hard times(艰难时世)-第21章
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asking me to dinner； and if you don’t there’s none。”
“I’ll come directly。”
“I’ll wait for you；” said Tom； “to make sure。”
Sissy resumed in a lower voice。 “At last poor father said that he
had given no satisfaction again； and never did give any satisfaction
now； and that he was a shame and disgrace； and I should have
done better without him all along。 I said all the affectionate things
to him that came into my heart； and presently he was quiet； and I
sat down by him； and told him all about the school and everything
that had been said and done there。 When I had no more left to tell；
he put his arms round my neck； and kissed me a great many times。
Then he asked me to fetch some of the stuff he used； for the little
hurt he had had； and to get it at the best place； which was at the
other end of town from there； and then； after kissing me again； he
let me go。 When I had gone downstairs； I turned back that I might
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be a little bit more company to him yet； and looked in at the door；
and said； ‘Father dear； shall I take Merrylegs？’ Father shook his
head and said； ‘No； Sissy； no； take nothing that’s known to be
mine； my darling；’ and I left him sitting by the fire。 Then the
thought must have come upon him； poor； poor father！ of going
away to try something for my sake； for； when I came back he was
gone。”
“I say！ Look sharp for old Bounderby； Loo！” Tom
remonstrated。
“There’s no more to tell； Miss Louisa。 I keep the nine oils ready
for him and I know he will come back。 Every letter that I see in Mr
Gradgrind’s hand takes my breath away and blinds my eyes； for I
think it comes from father； or from Mr Sleary about father。 Mr
Sleary promised to write as soon as ever father should be heard of；
and I trust to him to keep his word。”
“Do look sharp for old Bounderby； Loo！” said Tom； with an
impatient whistle。 “He’ll be off if you don’t look sharp！”
After this； whenever Sissy dropped a curtsey to Mr Gradgrind
in the presence of his family； and said in a faltering way； “I beg
your pardon； sir； for being troublesome—but—have you had any
letter yet about me？” Louisa would suspend the occupation of the
moment； whatever it was； and look for the reply as earnestly as
Sissy did。 And when Mr Gradgrind regularly answered； “No； Jupe；
nothing of the sort；” the trembling of Sissy’s lip would be repeated
in Louisa’s face； and her eyes would follow Sissy with compassion
to the door。 Mr Gradgrind usually improved these occasions by
remarking； when she was gone； that if Jupe had been properly
trained from an early age she would have demonstrated to herself
on sound principles the baselessness of these fantastic hopes。 Yet
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it did seem （though not to him； for he saw nothing of it） as if
fantastic hope could take as strong a hold as Fact。
This observation must be limited exclusively to his daughter。 As
to Tom； he was becoming that not unprecedented triumph of
calculation which is usually at work on number one。 As to Mrs
Gradgrind； if she said anything on the subject； she would come a
little way out of her wrappers； like a feminine dormouse； and say：
“Good gracious bless me； how my poor head is vexed and
worried by that girl Jupe’s so perseveringly asking； over and over
again； about her tiresome letters！ Upon my word and honour I
seem to be fated； and destined； and ordained； to live in the midst
of things that I am never to hear the last of。 It really is a most
extraordinary circumstance that it appears as if I never were to
hear the last of anything！”
At about this point； Mr Gradgrind’s eye would fall upon her；
and under the influence of that wintry piece of fact； she would
become torpid again。
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Chapter 10
Stephen Blackpool
entertain a weak idea that the English people are as hard
worked as any people upon whom the sun shines。 I
Iacknowledge to this ridiculous idiosyncrasy； as a reason why I
would give them a little more play。
In the hardest working part of Coketown； in the innermost
fortifications of that ugly citadel； where Nature was as strongly
bricked out as killing airs and gases were bricked in； at the heart
of the labyrinth of narrow courts upon courts； and close streets
upon streets； which had come into existence piecemeal； every
piece in a violent hurry for some one man’s purpose； and the
whole an unnatural family； shouldering； and trampling； and
pressing one another to death； in the last close nook of this great
exhausted receiver； where the chimneys； for want of air to make a
draught； were built an immense variety of stunted and crooked
shapes； as though every house put out a sign of the kind of people
who might be expected to be born in it； among the multitude of
Coketown； generically called “the Hands；”—a race who would
have found more favour with some people； if Providence had seen
fit to make them only hands； or； like the lower creatures of the sea…
shore； only hands and stomachs—lived a certain Stephen
Blackpool； forty years of age。
Stephen looked older； but he had had a hard life。 It is said that
every life has its roses and thorns； there seemed； however； to have
been a misadventure or mistake in Stephen’s case； whereby
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somebody else had become possessed of his roses and he had
become possessed of the same somebody else’s thorns in addition
to his own。 He had known； to use his words； a peck of trouble。 He
was usually called Old Stephen； in a kind of rough homage to the
fact。
A rather stooping man； with a knitted brow； a pondering
expression of face； and a hard…looking head sufficiently capacious；
on which his iron…grey hair lay long and thin； Old Stephen might
have passed for a particularly intelligent man in his condition。 Yet
he was not。 He took no place among those remarkable “Hands；”
who； piecing together their broken intervals of leisure through
many years； had mastered difficult sciences； and acquired a
knowledge of most unlikely things。 He held no station among the
Hands who could make speeches and carry on debates。 Thousands
of his compeers could talk much better than he； at
