on the points of their enemies' swords? Then was it not the sacred duty of the men of C... | possible, to separate in his own conscience his abandonment by all his fellows from a baseless sense of shame and disgrace. The first four days of his endurance were days so long and heavy, that he began to be appalled by the prospect before him. Not only did he see no Rachael all the time, but he avoided every chance ... | Hard Times |
"Now," | Josiah Bounderby | hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood.<|quote|>"Now,"</|quote|>said Bounderby, "speak up!" After | really?" and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood.<|quote|>"Now,"</|quote|>said Bounderby, "speak up!" After the four days he had | with his hat in his hand. "This is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa, got up, saying in an indolent way, "Oh really?" and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood.<|quote|>"Now,"</|quote|>said Bounderby, "... | _you_? Come in, and speak up." It was into the drawing-room that he was thus bidden. A tea-table was set out; and Mr. Bounderby's young wife, and her brother, and a great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door and standing near it, with his hat in his hand. "This is th... | "Yes," again. "Then go straight up there, will you?" said Bitzer. "You're expected, and have only to tell the servant it's you. I belong to the Bank; so, if you go straight up without me (I was sent to fetch you), you'll save me a walk." Stephen, whose way had been in the contrary direction, turned about, and betook hi... | avoided every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the factories, he found that some of them with whom he was acquainted were changed to him, and he feared to try others, and dreaded that Rachael might be even singled out from the rest if s... | the Roman Brutus, oh, my British countrymen, condemned his son to death; and had not the Spartan mothers, oh my soon to be victorious friends, driven their flying children on the points of their enemies' swords? Then was it not the sacred duty of the men of Coketown, with forefathers before them, an admiring world in c... | The first four days of his endurance were days so long and heavy, that he began to be appalled by the prospect before him. Not only did he see no Rachael all the time, but he avoided every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the factories,... | Hard Times |
said Bounderby, | No speaker | where Mr. Bounderby stood. "Now,"<|quote|>said Bounderby,</|quote|>"speak up!" After the four | and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood. "Now,"<|quote|>said Bounderby,</|quote|>"speak up!" After the four days he had passed, this | his hat in his hand. "This is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa, got up, saying in an indolent way, "Oh really?" and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood. "Now,"<|quote|>said Bounderby,</|quote|>"speak... | Come in, and speak up." It was into the drawing-room that he was thus bidden. A tea-table was set out; and Mr. Bounderby's young wife, and her brother, and a great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door and standing near it, with his hat in his hand. "This is the man I... | again. "Then go straight up there, will you?" said Bitzer. "You're expected, and have only to tell the servant it's you. I belong to the Bank; so, if you go straight up without me (I was sent to fetch you), you'll save me a walk." Stephen, whose way had been in the contrary direction, turned about, and betook himself a... | every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the factories, he found that some of them with whom he was acquainted were changed to him, and he feared to try others, and dreaded that Rachael might be even singled out from the rest if she were ... | Roman Brutus, oh, my British countrymen, condemned his son to death; and had not the Spartan mothers, oh my soon to be victorious friends, driven their flying children on the points of their enemies' swords? Then was it not the sacred duty of the men of Coketown, with forefathers before them, an admiring world in compa... | his gratitude for being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a feint of adjusting the lining, and said, "Yes." "You are the Hand they have sent to Coventry, I mean?" said Bitzer, the very light young man in question. Stephen answered "Yes," again. "I supposed so, from their all appearing to keep away... | Hard Times |
"speak up!" | Josiah Bounderby | Bounderby stood. "Now," said Bounderby,<|quote|>"speak up!"</|quote|>After the four days he | to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood. "Now," said Bounderby,<|quote|>"speak up!"</|quote|>After the four days he had passed, this address fell | in his hand. "This is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa, got up, saying in an indolent way, "Oh really?" and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood. "Now," said Bounderby,<|quote|>"speak up!"</|quote|>Af... | and speak up." It was into the drawing-room that he was thus bidden. A tea-table was set out; and Mr. Bounderby's young wife, and her brother, and a great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door and standing near it, with his hat in his hand. "This is the man I was tell... | go straight up there, will you?" said Bitzer. "You're expected, and have only to tell the servant it's you. I belong to the Bank; so, if you go straight up without me (I was sent to fetch you), you'll save me a walk." Stephen, whose way had been in the contrary direction, turned about, and betook himself as in duty bou... | of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the factories, he found that some of them with whom he was acquainted were changed to him, and he feared to try others, and dreaded that Rachael might be even singled out from the rest if she were seen in his c... | oh, my British countrymen, condemned his son to death; and had not the Spartan mothers, oh my soon to be victorious friends, driven their flying children on the points of their enemies' swords? Then was it not the sacred duty of the men of Coketown, with forefathers before them, an admiring world in company with them, ... | "You are the Hand they have sent to Coventry, I mean?" said Bitzer, the very light young man in question. Stephen answered "Yes," again. "I supposed so, from their all appearing to keep away from you. Mr. Bounderby wants to speak to you. You know his house, don't you?" Stephen said "Yes," again. "Then go straight up th... | Hard Times |
After the four days he had passed, this address fell rudely and discordantly on Stephen's ear. Besides being a rough handling of his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called. | No speaker | "Now," said Bounderby, "speak up!"<|quote|>After the four days he had passed, this address fell rudely and discordantly on Stephen's ear. Besides being a rough handling of his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called.</|quote|>"What were it, sir," said | hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood. "Now," said Bounderby, "speak up!"<|quote|>After the four days he had passed, this address fell rudely and discordantly on Stephen's ear. Besides being a rough handling of his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called.</|quo... | hand. "This is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa, got up, saying in an indolent way, "Oh really?" and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood. "Now," said Bounderby, "speak up!"<|quote|>After the four day... | up." It was into the drawing-room that he was thus bidden. A tea-table was set out; and Mr. Bounderby's young wife, and her brother, and a great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door and standing near it, with his hat in his hand. "This is the man I was telling you ab... | up there, will you?" said Bitzer. "You're expected, and have only to tell the servant it's you. I belong to the Bank; so, if you go straight up without me (I was sent to fetch you), you'll save me a walk." Stephen, whose way had been in the contrary direction, turned about, and betook himself as in duty bound, to the r... | her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the factories, he found that some of them with whom he was acquainted were changed to him, and he feared to try others, and dreaded that Rachael might be even singled out from the rest if she were seen in his company. So... | British countrymen, condemned his son to death; and had not the Spartan mothers, oh my soon to be victorious friends, driven their flying children on the points of their enemies' swords? Then was it not the sacred duty of the men of Coketown, with forefathers before them, an admiring world in company with them, and a p... | experience was to be Stephen's now, in every waking moment of his life; at his work, on his way to it and from it, at his door, at his window, everywhere. By general consent, they even avoided that side of the street on which he habitually walked; and left it, of all the working men, to him only. He had been for many y... | Hard Times |
"What were it, sir," | Stephen Blackpool | deserter he had been called.<|quote|>"What were it, sir,"</|quote|>said Stephen, "as yo were | he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called.<|quote|>"What were it, sir,"</|quote|>said Stephen, "as yo were pleased to want wi' me?" | hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood. "Now," said Bounderby, "speak up!" After the four days he had passed, this address fell rudely and discordantly on Stephen's ear. Besides being a rough handling of his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called.<|quote|>"What... | door and standing near it, with his hat in his hand. "This is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa, got up, saying in an indolent way, "Oh really?" and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood. "Now," said Bo... | walk." Stephen, whose way had been in the contrary direction, turned about, and betook himself as in duty bound, to the red brick castle of the giant Bounderby. CHAPTER V MEN AND MASTERS "WELL, Stephen," said Bounderby, in his windy manner, "what's this I hear? What have these pests of the earth been doing to _you_? Co... | others, and dreaded that Rachael might be even singled out from the rest if she were seen in his company. So, he had been quite alone during the four days, and had spoken to no one, when, as he was leaving his work at night, a young man of a very light complexion accosted him in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain'... | men of Coketown, with forefathers before them, an admiring world in company with them, and a posterity to come after them, to hurl out traitors from the tents they had pitched in a sacred and a God-like cause? The winds of heaven answered Yes; and bore Yes, east, west, north, and south. And consequently three cheers fo... | of shame and disgrace. The first four days of his endurance were days so long and heavy, that he began to be appalled by the prospect before him. Not only did he see no Rachael all the time, but he avoided every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women wo... | Hard Times |
said Stephen, | No speaker | called. "What were it, sir,"<|quote|>said Stephen,</|quote|>"as yo were pleased to | self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir,"<|quote|>said Stephen,</|quote|>"as yo were pleased to want wi' me?" "Why, I | stood. "Now," said Bounderby, "speak up!" After the four days he had passed, this address fell rudely and discordantly on Stephen's ear. Besides being a rough handling of his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir,"<|quote|>said Stephen,<... | it, with his hat in his hand. "This is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa, got up, saying in an indolent way, "Oh really?" and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood. "Now," said Bounderby, "speak up!" Af... | had been in the contrary direction, turned about, and betook himself as in duty bound, to the red brick castle of the giant Bounderby. CHAPTER V MEN AND MASTERS "WELL, Stephen," said Bounderby, in his windy manner, "what's this I hear? What have these pests of the earth been doing to _you_? Come in, and speak up." It w... | Rachael might be even singled out from the rest if she were seen in his company. So, he had been quite alone during the four days, and had spoken to no one, when, as he was leaving his work at night, a young man of a very light complexion accosted him in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man... | forefathers before them, an admiring world in company with them, and a posterity to come after them, to hurl out traitors from the tents they had pitched in a sacred and a God-like cause? The winds of heaven answered Yes; and bore Yes, east, west, north, and south. And consequently three cheers for the United Aggregate... | he could have believed possible, to separate in his own conscience his abandonment by all his fellows from a baseless sense of shame and disgrace. The first four days of his endurance were days so long and heavy, that he began to be appalled by the prospect before him. Not only did he see no Rachael all the time, but h... | Hard Times |
"as yo were pleased to want wi' me?" | Stephen Blackpool | were it, sir," said Stephen,<|quote|>"as yo were pleased to want wi' me?"</|quote|>"Why, I have told you," | he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen,<|quote|>"as yo were pleased to want wi' me?"</|quote|>"Why, I have told you," returned Bounderby. "Speak up like | said Bounderby, "speak up!" After the four days he had passed, this address fell rudely and discordantly on Stephen's ear. Besides being a rough handling of his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen,<|quote|>"as yo were pl... | his hat in his hand. "This is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa, got up, saying in an indolent way, "Oh really?" and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood. "Now," said Bounderby, "speak up!" After the f... | in the contrary direction, turned about, and betook himself as in duty bound, to the red brick castle of the giant Bounderby. CHAPTER V MEN AND MASTERS "WELL, Stephen," said Bounderby, in his windy manner, "what's this I hear? What have these pests of the earth been doing to _you_? Come in, and speak up." It was into t... | be even singled out from the rest if she were seen in his company. So, he had been quite alone during the four days, and had spoken to no one, when, as he was leaving his work at night, a young man of a very light complexion accosted him in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephen colo... | them, an admiring world in company with them, and a posterity to come after them, to hurl out traitors from the tents they had pitched in a sacred and a God-like cause? The winds of heaven answered Yes; and bore Yes, east, west, north, and south. And consequently three cheers for the United Aggregate Tribunal! Slackbri... | will you?" said Bitzer. "You're expected, and have only to tell the servant it's you. I belong to the Bank; so, if you go straight up without me (I was sent to fetch you), you'll save me a walk." Stephen, whose way had been in the contrary direction, turned about, and betook himself as in duty bound, to the red brick c... | Hard Times |
"Why, I have told you," | Josiah Bounderby | pleased to want wi' me?"<|quote|>"Why, I have told you,"</|quote|>returned Bounderby. "Speak up like | said Stephen, "as yo were pleased to want wi' me?"<|quote|>"Why, I have told you,"</|quote|>returned Bounderby. "Speak up like a man, since you are | he had passed, this address fell rudely and discordantly on Stephen's ear. Besides being a rough handling of his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen, "as yo were pleased to want wi' me?"<|quote|>"Why, I have told you,"</... | man I was telling you about, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa, got up, saying in an indolent way, "Oh really?" and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood. "Now," said Bounderby, "speak up!" After the four days he had passed, this addre... | himself as in duty bound, to the red brick castle of the giant Bounderby. CHAPTER V MEN AND MASTERS "WELL, Stephen," said Bounderby, in his windy manner, "what's this I hear? What have these pests of the earth been doing to _you_? Come in, and speak up." It was into the drawing-room that he was thus bidden. A tea-table... | she were seen in his company. So, he had been quite alone during the four days, and had spoken to no one, when, as he was leaving his work at night, a young man of a very light complexion accosted him in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in ... | and a posterity to come after them, to hurl out traitors from the tents they had pitched in a sacred and a God-like cause? The winds of heaven answered Yes; and bore Yes, east, west, north, and south. And consequently three cheers for the United Aggregate Tribunal! Slackbridge acted as fugleman, and gave the time. The ... | heavy, that he began to be appalled by the prospect before him. Not only did he see no Rachael all the time, but he avoided every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the factories, he found that some of them with whom he was acquainted wer... | Hard Times |
returned Bounderby. | No speaker | "Why, I have told you,"<|quote|>returned Bounderby.</|quote|>"Speak up like a man, | pleased to want wi' me?" "Why, I have told you,"<|quote|>returned Bounderby.</|quote|>"Speak up like a man, since you are a man, | fell rudely and discordantly on Stephen's ear. Besides being a rough handling of his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen, "as yo were pleased to want wi' me?" "Why, I have told you,"<|quote|>returned Bounderby.</|quote|>... | about, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa, got up, saying in an indolent way, "Oh really?" and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood. "Now," said Bounderby, "speak up!" After the four days he had passed, this address fell rudely and dis... | to the red brick castle of the giant Bounderby. CHAPTER V MEN AND MASTERS "WELL, Stephen," said Bounderby, in his windy manner, "what's this I hear? What have these pests of the earth been doing to _you_? Come in, and speak up." It was into the drawing-room that he was thus bidden. A tea-table was set out; and Mr. Boun... | company. So, he had been quite alone during the four days, and had spoken to no one, when, as he was leaving his work at night, a young man of a very light complexion accosted him in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his hand, in his grat... | after them, to hurl out traitors from the tents they had pitched in a sacred and a God-like cause? The winds of heaven answered Yes; and bore Yes, east, west, north, and south. And consequently three cheers for the United Aggregate Tribunal! Slackbridge acted as fugleman, and gave the time. The multitude of doubtful fa... | of shame and disgrace. The first four days of his endurance were days so long and heavy, that he began to be appalled by the prospect before him. Not only did he see no Rachael all the time, but he avoided every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women wo... | Hard Times |
"Speak up like a man, since you are a man, and tell us about yourself and this Combination." | Josiah Bounderby | have told you," returned Bounderby.<|quote|>"Speak up like a man, since you are a man, and tell us about yourself and this Combination."</|quote|>"Wi' yor pardon, sir," said | want wi' me?" "Why, I have told you," returned Bounderby.<|quote|>"Speak up like a man, since you are a man, and tell us about yourself and this Combination."</|quote|>"Wi' yor pardon, sir," said Stephen Blackpool, "I ha' nowt | and discordantly on Stephen's ear. Besides being a rough handling of his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen, "as yo were pleased to want wi' me?" "Why, I have told you," returned Bounderby.<|quote|>"Speak up like a man,... | said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa, got up, saying in an indolent way, "Oh really?" and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood. "Now," said Bounderby, "speak up!" After the four days he had passed, this address fell rudely and discordantly on Stephe... | red brick castle of the giant Bounderby. CHAPTER V MEN AND MASTERS "WELL, Stephen," said Bounderby, in his windy manner, "what's this I hear? What have these pests of the earth been doing to _you_? Come in, and speak up." It was into the drawing-room that he was thus bidden. A tea-table was set out; and Mr. Bounderby's... | he had been quite alone during the four days, and had spoken to no one, when, as he was leaving his work at night, a young man of a very light complexion accosted him in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his hand, in his gratitude for bei... | to hurl out traitors from the tents they had pitched in a sacred and a God-like cause? The winds of heaven answered Yes; and bore Yes, east, west, north, and south. And consequently three cheers for the United Aggregate Tribunal! Slackbridge acted as fugleman, and gave the time. The multitude of doubtful faces (a littl... | made a feint of adjusting the lining, and said, "Yes." "You are the Hand they have sent to Coventry, I mean?" said Bitzer, the very light young man in question. Stephen answered "Yes," again. "I supposed so, from their all appearing to keep away from you. Mr. Bounderby wants to speak to you. You know his house, don't y... | Hard Times |
"Wi' yor pardon, sir," | Stephen Blackpool | about yourself and this Combination."<|quote|>"Wi' yor pardon, sir,"</|quote|>said Stephen Blackpool, "I ha' | a man, and tell us about yourself and this Combination."<|quote|>"Wi' yor pardon, sir,"</|quote|>said Stephen Blackpool, "I ha' nowt to sen about it." | that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen, "as yo were pleased to want wi' me?" "Why, I have told you," returned Bounderby. "Speak up like a man, since you are a man, and tell us about yourself and this Combination."<|quote|>"Wi' yor pardon, sir,"</|quote|>sai... | saying in an indolent way, "Oh really?" and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood. "Now," said Bounderby, "speak up!" After the four days he had passed, this address fell rudely and discordantly on Stephen's ear. Besides being a rough handling of his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the... | windy manner, "what's this I hear? What have these pests of the earth been doing to _you_? Come in, and speak up." It was into the drawing-room that he was thus bidden. A tea-table was set out; and Mr. Bounderby's young wife, and her brother, and a great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obe... | was leaving his work at night, a young man of a very light complexion accosted him in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his hand, in his gratitude for being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a feint of adjusting the ... | winds of heaven answered Yes; and bore Yes, east, west, north, and south. And consequently three cheers for the United Aggregate Tribunal! Slackbridge acted as fugleman, and gave the time. The multitude of doubtful faces (a little conscience-stricken) brightened at the sound, and took it up. Private feeling must yield ... | that he began to be appalled by the prospect before him. Not only did he see no Rachael all the time, but he avoided every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the factories, he found that some of them with whom he was acquainted were chang... | Hard Times |
said Stephen Blackpool, | No speaker | Combination." "Wi' yor pardon, sir,"<|quote|>said Stephen Blackpool,</|quote|>"I ha' nowt to sen | us about yourself and this Combination." "Wi' yor pardon, sir,"<|quote|>said Stephen Blackpool,</|quote|>"I ha' nowt to sen about it." Mr. Bounderby, who | the self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen, "as yo were pleased to want wi' me?" "Why, I have told you," returned Bounderby. "Speak up like a man, since you are a man, and tell us about yourself and this Combination." "Wi' yor pardon, sir,"<|quote|>said Stephen Blackpool,</|quote... | way, "Oh really?" and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood. "Now," said Bounderby, "speak up!" After the four days he had passed, this address fell rudely and discordantly on Stephen's ear. Besides being a rough handling of his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deser... | I hear? What have these pests of the earth been doing to _you_? Come in, and speak up." It was into the drawing-room that he was thus bidden. A tea-table was set out; and Mr. Bounderby's young wife, and her brother, and a great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door an... | at night, a young man of a very light complexion accosted him in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his hand, in his gratitude for being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a feint of adjusting the lining, and said, "Ye... | Yes; and bore Yes, east, west, north, and south. And consequently three cheers for the United Aggregate Tribunal! Slackbridge acted as fugleman, and gave the time. The multitude of doubtful faces (a little conscience-stricken) brightened at the sound, and took it up. Private feeling must yield to the common cause. Hurr... | might be even singled out from the rest if she were seen in his company. So, he had been quite alone during the four days, and had spoken to no one, when, as he was leaving his work at night, a young man of a very light complexion accosted him in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephe... | Hard Times |
