Тяжёлые времена

Whelp-Hunting

           

           Inapreposterouscoat,likeabeadle’s,withcuffsandflapsexaggeratedtoanunspeakableextent;inanimmensewaistcoat,knee-breeches,buckledshoes,andamadcockedhat;withnothingfittinghim,andeverythingofcoarsematerial,moth-eatenandfullofholes;withseamsinhisblackface,wherefearandheathadstartedthroughthegreasycompositiondaubedalloverit;anythingsogrimly,detestably,ridiculouslyshamefulasthewhelpinhiscomiclivery,Mr.Gradgrindnevercouldbyanyothermeanshavebelievedin,weighableandmeasurablefactthoughitwas.Andoneofhismodelchildrenhadcometothis!

           Atfirstthewhelpwouldnotdrawanynearer,butpersistedinremaininguptherebyhimself.Yieldingatlength,ifanyconcessionsosullenlymadecanbecalledyielding,totheentreatiesofSissyforLouisahedisownedaltogetherhecamedown,benchbybench,untilhestoodinthesawdust,onthevergeofthecircle,asfaraspossible,withinitslimitsfromwherehisfathersat.

           ‘Howwasthisdone?’askedthefather.

           ‘Howwaswhatdone?’moodilyansweredtheson.

           ‘Thisrobbery,’saidthefather,raisinghisvoiceupontheword.

           ‘Iforcedthesafemyselfovernight,andshutitupajarbeforeIwentaway.Ihadhadthekeythatwasfound,madelongbefore.Idroppeditthatmorning,thatitmightbesupposedtohavebeenused.Ididn’ttakethemoneyallatonce.Ipretendedtoputmybalanceawayeverynight,butIdidn’t.Nowyouknowallaboutit.

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