Тяжкі часи

Mr. James Harthouse

           

           ‘Iamgladtohearit,’saidBounderby.‘Now,youhaveheardalotoftalkabouttheworkinourmills,nodoubt.Youhave?Verygood.I’llstatethefactofittoyou.It’sthepleasantestworkthereis,andit’sthelightestworkthereis,andit’sthebest-paidworkthereis.Morethanthat,wecouldn’timprovethemillsthemselves,unlesswelaiddownTurkeycarpetsonthefloors.Whichwe’renota-goingtodo.’

           ‘Mr.Bounderby,perfectlyright.’

           ‘Lastly,’saidBounderby,‘astoourHands.There’snotaHandinthistown,sir,man,woman,orchild,buthasoneultimateobjectinlife.Thatobjectis,tobefedonturtlesoupandvenisonwithagoldspoon.Now,they’renota-goingnoneof’emevertobefedonturtlesoupandvenisonwithagoldspoon.Andnowyouknowtheplace.’

           Mr.Harthouseprofessedhimselfinthehighestdegreeinstructedandrefreshed,bythiscondensedepitomeofthewholeCoketownquestion.

           ‘Why,yousee,’repliedMr.Bounderby,‘itsuitsmydispositiontohaveafullunderstandingwithaman,particularlywithapublicman,whenImakehisacquaintance.Ihaveonlyonethingmoretosaytoyou,Mr.Harthouse,beforeassuringyouofthepleasurewithwhichIshallrespond,totheutmostofmypoorability,tomyfriendTomGradgrind’sletterofintroduction.Youareamanoffamily.Don’tyoudeceiveyourselfbysupposingforamomentthatIamamanoffamily.Iamabitofdirtyriff-raff,andagenuinescrapoftag,rag,andbobtail.

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