"I ha' nowt to sen about it." | Stephen Blackpool | pardon, sir," said Stephen Blackpool,<|quote|>"I ha' nowt to sen about it."</|quote|>Mr. Bounderby, who was always | and this Combination." "Wi' yor pardon, sir," said Stephen Blackpool,<|quote|>"I ha' nowt to sen about it."</|quote|>Mr. Bounderby, who was always more or less like a | he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen, "as yo were pleased to want wi' me?" "Why, I have told you," returned Bounderby. "Speak up like a man, since you are a man, and tell us about yourself and this Combination." "Wi' yor pardon, sir," said Stephen Blackpool,<|quote|>"I ha' nowt to sen about it."</|quot... | and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood. "Now," said Bounderby, "speak up!" After the four days he had passed, this address fell rudely and discordantly on Stephen's ear. Besides being a rough handling of his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been ca... | have these pests of the earth been doing to _you_? Come in, and speak up." It was into the drawing-room that he was thus bidden. A tea-table was set out; and Mr. Bounderby's young wife, and her brother, and a great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door and standing ne... | young man of a very light complexion accosted him in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his hand, in his gratitude for being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a feint of adjusting the lining, and said, "Yes." "You are... | Yes, east, west, north, and south. And consequently three cheers for the United Aggregate Tribunal! Slackbridge acted as fugleman, and gave the time. The multitude of doubtful faces (a little conscience-stricken) brightened at the sound, and took it up. Private feeling must yield to the common cause. Hurrah! The roof y... | and betook himself as in duty bound, to the red brick castle of the giant Bounderby. CHAPTER V MEN AND MASTERS "WELL, Stephen," said Bounderby, in his windy manner, "what's this I hear? What have these pests of the earth been doing to _you_? Come in, and speak up." It was into the drawing-room that he was thus bidden. ... | Hard Times |
Mr. Bounderby, who was always more or less like a Wind, finding something in his way here, began to blow at it directly. | No speaker | nowt to sen about it."<|quote|>Mr. Bounderby, who was always more or less like a Wind, finding something in his way here, began to blow at it directly.</|quote|>"Now, look here, Harthouse," said | said Stephen Blackpool, "I ha' nowt to sen about it."<|quote|>Mr. Bounderby, who was always more or less like a Wind, finding something in his way here, began to blow at it directly.</|quote|>"Now, look here, Harthouse," said he, "here's a specimen of | sir," said Stephen, "as yo were pleased to want wi' me?" "Why, I have told you," returned Bounderby. "Speak up like a man, since you are a man, and tell us about yourself and this Combination." "Wi' yor pardon, sir," said Stephen Blackpool, "I ha' nowt to sen about it."<|quote|>Mr. Bounderby, who was always more or les... | Bounderby stood. "Now," said Bounderby, "speak up!" After the four days he had passed, this address fell rudely and discordantly on Stephen's ear. Besides being a rough handling of his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen... | doing to _you_? Come in, and speak up." It was into the drawing-room that he was thus bidden. A tea-table was set out; and Mr. Bounderby's young wife, and her brother, and a great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door and standing near it, with his hat in his hand. "T... | accosted him in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his hand, in his gratitude for being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a feint of adjusting the lining, and said, "Yes." "You are the Hand they have sent to Coventry,... | consequently three cheers for the United Aggregate Tribunal! Slackbridge acted as fugleman, and gave the time. The multitude of doubtful faces (a little conscience-stricken) brightened at the sound, and took it up. Private feeling must yield to the common cause. Hurrah! The roof yet vibrated with the cheering, when the... | these pests of the earth been doing to _you_? Come in, and speak up." It was into the drawing-room that he was thus bidden. A tea-table was set out; and Mr. Bounderby's young wife, and her brother, and a great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door and standing near it... | Hard Times |
"Now, look here, Harthouse," | Josiah Bounderby | to blow at it directly.<|quote|>"Now, look here, Harthouse,"</|quote|>said he, "here's a specimen | in his way here, began to blow at it directly.<|quote|>"Now, look here, Harthouse,"</|quote|>said he, "here's a specimen of 'em. When this man | since you are a man, and tell us about yourself and this Combination." "Wi' yor pardon, sir," said Stephen Blackpool, "I ha' nowt to sen about it." Mr. Bounderby, who was always more or less like a Wind, finding something in his way here, began to blow at it directly.<|quote|>"Now, look here, Harthouse,"</|quote|>said ... | Besides being a rough handling of his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen, "as yo were pleased to want wi' me?" "Why, I have told you," returned Bounderby. "Speak up like a man, since you are a man, and tell us about you... | and Mr. Bounderby's young wife, and her brother, and a great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door and standing near it, with his hat in his hand. "This is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to ... | his hand, in his gratitude for being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a feint of adjusting the lining, and said, "Yes." "You are the Hand they have sent to Coventry, I mean?" said Bitzer, the very light young man in question. Stephen answered "Yes," again. "I supposed so, from their all appearing... | conscience-stricken) brightened at the sound, and took it up. Private feeling must yield to the common cause. Hurrah! The roof yet vibrated with the cheering, when the assembly dispersed. Thus easily did Stephen Blackpool fall into the loneliest of lives, the life of solitude among a familiar crowd. The stranger in the... | four days of his endurance were days so long and heavy, that he began to be appalled by the prospect before him. Not only did he see no Rachael all the time, but he avoided every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the factories, he found ... | Hard Times |
said he, | No speaker | directly. "Now, look here, Harthouse,"<|quote|>said he,</|quote|>"here's a specimen of 'em. | began to blow at it directly. "Now, look here, Harthouse,"<|quote|>said he,</|quote|>"here's a specimen of 'em. When this man was here | man, and tell us about yourself and this Combination." "Wi' yor pardon, sir," said Stephen Blackpool, "I ha' nowt to sen about it." Mr. Bounderby, who was always more or less like a Wind, finding something in his way here, began to blow at it directly. "Now, look here, Harthouse,"<|quote|>said he,</|quote|>"here's a sp... | handling of his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen, "as yo were pleased to want wi' me?" "Why, I have told you," returned Bounderby. "Speak up like a man, since you are a man, and tell us about yourself and this Combina... | wife, and her brother, and a great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door and standing near it, with his hat in his hand. "This is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa... | gratitude for being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a feint of adjusting the lining, and said, "Yes." "You are the Hand they have sent to Coventry, I mean?" said Bitzer, the very light young man in question. Stephen answered "Yes," again. "I supposed so, from their all appearing to keep away fro... | sound, and took it up. Private feeling must yield to the common cause. Hurrah! The roof yet vibrated with the cheering, when the assembly dispersed. Thus easily did Stephen Blackpool fall into the loneliest of lives, the life of solitude among a familiar crowd. The stranger in the land who looks into ten thousand faces... | be appalled by the prospect before him. Not only did he see no Rachael all the time, but he avoided every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the factories, he found that some of them with whom he was acquainted were changed to him, and he... | Hard Times |
"here's a specimen of 'em. When this man was here once before, I warned this man against the mischievous strangers who are always about and who ought to be hanged wherever they are found and I told this man that he was going in the wrong direction. Now, would you believe it, that although they have put this mark upon h... | Josiah Bounderby | look here, Harthouse," said he,<|quote|>"here's a specimen of 'em. When this man was here once before, I warned this man against the mischievous strangers who are always about and who ought to be hanged wherever they are found and I told this man that he was going in the wrong direction. Now, would you believe it, that... | blow at it directly. "Now, look here, Harthouse," said he,<|quote|>"here's a specimen of 'em. When this man was here once before, I warned this man against the mischievous strangers who are always about and who ought to be hanged wherever they are found and I told this man that he was going in the wrong direction. Now,... | tell us about yourself and this Combination." "Wi' yor pardon, sir," said Stephen Blackpool, "I ha' nowt to sen about it." Mr. Bounderby, who was always more or less like a Wind, finding something in his way here, began to blow at it directly. "Now, look here, Harthouse," said he,<|quote|>"here's a specimen of 'em. Whe... | his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen, "as yo were pleased to want wi' me?" "Why, I have told you," returned Bounderby. "Speak up like a man, since you are a man, and tell us about yourself and this Combination." "Wi' ... | her brother, and a great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door and standing near it, with his hat in his hand. "This is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa, got up, ... | being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a feint of adjusting the lining, and said, "Yes." "You are the Hand they have sent to Coventry, I mean?" said Bitzer, the very light young man in question. Stephen answered "Yes," again. "I supposed so, from their all appearing to keep away from you. Mr. Bou... | took it up. Private feeling must yield to the common cause. Hurrah! The roof yet vibrated with the cheering, when the assembly dispersed. Thus easily did Stephen Blackpool fall into the loneliest of lives, the life of solitude among a familiar crowd. The stranger in the land who looks into ten thousand faces for some a... | a young man of a very light complexion accosted him in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his hand, in his gratitude for being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a feint of adjusting the lining, and said, "Yes." "You a... | Hard Times |
"I sed as I had nowt to sen, sir; not as I was fearfo' o' openin' my lips." | Stephen Blackpool | open his lips about them?"<|quote|>"I sed as I had nowt to sen, sir; not as I was fearfo' o' openin' my lips."</|quote|>"You said! Ah! _I_ know | still, that he's afraid to open his lips about them?"<|quote|>"I sed as I had nowt to sen, sir; not as I was fearfo' o' openin' my lips."</|quote|>"You said! Ah! _I_ know what you said; more than | be hanged wherever they are found and I told this man that he was going in the wrong direction. Now, would you believe it, that although they have put this mark upon him, he is such a slave to them still, that he's afraid to open his lips about them?"<|quote|>"I sed as I had nowt to sen, sir; not as I was fearfo' o' op... | less like a Wind, finding something in his way here, began to blow at it directly. "Now, look here, Harthouse," said he, "here's a specimen of 'em. When this man was here once before, I warned this man against the mischievous strangers who are always about and who ought to be hanged wherever they are found and I told t... | After the four days he had passed, this address fell rudely and discordantly on Stephen's ear. Besides being a rough handling of his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen, "as yo were pleased to want wi' me?" "Why, I have ... | up there, will you?" said Bitzer. "You're expected, and have only to tell the servant it's you. I belong to the Bank; so, if you go straight up without me (I was sent to fetch you), you'll save me a walk." Stephen, whose way had been in the contrary direction, turned about, and betook himself as in duty bound, to the r... | the countenances of friends. Such experience was to be Stephen's now, in every waking moment of his life; at his work, on his way to it and from it, at his door, at his window, everywhere. By general consent, they even avoided that side of the street on which he habitually walked; and left it, of all the working men, t... | The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa, got up, saying in an indolent way, "Oh really?" and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood. "Now," said Bounderby, "speak up!" After the four days he had passed, this address fell rudely and discordantly on Stephen's ear. Besides bei... | Hard Times |
"You said! Ah! _I_ know what you said; more than that, I know what you mean, you see. Not always the same thing, by the Lord Harry! Quite different things. You had better tell us at once, that that fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and that he is not a regular qualified leader of ... | Josiah Bounderby | fearfo' o' openin' my lips."<|quote|>"You said! Ah! _I_ know what you said; more than that, I know what you mean, you see. Not always the same thing, by the Lord Harry! Quite different things. You had better tell us at once, that that fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and that he ... | sir; not as I was fearfo' o' openin' my lips."<|quote|>"You said! Ah! _I_ know what you said; more than that, I know what you mean, you see. Not always the same thing, by the Lord Harry! Quite different things. You had better tell us at once, that that fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mu... | direction. Now, would you believe it, that although they have put this mark upon him, he is such a slave to them still, that he's afraid to open his lips about them?" "I sed as I had nowt to sen, sir; not as I was fearfo' o' openin' my lips."<|quote|>"You said! Ah! _I_ know what you said; more than that, I know what yo... | here, Harthouse," said he, "here's a specimen of 'em. When this man was here once before, I warned this man against the mischievous strangers who are always about and who ought to be hanged wherever they are found and I told this man that he was going in the wrong direction. Now, would you believe it, that although the... | a rough handling of his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen, "as yo were pleased to want wi' me?" "Why, I have told you," returned Bounderby. "Speak up like a man, since you are a man, and tell us about yourself and this... | belong to the Bank; so, if you go straight up without me (I was sent to fetch you), you'll save me a walk." Stephen, whose way had been in the contrary direction, turned about, and betook himself as in duty bound, to the red brick castle of the giant Bounderby. CHAPTER V MEN AND MASTERS "WELL, Stephen," said Bounderby,... | at his work, on his way to it and from it, at his door, at his window, everywhere. By general consent, they even avoided that side of the street on which he habitually walked; and left it, of all the working men, to him only. He had been for many years, a quiet silent man, associating but little with other men, and use... | changed to him, and he feared to try others, and dreaded that Rachael might be even singled out from the rest if she were seen in his company. So, he had been quite alone during the four days, and had spoken to no one, when, as he was leaving his work at night, a young man of a very light complexion accosted him in the... | Hard Times |
"I'm as sooary as yo, sir, when the people's leaders is bad," | Stephen Blackpool | us so. Why don't you?"<|quote|>"I'm as sooary as yo, sir, when the people's leaders is bad,"</|quote|>said Stephen, shaking his head. | me. You want to tell us so. Why don't you?"<|quote|>"I'm as sooary as yo, sir, when the people's leaders is bad,"</|quote|>said Stephen, shaking his head. "They taks such as offers. | is not in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and that he is not a regular qualified leader of the people: that is, a most confounded scoundrel. You had better tell us so at once; you can't deceive me. You want to tell us so. Why don't you?"<|quote|>"I'm as sooary as yo, sir, when the people's leaders is bad,"<... | not as I was fearfo' o' openin' my lips." "You said! Ah! _I_ know what you said; more than that, I know what you mean, you see. Not always the same thing, by the Lord Harry! Quite different things. You had better tell us at once, that that fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and tha... | here, began to blow at it directly. "Now, look here, Harthouse," said he, "here's a specimen of 'em. When this man was here once before, I warned this man against the mischievous strangers who are always about and who ought to be hanged wherever they are found and I told this man that he was going in the wrong directio... | thus bidden. A tea-table was set out; and Mr. Bounderby's young wife, and her brother, and a great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door and standing near it, with his hat in his hand. "This is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. The gentl... | a word; or the immense amount of relief that had been poured into it by drops through such small means. It was even harder than he could have believed possible, to separate in his own conscience his abandonment by all his fellows from a baseless sense of shame and disgrace. The first four days of his endurance were day... | address fell rudely and discordantly on Stephen's ear. Besides being a rough handling of his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen, "as yo were pleased to want wi' me?" "Why, I have told you," returned Bounderby. "Speak up... | Hard Times |
said Stephen, shaking his head. | No speaker | the people's leaders is bad,"<|quote|>said Stephen, shaking his head.</|quote|>"They taks such as offers. | sooary as yo, sir, when the people's leaders is bad,"<|quote|>said Stephen, shaking his head.</|quote|>"They taks such as offers. Haply 'tis na' the sma'est | that he is not a regular qualified leader of the people: that is, a most confounded scoundrel. You had better tell us so at once; you can't deceive me. You want to tell us so. Why don't you?" "I'm as sooary as yo, sir, when the people's leaders is bad,"<|quote|>said Stephen, shaking his head.</|quote|>"They taks such a... | _I_ know what you said; more than that, I know what you mean, you see. Not always the same thing, by the Lord Harry! Quite different things. You had better tell us at once, that that fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and that he is not a regular qualified leader of the people: tha... | he, "here's a specimen of 'em. When this man was here once before, I warned this man against the mischievous strangers who are always about and who ought to be hanged wherever they are found and I told this man that he was going in the wrong direction. Now, would you believe it, that although they have put this mark up... | and her brother, and a great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door and standing near it, with his hat in his hand. "This is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa, got ... | into it by drops through such small means. It was even harder than he could have believed possible, to separate in his own conscience his abandonment by all his fellows from a baseless sense of shame and disgrace. The first four days of his endurance were days so long and heavy, that he began to be appalled by the pros... | wife, and her brother, and a great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door and standing near it, with his hat in his hand. "This is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa... | Hard Times |
"They taks such as offers. Haply 'tis na' the sma'est o' their misfortuns when they can get no better." | Stephen Blackpool | said Stephen, shaking his head.<|quote|>"They taks such as offers. Haply 'tis na' the sma'est o' their misfortuns when they can get no better."</|quote|>The wind began to get | the people's leaders is bad," said Stephen, shaking his head.<|quote|>"They taks such as offers. Haply 'tis na' the sma'est o' their misfortuns when they can get no better."</|quote|>The wind began to get boisterous. "Now, you'll think this | regular qualified leader of the people: that is, a most confounded scoundrel. You had better tell us so at once; you can't deceive me. You want to tell us so. Why don't you?" "I'm as sooary as yo, sir, when the people's leaders is bad," said Stephen, shaking his head.<|quote|>"They taks such as offers. Haply 'tis na' t... | more than that, I know what you mean, you see. Not always the same thing, by the Lord Harry! Quite different things. You had better tell us at once, that that fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and that he is not a regular qualified leader of the people: that is, a most confounded ... | 'em. When this man was here once before, I warned this man against the mischievous strangers who are always about and who ought to be hanged wherever they are found and I told this man that he was going in the wrong direction. Now, would you believe it, that although they have put this mark upon him, he is such a slave... | great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door and standing near it, with his hat in his hand. "This is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa, got up, saying in an indole... | such small means. It was even harder than he could have believed possible, to separate in his own conscience his abandonment by all his fellows from a baseless sense of shame and disgrace. The first four days of his endurance were days so long and heavy, that he began to be appalled by the prospect before him. Not only... | made a feint of adjusting the lining, and said, "Yes." "You are the Hand they have sent to Coventry, I mean?" said Bitzer, the very light young man in question. Stephen answered "Yes," again. "I supposed so, from their all appearing to keep away from you. Mr. Bounderby wants to speak to you. You know his house, don't y... | Hard Times |
The wind began to get boisterous. | No speaker | they can get no better."<|quote|>The wind began to get boisterous.</|quote|>"Now, you'll think this pretty | sma'est o' their misfortuns when they can get no better."<|quote|>The wind began to get boisterous.</|quote|>"Now, you'll think this pretty well, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. | once; you can't deceive me. You want to tell us so. Why don't you?" "I'm as sooary as yo, sir, when the people's leaders is bad," said Stephen, shaking his head. "They taks such as offers. Haply 'tis na' the sma'est o' their misfortuns when they can get no better."<|quote|>The wind began to get boisterous.</|quote|>"No... | Quite different things. You had better tell us at once, that that fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and that he is not a regular qualified leader of the people: that is, a most confounded scoundrel. You had better tell us so at once; you can't deceive me. You want to tell us so. W... | about and who ought to be hanged wherever they are found and I told this man that he was going in the wrong direction. Now, would you believe it, that although they have put this mark upon him, he is such a slave to them still, that he's afraid to open his lips about them?" "I sed as I had nowt to sen, sir; not as I wa... | with his hat in his hand. "This is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa, got up, saying in an indolent way, "Oh really?" and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood. "Now," said Bounderby, "speak up!" After ... | his abandonment by all his fellows from a baseless sense of shame and disgrace. The first four days of his endurance were days so long and heavy, that he began to be appalled by the prospect before him. Not only did he see no Rachael all the time, but he avoided every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that th... | MASTERS "WELL, Stephen," said Bounderby, in his windy manner, "what's this I hear? What have these pests of the earth been doing to _you_? Come in, and speak up." It was into the drawing-room that he was thus bidden. A tea-table was set out; and Mr. Bounderby's young wife, and her brother, and a great gentleman from Lo... | Hard Times |
