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and he can’t stand it。”
“Why has he been—so very much—Goosed？” asked Mr
Gradgrind； forcing the word out of himself； with great solemnity
and reluctance。
“His joints are turning stiff； and he is getting used up；” said
Childers。 “He has his points as a Cackler still； but he can’t get a
living out of them。”
“A Cackler！” Bounderby repeated。 “Here we go again！”
“A speaker； if the gentleman likes it better；” said Mr E。 W。 B。
Childers； superciliously throwing the interpretation over his
shoulder； and accompanying it with a shake of his long hair—
which all shook at once。 “Now； it’s a remarkable fact； sir； that it
cut that man deeper； to know that his daughter knew of his being
goosed； than to go through with it。”
“Good！” interrupted Mr Bounderby。 “This is good； Gradgrind！
A man so fond of his daughter； that he runs away from her！ This is
devilish good！ Ha！ ha！ Now； I’ll tell you what； young man。 I haven’t
always occupied my present station of life。 I know what these
things are。 You may be astonished to hear it； but my mother ran
away from me。”
E。 W。 B。 Childers replied pointedly that he was not at all
astonished to hear it。
“Very well；” said Bounderby。 “I was born in a ditch； and my
mother ran away from me。 Do I excuse her for it？ No。 Have I ever
excused her for it？ Not I。 What do I call her for it？ I call her
probably the very worst woman that ever lived in the world；
except my drunken grandmother。 There’s no family pride about；
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Hard Times 47
me there’s no imaginative sentimental humbug about me； there’s
no imaginative sentimental humbug about me。 I call a spade a
spade； and I call the mother of Josiah Bounderby of Coketown；
without any fear or any favour； what I should call her if she had
been the mother of Dick Jones of Wapping。 So； with this man。 He
is a runaway rogue and a vagabond； that’s what he is； in English。”
“It’s all the same to me what he is or what he is not； whether in
English or whether in French；” retorted Mr E。 W。 B。 Childers；
facing about。 “I am telling your friend what’s the fact； if you don’t
like to hear it； you can avail yourself of the open air。 You give it
mouth enough； you do； but give it mouth in your own building at
least；” remonstrated E。 W。 B。 with stern irony。 “Don’t give it
mouth in this building； till you’re called upon。 You have got some
building of your own； I dare say； now？”
“Perhaps so；” replied Mr Bounderby； rattling his money and
laughing。
“Then give it mouth in your own building； will you； if you
please？” said Childers。 “Because this isn’t a strong building； and
too much of you might bring it down！”
Eyeing Mr Bounderby from head to foot again； he turned from
him； as from a man finally disposed of； to Mr Gradgrind。
“Jupe sent his daughter out on an errand not an hour ago； and
then was seen to slip out himself； with his hat over his eyes and a
bundle tied up in a handkerchief under his arm。 She will never
believe it of him； but he has cut away and left her。”
“Pray；” said Mr Gradgrind； “why will she never believe it of
him？”
“Because those two were one。 Because they were never
asunder。 Because； up to this time； he seemed to dote upon her；”
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Hard Times 48
said Childers； taking a step or two to look into the empty trunk。
Both Mr Childers and Master Kidderminster walked in a curious
manner； with their legs wider apart than the general run of men；
and with a very knowing assumption of being stiff in the knees。
This walk was common to all the male members of Sleary’s
company； and was understood to express； that they were always
on horseback。
“Poor Sissy！ He had better have apprenticed her；” said
Childers； giving his hair another shake； as he looked up from the
empty box。 “Now； he leaves her without anything to take to。”
“It is creditable to you； who have never been apprenticed； to
express that opinion；” returned Mr Gradgrind； approvingly。
“I never apprenticed？ I was apprenticed when I was seven year
old。”
“Oh！ Indeed？” said Mr Gradgrind； rather resentfully； as having
been defrauded of his good opinion。 “I was not aware of its being
the custom to apprentice young persons to—”
“Idleness；” Mr Bounderby put in with a loud laugh。 “No； by the
Lord Harry！ Nor I！”
“Her father always had it in his head；” resumed Childers；
feigning unconsciousness of Mr Bounderby’s existence； “that she
was to be taught the deuce…and…all of education。 How it got into his
head； I can’t say； I can only say that it never got out。 He has been
picking up a bit of reading for her； here—and a bit of writing for
her； there—and a bit of ciphering for her； somewhere else—these
seven years。”
Mr E。 W。 B。 Childers took one of his hands out of his pockets；
stroked his face and chin； and looked； with a good deal of doubt
and a little hope； at Mr Gradgrind。 From the first he had sought to
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Hard Times 49
conciliate that gentleman； for the sake of the deserted girl。
“When Sissy got into the school here；” he pursued； “her father
was as pleased as Punch。 I couldn’t altogether make out why；
myself； as we were not stationary here； being but comers and
goers anywhere。 I suppose； however； he had this move in his
mind—he was always half…cracked—and then considered her
provided for。 If you should happen to have looked in tonight； for
the purpose of telling him that you were going to do her any little
service；” said Mr Childers； stroking his face again； and repea