VI + 

SlearyтАЩs Horsemanship + 

The name of the public-house was the PegasusтАЩs Arms. The PegasusтАЩs legs might have been more to the purpose; but, underneath the winged horse upon the signboard, the PegasusтАЩs Arms was inscribed in Roman letters. Beneath that inscription again, in a flowing scroll, the painter had touched off the lines: + 

Good malt makes good beer, + 

Walk in, and theyтАЩll draw it here; + 

Good wine makes good brandy, + 

Give us a call, and youтАЩll find it handy. + 

Framed and glazed upon the wall behind the dingy little bar, was another PegasusтБатАФa theatrical oneтБатАФwith real gauze let in for his wings, golden stars stuck on all over him, and his ethereal harness made of red silk. + 

As it had grown too dusky without, to see the sign, and as it had not grown light enough within to see the picture, Mr.┬аGradgrind and Mr.┬аBounderby received no offence from these idealities. They followed the girl up some steep corner-stairs without meeting anyone, and stopped in the dark while she went on for a candle. They expected every moment to hear Merrylegs give tongue, but the highly trained performing dog had not barked when the girl and the candle appeared together. + 

тАЬFather is not in our room, sir,тАЭ she said, with a face of great surprise. тАЬIf you wouldnтАЩt mind walking in, IтАЩll find him directly.тАЭ They walked in; and Sissy, having set two chairs for them, sped away with a quick light step. It was a mean, shabbily furnished room, with a bed in it. The white nightcap, embellished with two peacockтАЩs feathers and a pigtail bolt upright, in which Signor Jupe had that very afternoon enlivened the varied performances with his chaste Shakespearean quips and retorts, hung upon a nail; but no other portion of his wardrobe, or other token of himself or his pursuits, was to be seen anywhere. As to Merrylegs, that respectable ancestor of the highly trained animal who went aboard the ark, might have been accidentally shut out of it, for any sign of a dog that was manifest to eye or ear in the PegasusтАЩs Arms. + 

They heard the doors of rooms above, opening and shutting as Sissy went from one to another in quest of her father; and presently they heard voices expressing surprise. She came bounding down again in a great hurry, opened a battered and mangy old hair trunk, found it empty, and looked round with her hands clasped and her face full of terror. + 

тАЬFather must have gone down to the Booth, sir. I donтАЩt know why he should go there, but he must be there; IтАЩll bring him in a minute!тАЭ She was gone directly, without her bonnet; with her long, dark, childish hair streaming behind her. + 

тАЬWhat does she mean!тАЭ said Mr.┬аGradgrind. тАЬBack in a minute? ItтАЩs more than a mile off.тАЭ + 

Before Mr.┬аBounderby could reply, a young man appeared at the door, and introducing himself with the words, тАЬBy your leaves, gentlemen!тАЭ walked in with his hands in his pockets. His face, close-shaven, thin, and sallow, was shaded by a great quantity of dark hair, brushed into a roll all round his head, and parted up the centre. His legs were very robust, but shorter than legs of good proportions should have been. His chest and back were as much too broad, as his legs were too short. He was dressed in a Newmarket coat and tight-fitting trousers; wore a shawl round his neck; smelt of lamp-oil, straw, orange-peel, horsesтАЩ provender, and sawdust; and looked a most remarkable sort of Centaur, compounded of the stable and the playhouse. Where the one began, and the other ended, nobody could have told with any precision. This gentleman was mentioned in the bills of the day as Mr.┬аE. W. B. Childers, so justly celebrated for his daring vaulting act as the Wild Huntsman of the North American Prairies; in which popular performance, a diminutive boy with an old face, who now accompanied him, assisted as his infant son: being carried upside down over his fatherтАЩs shoulder, by one foot, and held by the crown of his head, heels upwards, in the palm of his fatherтАЩs hand, according to the violent paternal manner in which wild huntsmen may be observed to fondle their offspring. Made up with curls, wreaths, wings, white bismuth, and carmine, this hopeful young person soared into so pleasing a Cupid as to constitute the chief delight of the maternal part of the spectators; but in private, where his characteristics were a precocious cutaway coat and an extremely gruff voice, he became of the Turf, turfy. + 