"Now, you'll think this pretty well, Harthouse," | Josiah Bounderby | wind began to get boisterous.<|quote|>"Now, you'll think this pretty well, Harthouse,"</|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby. "You'll think | can get no better." The wind began to get boisterous.<|quote|>"Now, you'll think this pretty well, Harthouse,"</|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby. "You'll think this tolerably strong. You'll say, | want to tell us so. Why don't you?" "I'm as sooary as yo, sir, when the people's leaders is bad," said Stephen, shaking his head. "They taks such as offers. Haply 'tis na' the sma'est o' their misfortuns when they can get no better." The wind began to get boisterous.<|quote|>"Now, you'll think this pretty well, Harthou... | tell us at once, that that fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and that he is not a regular qualified leader of the people: that is, a most confounded scoundrel. You had better tell us so at once; you can't deceive me. You want to tell us so. Why don't you?" "I'm as sooary as yo, si... | hanged wherever they are found and I told this man that he was going in the wrong direction. Now, would you believe it, that although they have put this mark upon him, he is such a slave to them still, that he's afraid to open his lips about them?" "I sed as I had nowt to sen, sir; not as I was fearfo' o' openin' my li... | "This is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa, got up, saying in an indolent way, "Oh really?" and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood. "Now," said Bounderby, "speak up!" After the four days he had passe... | from a baseless sense of shame and disgrace. The first four days of his endurance were days so long and heavy, that he began to be appalled by the prospect before him. Not only did he see no Rachael all the time, but he avoided every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally ... | MEN AND MASTERS "WELL, Stephen," said Bounderby, in his windy manner, "what's this I hear? What have these pests of the earth been doing to _you_? Come in, and speak up." It was into the drawing-room that he was thus bidden. A tea-table was set out; and Mr. Bounderby's young wife, and her brother, and a great gentleman... | Hard Times |
said Mr. Bounderby. | No speaker | think this pretty well, Harthouse,"<|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby.</|quote|>"You'll think this tolerably strong. | to get boisterous. "Now, you'll think this pretty well, Harthouse,"<|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby.</|quote|>"You'll think this tolerably strong. You'll say, upon my soul | you?" "I'm as sooary as yo, sir, when the people's leaders is bad," said Stephen, shaking his head. "They taks such as offers. Haply 'tis na' the sma'est o' their misfortuns when they can get no better." The wind began to get boisterous. "Now, you'll think this pretty well, Harthouse,"<|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby.</|quo... | Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and that he is not a regular qualified leader of the people: that is, a most confounded scoundrel. You had better tell us so at once; you can't deceive me. You want to tell us so. Why don't you?" "I'm as sooary as yo, sir, when the people's leaders is ba... | told this man that he was going in the wrong direction. Now, would you believe it, that although they have put this mark upon him, he is such a slave to them still, that he's afraid to open his lips about them?" "I sed as I had nowt to sen, sir; not as I was fearfo' o' openin' my lips." "You said! Ah! _I_ know what you... | you about, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa, got up, saying in an indolent way, "Oh really?" and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood. "Now," said Bounderby, "speak up!" After the four days he had passed, this address fell rudely and... | disgrace. The first four days of his endurance were days so long and heavy, that he began to be appalled by the prospect before him. Not only did he see no Rachael all the time, but he avoided every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the ... | he had passed, this address fell rudely and discordantly on Stephen's ear. Besides being a rough handling of his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen, "as yo were pleased to want wi' me?" "Why, I have told you," returned ... | Hard Times |
"You'll think this tolerably strong. You'll say, upon my soul this is a tidy specimen of what my friends have to deal with; but this is nothing, sir! You shall hear me ask this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool" | Josiah Bounderby | well, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby.<|quote|>"You'll think this tolerably strong. You'll say, upon my soul this is a tidy specimen of what my friends have to deal with; but this is nothing, sir! You shall hear me ask this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool"</|quote|>wind springing up very fast | "Now, you'll think this pretty well, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby.<|quote|>"You'll think this tolerably strong. You'll say, upon my soul this is a tidy specimen of what my friends have to deal with; but this is nothing, sir! You shall hear me ask this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool"</|quote|>wind springing up ve... | sooary as yo, sir, when the people's leaders is bad," said Stephen, shaking his head. "They taks such as offers. Haply 'tis na' the sma'est o' their misfortuns when they can get no better." The wind began to get boisterous. "Now, you'll think this pretty well, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby.<|quote|>"You'll think this ... | in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and that he is not a regular qualified leader of the people: that is, a most confounded scoundrel. You had better tell us so at once; you can't deceive me. You want to tell us so. Why don't you?" "I'm as sooary as yo, sir, when the people's leaders is bad," said Stephen, s... | that he was going in the wrong direction. Now, would you believe it, that although they have put this mark upon him, he is such a slave to them still, that he's afraid to open his lips about them?" "I sed as I had nowt to sen, sir; not as I was fearfo' o' openin' my lips." "You said! Ah! _I_ know what you said; more th... | said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa, got up, saying in an indolent way, "Oh really?" and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood. "Now," said Bounderby, "speak up!" After the four days he had passed, this address fell rudely and discordantly on Stephe... | four days of his endurance were days so long and heavy, that he began to be appalled by the prospect before him. Not only did he see no Rachael all the time, but he avoided every chance of seeing her; for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the factories, he found ... | ought to be hanged wherever they are found and I told this man that he was going in the wrong direction. Now, would you believe it, that although they have put this mark upon him, he is such a slave to them still, that he's afraid to open his lips about them?" "I sed as I had nowt to sen, sir; not as I was fearfo' o' o... | Hard Times |
wind springing up very fast | No speaker | a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool"<|quote|>wind springing up very fast</|quote|>"may I take the liberty | hear me ask this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool"<|quote|>wind springing up very fast</|quote|>"may I take the liberty of asking you how it | "Now, you'll think this pretty well, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. "You'll think this tolerably strong. You'll say, upon my soul this is a tidy specimen of what my friends have to deal with; but this is nothing, sir! You shall hear me ask this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool"<|quote|>wind springing up very fast</... | want to tell us so. Why don't you?" "I'm as sooary as yo, sir, when the people's leaders is bad," said Stephen, shaking his head. "They taks such as offers. Haply 'tis na' the sma'est o' their misfortuns when they can get no better." The wind began to get boisterous. "Now, you'll think this pretty well, Harthouse," sai... | sed as I had nowt to sen, sir; not as I was fearfo' o' openin' my lips." "You said! Ah! _I_ know what you said; more than that, I know what you mean, you see. Not always the same thing, by the Lord Harry! Quite different things. You had better tell us at once, that that fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring u... | the four days he had passed, this address fell rudely and discordantly on Stephen's ear. Besides being a rough handling of his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen, "as yo were pleased to want wi' me?" "Why, I have told y... | for, although he knew that the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the factories, he found that some of them with whom he was acquainted were changed to him, and he feared to try others, and dreaded that Rachael might be even singled out from the rest if she were seen in his company. So, he ... | tell us about yourself and this Combination." "Wi' yor pardon, sir," said Stephen Blackpool, "I ha' nowt to sen about it." Mr. Bounderby, who was always more or less like a Wind, finding something in his way here, began to blow at it directly. "Now, look here, Harthouse," said he, "here's a specimen of 'em. When this m... | Hard Times |
"may I take the liberty of asking you how it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?" | Josiah Bounderby | wind springing up very fast<|quote|>"may I take the liberty of asking you how it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?"</|quote|>"How 't happens?" "Ah!" said | a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool" wind springing up very fast<|quote|>"may I take the liberty of asking you how it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?"</|quote|>"How 't happens?" "Ah!" said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs | well, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. "You'll think this tolerably strong. You'll say, upon my soul this is a tidy specimen of what my friends have to deal with; but this is nothing, sir! You shall hear me ask this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool" wind springing up very fast<|quote|>"may I take the liberty of askin... | Why don't you?" "I'm as sooary as yo, sir, when the people's leaders is bad," said Stephen, shaking his head. "They taks such as offers. Haply 'tis na' the sma'est o' their misfortuns when they can get no better." The wind began to get boisterous. "Now, you'll think this pretty well, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. "Yo... | to sen, sir; not as I was fearfo' o' openin' my lips." "You said! Ah! _I_ know what you said; more than that, I know what you mean, you see. Not always the same thing, by the Lord Harry! Quite different things. You had better tell us at once, that that fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mu... | passed, this address fell rudely and discordantly on Stephen's ear. Besides being a rough handling of his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen, "as yo were pleased to want wi' me?" "Why, I have told you," returned Bounder... | the prohibition did not yet formally extend to the women working in the factories, he found that some of them with whom he was acquainted were changed to him, and he feared to try others, and dreaded that Rachael might be even singled out from the rest if she were seen in his company. So, he had been quite alone during... | into the drawing-room that he was thus bidden. A tea-table was set out; and Mr. Bounderby's young wife, and her brother, and a great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door and standing near it, with his hat in his hand. "This is the man I was telling you about, Harthou... | Hard Times |
"How 't happens?" | Stephen Blackpool | to be in this Combination?"<|quote|>"How 't happens?"</|quote|>"Ah!" said Mr. Bounderby, with | it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?"<|quote|>"How 't happens?"</|quote|>"Ah!" said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms | specimen of what my friends have to deal with; but this is nothing, sir! You shall hear me ask this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool" wind springing up very fast "may I take the liberty of asking you how it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?"<|quote|>"How 't happens?"</|quote|>"Ah!" said Mr. Bounder... | head. "They taks such as offers. Haply 'tis na' the sma'est o' their misfortuns when they can get no better." The wind began to get boisterous. "Now, you'll think this pretty well, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. "You'll think this tolerably strong. You'll say, upon my soul this is a tidy specimen of what my friends ha... | said; more than that, I know what you mean, you see. Not always the same thing, by the Lord Harry! Quite different things. You had better tell us at once, that that fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and that he is not a regular qualified leader of the people: that is, a most confo... | it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen, "as yo were pleased to want wi' me?" "Why, I have told you," returned Bounderby. "Speak up like a man, since you are a man, and tell us about yourself and this Combination." "Wi' yor pardon, sir," ... | them with whom he was acquainted were changed to him, and he feared to try others, and dreaded that Rachael might be even singled out from the rest if she were seen in his company. So, he had been quite alone during the four days, and had spoken to no one, when, as he was leaving his work at night, a young man of a ver... | this man was here once before, I warned this man against the mischievous strangers who are always about and who ought to be hanged wherever they are found and I told this man that he was going in the wrong direction. Now, would you believe it, that although they have put this mark upon him, he is such a slave to them s... | Hard Times |
"Ah!" | Josiah Bounderby | this Combination?" "How 't happens?"<|quote|>"Ah!"</|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby, with his | you refused to be in this Combination?" "How 't happens?"<|quote|>"Ah!"</|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms of | my friends have to deal with; but this is nothing, sir! You shall hear me ask this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool" wind springing up very fast "may I take the liberty of asking you how it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?" "How 't happens?"<|quote|>"Ah!"</|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby, with his thum... | such as offers. Haply 'tis na' the sma'est o' their misfortuns when they can get no better." The wind began to get boisterous. "Now, you'll think this pretty well, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. "You'll think this tolerably strong. You'll say, upon my soul this is a tidy specimen of what my friends have to deal with; ... | that, I know what you mean, you see. Not always the same thing, by the Lord Harry! Quite different things. You had better tell us at once, that that fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and that he is not a regular qualified leader of the people: that is, a most confounded scoundrel.... | assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen, "as yo were pleased to want wi' me?" "Why, I have told you," returned Bounderby. "Speak up like a man, since you are a man, and tell us about yourself and this Combination." "Wi' yor pardon, sir," said Stephen ... | he was acquainted were changed to him, and he feared to try others, and dreaded that Rachael might be even singled out from the rest if she were seen in his company. So, he had been quite alone during the four days, and had spoken to no one, when, as he was leaving his work at night, a young man of a very light complex... | and discordantly on Stephen's ear. Besides being a rough handling of his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen, "as yo were pleased to want wi' me?" "Why, I have told you," returned Bounderby. "Speak up like a man, since y... | Hard Times |
said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms of his coat, and jerking his head and shutting his eyes in confidence with the opposite wall: | No speaker | Combination?" "How 't happens?" "Ah!"<|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms of his coat, and jerking his head and shutting his eyes in confidence with the opposite wall:</|quote|>"how it happens." "I'd leefer | refused to be in this Combination?" "How 't happens?" "Ah!"<|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms of his coat, and jerking his head and shutting his eyes in confidence with the opposite wall:</|quote|>"how it happens." "I'd leefer not coom to 't, sir; | friends have to deal with; but this is nothing, sir! You shall hear me ask this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool" wind springing up very fast "may I take the liberty of asking you how it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?" "How 't happens?" "Ah!"<|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the ar... | as offers. Haply 'tis na' the sma'est o' their misfortuns when they can get no better." The wind began to get boisterous. "Now, you'll think this pretty well, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. "You'll think this tolerably strong. You'll say, upon my soul this is a tidy specimen of what my friends have to deal with; but t... | I know what you mean, you see. Not always the same thing, by the Lord Harry! Quite different things. You had better tell us at once, that that fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and that he is not a regular qualified leader of the people: that is, a most confounded scoundrel. You h... | that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen, "as yo were pleased to want wi' me?" "Why, I have told you," returned Bounderby. "Speak up like a man, since you are a man, and tell us about yourself and this Combination." "Wi' yor pardon, sir," said Stephen Blackpo... | was acquainted were changed to him, and he feared to try others, and dreaded that Rachael might be even singled out from the rest if she were seen in his company. So, he had been quite alone during the four days, and had spoken to no one, when, as he was leaving his work at night, a young man of a very light complexion... | you believe it, that although they have put this mark upon him, he is such a slave to them still, that he's afraid to open his lips about them?" "I sed as I had nowt to sen, sir; not as I was fearfo' o' openin' my lips." "You said! Ah! _I_ know what you said; more than that, I know what you mean, you see. Not always th... | Hard Times |
"how it happens." | Josiah Bounderby | confidence with the opposite wall:<|quote|>"how it happens."</|quote|>"I'd leefer not coom to | and shutting his eyes in confidence with the opposite wall:<|quote|>"how it happens."</|quote|>"I'd leefer not coom to 't, sir; but sin you | fast "may I take the liberty of asking you how it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?" "How 't happens?" "Ah!" said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms of his coat, and jerking his head and shutting his eyes in confidence with the opposite wall:<|quote|>"how it happens."</|quote|>"I'd leefer not ... | pretty well, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. "You'll think this tolerably strong. You'll say, upon my soul this is a tidy specimen of what my friends have to deal with; but this is nothing, sir! You shall hear me ask this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool" wind springing up very fast "may I take the liberty of asking... | that that fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and that he is not a regular qualified leader of the people: that is, a most confounded scoundrel. You had better tell us so at once; you can't deceive me. You want to tell us so. Why don't you?" "I'm as sooary as yo, sir, when the peopl... | I have told you," returned Bounderby. "Speak up like a man, since you are a man, and tell us about yourself and this Combination." "Wi' yor pardon, sir," said Stephen Blackpool, "I ha' nowt to sen about it." Mr. Bounderby, who was always more or less like a Wind, finding something in his way here, began to blow at it d... | were seen in his company. So, he had been quite alone during the four days, and had spoken to no one, when, as he was leaving his work at night, a young man of a very light complexion accosted him in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his ... | I was fearfo' o' openin' my lips." "You said! Ah! _I_ know what you said; more than that, I know what you mean, you see. Not always the same thing, by the Lord Harry! Quite different things. You had better tell us at once, that that fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and that he is... | Hard Times |
"I'd leefer not coom to 't, sir; but sin you put th' question an' not want'n t' be ill-manner'n I'll answer. I ha passed a promess." | Stephen Blackpool | opposite wall: "how it happens."<|quote|>"I'd leefer not coom to 't, sir; but sin you put th' question an' not want'n t' be ill-manner'n I'll answer. I ha passed a promess."</|quote|>"Not to me, you know," | eyes in confidence with the opposite wall: "how it happens."<|quote|>"I'd leefer not coom to 't, sir; but sin you put th' question an' not want'n t' be ill-manner'n I'll answer. I ha passed a promess."</|quote|>"Not to me, you know," said Bounderby. (Gusty weather with | take the liberty of asking you how it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?" "How 't happens?" "Ah!" said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms of his coat, and jerking his head and shutting his eyes in confidence with the opposite wall: "how it happens."<|quote|>"I'd leefer not coom to 't, sir; but ... | said Mr. Bounderby. "You'll think this tolerably strong. You'll say, upon my soul this is a tidy specimen of what my friends have to deal with; but this is nothing, sir! You shall hear me ask this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool" wind springing up very fast "may I take the liberty of asking you how it happens that ... | Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and that he is not a regular qualified leader of the people: that is, a most confounded scoundrel. You had better tell us so at once; you can't deceive me. You want to tell us so. Why don't you?" "I'm as sooary as yo, sir, when the people's leaders is ba... | you," returned Bounderby. "Speak up like a man, since you are a man, and tell us about yourself and this Combination." "Wi' yor pardon, sir," said Stephen Blackpool, "I ha' nowt to sen about it." Mr. Bounderby, who was always more or less like a Wind, finding something in his way here, began to blow at it directly. "No... | his company. So, he had been quite alone during the four days, and had spoken to no one, when, as he was leaving his work at night, a young man of a very light complexion accosted him in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his hand, in his ... | wife, and her brother, and a great gentleman from London, were present. To whom Stephen made his obeisance, closing the door and standing near it, with his hat in his hand. "This is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa... | Hard Times |
