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Bitzer picked up his cap, which the concussion had knocked off; and backing, and knuckling his forehead, pleaded that it was an accident. Was this boy running after you, Jupe? asked Mr Gradgrind. Yes, sir, said the girl reluctantly. No, I wasnt, sir! cried Bitzer. Not till she run away from me. But the horse-riders never mind what they say, sir; theyre famous for it. You know the horse-riders are famous for never minding what they say, addressing Sissy. Its as well known in the town as please, sir, as the multiplication table isnt known to the horse-riders. Bitzer tried Mr Bounderby with this. He frightened me so, said the girl, with his cruel faces! Oh! cried Bitzer. Oh! Ant you one of the rest! Ant you a horse-rider! I never looked at her, sir. I asked her if she would know how to define a horse tomorrow, and offered to tell her again, and she ran away, and I ran after her, sir, that she might know how to answer when she was asked. You wouldnt have thought of saying such mischief if you hadnt been a horse-rider! Her calling seems to be pretty well known among em, observed Mr Bounderby. Youd have had the whole school peeping in a row, in a week. Truly, I think so, returned his friend. Bitzer, turn you about and take yourself home. Jupe, stay here a moment. Let me hear of your running in this manner any more, boy, and you will hear of me through the master of the school. You understand what I mean. Go along. The boy stopped in his rapid blinking, knuckled his forehead again, glanced at Sissy, turned about, and retreated. Now, girl, said Mr Gradgrind, take this gentleman and me to your fathers; we are going there. What have you got in that bottle you are carrying? Gin, said Mr Bounderby. Dear, no, sir! Its the nine oils. The what? cried Mr Bounderby. The nine oils, sir. To rub father with. Then said Mr Bounderby, with a loud short laugh, What the devil do you rub your father with nine oils for? Its what our people aways use, sir, when they get any hurts in the ring, replied the girl, looking over her shoulder, to assure herself that her pursuer was gone. They bruise themselves very bad sometimes. Serve em right, said Mr Bounderby, for being idle. She glanced up at his face, with mingled astonishment and dread. By George! said Mr Bounderby, when I was four or five years younger than you, I had worse bruises upon me than ten oils, twenty oils, forty oils, would have rubbed off. I didnt get em by posture-making, but by being banged about. There was no rope-dancing for me; I danced on the bare ground and was larruped with the rope. Mr Gradgrind, though hard enough, was by no means so rough a man as Mr Bounderby. His character was not unkind, all things considered; it might have been a very kind one indeed, if he had only made some round mistake in the arithmetic that balanced it, years ago. He said, in what he meant for a reassuring tone, as they turned down a narrow road, And this is Pods End; is it, Jupe? This is it, sir, and if you wouldnt mind, sir this is the house. |
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