тАЬBy your leaves, gentlemen,тАЭ said Mr.┬аE. W. B. Childers, glancing round the room. тАЬIt was you, I believe, that were wishing to see Jupe!тАЭ + 

тАЬIt was,тАЭ said Mr.┬аGradgrind. тАЬHis daughter has gone to fetch him, but I canтАЩt wait; therefore, if you please, I will leave a message for him with you.тАЭ + 

тАЬYou see, my friend,тАЭ Mr.┬аBounderby put in, тАЬwe are the kind of people who know the value of time, and you are the kind of people who donтАЩt know the value of time.тАЭ + 

тАЬI have not,тАЭ retorted Mr.┬аChilders, after surveying him from head to foot, тАЬthe honour of knowing youтБатАФbut if you mean that you can make more money of your time than I can of mine, I should judge from your appearance, that you are about right.тАЭ + 

тАЬAnd when you have made it, you can keep it too, I should think,тАЭ said Cupid. + 

тАЬKidderminster, stow that!тАЭ said Mr.┬аChilders. (Master Kidderminster was CupidтАЩs mortal name.) + 

тАЬWhat does he come here cheeking us for, then?тАЭ cried Master Kidderminster, showing a very irascible temperament. тАЬIf you want to cheek us, pay your ochre at the doors and take it out.тАЭ + 

тАЬKidderminster,тАЭ said Mr.┬аChilders, raising his voice, тАЬstow that!тБатАФSir,тАЭ to Mr.┬аGradgrind, тАЬI was addressing myself to you. You may or you may not be aware (for perhaps you have not been much in the audience), that Jupe has missed his tip very often, lately.тАЭ + 

тАЬHasтБатАФwhat has he missed?тАЭ asked Mr.┬аGradgrind, glancing at the potent Bounderby for assistance. + 

тАЬMissed his tip.тАЭ + 

тАЬOffered at the Garters four times last night, and never done тАЩem once,тАЭ said Master Kidderminster. тАЬMissed his tip at the banners, too, and was loose in his ponging.тАЭ + 

тАЬDidnтАЩt do what he ought to do. Was short in his leaps and bad in his tumbling,тАЭ Mr.┬аChilders interpreted. + 

тАЬOh!тАЭ said Mr.┬аGradgrind, тАЬthat is tip, is it?тАЭ + 

тАЬIn a general way thatтАЩs missing his tip,тАЭ Mr.┬аE. W. B. Childers answered. + 

тАЬNine oils, Merrylegs, missing tips, garters, banners, and Ponging, eh!тАЭ ejaculated Bounderby, with his laugh of laughs. тАЬQueer sort of company, too, for a man who has raised himself!тАЭ + 

тАЬLower yourself, then,тАЭ retorted Cupid. тАЬOh Lord! if youтАЩve raised yourself so high as all that comes to, let yourself down a bit.тАЭ + 

тАЬThis is a very obtrusive lad!тАЭ said Mr.┬аGradgrind, turning, and knitting his brows on him. + 

тАЬWeтАЩd have had a young gentleman to meet you, if we had known you were coming,тАЭ retorted Master Kidderminster, nothing abashed. тАЬItтАЩs a pity you donтАЩt have a bespeak, being so particular. YouтАЩre on the Tight-Jeff, ainтАЩt you?тАЭ + 

тАЬWhat does this unmannerly boy mean,тАЭ asked Mr.┬аGradgrind, eyeing him in a sort of desperation, тАЬby Tight-Jeff?тАЭ + 

тАЬThere! Get out, get out!тАЭ said Mr.┬аChilders, thrusting his young friend from the room, rather in the prairie manner. тАЬTight-Jeff or Slack-Jeff, it donтАЩt much signify: itтАЩs only tightrope and slack-rope. You were going to give me a message for Jupe?тАЭ + 