"Not to me, you know," | Josiah Bounderby | I ha passed a promess."<|quote|>"Not to me, you know,"</|quote|>said Bounderby. (Gusty weather with | t' be ill-manner'n I'll answer. I ha passed a promess."<|quote|>"Not to me, you know,"</|quote|>said Bounderby. (Gusty weather with deceitful calms. One now prevailing.) | thumbs in the arms of his coat, and jerking his head and shutting his eyes in confidence with the opposite wall: "how it happens." "I'd leefer not coom to 't, sir; but sin you put th' question an' not want'n t' be ill-manner'n I'll answer. I ha passed a promess."<|quote|>"Not to me, you know,"</|quote|>said Bounderby. ... | but this is nothing, sir! You shall hear me ask this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool" wind springing up very fast "may I take the liberty of asking you how it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?" "How 't happens?" "Ah!" said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms of his coat, and jerking his hea... | a most confounded scoundrel. You had better tell us so at once; you can't deceive me. You want to tell us so. Why don't you?" "I'm as sooary as yo, sir, when the people's leaders is bad," said Stephen, shaking his head. "They taks such as offers. Haply 'tis na' the sma'est o' their misfortuns when they can get no bette... | Stephen Blackpool, "I ha' nowt to sen about it." Mr. Bounderby, who was always more or less like a Wind, finding something in his way here, began to blow at it directly. "Now, look here, Harthouse," said he, "here's a specimen of 'em. When this man was here once before, I warned this man against the mischievous strange... | night, a young man of a very light complexion accosted him in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his hand, in his gratitude for being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a feint of adjusting the lining, and said, "Yes."... | are a man, and tell us about yourself and this Combination." "Wi' yor pardon, sir," said Stephen Blackpool, "I ha' nowt to sen about it." Mr. Bounderby, who was always more or less like a Wind, finding something in his way here, began to blow at it directly. "Now, look here, Harthouse," said he, "here's a specimen of '... | Hard Times |
said Bounderby. (Gusty weather with deceitful calms. One now prevailing.) | No speaker | "Not to me, you know,"<|quote|>said Bounderby. (Gusty weather with deceitful calms. One now prevailing.)</|quote|>"O no, sir. Not to | I ha passed a promess." "Not to me, you know,"<|quote|>said Bounderby. (Gusty weather with deceitful calms. One now prevailing.)</|quote|>"O no, sir. Not to yo." "As for me, any | his coat, and jerking his head and shutting his eyes in confidence with the opposite wall: "how it happens." "I'd leefer not coom to 't, sir; but sin you put th' question an' not want'n t' be ill-manner'n I'll answer. I ha passed a promess." "Not to me, you know,"<|quote|>said Bounderby. (Gusty weather with deceitful c... | You shall hear me ask this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool" wind springing up very fast "may I take the liberty of asking you how it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?" "How 't happens?" "Ah!" said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms of his coat, and jerking his head and shutting his eyes in... | had better tell us so at once; you can't deceive me. You want to tell us so. Why don't you?" "I'm as sooary as yo, sir, when the people's leaders is bad," said Stephen, shaking his head. "They taks such as offers. Haply 'tis na' the sma'est o' their misfortuns when they can get no better." The wind began to get boister... | to sen about it." Mr. Bounderby, who was always more or less like a Wind, finding something in his way here, began to blow at it directly. "Now, look here, Harthouse," said he, "here's a specimen of 'em. When this man was here once before, I warned this man against the mischievous strangers who are always about and who... | a very light complexion accosted him in the street. "Your name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his hand, in his gratitude for being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a feint of adjusting the lining, and said, "Yes." "You are the Hand the... | and discordantly on Stephen's ear. Besides being a rough handling of his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen, "as yo were pleased to want wi' me?" "Why, I have told you," returned Bounderby. "Speak up like a man, since y... | Hard Times |
"O no, sir. Not to yo." | Stephen Blackpool | deceitful calms. One now prevailing.)<|quote|>"O no, sir. Not to yo."</|quote|>"As for me, any consideration | said Bounderby. (Gusty weather with deceitful calms. One now prevailing.)<|quote|>"O no, sir. Not to yo."</|quote|>"As for me, any consideration for me has had just | in confidence with the opposite wall: "how it happens." "I'd leefer not coom to 't, sir; but sin you put th' question an' not want'n t' be ill-manner'n I'll answer. I ha passed a promess." "Not to me, you know," said Bounderby. (Gusty weather with deceitful calms. One now prevailing.)<|quote|>"O no, sir. Not to yo."</|... | Mr. Blackpool" wind springing up very fast "may I take the liberty of asking you how it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?" "How 't happens?" "Ah!" said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms of his coat, and jerking his head and shutting his eyes in confidence with the opposite wall: "how it happe... | me. You want to tell us so. Why don't you?" "I'm as sooary as yo, sir, when the people's leaders is bad," said Stephen, shaking his head. "They taks such as offers. Haply 'tis na' the sma'est o' their misfortuns when they can get no better." The wind began to get boisterous. "Now, you'll think this pretty well, Harthou... | or less like a Wind, finding something in his way here, began to blow at it directly. "Now, look here, Harthouse," said he, "here's a specimen of 'em. When this man was here once before, I warned this man against the mischievous strangers who are always about and who ought to be hanged wherever they are found and I tol... | name's Blackpool, ain't it?" said the young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his hand, in his gratitude for being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a feint of adjusting the lining, and said, "Yes." "You are the Hand they have sent to Coventry, I mean?" said Bitzer, the very li... | you see. Not always the same thing, by the Lord Harry! Quite different things. You had better tell us at once, that that fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and that he is not a regular qualified leader of the people: that is, a most confounded scoundrel. You had better tell us so a... | Hard Times |
"As for me, any consideration for me has had just nothing at all to do with it," | Josiah Bounderby | no, sir. Not to yo."<|quote|>"As for me, any consideration for me has had just nothing at all to do with it,"</|quote|>said Bounderby, still in confidence | calms. One now prevailing.) "O no, sir. Not to yo."<|quote|>"As for me, any consideration for me has had just nothing at all to do with it,"</|quote|>said Bounderby, still in confidence with the wall. "If only | "how it happens." "I'd leefer not coom to 't, sir; but sin you put th' question an' not want'n t' be ill-manner'n I'll answer. I ha passed a promess." "Not to me, you know," said Bounderby. (Gusty weather with deceitful calms. One now prevailing.) "O no, sir. Not to yo."<|quote|>"As for me, any consideration for me has... | fast "may I take the liberty of asking you how it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?" "How 't happens?" "Ah!" said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms of his coat, and jerking his head and shutting his eyes in confidence with the opposite wall: "how it happens." "I'd leefer not coom to 't, sir; ... | so. Why don't you?" "I'm as sooary as yo, sir, when the people's leaders is bad," said Stephen, shaking his head. "They taks such as offers. Haply 'tis na' the sma'est o' their misfortuns when they can get no better." The wind began to get boisterous. "Now, you'll think this pretty well, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby.... | something in his way here, began to blow at it directly. "Now, look here, Harthouse," said he, "here's a specimen of 'em. When this man was here once before, I warned this man against the mischievous strangers who are always about and who ought to be hanged wherever they are found and I told this man that he was going ... | young man. Stephen coloured to find himself with his hat in his hand, in his gratitude for being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a feint of adjusting the lining, and said, "Yes." "You are the Hand they have sent to Coventry, I mean?" said Bitzer, the very light young man in question. Stephen ans... | upon him, he is such a slave to them still, that he's afraid to open his lips about them?" "I sed as I had nowt to sen, sir; not as I was fearfo' o' openin' my lips." "You said! Ah! _I_ know what you said; more than that, I know what you mean, you see. Not always the same thing, by the Lord Harry! Quite different thing... | Hard Times |
said Bounderby, still in confidence with the wall. | No speaker | all to do with it,"<|quote|>said Bounderby, still in confidence with the wall.</|quote|>"If only Josiah Bounderby of | has had just nothing at all to do with it,"<|quote|>said Bounderby, still in confidence with the wall.</|quote|>"If only Josiah Bounderby of Coketown had been in question, | not want'n t' be ill-manner'n I'll answer. I ha passed a promess." "Not to me, you know," said Bounderby. (Gusty weather with deceitful calms. One now prevailing.) "O no, sir. Not to yo." "As for me, any consideration for me has had just nothing at all to do with it,"<|quote|>said Bounderby, still in confidence with th... | in this Combination?" "How 't happens?" "Ah!" said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms of his coat, and jerking his head and shutting his eyes in confidence with the opposite wall: "how it happens." "I'd leefer not coom to 't, sir; but sin you put th' question an' not want'n t' be ill-manner'n I'll answer. I ha ... | Stephen, shaking his head. "They taks such as offers. Haply 'tis na' the sma'est o' their misfortuns when they can get no better." The wind began to get boisterous. "Now, you'll think this pretty well, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. "You'll think this tolerably strong. You'll say, upon my soul this is a tidy specimen ... | "here's a specimen of 'em. When this man was here once before, I warned this man against the mischievous strangers who are always about and who ought to be hanged wherever they are found and I told this man that he was going in the wrong direction. Now, would you believe it, that although they have put this mark upon h... | being spoken to, or in the suddenness of it, or both. He made a feint of adjusting the lining, and said, "Yes." "You are the Hand they have sent to Coventry, I mean?" said Bitzer, the very light young man in question. Stephen answered "Yes," again. "I supposed so, from their all appearing to keep away from you. Mr. Bou... | mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen, "as yo were pleased to want wi' me?" "Why, I have told you," returned Bounderby. "Speak up like a man, since you are a man, and tell us about yourself and this Combination." "Wi' yor pardon, ... | Hard Times |
"If only Josiah Bounderby of Coketown had been in question, you would have joined and made no bones about it?" | Josiah Bounderby | in confidence with the wall.<|quote|>"If only Josiah Bounderby of Coketown had been in question, you would have joined and made no bones about it?"</|quote|>"Why yes, sir. 'Tis true." | with it," said Bounderby, still in confidence with the wall.<|quote|>"If only Josiah Bounderby of Coketown had been in question, you would have joined and made no bones about it?"</|quote|>"Why yes, sir. 'Tis true." "Though he knows," said Mr. | ha passed a promess." "Not to me, you know," said Bounderby. (Gusty weather with deceitful calms. One now prevailing.) "O no, sir. Not to yo." "As for me, any consideration for me has had just nothing at all to do with it," said Bounderby, still in confidence with the wall.<|quote|>"If only Josiah Bounderby of Coketown... | Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms of his coat, and jerking his head and shutting his eyes in confidence with the opposite wall: "how it happens." "I'd leefer not coom to 't, sir; but sin you put th' question an' not want'n t' be ill-manner'n I'll answer. I ha passed a promess." "Not to me, you know," said Boun... | offers. Haply 'tis na' the sma'est o' their misfortuns when they can get no better." The wind began to get boisterous. "Now, you'll think this pretty well, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. "You'll think this tolerably strong. You'll say, upon my soul this is a tidy specimen of what my friends have to deal with; but this... | was here once before, I warned this man against the mischievous strangers who are always about and who ought to be hanged wherever they are found and I told this man that he was going in the wrong direction. Now, would you believe it, that although they have put this mark upon him, he is such a slave to them still, tha... | it, or both. He made a feint of adjusting the lining, and said, "Yes." "You are the Hand they have sent to Coventry, I mean?" said Bitzer, the very light young man in question. Stephen answered "Yes," again. "I supposed so, from their all appearing to keep away from you. Mr. Bounderby wants to speak to you. You know hi... | fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and that he is not a regular qualified leader of the people: that is, a most confounded scoundrel. You had better tell us so at once; you can't deceive me. You want to tell us so. Why don't you?" "I'm as sooary as yo, sir, when the people's leader... | Hard Times |
"Why yes, sir. 'Tis true." | Stephen Blackpool | made no bones about it?"<|quote|>"Why yes, sir. 'Tis true."</|quote|>"Though he knows," said Mr. | you would have joined and made no bones about it?"<|quote|>"Why yes, sir. 'Tis true."</|quote|>"Though he knows," said Mr. Bounderby, now blowing a gale, | no, sir. Not to yo." "As for me, any consideration for me has had just nothing at all to do with it," said Bounderby, still in confidence with the wall. "If only Josiah Bounderby of Coketown had been in question, you would have joined and made no bones about it?"<|quote|>"Why yes, sir. 'Tis true."</|quote|>"Though he k... | confidence with the opposite wall: "how it happens." "I'd leefer not coom to 't, sir; but sin you put th' question an' not want'n t' be ill-manner'n I'll answer. I ha passed a promess." "Not to me, you know," said Bounderby. (Gusty weather with deceitful calms. One now prevailing.) "O no, sir. Not to yo." "As for me, a... | boisterous. "Now, you'll think this pretty well, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. "You'll think this tolerably strong. You'll say, upon my soul this is a tidy specimen of what my friends have to deal with; but this is nothing, sir! You shall hear me ask this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool" wind springing up very fa... | be hanged wherever they are found and I told this man that he was going in the wrong direction. Now, would you believe it, that although they have put this mark upon him, he is such a slave to them still, that he's afraid to open his lips about them?" "I sed as I had nowt to sen, sir; not as I was fearfo' o' openin' my... | sent to Coventry, I mean?" said Bitzer, the very light young man in question. Stephen answered "Yes," again. "I supposed so, from their all appearing to keep away from you. Mr. Bounderby wants to speak to you. You know his house, don't you?" Stephen said "Yes," again. "Then go straight up there, will you?" said Bitzer.... | it." Mr. Bounderby, who was always more or less like a Wind, finding something in his way here, began to blow at it directly. "Now, look here, Harthouse," said he, "here's a specimen of 'em. When this man was here once before, I warned this man against the mischievous strangers who are always about and who ought to be ... | Hard Times |
"Though he knows," | Josiah Bounderby | "Why yes, sir. 'Tis true."<|quote|>"Though he knows,"</|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby, now blowing | made no bones about it?" "Why yes, sir. 'Tis true."<|quote|>"Though he knows,"</|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby, now blowing a gale, "that there are | "As for me, any consideration for me has had just nothing at all to do with it," said Bounderby, still in confidence with the wall. "If only Josiah Bounderby of Coketown had been in question, you would have joined and made no bones about it?" "Why yes, sir. 'Tis true."<|quote|>"Though he knows,"</|quote|>said Mr. Bound... | "how it happens." "I'd leefer not coom to 't, sir; but sin you put th' question an' not want'n t' be ill-manner'n I'll answer. I ha passed a promess." "Not to me, you know," said Bounderby. (Gusty weather with deceitful calms. One now prevailing.) "O no, sir. Not to yo." "As for me, any consideration for me has had jus... | pretty well, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. "You'll think this tolerably strong. You'll say, upon my soul this is a tidy specimen of what my friends have to deal with; but this is nothing, sir! You shall hear me ask this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool" wind springing up very fast "may I take the liberty of asking... | found and I told this man that he was going in the wrong direction. Now, would you believe it, that although they have put this mark upon him, he is such a slave to them still, that he's afraid to open his lips about them?" "I sed as I had nowt to sen, sir; not as I was fearfo' o' openin' my lips." "You said! Ah! _I_ k... | said Bitzer, the very light young man in question. Stephen answered "Yes," again. "I supposed so, from their all appearing to keep away from you. Mr. Bounderby wants to speak to you. You know his house, don't you?" Stephen said "Yes," again. "Then go straight up there, will you?" said Bitzer. "You're expected, and have... | he is such a slave to them still, that he's afraid to open his lips about them?" "I sed as I had nowt to sen, sir; not as I was fearfo' o' openin' my lips." "You said! Ah! _I_ know what you said; more than that, I know what you mean, you see. Not always the same thing, by the Lord Harry! Quite different things. You had... | Hard Times |
said Mr. Bounderby, now blowing a gale, | No speaker | 'Tis true." "Though he knows,"<|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby, now blowing a gale,</|quote|>"that there are a set | about it?" "Why yes, sir. 'Tis true." "Though he knows,"<|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby, now blowing a gale,</|quote|>"that there are a set of rascals and rebels whom | any consideration for me has had just nothing at all to do with it," said Bounderby, still in confidence with the wall. "If only Josiah Bounderby of Coketown had been in question, you would have joined and made no bones about it?" "Why yes, sir. 'Tis true." "Though he knows,"<|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby, now blowing a g... | "I'd leefer not coom to 't, sir; but sin you put th' question an' not want'n t' be ill-manner'n I'll answer. I ha passed a promess." "Not to me, you know," said Bounderby. (Gusty weather with deceitful calms. One now prevailing.) "O no, sir. Not to yo." "As for me, any consideration for me has had just nothing at all t... | said Mr. Bounderby. "You'll think this tolerably strong. You'll say, upon my soul this is a tidy specimen of what my friends have to deal with; but this is nothing, sir! You shall hear me ask this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool" wind springing up very fast "may I take the liberty of asking you how it happens that ... | told this man that he was going in the wrong direction. Now, would you believe it, that although they have put this mark upon him, he is such a slave to them still, that he's afraid to open his lips about them?" "I sed as I had nowt to sen, sir; not as I was fearfo' o' openin' my lips." "You said! Ah! _I_ know what you... | very light young man in question. Stephen answered "Yes," again. "I supposed so, from their all appearing to keep away from you. Mr. Bounderby wants to speak to you. You know his house, don't you?" Stephen said "Yes," again. "Then go straight up there, will you?" said Bitzer. "You're expected, and have only to tell the... | said he, "here's a specimen of 'em. When this man was here once before, I warned this man against the mischievous strangers who are always about and who ought to be hanged wherever they are found and I told this man that he was going in the wrong direction. Now, would you believe it, that although they have put this ma... | Hard Times |
"that there are a set of rascals and rebels whom transportation is too good for! Now, Mr. Harthouse, you have been knocking about in the world some time. Did you ever meet with anything like that man out of this blessed country?" | Josiah Bounderby | Bounderby, now blowing a gale,<|quote|>"that there are a set of rascals and rebels whom transportation is too good for! Now, Mr. Harthouse, you have been knocking about in the world some time. Did you ever meet with anything like that man out of this blessed country?"</|quote|>And Mr. Bounderby pointed him | "Though he knows," said Mr. Bounderby, now blowing a gale,<|quote|>"that there are a set of rascals and rebels whom transportation is too good for! Now, Mr. Harthouse, you have been knocking about in the world some time. Did you ever meet with anything like that man out of this blessed country?"</|quote|>And Mr. Bounde... | nothing at all to do with it," said Bounderby, still in confidence with the wall. "If only Josiah Bounderby of Coketown had been in question, you would have joined and made no bones about it?" "Why yes, sir. 'Tis true." "Though he knows," said Mr. Bounderby, now blowing a gale,<|quote|>"that there are a set of rascals ... | but sin you put th' question an' not want'n t' be ill-manner'n I'll answer. I ha passed a promess." "Not to me, you know," said Bounderby. (Gusty weather with deceitful calms. One now prevailing.) "O no, sir. Not to yo." "As for me, any consideration for me has had just nothing at all to do with it," said Bounderby, st... | strong. You'll say, upon my soul this is a tidy specimen of what my friends have to deal with; but this is nothing, sir! You shall hear me ask this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool" wind springing up very fast "may I take the liberty of asking you how it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?" "How 't h... | in the wrong direction. Now, would you believe it, that although they have put this mark upon him, he is such a slave to them still, that he's afraid to open his lips about them?" "I sed as I had nowt to sen, sir; not as I was fearfo' o' openin' my lips." "You said! Ah! _I_ know what you said; more than that, I know wh... | answered "Yes," again. "I supposed so, from their all appearing to keep away from you. Mr. Bounderby wants to speak to you. You know his house, don't you?" Stephen said "Yes," again. "Then go straight up there, will you?" said Bitzer. "You're expected, and have only to tell the servant it's you. I belong to the Bank; s... | returned Bounderby. "Speak up like a man, since you are a man, and tell us about yourself and this Combination." "Wi' yor pardon, sir," said Stephen Blackpool, "I ha' nowt to sen about it." Mr. Bounderby, who was always more or less like a Wind, finding something in his way here, began to blow at it directly. "Now, loo... | Hard Times |
And Mr. Bounderby pointed him out for inspection, with an angry finger. | No speaker | out of this blessed country?"<|quote|>And Mr. Bounderby pointed him out for inspection, with an angry finger.</|quote|>"Nay, ma'am," said Stephen Blackpool, | with anything like that man out of this blessed country?"<|quote|>And Mr. Bounderby pointed him out for inspection, with an angry finger.</|quote|>"Nay, ma'am," said Stephen Blackpool, staunchly protesting against the words | knows," said Mr. Bounderby, now blowing a gale, "that there are a set of rascals and rebels whom transportation is too good for! Now, Mr. Harthouse, you have been knocking about in the world some time. Did you ever meet with anything like that man out of this blessed country?"<|quote|>And Mr. Bounderby pointed him out ... | me, any consideration for me has had just nothing at all to do with it," said Bounderby, still in confidence with the wall. "If only Josiah Bounderby of Coketown had been in question, you would have joined and made no bones about it?" "Why yes, sir. 'Tis true." "Though he knows," said Mr. Bounderby, now blowing a gale,... | I take the liberty of asking you how it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?" "How 't happens?" "Ah!" said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms of his coat, and jerking his head and shutting his eyes in confidence with the opposite wall: "how it happens." "I'd leefer not coom to 't, sir; but sin yo... | sen, sir; not as I was fearfo' o' openin' my lips." "You said! Ah! _I_ know what you said; more than that, I know what you mean, you see. Not always the same thing, by the Lord Harry! Quite different things. You had better tell us at once, that that fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mutin... | expected, and have only to tell the servant it's you. I belong to the Bank; so, if you go straight up without me (I was sent to fetch you), you'll save me a walk." Stephen, whose way had been in the contrary direction, turned about, and betook himself as in duty bound, to the red brick castle of the giant Bounderby. CH... | boisterous. "Now, you'll think this pretty well, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. "You'll think this tolerably strong. You'll say, upon my soul this is a tidy specimen of what my friends have to deal with; but this is nothing, sir! You shall hear me ask this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool" wind springing up very fa... | Hard Times |
