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Body
number
two
,
said
they
must
take
everything
on
political
economy
.
Body
number
three
,
wrote
leaden
little
books
for
them
,
showing
how
the
good
grown-up
baby
invariably
got
to
the
Savings-bank
,
and
the
bad
grown-up
baby
invariably
got
transported
.
Body
number
four
,
under
dreary
pretences
of
being
droll
(
when
it
was
very
melancholy
indeed
)
,
made
the
shallowest
pretences
of
concealing
pitfalls
of
knowledge
,
into
which
it
was
the
duty
of
these
babies
to
be
smuggled
and
inveigled
.
But
,
all
the
bodies
agreed
that
they
were
never
to
wonder
.
There
was
a
library
in
Coketown
,
to
which
general
access
was
easy
.
Mr.
Gradgrind
greatly
tormented
his
mind
about
what
the
people
read
in
this
library
:
a
point
whereon
little
rivers
of
tabular
statements
periodically
flowed
into
the
howling
ocean
of
tabular
statements
,
which
no
diver
ever
got
to
any
depth
in
and
came
up
sane
.
It
was
a
disheartening
circumstance
,
but
a
melancholy
fact
,
that
even
these
readers
persisted
in
wondering
.
They
wondered
about
human
nature
,
human
passions
,
human
hopes
and
fears
,
the
struggles
,
triumphs
and
defeats
,
the
cares
and
joys
and
sorrows
,
the
lives
and
deaths
of
common
men
and
women
!
They
sometimes
,
after
fifteen
hours
'
work
,
sat
down
to
read
mere
fables
about
men
and
women
,
more
or
less
like
themselves
,
and
about
children
,
more
or
less
like
their
own
.
They
took
De
Foe
to
their
bosoms
,
instead
of
Euclid
,
and
seemed
to
be
on
the
whole
more
comforted
by
Goldsmith
than
by
Cocker
.
Mr.
Gradgrind
was
for
ever
working
,
in
print
and
out
of
print
,
at
this
eccentric
sum
,
and
he
never
could
make
out
how
it
yielded
this
unaccountable
product
.
'
I
am
sick
of
my
life
,
Loo
.
I
,
hate
it
altogether
,
and
I
hate
everybody
except
you
,
'
said
the
unnatural
young
Thomas
Gradgrind
in
the
hair-cutting
chamber
at
twilight
.
'
You
do
n't
hate
Sissy
,
Tom
?
'
'
I
hate
to
be
obliged
to
call
her
Jupe
.
And
she
hates
me
,
'
said
Tom
,
moodily
.
'
No
,
she
does
not
,
Tom
,
I
am
sure
!
'
'
She
must
,
'
said
Tom
.
'
She
must
just
hate
and
detest
the
whole
set-out
of
us
.
They
'll
bother
her
head
off
,
I
think
,
before
they
have
done
with
her
.
Already
she
's
getting
as
pale
as
wax
,
and
as
heavy
as
--
I
am
.
'
Young
Thomas
expressed
these
sentiments
sitting
astride
of
a
chair
before
the
fire
,
with
his
arms
on
the
back
,
and
his
sulky
face
on
his
arms
.
His
sister
sat
in
the
darker
corner
by
the
fireside
,
now
looking
at
him
,
now
looking
at
the
bright
sparks
as
they
dropped
upon
the
hearth
.
'
As
to
me
,
'
said
Tom
,
tumbling
his
hair
all
manner
of
ways
with
his
sulky
hands
,
'
I
am
a
Donkey
,
that
's
what
I
am
.
I
am
as
obstinate
as
one
,
I
am
more
stupid
than
one
,
I
get
as
much
pleasure
as
one
,
and
I
should
like
to
kick
like
one
.
'