"Nay, ma'am," | Stephen Blackpool | inspection, with an angry finger.<|quote|>"Nay, ma'am,"</|quote|>said Stephen Blackpool, staunchly protesting | Bounderby pointed him out for inspection, with an angry finger.<|quote|>"Nay, ma'am,"</|quote|>said Stephen Blackpool, staunchly protesting against the words that had | set of rascals and rebels whom transportation is too good for! Now, Mr. Harthouse, you have been knocking about in the world some time. Did you ever meet with anything like that man out of this blessed country?" And Mr. Bounderby pointed him out for inspection, with an angry finger.<|quote|>"Nay, ma'am,"</|quote|>said ... | do with it," said Bounderby, still in confidence with the wall. "If only Josiah Bounderby of Coketown had been in question, you would have joined and made no bones about it?" "Why yes, sir. 'Tis true." "Though he knows," said Mr. Bounderby, now blowing a gale, "that there are a set of rascals and rebels whom transporta... | refused to be in this Combination?" "How 't happens?" "Ah!" said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms of his coat, and jerking his head and shutting his eyes in confidence with the opposite wall: "how it happens." "I'd leefer not coom to 't, sir; but sin you put th' question an' not want'n t' be ill-manner'n I'll... | said! Ah! _I_ know what you said; more than that, I know what you mean, you see. Not always the same thing, by the Lord Harry! Quite different things. You had better tell us at once, that that fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and that he is not a regular qualified leader of the p... | to the Bank; so, if you go straight up without me (I was sent to fetch you), you'll save me a walk." Stephen, whose way had been in the contrary direction, turned about, and betook himself as in duty bound, to the red brick castle of the giant Bounderby. CHAPTER V MEN AND MASTERS "WELL, Stephen," said Bounderby, in his... | in the wrong direction. Now, would you believe it, that although they have put this mark upon him, he is such a slave to them still, that he's afraid to open his lips about them?" "I sed as I had nowt to sen, sir; not as I was fearfo' o' openin' my lips." "You said! Ah! _I_ know what you said; more than that, I know wh... | Hard Times |
said Stephen Blackpool, staunchly protesting against the words that had been used, and instinctively addressing himself to Louisa, after glancing at her face. | No speaker | an angry finger. "Nay, ma'am,"<|quote|>said Stephen Blackpool, staunchly protesting against the words that had been used, and instinctively addressing himself to Louisa, after glancing at her face.</|quote|>"Not rebels, nor yet rascals. | him out for inspection, with an angry finger. "Nay, ma'am,"<|quote|>said Stephen Blackpool, staunchly protesting against the words that had been used, and instinctively addressing himself to Louisa, after glancing at her face.</|quote|>"Not rebels, nor yet rascals. Nowt o' th' kind, ma'am, | rascals and rebels whom transportation is too good for! Now, Mr. Harthouse, you have been knocking about in the world some time. Did you ever meet with anything like that man out of this blessed country?" And Mr. Bounderby pointed him out for inspection, with an angry finger. "Nay, ma'am,"<|quote|>said Stephen Blackpoo... | it," said Bounderby, still in confidence with the wall. "If only Josiah Bounderby of Coketown had been in question, you would have joined and made no bones about it?" "Why yes, sir. 'Tis true." "Though he knows," said Mr. Bounderby, now blowing a gale, "that there are a set of rascals and rebels whom transportation is ... | be in this Combination?" "How 't happens?" "Ah!" said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms of his coat, and jerking his head and shutting his eyes in confidence with the opposite wall: "how it happens." "I'd leefer not coom to 't, sir; but sin you put th' question an' not want'n t' be ill-manner'n I'll answer. I ... | _I_ know what you said; more than that, I know what you mean, you see. Not always the same thing, by the Lord Harry! Quite different things. You had better tell us at once, that that fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and that he is not a regular qualified leader of the people: tha... | Bank; so, if you go straight up without me (I was sent to fetch you), you'll save me a walk." Stephen, whose way had been in the contrary direction, turned about, and betook himself as in duty bound, to the red brick castle of the giant Bounderby. CHAPTER V MEN AND MASTERS "WELL, Stephen," said Bounderby, in his windy ... | about it." Mr. Bounderby, who was always more or less like a Wind, finding something in his way here, began to blow at it directly. "Now, look here, Harthouse," said he, "here's a specimen of 'em. When this man was here once before, I warned this man against the mischievous strangers who are always about and who ought ... | Hard Times |
"Not rebels, nor yet rascals. Nowt o' th' kind, ma'am, nowt o' th' kind. They've not doon me a kindness, ma'am, as I know and feel. But there's not a dozen men amoong 'em, ma'am a dozen? Not six but what believes as he has doon his duty by the rest and by himseln. God forbid as I, that ha' known, and had'n experience o... | Stephen Blackpool | after glancing at her face.<|quote|>"Not rebels, nor yet rascals. Nowt o' th' kind, ma'am, nowt o' th' kind. They've not doon me a kindness, ma'am, as I know and feel. But there's not a dozen men amoong 'em, ma'am a dozen? Not six but what believes as he has doon his duty by the rest and by himseln. God forbid as I, th... | instinctively addressing himself to Louisa, after glancing at her face.<|quote|>"Not rebels, nor yet rascals. Nowt o' th' kind, ma'am, nowt o' th' kind. They've not doon me a kindness, ma'am, as I know and feel. But there's not a dozen men amoong 'em, ma'am a dozen? Not six but what believes as he has doon his duty by ... | you ever meet with anything like that man out of this blessed country?" And Mr. Bounderby pointed him out for inspection, with an angry finger. "Nay, ma'am," said Stephen Blackpool, staunchly protesting against the words that had been used, and instinctively addressing himself to Louisa, after glancing at her face.<|qu... | and made no bones about it?" "Why yes, sir. 'Tis true." "Though he knows," said Mr. Bounderby, now blowing a gale, "that there are a set of rascals and rebels whom transportation is too good for! Now, Mr. Harthouse, you have been knocking about in the world some time. Did you ever meet with anything like that man out o... | head and shutting his eyes in confidence with the opposite wall: "how it happens." "I'd leefer not coom to 't, sir; but sin you put th' question an' not want'n t' be ill-manner'n I'll answer. I ha passed a promess." "Not to me, you know," said Bounderby. (Gusty weather with deceitful calms. One now prevailing.) "O no, ... | Harry! Quite different things. You had better tell us at once, that that fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and that he is not a regular qualified leader of the people: that is, a most confounded scoundrel. You had better tell us so at once; you can't deceive me. You want to tell u... | had been in the contrary direction, turned about, and betook himself as in duty bound, to the red brick castle of the giant Bounderby. CHAPTER V MEN AND MASTERS "WELL, Stephen," said Bounderby, in his windy manner, "what's this I hear? What have these pests of the earth been doing to _you_? Come in, and speak up." It w... | is such a slave to them still, that he's afraid to open his lips about them?" "I sed as I had nowt to sen, sir; not as I was fearfo' o' openin' my lips." "You said! Ah! _I_ know what you said; more than that, I know what you mean, you see. Not always the same thing, by the Lord Harry! Quite different things. You had be... | Hard Times |
He spoke with the rugged earnestness of his place and character deepened perhaps by a proud consciousness that he was faithful to his class under all their mistrust; but he fully remembered where he was, and did not even raise his voice. | No speaker | to me what they may!"<|quote|>He spoke with the rugged earnestness of his place and character deepened perhaps by a proud consciousness that he was faithful to his class under all their mistrust; but he fully remembered where he was, and did not even raise his voice.</|quote|>"No, ma'am, no. They're true | truth, let 'em ha' doon to me what they may!"<|quote|>He spoke with the rugged earnestness of his place and character deepened perhaps by a proud consciousness that he was faithful to his class under all their mistrust; but he fully remembered where he was, and did not even raise his voice.</|quote|>"No, ma'am, no. The... | that ha' known, and had'n experience o' these men aw my life I, that ha' ett'n an' droonken wi' 'em, an' seet'n wi' 'em, and toil'n wi' 'em, and lov'n 'em, should fail fur to stan by 'em wi' the truth, let 'em ha' doon to me what they may!"<|quote|>He spoke with the rugged earnestness of his place and character deepene... | kind, ma'am, nowt o' th' kind. They've not doon me a kindness, ma'am, as I know and feel. But there's not a dozen men amoong 'em, ma'am a dozen? Not six but what believes as he has doon his duty by the rest and by himseln. God forbid as I, that ha' known, and had'n experience o' these men aw my life I, that ha' ett'n a... | sir. 'Tis true." "Though he knows," said Mr. Bounderby, now blowing a gale, "that there are a set of rascals and rebels whom transportation is too good for! Now, Mr. Harthouse, you have been knocking about in the world some time. Did you ever meet with anything like that man out of this blessed country?" And Mr. Bounde... | you'll think this pretty well, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. "You'll think this tolerably strong. You'll say, upon my soul this is a tidy specimen of what my friends have to deal with; but this is nothing, sir! You shall hear me ask this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool" wind springing up very fast "may I take the... | is the man I was telling you about, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. The gentleman he addressed, who was talking to Mrs. Bounderby on the sofa, got up, saying in an indolent way, "Oh really?" and dawdled to the hearthrug where Mr. Bounderby stood. "Now," said Bounderby, "speak up!" After the four days he had passed, thi... | ha passed a promess." "Not to me, you know," said Bounderby. (Gusty weather with deceitful calms. One now prevailing.) "O no, sir. Not to yo." "As for me, any consideration for me has had just nothing at all to do with it," said Bounderby, still in confidence with the wall. "If only Josiah Bounderby of Coketown had bee... | Hard Times |
"No, ma'am, no. They're true to one another, faithfo' to one another, 'fectionate to one another, e'en to death. Be poor amoong 'em, be sick amoong 'em, grieve amoong 'em for onny o' th' monny causes that carries grief to the poor man's door, an' they'll be tender wi' yo, gentle wi' yo, comfortable wi' yo, Chrisen wi' ... | Stephen Blackpool | not even raise his voice.<|quote|>"No, ma'am, no. They're true to one another, faithfo' to one another, 'fectionate to one another, e'en to death. Be poor amoong 'em, be sick amoong 'em, grieve amoong 'em for onny o' th' monny causes that carries grief to the poor man's door, an' they'll be tender wi' yo, gentle wi' yo... | where he was, and did not even raise his voice.<|quote|>"No, ma'am, no. They're true to one another, faithfo' to one another, 'fectionate to one another, e'en to death. Be poor amoong 'em, be sick amoong 'em, grieve amoong 'em for onny o' th' monny causes that carries grief to the poor man's door, an' they'll be tender... | 'em ha' doon to me what they may!" He spoke with the rugged earnestness of his place and character deepened perhaps by a proud consciousness that he was faithful to his class under all their mistrust; but he fully remembered where he was, and did not even raise his voice.<|quote|>"No, ma'am, no. They're true to one ano... | rest and by himseln. God forbid as I, that ha' known, and had'n experience o' these men aw my life I, that ha' ett'n an' droonken wi' 'em, an' seet'n wi' 'em, and toil'n wi' 'em, and lov'n 'em, should fail fur to stan by 'em wi' the truth, let 'em ha' doon to me what they may!" He spoke with the rugged earnestness of h... | you ever meet with anything like that man out of this blessed country?" And Mr. Bounderby pointed him out for inspection, with an angry finger. "Nay, ma'am," said Stephen Blackpool, staunchly protesting against the words that had been used, and instinctively addressing himself to Louisa, after glancing at her face. "No... | this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool" wind springing up very fast "may I take the liberty of asking you how it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?" "How 't happens?" "Ah!" said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms of his coat, and jerking his head and shutting his eyes in confidence with the o... | stood. "Now," said Bounderby, "speak up!" After the four days he had passed, this address fell rudely and discordantly on Stephen's ear. Besides being a rough handling of his wounded mind, it seemed to assume that he really was the self-interested deserter he had been called. "What were it, sir," said Stephen, "as yo w... | I'll answer. I ha passed a promess." "Not to me, you know," said Bounderby. (Gusty weather with deceitful calms. One now prevailing.) "O no, sir. Not to yo." "As for me, any consideration for me has had just nothing at all to do with it," said Bounderby, still in confidence with the wall. "If only Josiah Bounderby of C... | Hard Times |
"In short," | Josiah Bounderby | ere ever they'd be different."<|quote|>"In short,"</|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby, "it's because | They'd be riven to bits, ere ever they'd be different."<|quote|>"In short,"</|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby, "it's because they are so full of | sick amoong 'em, grieve amoong 'em for onny o' th' monny causes that carries grief to the poor man's door, an' they'll be tender wi' yo, gentle wi' yo, comfortable wi' yo, Chrisen wi' yo. Be sure o' that, ma'am. They'd be riven to bits, ere ever they'd be different."<|quote|>"In short,"</|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby, "it... | consciousness that he was faithful to his class under all their mistrust; but he fully remembered where he was, and did not even raise his voice. "No, ma'am, no. They're true to one another, faithfo' to one another, 'fectionate to one another, e'en to death. Be poor amoong 'em, be sick amoong 'em, grieve amoong 'em for... | and feel. But there's not a dozen men amoong 'em, ma'am a dozen? Not six but what believes as he has doon his duty by the rest and by himseln. God forbid as I, that ha' known, and had'n experience o' these men aw my life I, that ha' ett'n an' droonken wi' 'em, an' seet'n wi' 'em, and toil'n wi' 'em, and lov'n 'em, shou... | put th' question an' not want'n t' be ill-manner'n I'll answer. I ha passed a promess." "Not to me, you know," said Bounderby. (Gusty weather with deceitful calms. One now prevailing.) "O no, sir. Not to yo." "As for me, any consideration for me has had just nothing at all to do with it," said Bounderby, still in confi... | are a man, and tell us about yourself and this Combination." "Wi' yor pardon, sir," said Stephen Blackpool, "I ha' nowt to sen about it." Mr. Bounderby, who was always more or less like a Wind, finding something in his way here, began to blow at it directly. "Now, look here, Harthouse," said he, "here's a specimen of '... | sir, when the people's leaders is bad," said Stephen, shaking his head. "They taks such as offers. Haply 'tis na' the sma'est o' their misfortuns when they can get no better." The wind began to get boisterous. "Now, you'll think this pretty well, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. "You'll think this tolerably strong. You'... | Hard Times |
said Mr. Bounderby, | No speaker | they'd be different." "In short,"<|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby,</|quote|>"it's because they are so | riven to bits, ere ever they'd be different." "In short,"<|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby,</|quote|>"it's because they are so full of virtues that they | 'em, grieve amoong 'em for onny o' th' monny causes that carries grief to the poor man's door, an' they'll be tender wi' yo, gentle wi' yo, comfortable wi' yo, Chrisen wi' yo. Be sure o' that, ma'am. They'd be riven to bits, ere ever they'd be different." "In short,"<|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby,</|quote|>"it's because t... | he was faithful to his class under all their mistrust; but he fully remembered where he was, and did not even raise his voice. "No, ma'am, no. They're true to one another, faithfo' to one another, 'fectionate to one another, e'en to death. Be poor amoong 'em, be sick amoong 'em, grieve amoong 'em for onny o' th' monny ... | But there's not a dozen men amoong 'em, ma'am a dozen? Not six but what believes as he has doon his duty by the rest and by himseln. God forbid as I, that ha' known, and had'n experience o' these men aw my life I, that ha' ett'n an' droonken wi' 'em, an' seet'n wi' 'em, and toil'n wi' 'em, and lov'n 'em, should fail fu... | question an' not want'n t' be ill-manner'n I'll answer. I ha passed a promess." "Not to me, you know," said Bounderby. (Gusty weather with deceitful calms. One now prevailing.) "O no, sir. Not to yo." "As for me, any consideration for me has had just nothing at all to do with it," said Bounderby, still in confidence wi... | man, and tell us about yourself and this Combination." "Wi' yor pardon, sir," said Stephen Blackpool, "I ha' nowt to sen about it." Mr. Bounderby, who was always more or less like a Wind, finding something in his way here, began to blow at it directly. "Now, look here, Harthouse," said he, "here's a specimen of 'em. Wh... | are a set of rascals and rebels whom transportation is too good for! Now, Mr. Harthouse, you have been knocking about in the world some time. Did you ever meet with anything like that man out of this blessed country?" And Mr. Bounderby pointed him out for inspection, with an angry finger. "Nay, ma'am," said Stephen Bla... | Hard Times |
"it's because they are so full of virtues that they have turned you adrift. Go through with it while you are about it. Out with it." | Josiah Bounderby | "In short," said Mr. Bounderby,<|quote|>"it's because they are so full of virtues that they have turned you adrift. Go through with it while you are about it. Out with it."</|quote|>"How 'tis, ma'am," resumed Stephen, | ere ever they'd be different." "In short," said Mr. Bounderby,<|quote|>"it's because they are so full of virtues that they have turned you adrift. Go through with it while you are about it. Out with it."</|quote|>"How 'tis, ma'am," resumed Stephen, appearing still to find his | 'em for onny o' th' monny causes that carries grief to the poor man's door, an' they'll be tender wi' yo, gentle wi' yo, comfortable wi' yo, Chrisen wi' yo. Be sure o' that, ma'am. They'd be riven to bits, ere ever they'd be different." "In short," said Mr. Bounderby,<|quote|>"it's because they are so full of virtues t... | to his class under all their mistrust; but he fully remembered where he was, and did not even raise his voice. "No, ma'am, no. They're true to one another, faithfo' to one another, 'fectionate to one another, e'en to death. Be poor amoong 'em, be sick amoong 'em, grieve amoong 'em for onny o' th' monny causes that carr... | a dozen men amoong 'em, ma'am a dozen? Not six but what believes as he has doon his duty by the rest and by himseln. God forbid as I, that ha' known, and had'n experience o' these men aw my life I, that ha' ett'n an' droonken wi' 'em, an' seet'n wi' 'em, and toil'n wi' 'em, and lov'n 'em, should fail fur to stan by 'em... | want'n t' be ill-manner'n I'll answer. I ha passed a promess." "Not to me, you know," said Bounderby. (Gusty weather with deceitful calms. One now prevailing.) "O no, sir. Not to yo." "As for me, any consideration for me has had just nothing at all to do with it," said Bounderby, still in confidence with the wall. "If ... | us about yourself and this Combination." "Wi' yor pardon, sir," said Stephen Blackpool, "I ha' nowt to sen about it." Mr. Bounderby, who was always more or less like a Wind, finding something in his way here, began to blow at it directly. "Now, look here, Harthouse," said he, "here's a specimen of 'em. When this man wa... | Bounderby. (Gusty weather with deceitful calms. One now prevailing.) "O no, sir. Not to yo." "As for me, any consideration for me has had just nothing at all to do with it," said Bounderby, still in confidence with the wall. "If only Josiah Bounderby of Coketown had been in question, you would have joined and made no b... | Hard Times |
"How 'tis, ma'am," | Stephen Blackpool | about it. Out with it."<|quote|>"How 'tis, ma'am,"</|quote|>resumed Stephen, appearing still to | with it while you are about it. Out with it."<|quote|>"How 'tis, ma'am,"</|quote|>resumed Stephen, appearing still to find his natural refuge in | yo, Chrisen wi' yo. Be sure o' that, ma'am. They'd be riven to bits, ere ever they'd be different." "In short," said Mr. Bounderby, "it's because they are so full of virtues that they have turned you adrift. Go through with it while you are about it. Out with it."<|quote|>"How 'tis, ma'am,"</|quote|>resumed Stephen, ap... | to one another, faithfo' to one another, 'fectionate to one another, e'en to death. Be poor amoong 'em, be sick amoong 'em, grieve amoong 'em for onny o' th' monny causes that carries grief to the poor man's door, an' they'll be tender wi' yo, gentle wi' yo, comfortable wi' yo, Chrisen wi' yo. Be sure o' that, ma'am. T... | forbid as I, that ha' known, and had'n experience o' these men aw my life I, that ha' ett'n an' droonken wi' 'em, an' seet'n wi' 'em, and toil'n wi' 'em, and lov'n 'em, should fail fur to stan by 'em wi' the truth, let 'em ha' doon to me what they may!" He spoke with the rugged earnestness of his place and character de... | "O no, sir. Not to yo." "As for me, any consideration for me has had just nothing at all to do with it," said Bounderby, still in confidence with the wall. "If only Josiah Bounderby of Coketown had been in question, you would have joined and made no bones about it?" "Why yes, sir. 'Tis true." "Though he knows," said Mr... | or less like a Wind, finding something in his way here, began to blow at it directly. "Now, look here, Harthouse," said he, "here's a specimen of 'em. When this man was here once before, I warned this man against the mischievous strangers who are always about and who ought to be hanged wherever they are found and I tol... | bad," said Stephen, shaking his head. "They taks such as offers. Haply 'tis na' the sma'est o' their misfortuns when they can get no better." The wind began to get boisterous. "Now, you'll think this pretty well, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. "You'll think this tolerably strong. You'll say, upon my soul this is a tid... | Hard Times |
resumed Stephen, appearing still to find his natural refuge in Louisa's face, | No speaker | with it." "How 'tis, ma'am,"<|quote|>resumed Stephen, appearing still to find his natural refuge in Louisa's face,</|quote|>"that what is best in | you are about it. Out with it." "How 'tis, ma'am,"<|quote|>resumed Stephen, appearing still to find his natural refuge in Louisa's face,</|quote|>"that what is best in us fok, seems to turn | yo. Be sure o' that, ma'am. They'd be riven to bits, ere ever they'd be different." "In short," said Mr. Bounderby, "it's because they are so full of virtues that they have turned you adrift. Go through with it while you are about it. Out with it." "How 'tis, ma'am,"<|quote|>resumed Stephen, appearing still to find his... | faithfo' to one another, 'fectionate to one another, e'en to death. Be poor amoong 'em, be sick amoong 'em, grieve amoong 'em for onny o' th' monny causes that carries grief to the poor man's door, an' they'll be tender wi' yo, gentle wi' yo, comfortable wi' yo, Chrisen wi' yo. Be sure o' that, ma'am. They'd be riven t... | that ha' known, and had'n experience o' these men aw my life I, that ha' ett'n an' droonken wi' 'em, an' seet'n wi' 'em, and toil'n wi' 'em, and lov'n 'em, should fail fur to stan by 'em wi' the truth, let 'em ha' doon to me what they may!" He spoke with the rugged earnestness of his place and character deepened perhap... | Not to yo." "As for me, any consideration for me has had just nothing at all to do with it," said Bounderby, still in confidence with the wall. "If only Josiah Bounderby of Coketown had been in question, you would have joined and made no bones about it?" "Why yes, sir. 'Tis true." "Though he knows," said Mr. Bounderby,... | a Wind, finding something in his way here, began to blow at it directly. "Now, look here, Harthouse," said he, "here's a specimen of 'em. When this man was here once before, I warned this man against the mischievous strangers who are always about and who ought to be hanged wherever they are found and I told this man th... | Bounderby of Coketown had been in question, you would have joined and made no bones about it?" "Why yes, sir. 'Tis true." "Though he knows," said Mr. Bounderby, now blowing a gale, "that there are a set of rascals and rebels whom transportation is too good for! Now, Mr. Harthouse, you have been knocking about in the wo... | Hard Times |
"that what is best in us fok, seems to turn us most to trouble an' misfort'n an' mistake, I dunno. But 'tis so. I know 'tis, as I know the heavens is over me ahint the smoke. We're patient too, an' wants in general to do right. An' I canna think the fawt is aw wi' us." | Stephen Blackpool | natural refuge in Louisa's face,<|quote|>"that what is best in us fok, seems to turn us most to trouble an' misfort'n an' mistake, I dunno. But 'tis so. I know 'tis, as I know the heavens is over me ahint the smoke. We're patient too, an' wants in general to do right. An' I canna think the fawt is aw wi' us."</|quote|>... | appearing still to find his natural refuge in Louisa's face,<|quote|>"that what is best in us fok, seems to turn us most to trouble an' misfort'n an' mistake, I dunno. But 'tis so. I know 'tis, as I know the heavens is over me ahint the smoke. We're patient too, an' wants in general to do right. An' I canna think the f... | ever they'd be different." "In short," said Mr. Bounderby, "it's because they are so full of virtues that they have turned you adrift. Go through with it while you are about it. Out with it." "How 'tis, ma'am," resumed Stephen, appearing still to find his natural refuge in Louisa's face,<|quote|>"that what is best in u... | poor amoong 'em, be sick amoong 'em, grieve amoong 'em for onny o' th' monny causes that carries grief to the poor man's door, an' they'll be tender wi' yo, gentle wi' yo, comfortable wi' yo, Chrisen wi' yo. Be sure o' that, ma'am. They'd be riven to bits, ere ever they'd be different." "In short," said Mr. Bounderby, ... | I, that ha' ett'n an' droonken wi' 'em, an' seet'n wi' 'em, and toil'n wi' 'em, and lov'n 'em, should fail fur to stan by 'em wi' the truth, let 'em ha' doon to me what they may!" He spoke with the rugged earnestness of his place and character deepened perhaps by a proud consciousness that he was faithful to his class ... | just nothing at all to do with it," said Bounderby, still in confidence with the wall. "If only Josiah Bounderby of Coketown had been in question, you would have joined and made no bones about it?" "Why yes, sir. 'Tis true." "Though he knows," said Mr. Bounderby, now blowing a gale, "that there are a set of rascals and... | it directly. "Now, look here, Harthouse," said he, "here's a specimen of 'em. When this man was here once before, I warned this man against the mischievous strangers who are always about and who ought to be hanged wherever they are found and I told this man that he was going in the wrong direction. Now, would you belie... | and instinctively addressing himself to Louisa, after glancing at her face. "Not rebels, nor yet rascals. Nowt o' th' kind, ma'am, nowt o' th' kind. They've not doon me a kindness, ma'am, as I know and feel. But there's not a dozen men amoong 'em, ma'am a dozen? Not six but what believes as he has doon his duty by the ... | Hard Times |
"Now, my friend," | Josiah Bounderby | fawt is aw wi' us."<|quote|>"Now, my friend,"</|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby, whom he | An' I canna think the fawt is aw wi' us."<|quote|>"Now, my friend,"</|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby, whom he could not have exasperated more, | seems to turn us most to trouble an' misfort'n an' mistake, I dunno. But 'tis so. I know 'tis, as I know the heavens is over me ahint the smoke. We're patient too, an' wants in general to do right. An' I canna think the fawt is aw wi' us."<|quote|>"Now, my friend,"</|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby, whom he could not have ex... | Mr. Bounderby, "it's because they are so full of virtues that they have turned you adrift. Go through with it while you are about it. Out with it." "How 'tis, ma'am," resumed Stephen, appearing still to find his natural refuge in Louisa's face, "that what is best in us fok, seems to turn us most to trouble an' misfort'... | was faithful to his class under all their mistrust; but he fully remembered where he was, and did not even raise his voice. "No, ma'am, no. They're true to one another, faithfo' to one another, 'fectionate to one another, e'en to death. Be poor amoong 'em, be sick amoong 'em, grieve amoong 'em for onny o' th' monny cau... | rascals and rebels whom transportation is too good for! Now, Mr. Harthouse, you have been knocking about in the world some time. Did you ever meet with anything like that man out of this blessed country?" And Mr. Bounderby pointed him out for inspection, with an angry finger. "Nay, ma'am," said Stephen Blackpool, staun... | you believe it, that although they have put this mark upon him, he is such a slave to them still, that he's afraid to open his lips about them?" "I sed as I had nowt to sen, sir; not as I was fearfo' o' openin' my lips." "You said! Ah! _I_ know what you said; more than that, I know what you mean, you see. Not always th... | and instinctively addressing himself to Louisa, after glancing at her face. "Not rebels, nor yet rascals. Nowt o' th' kind, ma'am, nowt o' th' kind. They've not doon me a kindness, ma'am, as I know and feel. But there's not a dozen men amoong 'em, ma'am a dozen? Not six but what believes as he has doon his duty by the ... | Hard Times |
said Mr. Bounderby, whom he could not have exasperated more, quite unconscious of it though he was, than by seeming to appeal to any one else, | No speaker | wi' us." "Now, my friend,"<|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby, whom he could not have exasperated more, quite unconscious of it though he was, than by seeming to appeal to any one else,</|quote|>"if you will favour me | think the fawt is aw wi' us." "Now, my friend,"<|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby, whom he could not have exasperated more, quite unconscious of it though he was, than by seeming to appeal to any one else,</|quote|>"if you will favour me with your attention for half | us most to trouble an' misfort'n an' mistake, I dunno. But 'tis so. I know 'tis, as I know the heavens is over me ahint the smoke. We're patient too, an' wants in general to do right. An' I canna think the fawt is aw wi' us." "Now, my friend,"<|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby, whom he could not have exasperated more, quite u... | because they are so full of virtues that they have turned you adrift. Go through with it while you are about it. Out with it." "How 'tis, ma'am," resumed Stephen, appearing still to find his natural refuge in Louisa's face, "that what is best in us fok, seems to turn us most to trouble an' misfort'n an' mistake, I dunn... | his class under all their mistrust; but he fully remembered where he was, and did not even raise his voice. "No, ma'am, no. They're true to one another, faithfo' to one another, 'fectionate to one another, e'en to death. Be poor amoong 'em, be sick amoong 'em, grieve amoong 'em for onny o' th' monny causes that carries... | whom transportation is too good for! Now, Mr. Harthouse, you have been knocking about in the world some time. Did you ever meet with anything like that man out of this blessed country?" And Mr. Bounderby pointed him out for inspection, with an angry finger. "Nay, ma'am," said Stephen Blackpool, staunchly protesting aga... | that although they have put this mark upon him, he is such a slave to them still, that he's afraid to open his lips about them?" "I sed as I had nowt to sen, sir; not as I was fearfo' o' openin' my lips." "You said! Ah! _I_ know what you said; more than that, I know what you mean, you see. Not always the same thing, by... | put th' question an' not want'n t' be ill-manner'n I'll answer. I ha passed a promess." "Not to me, you know," said Bounderby. (Gusty weather with deceitful calms. One now prevailing.) "O no, sir. Not to yo." "As for me, any consideration for me has had just nothing at all to do with it," said Bounderby, still in confi... | Hard Times |
"if you will favour me with your attention for half a minute, I should like to have a word or two with you. You said just now, that you had nothing to tell us about this business. You are quite sure of that before we go any further." | Josiah Bounderby | appeal to any one else,<|quote|>"if you will favour me with your attention for half a minute, I should like to have a word or two with you. You said just now, that you had nothing to tell us about this business. You are quite sure of that before we go any further."</|quote|>"Sir, I am sure on | was, than by seeming to appeal to any one else,<|quote|>"if you will favour me with your attention for half a minute, I should like to have a word or two with you. You said just now, that you had nothing to tell us about this business. You are quite sure of that before we go any further."</|quote|>"Sir, I am sure on 't... | smoke. We're patient too, an' wants in general to do right. An' I canna think the fawt is aw wi' us." "Now, my friend," said Mr. Bounderby, whom he could not have exasperated more, quite unconscious of it though he was, than by seeming to appeal to any one else,<|quote|>"if you will favour me with your attention for ha... | 'tis, ma'am," resumed Stephen, appearing still to find his natural refuge in Louisa's face, "that what is best in us fok, seems to turn us most to trouble an' misfort'n an' mistake, I dunno. But 'tis so. I know 'tis, as I know the heavens is over me ahint the smoke. We're patient too, an' wants in general to do right. ... | one another, faithfo' to one another, 'fectionate to one another, e'en to death. Be poor amoong 'em, be sick amoong 'em, grieve amoong 'em for onny o' th' monny causes that carries grief to the poor man's door, an' they'll be tender wi' yo, gentle wi' yo, comfortable wi' yo, Chrisen wi' yo. Be sure o' that, ma'am. They... | that man out of this blessed country?" And Mr. Bounderby pointed him out for inspection, with an angry finger. "Nay, ma'am," said Stephen Blackpool, staunchly protesting against the words that had been used, and instinctively addressing himself to Louisa, after glancing at her face. "Not rebels, nor yet rascals. Nowt o... | "I sed as I had nowt to sen, sir; not as I was fearfo' o' openin' my lips." "You said! Ah! _I_ know what you said; more than that, I know what you mean, you see. Not always the same thing, by the Lord Harry! Quite different things. You had better tell us at once, that that fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirrin... | my life I, that ha' ett'n an' droonken wi' 'em, an' seet'n wi' 'em, and toil'n wi' 'em, and lov'n 'em, should fail fur to stan by 'em wi' the truth, let 'em ha' doon to me what they may!" He spoke with the rugged earnestness of his place and character deepened perhaps by a proud consciousness that he was faithful to hi... | Hard Times |
"Sir, I am sure on 't." | Stephen Blackpool | before we go any further."<|quote|>"Sir, I am sure on 't."</|quote|>"Here's a gentleman from London | are quite sure of that before we go any further."<|quote|>"Sir, I am sure on 't."</|quote|>"Here's a gentleman from London present," Mr. Bounderby made a | one else, "if you will favour me with your attention for half a minute, I should like to have a word or two with you. You said just now, that you had nothing to tell us about this business. You are quite sure of that before we go any further."<|quote|>"Sir, I am sure on 't."</|quote|>"Here's a gentleman from London pre... | ahint the smoke. We're patient too, an' wants in general to do right. An' I canna think the fawt is aw wi' us." "Now, my friend," said Mr. Bounderby, whom he could not have exasperated more, quite unconscious of it though he was, than by seeming to appeal to any one else, "if you will favour me with your attention for ... | wi' yo, Chrisen wi' yo. Be sure o' that, ma'am. They'd be riven to bits, ere ever they'd be different." "In short," said Mr. Bounderby, "it's because they are so full of virtues that they have turned you adrift. Go through with it while you are about it. Out with it." "How 'tis, ma'am," resumed Stephen, appearing still... | rascals. Nowt o' th' kind, ma'am, nowt o' th' kind. They've not doon me a kindness, ma'am, as I know and feel. But there's not a dozen men amoong 'em, ma'am a dozen? Not six but what believes as he has doon his duty by the rest and by himseln. God forbid as I, that ha' known, and had'n experience o' these men aw my lif... | You had better tell us at once, that that fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and that he is not a regular qualified leader of the people: that is, a most confounded scoundrel. You had better tell us so at once; you can't deceive me. You want to tell us so. Why don't you?" "I'm as s... | yet rascals. Nowt o' th' kind, ma'am, nowt o' th' kind. They've not doon me a kindness, ma'am, as I know and feel. But there's not a dozen men amoong 'em, ma'am a dozen? Not six but what believes as he has doon his duty by the rest and by himseln. God forbid as I, that ha' known, and had'n experience o' these men aw my... | Hard Times |
"Here's a gentleman from London present," | Josiah Bounderby | I am sure on 't."<|quote|>"Here's a gentleman from London present,"</|quote|>Mr. Bounderby made a backhanded | we go any further." "Sir, I am sure on 't."<|quote|>"Here's a gentleman from London present,"</|quote|>Mr. Bounderby made a backhanded point at Mr. James Harthouse | me with your attention for half a minute, I should like to have a word or two with you. You said just now, that you had nothing to tell us about this business. You are quite sure of that before we go any further." "Sir, I am sure on 't."<|quote|>"Here's a gentleman from London present,"</|quote|>Mr. Bounderby made a ba... | an' wants in general to do right. An' I canna think the fawt is aw wi' us." "Now, my friend," said Mr. Bounderby, whom he could not have exasperated more, quite unconscious of it though he was, than by seeming to appeal to any one else, "if you will favour me with your attention for half a minute, I should like to have... | sure o' that, ma'am. They'd be riven to bits, ere ever they'd be different." "In short," said Mr. Bounderby, "it's because they are so full of virtues that they have turned you adrift. Go through with it while you are about it. Out with it." "How 'tis, ma'am," resumed Stephen, appearing still to find his natural refuge... | nowt o' th' kind. They've not doon me a kindness, ma'am, as I know and feel. But there's not a dozen men amoong 'em, ma'am a dozen? Not six but what believes as he has doon his duty by the rest and by himseln. God forbid as I, that ha' known, and had'n experience o' these men aw my life I, that ha' ett'n an' droonken w... | once, that that fellow Slackbridge is not in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and that he is not a regular qualified leader of the people: that is, a most confounded scoundrel. You had better tell us so at once; you can't deceive me. You want to tell us so. Why don't you?" "I'm as sooary as yo, sir, when the... | yes, sir. 'Tis true." "Though he knows," said Mr. Bounderby, now blowing a gale, "that there are a set of rascals and rebels whom transportation is too good for! Now, Mr. Harthouse, you have been knocking about in the world some time. Did you ever meet with anything like that man out of this blessed country?" And Mr. B... | Hard Times |
Mr. Bounderby made a backhanded point at Mr. James Harthouse with his thumb, | No speaker | a gentleman from London present,"<|quote|>Mr. Bounderby made a backhanded point at Mr. James Harthouse with his thumb,</|quote|>"a Parliament gentleman. I should | am sure on 't." "Here's a gentleman from London present,"<|quote|>Mr. Bounderby made a backhanded point at Mr. James Harthouse with his thumb,</|quote|>"a Parliament gentleman. I should like him to hear a | a minute, I should like to have a word or two with you. You said just now, that you had nothing to tell us about this business. You are quite sure of that before we go any further." "Sir, I am sure on 't." "Here's a gentleman from London present,"<|quote|>Mr. Bounderby made a backhanded point at Mr. James Harthouse wit... | right. An' I canna think the fawt is aw wi' us." "Now, my friend," said Mr. Bounderby, whom he could not have exasperated more, quite unconscious of it though he was, than by seeming to appeal to any one else, "if you will favour me with your attention for half a minute, I should like to have a word or two with you. Yo... | riven to bits, ere ever they'd be different." "In short," said Mr. Bounderby, "it's because they are so full of virtues that they have turned you adrift. Go through with it while you are about it. Out with it." "How 'tis, ma'am," resumed Stephen, appearing still to find his natural refuge in Louisa's face, "that what i... | doon me a kindness, ma'am, as I know and feel. But there's not a dozen men amoong 'em, ma'am a dozen? Not six but what believes as he has doon his duty by the rest and by himseln. God forbid as I, that ha' known, and had'n experience o' these men aw my life I, that ha' ett'n an' droonken wi' 'em, an' seet'n wi' 'em, an... | not in the town, stirring up the people to mutiny; and that he is not a regular qualified leader of the people: that is, a most confounded scoundrel. You had better tell us so at once; you can't deceive me. You want to tell us so. Why don't you?" "I'm as sooary as yo, sir, when the people's leaders is bad," said Stephe... | I'll answer. I ha passed a promess." "Not to me, you know," said Bounderby. (Gusty weather with deceitful calms. One now prevailing.) "O no, sir. Not to yo." "As for me, any consideration for me has had just nothing at all to do with it," said Bounderby, still in confidence with the wall. "If only Josiah Bounderby of C... | Hard Times |
"a Parliament gentleman. I should like him to hear a short bit of dialogue between you and me, instead of taking the substance of it for I know precious well, beforehand, what it will be; nobody knows better than I do, take notice! instead of receiving it on trust from my mouth." | Josiah Bounderby | James Harthouse with his thumb,<|quote|>"a Parliament gentleman. I should like him to hear a short bit of dialogue between you and me, instead of taking the substance of it for I know precious well, beforehand, what it will be; nobody knows better than I do, take notice! instead of receiving it on trust from my mouth."... | a backhanded point at Mr. James Harthouse with his thumb,<|quote|>"a Parliament gentleman. I should like him to hear a short bit of dialogue between you and me, instead of taking the substance of it for I know precious well, beforehand, what it will be; nobody knows better than I do, take notice! instead of receiving i... | You said just now, that you had nothing to tell us about this business. You are quite sure of that before we go any further." "Sir, I am sure on 't." "Here's a gentleman from London present," Mr. Bounderby made a backhanded point at Mr. James Harthouse with his thumb,<|quote|>"a Parliament gentleman. I should like him ... | friend," said Mr. Bounderby, whom he could not have exasperated more, quite unconscious of it though he was, than by seeming to appeal to any one else, "if you will favour me with your attention for half a minute, I should like to have a word or two with you. You said just now, that you had nothing to tell us about thi... | "it's because they are so full of virtues that they have turned you adrift. Go through with it while you are about it. Out with it." "How 'tis, ma'am," resumed Stephen, appearing still to find his natural refuge in Louisa's face, "that what is best in us fok, seems to turn us most to trouble an' misfort'n an' mistake, ... | a dozen men amoong 'em, ma'am a dozen? Not six but what believes as he has doon his duty by the rest and by himseln. God forbid as I, that ha' known, and had'n experience o' these men aw my life I, that ha' ett'n an' droonken wi' 'em, an' seet'n wi' 'em, and toil'n wi' 'em, and lov'n 'em, should fail fur to stan by 'em... | is not a regular qualified leader of the people: that is, a most confounded scoundrel. You had better tell us so at once; you can't deceive me. You want to tell us so. Why don't you?" "I'm as sooary as yo, sir, when the people's leaders is bad," said Stephen, shaking his head. "They taks such as offers. Haply 'tis na' ... | at her face. "Not rebels, nor yet rascals. Nowt o' th' kind, ma'am, nowt o' th' kind. They've not doon me a kindness, ma'am, as I know and feel. But there's not a dozen men amoong 'em, ma'am a dozen? Not six but what believes as he has doon his duty by the rest and by himseln. God forbid as I, that ha' known, and had'n... | Hard Times |
Stephen bent his head to the gentleman from London, and showed a rather more troubled mind than usual. He turned his eyes involuntarily to his former refuge, but at a look from that quarter (expressive though instantaneous) he settled them on Mr. Bounderby's face. | No speaker | on trust from my mouth."<|quote|>Stephen bent his head to the gentleman from London, and showed a rather more troubled mind than usual. He turned his eyes involuntarily to his former refuge, but at a look from that quarter (expressive though instantaneous) he settled them on Mr. Bounderby's face.</|quote|>"Now, what do... | notice! instead of receiving it on trust from my mouth."<|quote|>Stephen bent his head to the gentleman from London, and showed a rather more troubled mind than usual. He turned his eyes involuntarily to his former refuge, but at a look from that quarter (expressive though instantaneous) he settled them on Mr. Bounderb... | gentleman. I should like him to hear a short bit of dialogue between you and me, instead of taking the substance of it for I know precious well, beforehand, what it will be; nobody knows better than I do, take notice! instead of receiving it on trust from my mouth."<|quote|>Stephen bent his head to the gentleman from L... | just now, that you had nothing to tell us about this business. You are quite sure of that before we go any further." "Sir, I am sure on 't." "Here's a gentleman from London present," Mr. Bounderby made a backhanded point at Mr. James Harthouse with his thumb, "a Parliament gentleman. I should like him to hear a short b... | most to trouble an' misfort'n an' mistake, I dunno. But 'tis so. I know 'tis, as I know the heavens is over me ahint the smoke. We're patient too, an' wants in general to do right. An' I canna think the fawt is aw wi' us." "Now, my friend," said Mr. Bounderby, whom he could not have exasperated more, quite unconscious ... | 'em, and toil'n wi' 'em, and lov'n 'em, should fail fur to stan by 'em wi' the truth, let 'em ha' doon to me what they may!" He spoke with the rugged earnestness of his place and character deepened perhaps by a proud consciousness that he was faithful to his class under all their mistrust; but he fully remembered where... | head. "They taks such as offers. Haply 'tis na' the sma'est o' their misfortuns when they can get no better." The wind began to get boisterous. "Now, you'll think this pretty well, Harthouse," said Mr. Bounderby. "You'll think this tolerably strong. You'll say, upon my soul this is a tidy specimen of what my friends ha... | still to find his natural refuge in Louisa's face, "that what is best in us fok, seems to turn us most to trouble an' misfort'n an' mistake, I dunno. But 'tis so. I know 'tis, as I know the heavens is over me ahint the smoke. We're patient too, an' wants in general to do right. An' I canna think the fawt is aw wi' us."... | Hard Times |
"Now, what do you complain of?" | Josiah Bounderby | them on Mr. Bounderby's face.<|quote|>"Now, what do you complain of?"</|quote|>asked Mr. Bounderby. "I ha' | (expressive though instantaneous) he settled them on Mr. Bounderby's face.<|quote|>"Now, what do you complain of?"</|quote|>asked Mr. Bounderby. "I ha' not coom here, sir," Stephen | it on trust from my mouth." Stephen bent his head to the gentleman from London, and showed a rather more troubled mind than usual. He turned his eyes involuntarily to his former refuge, but at a look from that quarter (expressive though instantaneous) he settled them on Mr. Bounderby's face.<|quote|>"Now, what do you c... | Harthouse with his thumb, "a Parliament gentleman. I should like him to hear a short bit of dialogue between you and me, instead of taking the substance of it for I know precious well, beforehand, what it will be; nobody knows better than I do, take notice! instead of receiving it on trust from my mouth." Stephen bent ... | wi' us." "Now, my friend," said Mr. Bounderby, whom he could not have exasperated more, quite unconscious of it though he was, than by seeming to appeal to any one else, "if you will favour me with your attention for half a minute, I should like to have a word or two with you. You said just now, that you had nothing to... | that he was faithful to his class under all their mistrust; but he fully remembered where he was, and did not even raise his voice. "No, ma'am, no. They're true to one another, faithfo' to one another, 'fectionate to one another, e'en to death. Be poor amoong 'em, be sick amoong 'em, grieve amoong 'em for onny o' th' m... | my soul this is a tidy specimen of what my friends have to deal with; but this is nothing, sir! You shall hear me ask this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool" wind springing up very fast "may I take the liberty of asking you how it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?" "How 't happens?" "Ah!" said Mr. B... | let 'em ha' doon to me what they may!" He spoke with the rugged earnestness of his place and character deepened perhaps by a proud consciousness that he was faithful to his class under all their mistrust; but he fully remembered where he was, and did not even raise his voice. "No, ma'am, no. They're true to one another... | Hard Times |
asked Mr. Bounderby. | No speaker | what do you complain of?"<|quote|>asked Mr. Bounderby.</|quote|>"I ha' not coom here, | on Mr. Bounderby's face. "Now, what do you complain of?"<|quote|>asked Mr. Bounderby.</|quote|>"I ha' not coom here, sir," Stephen reminded him, "to | Stephen bent his head to the gentleman from London, and showed a rather more troubled mind than usual. He turned his eyes involuntarily to his former refuge, but at a look from that quarter (expressive though instantaneous) he settled them on Mr. Bounderby's face. "Now, what do you complain of?"<|quote|>asked Mr. Bound... | gentleman. I should like him to hear a short bit of dialogue between you and me, instead of taking the substance of it for I know precious well, beforehand, what it will be; nobody knows better than I do, take notice! instead of receiving it on trust from my mouth." Stephen bent his head to the gentleman from London, a... | Mr. Bounderby, whom he could not have exasperated more, quite unconscious of it though he was, than by seeming to appeal to any one else, "if you will favour me with your attention for half a minute, I should like to have a word or two with you. You said just now, that you had nothing to tell us about this business. Yo... | class under all their mistrust; but he fully remembered where he was, and did not even raise his voice. "No, ma'am, no. They're true to one another, faithfo' to one another, 'fectionate to one another, e'en to death. Be poor amoong 'em, be sick amoong 'em, grieve amoong 'em for onny o' th' monny causes that carries gri... | specimen of what my friends have to deal with; but this is nothing, sir! You shall hear me ask this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool" wind springing up very fast "may I take the liberty of asking you how it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?" "How 't happens?" "Ah!" said Mr. Bounderby, with his thum... | "that what is best in us fok, seems to turn us most to trouble an' misfort'n an' mistake, I dunno. But 'tis so. I know 'tis, as I know the heavens is over me ahint the smoke. We're patient too, an' wants in general to do right. An' I canna think the fawt is aw wi' us." "Now, my friend," said Mr. Bounderby, whom he coul... | Hard Times |
"I ha' not coom here, sir," | Stephen Blackpool | complain of?" asked Mr. Bounderby.<|quote|>"I ha' not coom here, sir,"</|quote|>Stephen reminded him, "to complain. | face. "Now, what do you complain of?" asked Mr. Bounderby.<|quote|>"I ha' not coom here, sir,"</|quote|>Stephen reminded him, "to complain. I coom for that I | head to the gentleman from London, and showed a rather more troubled mind than usual. He turned his eyes involuntarily to his former refuge, but at a look from that quarter (expressive though instantaneous) he settled them on Mr. Bounderby's face. "Now, what do you complain of?" asked Mr. Bounderby.<|quote|>"I ha' not ... | like him to hear a short bit of dialogue between you and me, instead of taking the substance of it for I know precious well, beforehand, what it will be; nobody knows better than I do, take notice! instead of receiving it on trust from my mouth." Stephen bent his head to the gentleman from London, and showed a rather m... | he could not have exasperated more, quite unconscious of it though he was, than by seeming to appeal to any one else, "if you will favour me with your attention for half a minute, I should like to have a word or two with you. You said just now, that you had nothing to tell us about this business. You are quite sure of ... | their mistrust; but he fully remembered where he was, and did not even raise his voice. "No, ma'am, no. They're true to one another, faithfo' to one another, 'fectionate to one another, e'en to death. Be poor amoong 'em, be sick amoong 'em, grieve amoong 'em for onny o' th' monny causes that carries grief to the poor m... | my friends have to deal with; but this is nothing, sir! You shall hear me ask this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool" wind springing up very fast "may I take the liberty of asking you how it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?" "How 't happens?" "Ah!" said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms of... | think the fawt is aw wi' us." "Now, my friend," said Mr. Bounderby, whom he could not have exasperated more, quite unconscious of it though he was, than by seeming to appeal to any one else, "if you will favour me with your attention for half a minute, I should like to have a word or two with you. You said just now, th... | Hard Times |
Stephen reminded him, | No speaker | ha' not coom here, sir,"<|quote|>Stephen reminded him,</|quote|>"to complain. I coom for | of?" asked Mr. Bounderby. "I ha' not coom here, sir,"<|quote|>Stephen reminded him,</|quote|>"to complain. I coom for that I were sent for." | and showed a rather more troubled mind than usual. He turned his eyes involuntarily to his former refuge, but at a look from that quarter (expressive though instantaneous) he settled them on Mr. Bounderby's face. "Now, what do you complain of?" asked Mr. Bounderby. "I ha' not coom here, sir,"<|quote|>Stephen reminded h... | bit of dialogue between you and me, instead of taking the substance of it for I know precious well, beforehand, what it will be; nobody knows better than I do, take notice! instead of receiving it on trust from my mouth." Stephen bent his head to the gentleman from London, and showed a rather more troubled mind than us... | quite unconscious of it though he was, than by seeming to appeal to any one else, "if you will favour me with your attention for half a minute, I should like to have a word or two with you. You said just now, that you had nothing to tell us about this business. You are quite sure of that before we go any further." "Sir... | where he was, and did not even raise his voice. "No, ma'am, no. They're true to one another, faithfo' to one another, 'fectionate to one another, e'en to death. Be poor amoong 'em, be sick amoong 'em, grieve amoong 'em for onny o' th' monny causes that carries grief to the poor man's door, an' they'll be tender wi' yo,... | but this is nothing, sir! You shall hear me ask this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool" wind springing up very fast "may I take the liberty of asking you how it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?" "How 't happens?" "Ah!" said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms of his coat, and jerking his hea... | and did not even raise his voice. "No, ma'am, no. They're true to one another, faithfo' to one another, 'fectionate to one another, e'en to death. Be poor amoong 'em, be sick amoong 'em, grieve amoong 'em for onny o' th' monny causes that carries grief to the poor man's door, an' they'll be tender wi' yo, gentle wi' yo... | Hard Times |
"to complain. I coom for that I were sent for." | Stephen Blackpool | here, sir," Stephen reminded him,<|quote|>"to complain. I coom for that I were sent for."</|quote|>"What," repeated Mr. Bounderby, folding | Bounderby. "I ha' not coom here, sir," Stephen reminded him,<|quote|>"to complain. I coom for that I were sent for."</|quote|>"What," repeated Mr. Bounderby, folding his arms, "do you people, | rather more troubled mind than usual. He turned his eyes involuntarily to his former refuge, but at a look from that quarter (expressive though instantaneous) he settled them on Mr. Bounderby's face. "Now, what do you complain of?" asked Mr. Bounderby. "I ha' not coom here, sir," Stephen reminded him,<|quote|>"to compl... | between you and me, instead of taking the substance of it for I know precious well, beforehand, what it will be; nobody knows better than I do, take notice! instead of receiving it on trust from my mouth." Stephen bent his head to the gentleman from London, and showed a rather more troubled mind than usual. He turned h... | it though he was, than by seeming to appeal to any one else, "if you will favour me with your attention for half a minute, I should like to have a word or two with you. You said just now, that you had nothing to tell us about this business. You are quite sure of that before we go any further." "Sir, I am sure on 't." "... | and did not even raise his voice. "No, ma'am, no. They're true to one another, faithfo' to one another, 'fectionate to one another, e'en to death. Be poor amoong 'em, be sick amoong 'em, grieve amoong 'em for onny o' th' monny causes that carries grief to the poor man's door, an' they'll be tender wi' yo, gentle wi' yo... | nothing, sir! You shall hear me ask this man a question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool" wind springing up very fast "may I take the liberty of asking you how it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?" "How 't happens?" "Ah!" said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms of his coat, and jerking his head and shutti... | turned you adrift. Go through with it while you are about it. Out with it." "How 'tis, ma'am," resumed Stephen, appearing still to find his natural refuge in Louisa's face, "that what is best in us fok, seems to turn us most to trouble an' misfort'n an' mistake, I dunno. But 'tis so. I know 'tis, as I know the heavens ... | Hard Times |
"What," | Josiah Bounderby | that I were sent for."<|quote|>"What,"</|quote|>repeated Mr. Bounderby, folding his | "to complain. I coom for that I were sent for."<|quote|>"What,"</|quote|>repeated Mr. Bounderby, folding his arms, "do you people, in | involuntarily to his former refuge, but at a look from that quarter (expressive though instantaneous) he settled them on Mr. Bounderby's face. "Now, what do you complain of?" asked Mr. Bounderby. "I ha' not coom here, sir," Stephen reminded him, "to complain. I coom for that I were sent for."<|quote|>"What,"</|quote|>r... | it for I know precious well, beforehand, what it will be; nobody knows better than I do, take notice! instead of receiving it on trust from my mouth." Stephen bent his head to the gentleman from London, and showed a rather more troubled mind than usual. He turned his eyes involuntarily to his former refuge, but at a lo... | any one else, "if you will favour me with your attention for half a minute, I should like to have a word or two with you. You said just now, that you had nothing to tell us about this business. You are quite sure of that before we go any further." "Sir, I am sure on 't." "Here's a gentleman from London present," Mr. Bo... | They're true to one another, faithfo' to one another, 'fectionate to one another, e'en to death. Be poor amoong 'em, be sick amoong 'em, grieve amoong 'em for onny o' th' monny causes that carries grief to the poor man's door, an' they'll be tender wi' yo, gentle wi' yo, comfortable wi' yo, Chrisen wi' yo. Be sure o' t... | question. Pray, Mr. Blackpool" wind springing up very fast "may I take the liberty of asking you how it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?" "How 't happens?" "Ah!" said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms of his coat, and jerking his head and shutting his eyes in confidence with the opposite wal... | has doon his duty by the rest and by himseln. God forbid as I, that ha' known, and had'n experience o' these men aw my life I, that ha' ett'n an' droonken wi' 'em, an' seet'n wi' 'em, and toil'n wi' 'em, and lov'n 'em, should fail fur to stan by 'em wi' the truth, let 'em ha' doon to me what they may!" He spoke with th... | Hard Times |
repeated Mr. Bounderby, folding his arms, | No speaker | I were sent for." "What,"<|quote|>repeated Mr. Bounderby, folding his arms,</|quote|>"do you people, in a | complain. I coom for that I were sent for." "What,"<|quote|>repeated Mr. Bounderby, folding his arms,</|quote|>"do you people, in a general way, complain of?" Stephen | to his former refuge, but at a look from that quarter (expressive though instantaneous) he settled them on Mr. Bounderby's face. "Now, what do you complain of?" asked Mr. Bounderby. "I ha' not coom here, sir," Stephen reminded him, "to complain. I coom for that I were sent for." "What,"<|quote|>repeated Mr. Bounderby, ... | for I know precious well, beforehand, what it will be; nobody knows better than I do, take notice! instead of receiving it on trust from my mouth." Stephen bent his head to the gentleman from London, and showed a rather more troubled mind than usual. He turned his eyes involuntarily to his former refuge, but at a look ... | one else, "if you will favour me with your attention for half a minute, I should like to have a word or two with you. You said just now, that you had nothing to tell us about this business. You are quite sure of that before we go any further." "Sir, I am sure on 't." "Here's a gentleman from London present," Mr. Bounde... | true to one another, faithfo' to one another, 'fectionate to one another, e'en to death. Be poor amoong 'em, be sick amoong 'em, grieve amoong 'em for onny o' th' monny causes that carries grief to the poor man's door, an' they'll be tender wi' yo, gentle wi' yo, comfortable wi' yo, Chrisen wi' yo. Be sure o' that, ma'... | Pray, Mr. Blackpool" wind springing up very fast "may I take the liberty of asking you how it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?" "How 't happens?" "Ah!" said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms of his coat, and jerking his head and shutting his eyes in confidence with the opposite wall: "how it... | do right. An' I canna think the fawt is aw wi' us." "Now, my friend," said Mr. Bounderby, whom he could not have exasperated more, quite unconscious of it though he was, than by seeming to appeal to any one else, "if you will favour me with your attention for half a minute, I should like to have a word or two with you.... | Hard Times |
"do you people, in a general way, complain of?" | Josiah Bounderby | Mr. Bounderby, folding his arms,<|quote|>"do you people, in a general way, complain of?"</|quote|>Stephen looked at him with | were sent for." "What," repeated Mr. Bounderby, folding his arms,<|quote|>"do you people, in a general way, complain of?"</|quote|>Stephen looked at him with some little irresolution for a | a look from that quarter (expressive though instantaneous) he settled them on Mr. Bounderby's face. "Now, what do you complain of?" asked Mr. Bounderby. "I ha' not coom here, sir," Stephen reminded him, "to complain. I coom for that I were sent for." "What," repeated Mr. Bounderby, folding his arms,<|quote|>"do you peo... | what it will be; nobody knows better than I do, take notice! instead of receiving it on trust from my mouth." Stephen bent his head to the gentleman from London, and showed a rather more troubled mind than usual. He turned his eyes involuntarily to his former refuge, but at a look from that quarter (expressive though i... | me with your attention for half a minute, I should like to have a word or two with you. You said just now, that you had nothing to tell us about this business. You are quite sure of that before we go any further." "Sir, I am sure on 't." "Here's a gentleman from London present," Mr. Bounderby made a backhanded point at... | one another, 'fectionate to one another, e'en to death. Be poor amoong 'em, be sick amoong 'em, grieve amoong 'em for onny o' th' monny causes that carries grief to the poor man's door, an' they'll be tender wi' yo, gentle wi' yo, comfortable wi' yo, Chrisen wi' yo. Be sure o' that, ma'am. They'd be riven to bits, ere ... | very fast "may I take the liberty of asking you how it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?" "How 't happens?" "Ah!" said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms of his coat, and jerking his head and shutting his eyes in confidence with the opposite wall: "how it happens." "I'd leefer not coom to 't, ... | sure o' that, ma'am. They'd be riven to bits, ere ever they'd be different." "In short," said Mr. Bounderby, "it's because they are so full of virtues that they have turned you adrift. Go through with it while you are about it. Out with it." "How 'tis, ma'am," resumed Stephen, appearing still to find his natural refuge... | Hard Times |
Stephen looked at him with some little irresolution for a moment, and then seemed to make up his mind. | No speaker | a general way, complain of?"<|quote|>Stephen looked at him with some little irresolution for a moment, and then seemed to make up his mind.</|quote|>"Sir, I were never good | arms, "do you people, in a general way, complain of?"<|quote|>Stephen looked at him with some little irresolution for a moment, and then seemed to make up his mind.</|quote|>"Sir, I were never good at showin o 't, though | settled them on Mr. Bounderby's face. "Now, what do you complain of?" asked Mr. Bounderby. "I ha' not coom here, sir," Stephen reminded him, "to complain. I coom for that I were sent for." "What," repeated Mr. Bounderby, folding his arms, "do you people, in a general way, complain of?"<|quote|>Stephen looked at him wit... | do, take notice! instead of receiving it on trust from my mouth." Stephen bent his head to the gentleman from London, and showed a rather more troubled mind than usual. He turned his eyes involuntarily to his former refuge, but at a look from that quarter (expressive though instantaneous) he settled them on Mr. Bounder... | should like to have a word or two with you. You said just now, that you had nothing to tell us about this business. You are quite sure of that before we go any further." "Sir, I am sure on 't." "Here's a gentleman from London present," Mr. Bounderby made a backhanded point at Mr. James Harthouse with his thumb, "a Parl... | Be poor amoong 'em, be sick amoong 'em, grieve amoong 'em for onny o' th' monny causes that carries grief to the poor man's door, an' they'll be tender wi' yo, gentle wi' yo, comfortable wi' yo, Chrisen wi' yo. Be sure o' that, ma'am. They'd be riven to bits, ere ever they'd be different." "In short," said Mr. Bounderb... | you how it happens that you refused to be in this Combination?" "How 't happens?" "Ah!" said Mr. Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms of his coat, and jerking his head and shutting his eyes in confidence with the opposite wall: "how it happens." "I'd leefer not coom to 't, sir; but sin you put th' question an' not wa... | you will favour me with your attention for half a minute, I should like to have a word or two with you. You said just now, that you had nothing to tell us about this business. You are quite sure of that before we go any further." "Sir, I am sure on 't." "Here's a gentleman from London present," Mr. Bounderby made a bac... | Hard Times |
"Sir, I were never good at showin o 't, though I ha had'n my share in feeling o 't. 'Deed we are in a muddle, sir. Look round town so rich as 'tis and see the numbers o' people as has been broughten into bein heer, fur to weave, an' to card, an' to piece out a livin', aw the same one way, somehows, 'twixt their cradles... | Stephen Blackpool | to make up his mind.<|quote|>"Sir, I were never good at showin o 't, though I ha had'n my share in feeling o 't. 'Deed we are in a muddle, sir. Look round town so rich as 'tis and see the numbers o' people as has been broughten into bein heer, fur to weave, an' to card, an' to piece out a livin', aw the same one way, s... | a moment, and then seemed to make up his mind.<|quote|>"Sir, I were never good at showin o 't, though I ha had'n my share in feeling o 't. 'Deed we are in a muddle, sir. Look round town so rich as 'tis and see the numbers o' people as has been broughten into bein heer, fur to weave, an' to card, an' to piece out a livi... | here, sir," Stephen reminded him, "to complain. I coom for that I were sent for." "What," repeated Mr. Bounderby, folding his arms, "do you people, in a general way, complain of?" Stephen looked at him with some little irresolution for a moment, and then seemed to make up his mind.<|quote|>"Sir, I were never good at sh... | from London, and showed a rather more troubled mind than usual. He turned his eyes involuntarily to his former refuge, but at a look from that quarter (expressive though instantaneous) he settled them on Mr. Bounderby's face. "Now, what do you complain of?" asked Mr. Bounderby. "I ha' not coom here, sir," Stephen remin... | tell us about this business. You are quite sure of that before we go any further." "Sir, I am sure on 't." "Here's a gentleman from London present," Mr. Bounderby made a backhanded point at Mr. James Harthouse with his thumb, "a Parliament gentleman. I should like him to hear a short bit of dialogue between you and me,... | grief to the poor man's door, an' they'll be tender wi' yo, gentle wi' yo, comfortable wi' yo, Chrisen wi' yo. Be sure o' that, ma'am. They'd be riven to bits, ere ever they'd be different." "In short," said Mr. Bounderby, "it's because they are so full of virtues that they have turned you adrift. Go through with it wh... | with his thumbs in the arms of his coat, and jerking his head and shutting his eyes in confidence with the opposite wall: "how it happens." "I'd leefer not coom to 't, sir; but sin you put th' question an' not want'n t' be ill-manner'n I'll answer. I ha passed a promess." "Not to me, you know," said Bounderby. (Gusty w... | did not even raise his voice. "No, ma'am, no. They're true to one another, faithfo' to one another, 'fectionate to one another, e'en to death. Be poor amoong 'em, be sick amoong 'em, grieve amoong 'em for onny o' th' monny causes that carries grief to the poor man's door, an' they'll be tender wi' yo, gentle wi' yo, co... | Hard Times |
"Of course," | Josiah Bounderby | man 'tis not a muddle?"<|quote|>"Of course,"</|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby. "Now perhaps | sir, and fairly tell a man 'tis not a muddle?"<|quote|>"Of course,"</|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby. "Now perhaps you'll let the gentleman know, | had'n no reason in us sin ever we were born. Look how this ha growen an' growen, sir, bigger an' bigger, broader an' broader, harder an' harder, fro year to year, fro generation unto generation. Who can look on 't, sir, and fairly tell a man 'tis not a muddle?"<|quote|>"Of course,"</|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby. "Now per... | us no nigher to ony dis'ant object ceptin awlus, Death. Look how you considers of us, and writes of us, and talks of us, and goes up wi' yor deputations to Secretaries o' State 'bout us, and how yo are awlus right, and how we are awlus wrong, and never had'n no reason in us sin ever we were born. Look how this ha growe... | good at showin o 't, though I ha had'n my share in feeling o 't. 'Deed we are in a muddle, sir. Look round town so rich as 'tis and see the numbers o' people as has been broughten into bein heer, fur to weave, an' to card, an' to piece out a livin', aw the same one way, somehows, 'twixt their cradles and their graves. ... | business. You are quite sure of that before we go any further." "Sir, I am sure on 't." "Here's a gentleman from London present," Mr. Bounderby made a backhanded point at Mr. James Harthouse with his thumb, "a Parliament gentleman. I should like him to hear a short bit of dialogue between you and me, instead of taking ... | himself to Louisa, after glancing at her face. "Not rebels, nor yet rascals. Nowt o' th' kind, ma'am, nowt o' th' kind. They've not doon me a kindness, ma'am, as I know and feel. But there's not a dozen men amoong 'em, ma'am a dozen? Not six but what believes as he has doon his duty by the rest and by himseln. God forb... | the fawt is aw wi' us." "Now, my friend," said Mr. Bounderby, whom he could not have exasperated more, quite unconscious of it though he was, than by seeming to appeal to any one else, "if you will favour me with your attention for half a minute, I should like to have a word or two with you. You said just now, that you... | Hard Times |
said Mr. Bounderby. | No speaker | not a muddle?" "Of course,"<|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby.</|quote|>"Now perhaps you'll let the | fairly tell a man 'tis not a muddle?" "Of course,"<|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby.</|quote|>"Now perhaps you'll let the gentleman know, how you would | reason in us sin ever we were born. Look how this ha growen an' growen, sir, bigger an' bigger, broader an' broader, harder an' harder, fro year to year, fro generation unto generation. Who can look on 't, sir, and fairly tell a man 'tis not a muddle?" "Of course,"<|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby.</|quote|>"Now perhaps you'... | nigher to ony dis'ant object ceptin awlus, Death. Look how you considers of us, and writes of us, and talks of us, and goes up wi' yor deputations to Secretaries o' State 'bout us, and how yo are awlus right, and how we are awlus wrong, and never had'n no reason in us sin ever we were born. Look how this ha growen an' ... | showin o 't, though I ha had'n my share in feeling o 't. 'Deed we are in a muddle, sir. Look round town so rich as 'tis and see the numbers o' people as has been broughten into bein heer, fur to weave, an' to card, an' to piece out a livin', aw the same one way, somehows, 'twixt their cradles and their graves. Look how... | are quite sure of that before we go any further." "Sir, I am sure on 't." "Here's a gentleman from London present," Mr. Bounderby made a backhanded point at Mr. James Harthouse with his thumb, "a Parliament gentleman. I should like him to hear a short bit of dialogue between you and me, instead of taking the substance ... | Louisa, after glancing at her face. "Not rebels, nor yet rascals. Nowt o' th' kind, ma'am, nowt o' th' kind. They've not doon me a kindness, ma'am, as I know and feel. But there's not a dozen men amoong 'em, ma'am a dozen? Not six but what believes as he has doon his duty by the rest and by himseln. God forbid as I, th... | that I were sent for." "What," repeated Mr. Bounderby, folding his arms, "do you people, in a general way, complain of?" Stephen looked at him with some little irresolution for a moment, and then seemed to make up his mind. "Sir, I were never good at showin o 't, though I ha had'n my share in feeling o 't. 'Deed we are... | Hard Times |
"Now perhaps you'll let the gentleman know, how you would set this muddle (as you're so fond of calling it) to rights." | Josiah Bounderby | "Of course," said Mr. Bounderby.<|quote|>"Now perhaps you'll let the gentleman know, how you would set this muddle (as you're so fond of calling it) to rights."</|quote|>"I donno, sir. I canna | man 'tis not a muddle?" "Of course," said Mr. Bounderby.<|quote|>"Now perhaps you'll let the gentleman know, how you would set this muddle (as you're so fond of calling it) to rights."</|quote|>"I donno, sir. I canna be expecten to 't. 'Tis | sin ever we were born. Look how this ha growen an' growen, sir, bigger an' bigger, broader an' broader, harder an' harder, fro year to year, fro generation unto generation. Who can look on 't, sir, and fairly tell a man 'tis not a muddle?" "Of course," said Mr. Bounderby.<|quote|>"Now perhaps you'll let the gentleman k... | dis'ant object ceptin awlus, Death. Look how you considers of us, and writes of us, and talks of us, and goes up wi' yor deputations to Secretaries o' State 'bout us, and how yo are awlus right, and how we are awlus wrong, and never had'n no reason in us sin ever we were born. Look how this ha growen an' growen, sir, b... | though I ha had'n my share in feeling o 't. 'Deed we are in a muddle, sir. Look round town so rich as 'tis and see the numbers o' people as has been broughten into bein heer, fur to weave, an' to card, an' to piece out a livin', aw the same one way, somehows, 'twixt their cradles and their graves. Look how we live, an'... | of that before we go any further." "Sir, I am sure on 't." "Here's a gentleman from London present," Mr. Bounderby made a backhanded point at Mr. James Harthouse with his thumb, "a Parliament gentleman. I should like him to hear a short bit of dialogue between you and me, instead of taking the substance of it for I kno... | at her face. "Not rebels, nor yet rascals. Nowt o' th' kind, ma'am, nowt o' th' kind. They've not doon me a kindness, ma'am, as I know and feel. But there's not a dozen men amoong 'em, ma'am a dozen? Not six but what believes as he has doon his duty by the rest and by himseln. God forbid as I, that ha' known, and had'n... | gentleman from London present," Mr. Bounderby made a backhanded point at Mr. James Harthouse with his thumb, "a Parliament gentleman. I should like him to hear a short bit of dialogue between you and me, instead of taking the substance of it for I know precious well, beforehand, what it will be; nobody knows better tha... | Hard Times |
"I donno, sir. I canna be expecten to 't. 'Tis not me as should be looken to for that, sir. 'Tis them as is put ower me, and ower aw the rest of us. What do they tak upon themseln, sir, if not to do't?" | Stephen Blackpool | of calling it) to rights."<|quote|>"I donno, sir. I canna be expecten to 't. 'Tis not me as should be looken to for that, sir. 'Tis them as is put ower me, and ower aw the rest of us. What do they tak upon themseln, sir, if not to do't?"</|quote|>"I'll tell you something towards | muddle (as you're so fond of calling it) to rights."<|quote|>"I donno, sir. I canna be expecten to 't. 'Tis not me as should be looken to for that, sir. 'Tis them as is put ower me, and ower aw the rest of us. What do they tak upon themseln, sir, if not to do't?"</|quote|>"I'll tell you something towards it, at any rat... | fro year to year, fro generation unto generation. Who can look on 't, sir, and fairly tell a man 'tis not a muddle?" "Of course," said Mr. Bounderby. "Now perhaps you'll let the gentleman know, how you would set this muddle (as you're so fond of calling it) to rights."<|quote|>"I donno, sir. I canna be expecten to 't. ... | wi' yor deputations to Secretaries o' State 'bout us, and how yo are awlus right, and how we are awlus wrong, and never had'n no reason in us sin ever we were born. Look how this ha growen an' growen, sir, bigger an' bigger, broader an' broader, harder an' harder, fro year to year, fro generation unto generation. Who c... | as 'tis and see the numbers o' people as has been broughten into bein heer, fur to weave, an' to card, an' to piece out a livin', aw the same one way, somehows, 'twixt their cradles and their graves. Look how we live, an' wheer we live, an' in what numbers, an' by what chances, and wi' what sameness; and look how the m... | a backhanded point at Mr. James Harthouse with his thumb, "a Parliament gentleman. I should like him to hear a short bit of dialogue between you and me, instead of taking the substance of it for I know precious well, beforehand, what it will be; nobody knows better than I do, take notice! instead of receiving it on tru... | kindness, ma'am, as I know and feel. But there's not a dozen men amoong 'em, ma'am a dozen? Not six but what believes as he has doon his duty by the rest and by himseln. God forbid as I, that ha' known, and had'n experience o' these men aw my life I, that ha' ett'n an' droonken wi' 'em, an' seet'n wi' 'em, and toil'n w... | receiving it on trust from my mouth." Stephen bent his head to the gentleman from London, and showed a rather more troubled mind than usual. He turned his eyes involuntarily to his former refuge, but at a look from that quarter (expressive though instantaneous) he settled them on Mr. Bounderby's face. "Now, what do you... | Hard Times |
"I'll tell you something towards it, at any rate," | Josiah Bounderby | sir, if not to do't?"<|quote|>"I'll tell you something towards it, at any rate,"</|quote|>returned Mr. Bounderby. "We will | do they tak upon themseln, sir, if not to do't?"<|quote|>"I'll tell you something towards it, at any rate,"</|quote|>returned Mr. Bounderby. "We will make an example of half | of calling it) to rights." "I donno, sir. I canna be expecten to 't. 'Tis not me as should be looken to for that, sir. 'Tis them as is put ower me, and ower aw the rest of us. What do they tak upon themseln, sir, if not to do't?"<|quote|>"I'll tell you something towards it, at any rate,"</|quote|>returned Mr. Bounderby... | an' broader, harder an' harder, fro year to year, fro generation unto generation. Who can look on 't, sir, and fairly tell a man 'tis not a muddle?" "Of course," said Mr. Bounderby. "Now perhaps you'll let the gentleman know, how you would set this muddle (as you're so fond of calling it) to rights." "I donno, sir. I c... | we live, an' in what numbers, an' by what chances, and wi' what sameness; and look how the mills is awlus a goin, and how they never works us no nigher to ony dis'ant object ceptin awlus, Death. Look how you considers of us, and writes of us, and talks of us, and goes up wi' yor deputations to Secretaries o' State 'bou... | nobody knows better than I do, take notice! instead of receiving it on trust from my mouth." Stephen bent his head to the gentleman from London, and showed a rather more troubled mind than usual. He turned his eyes involuntarily to his former refuge, but at a look from that quarter (expressive though instantaneous) he ... | o' these men aw my life I, that ha' ett'n an' droonken wi' 'em, an' seet'n wi' 'em, and toil'n wi' 'em, and lov'n 'em, should fail fur to stan by 'em wi' the truth, let 'em ha' doon to me what they may!" He spoke with the rugged earnestness of his place and character deepened perhaps by a proud consciousness that he wa... | for half a minute, I should like to have a word or two with you. You said just now, that you had nothing to tell us about this business. You are quite sure of that before we go any further." "Sir, I am sure on 't." "Here's a gentleman from London present," Mr. Bounderby made a backhanded point at Mr. James Harthouse wi... | Hard Times |
returned Mr. Bounderby. | No speaker | towards it, at any rate,"<|quote|>returned Mr. Bounderby.</|quote|>"We will make an example | do't?" "I'll tell you something towards it, at any rate,"<|quote|>returned Mr. Bounderby.</|quote|>"We will make an example of half a dozen Slackbridges. | canna be expecten to 't. 'Tis not me as should be looken to for that, sir. 'Tis them as is put ower me, and ower aw the rest of us. What do they tak upon themseln, sir, if not to do't?" "I'll tell you something towards it, at any rate,"<|quote|>returned Mr. Bounderby.</|quote|>"We will make an example of half a dozen S... | fro generation unto generation. Who can look on 't, sir, and fairly tell a man 'tis not a muddle?" "Of course," said Mr. Bounderby. "Now perhaps you'll let the gentleman know, how you would set this muddle (as you're so fond of calling it) to rights." "I donno, sir. I canna be expecten to 't. 'Tis not me as should be l... | chances, and wi' what sameness; and look how the mills is awlus a goin, and how they never works us no nigher to ony dis'ant object ceptin awlus, Death. Look how you considers of us, and writes of us, and talks of us, and goes up wi' yor deputations to Secretaries o' State 'bout us, and how yo are awlus right, and how ... | of receiving it on trust from my mouth." Stephen bent his head to the gentleman from London, and showed a rather more troubled mind than usual. He turned his eyes involuntarily to his former refuge, but at a look from that quarter (expressive though instantaneous) he settled them on Mr. Bounderby's face. "Now, what do ... | ett'n an' droonken wi' 'em, an' seet'n wi' 'em, and toil'n wi' 'em, and lov'n 'em, should fail fur to stan by 'em wi' the truth, let 'em ha' doon to me what they may!" He spoke with the rugged earnestness of his place and character deepened perhaps by a proud consciousness that he was faithful to his class under all th... | not have exasperated more, quite unconscious of it though he was, than by seeming to appeal to any one else, "if you will favour me with your attention for half a minute, I should like to have a word or two with you. You said just now, that you had nothing to tell us about this business. You are quite sure of that befo... | Hard Times |
"We will make an example of half a dozen Slackbridges. We'll indict the blackguards for felony, and get 'em shipped off to penal settlements." | Josiah Bounderby | any rate," returned Mr. Bounderby.<|quote|>"We will make an example of half a dozen Slackbridges. We'll indict the blackguards for felony, and get 'em shipped off to penal settlements."</|quote|>Stephen gravely shook his head. | you something towards it, at any rate," returned Mr. Bounderby.<|quote|>"We will make an example of half a dozen Slackbridges. We'll indict the blackguards for felony, and get 'em shipped off to penal settlements."</|quote|>Stephen gravely shook his head. "Don't tell me we won't, | to 't. 'Tis not me as should be looken to for that, sir. 'Tis them as is put ower me, and ower aw the rest of us. What do they tak upon themseln, sir, if not to do't?" "I'll tell you something towards it, at any rate," returned Mr. Bounderby.<|quote|>"We will make an example of half a dozen Slackbridges. We'll indict t... | generation. Who can look on 't, sir, and fairly tell a man 'tis not a muddle?" "Of course," said Mr. Bounderby. "Now perhaps you'll let the gentleman know, how you would set this muddle (as you're so fond of calling it) to rights." "I donno, sir. I canna be expecten to 't. 'Tis not me as should be looken to for that, s... | what sameness; and look how the mills is awlus a goin, and how they never works us no nigher to ony dis'ant object ceptin awlus, Death. Look how you considers of us, and writes of us, and talks of us, and goes up wi' yor deputations to Secretaries o' State 'bout us, and how yo are awlus right, and how we are awlus wron... | on trust from my mouth." Stephen bent his head to the gentleman from London, and showed a rather more troubled mind than usual. He turned his eyes involuntarily to his former refuge, but at a look from that quarter (expressive though instantaneous) he settled them on Mr. Bounderby's face. "Now, what do you complain of?... | wi' 'em, an' seet'n wi' 'em, and toil'n wi' 'em, and lov'n 'em, should fail fur to stan by 'em wi' the truth, let 'em ha' doon to me what they may!" He spoke with the rugged earnestness of his place and character deepened perhaps by a proud consciousness that he was faithful to his class under all their mistrust; but h... | little irresolution for a moment, and then seemed to make up his mind. "Sir, I were never good at showin o 't, though I ha had'n my share in feeling o 't. 'Deed we are in a muddle, sir. Look round town so rich as 'tis and see the numbers o' people as has been broughten into bein heer, fur to weave, an' to card, an' to ... | Hard Times |
Stephen gravely shook his head. | No speaker | shipped off to penal settlements."<|quote|>Stephen gravely shook his head.</|quote|>"Don't tell me we won't, | for felony, and get 'em shipped off to penal settlements."<|quote|>Stephen gravely shook his head.</|quote|>"Don't tell me we won't, man," said Mr. Bounderby, by | rest of us. What do they tak upon themseln, sir, if not to do't?" "I'll tell you something towards it, at any rate," returned Mr. Bounderby. "We will make an example of half a dozen Slackbridges. We'll indict the blackguards for felony, and get 'em shipped off to penal settlements."<|quote|>Stephen gravely shook his he... | let the gentleman know, how you would set this muddle (as you're so fond of calling it) to rights." "I donno, sir. I canna be expecten to 't. 'Tis not me as should be looken to for that, sir. 'Tis them as is put ower me, and ower aw the rest of us. What do they tak upon themseln, sir, if not to do't?" "I'll tell you so... | awlus, Death. Look how you considers of us, and writes of us, and talks of us, and goes up wi' yor deputations to Secretaries o' State 'bout us, and how yo are awlus right, and how we are awlus wrong, and never had'n no reason in us sin ever we were born. Look how this ha growen an' growen, sir, bigger an' bigger, broa... | turned his eyes involuntarily to his former refuge, but at a look from that quarter (expressive though instantaneous) he settled them on Mr. Bounderby's face. "Now, what do you complain of?" asked Mr. Bounderby. "I ha' not coom here, sir," Stephen reminded him, "to complain. I coom for that I were sent for." "What," re... | 'em ha' doon to me what they may!" He spoke with the rugged earnestness of his place and character deepened perhaps by a proud consciousness that he was faithful to his class under all their mistrust; but he fully remembered where he was, and did not even raise his voice. "No, ma'am, no. They're true to one another, fa... | repeated Mr. Bounderby, folding his arms, "do you people, in a general way, complain of?" Stephen looked at him with some little irresolution for a moment, and then seemed to make up his mind. "Sir, I were never good at showin o 't, though I ha had'n my share in feeling o 't. 'Deed we are in a muddle, sir. Look round t... | Hard Times |
"Don't tell me we won't, man," | Josiah Bounderby | Stephen gravely shook his head.<|quote|>"Don't tell me we won't, man,"</|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby, by this | shipped off to penal settlements." Stephen gravely shook his head.<|quote|>"Don't tell me we won't, man,"</|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby, by this time blowing a hurricane, "because | they tak upon themseln, sir, if not to do't?" "I'll tell you something towards it, at any rate," returned Mr. Bounderby. "We will make an example of half a dozen Slackbridges. We'll indict the blackguards for felony, and get 'em shipped off to penal settlements." Stephen gravely shook his head.<|quote|>"Don't tell me w... | you would set this muddle (as you're so fond of calling it) to rights." "I donno, sir. I canna be expecten to 't. 'Tis not me as should be looken to for that, sir. 'Tis them as is put ower me, and ower aw the rest of us. What do they tak upon themseln, sir, if not to do't?" "I'll tell you something towards it, at any r... | considers of us, and writes of us, and talks of us, and goes up wi' yor deputations to Secretaries o' State 'bout us, and how yo are awlus right, and how we are awlus wrong, and never had'n no reason in us sin ever we were born. Look how this ha growen an' growen, sir, bigger an' bigger, broader an' broader, harder an'... | his former refuge, but at a look from that quarter (expressive though instantaneous) he settled them on Mr. Bounderby's face. "Now, what do you complain of?" asked Mr. Bounderby. "I ha' not coom here, sir," Stephen reminded him, "to complain. I coom for that I were sent for." "What," repeated Mr. Bounderby, folding his... | what they may!" He spoke with the rugged earnestness of his place and character deepened perhaps by a proud consciousness that he was faithful to his class under all their mistrust; but he fully remembered where he was, and did not even raise his voice. "No, ma'am, no. They're true to one another, faithfo' to one anoth... | Bounderby made a backhanded point at Mr. James Harthouse with his thumb, "a Parliament gentleman. I should like him to hear a short bit of dialogue between you and me, instead of taking the substance of it for I know precious well, beforehand, what it will be; nobody knows better than I do, take notice! instead of rece... | Hard Times |
said Mr. Bounderby, by this time blowing a hurricane, | No speaker | tell me we won't, man,"<|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby, by this time blowing a hurricane,</|quote|>"because we will, I tell | gravely shook his head. "Don't tell me we won't, man,"<|quote|>said Mr. Bounderby, by this time blowing a hurricane,</|quote|>"because we will, I tell you!" "Sir," returned Stephen, with | not to do't?" "I'll tell you something towards it, at any rate," returned Mr. Bounderby. "We will make an example of half a dozen Slackbridges. We'll indict the blackguards for felony, and get 'em shipped off to penal settlements." Stephen gravely shook his head. "Don't tell me we won't, man,"<|quote|>said Mr. Bounderb... | you're so fond of calling it) to rights." "I donno, sir. I canna be expecten to 't. 'Tis not me as should be looken to for that, sir. 'Tis them as is put ower me, and ower aw the rest of us. What do they tak upon themseln, sir, if not to do't?" "I'll tell you something towards it, at any rate," returned Mr. Bounderby. ... | us, and talks of us, and goes up wi' yor deputations to Secretaries o' State 'bout us, and how yo are awlus right, and how we are awlus wrong, and never had'n no reason in us sin ever we were born. Look how this ha growen an' growen, sir, bigger an' bigger, broader an' broader, harder an' harder, fro year to year, fro ... | look from that quarter (expressive though instantaneous) he settled them on Mr. Bounderby's face. "Now, what do you complain of?" asked Mr. Bounderby. "I ha' not coom here, sir," Stephen reminded him, "to complain. I coom for that I were sent for." "What," repeated Mr. Bounderby, folding his arms, "do you people, in a ... | the rugged earnestness of his place and character deepened perhaps by a proud consciousness that he was faithful to his class under all their mistrust; but he fully remembered where he was, and did not even raise his voice. "No, ma'am, no. They're true to one another, faithfo' to one another, 'fectionate to one another... | bit of dialogue between you and me, instead of taking the substance of it for I know precious well, beforehand, what it will be; nobody knows better than I do, take notice! instead of receiving it on trust from my mouth." Stephen bent his head to the gentleman from London, and showed a rather more troubled mind than us... | Hard Times |
"because we will, I tell you!" | Josiah Bounderby | this time blowing a hurricane,<|quote|>"because we will, I tell you!"</|quote|>"Sir," returned Stephen, with the | man," said Mr. Bounderby, by this time blowing a hurricane,<|quote|>"because we will, I tell you!"</|quote|>"Sir," returned Stephen, with the quiet confidence of absolute certainty, | at any rate," returned Mr. Bounderby. "We will make an example of half a dozen Slackbridges. We'll indict the blackguards for felony, and get 'em shipped off to penal settlements." Stephen gravely shook his head. "Don't tell me we won't, man," said Mr. Bounderby, by this time blowing a hurricane,<|quote|>"because we wi... | donno, sir. I canna be expecten to 't. 'Tis not me as should be looken to for that, sir. 'Tis them as is put ower me, and ower aw the rest of us. What do they tak upon themseln, sir, if not to do't?" "I'll tell you something towards it, at any rate," returned Mr. Bounderby. "We will make an example of half a dozen Slac... | yor deputations to Secretaries o' State 'bout us, and how yo are awlus right, and how we are awlus wrong, and never had'n no reason in us sin ever we were born. Look how this ha growen an' growen, sir, bigger an' bigger, broader an' broader, harder an' harder, fro year to year, fro generation unto generation. Who can l... | them on Mr. Bounderby's face. "Now, what do you complain of?" asked Mr. Bounderby. "I ha' not coom here, sir," Stephen reminded him, "to complain. I coom for that I were sent for." "What," repeated Mr. Bounderby, folding his arms, "do you people, in a general way, complain of?" Stephen looked at him with some little ir... | perhaps by a proud consciousness that he was faithful to his class under all their mistrust; but he fully remembered where he was, and did not even raise his voice. "No, ma'am, no. They're true to one another, faithfo' to one another, 'fectionate to one another, e'en to death. Be poor amoong 'em, be sick amoong 'em, gr... | at Mr. James Harthouse with his thumb, "a Parliament gentleman. I should like him to hear a short bit of dialogue between you and me, instead of taking the substance of it for I know precious well, beforehand, what it will be; nobody knows better than I do, take notice! instead of receiving it on trust from my mouth." ... | Hard Times |
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