тАЬYes, I was.тАЭ + 

тАЬThen,тАЭ continued Mr.┬аChilders, quickly, тАЬmy opinion is, he will never receive it. Do you know much of him?тАЭ + 

тАЬI never saw the man in my life.тАЭ + 

тАЬI doubt if you ever will see him now. ItтАЩs pretty plain to me, heтАЩs off.тАЭ + 

тАЬDo you mean that he has deserted his daughter?тАЭ + 

тАЬAy! I mean,тАЭ said Mr.┬аChilders, with a nod, тАЬthat he has cut. He was goosed last night, he was goosed the night before last, he was goosed today. He has lately got in the way of being always goosed, and he canтАЩt stand it.тАЭ + 

тАЬWhy has he beenтБатАФso very muchтБатАФgoosed?тАЭ asked Mr.┬аGradgrind, forcing the word out of himself, with great solemnity and reluctance. + 

тАЬHis joints are turning stiff, and he is getting used up,тАЭ said Childers. тАЬHe has his points as a Cackler still, but he canтАЩt get a living out of them.тАЭ + 

тАЬA Cackler!тАЭ Bounderby repeated. тАЬHere we go again!тАЭ + 

тАЬA speaker, if the gentleman likes it better,тАЭ said Mr.┬аE. W. B. Childers, superciliously throwing the interpretation over his shoulder, and accompanying it with a shake of his long hairтБатАФwhich all shook at once. тАЬNow, itтАЩs a remarkable fact, sir, that it cut that man deeper, to know that his daughter knew of his being goosed, than to go through with it.тАЭ + 

тАЬGood!тАЭ interrupted Mr.┬аBounderby. тАЬThis is good, Gradgrind! A man so fond of his daughter, that he runs away from her! This is devilish good! Ha! ha! Now, IтАЩll tell you what, young man. I havenтАЩt always occupied my present station of life. I know what these things are. You may be astonished to hear it, but my motherтБатАФran away from me.тАЭ + 

E. W. B. Childers replied pointedly, that he was not at all astonished to hear it. + 

тАЬVery well,тАЭ said Bounderby. тАЬI was born in a ditch, and my mother ran away from me. Do I excuse her for it? No. Have I ever excused her for it? Not I. What do I call her for it? I call her probably the very worst woman that ever lived in the world, except my drunken grandmother. ThereтАЩs no family pride about me, thereтАЩs no imaginative sentimental humbug about me. I call a spade a spade; and I call the mother of Josiah Bounderby of Coketown, without any fear or any favour, what I should call her if she had been the mother of Dick Jones of Wapping. So, with this man. He is a runaway rogue and a vagabond, thatтАЩs what he is, in English.тАЭ + 

тАЬItтАЩs all the same to me what he is or what he is not, whether in English or whether in French,тАЭ retorted Mr.┬аE. W. B. Childers, facing about. тАЬI am telling your friend whatтАЩs the fact; if you donтАЩt like to hear it, you can avail yourself of the open air. You give it mouth enough, you do; but give it mouth in your own building at least,тАЭ remonstrated E. W. B. with stern irony. тАЬDonтАЩt give it mouth in this building, till youтАЩre called upon. You have got some building of your own I dare say, now?тАЭ + 

тАЬPerhaps so,тАЭ replied Mr.┬аBounderby, rattling his money and laughing. + 

тАЬThen give it mouth in your own building, will you, if you please?тАЭ said Childers. тАЬBecause this isnтАЩt a strong building, and too much of you might bring it down!тАЭ + 

Eyeing Mr.┬аBounderby from head to foot again, he turned from him, as from a man finally disposed of, to Mr.┬аGradgrind. + 

тАЬJupe sent his daughter out on an errand not an hour ago, and then was seen to slip out himself, with his hat over his eyes, and a bundle tied up in a handkerchief under his arm. She will never believe it of him, but he has cut away and left her.тАЭ + 

тАЬPray,тАЭ said Mr.┬аGradgrind, тАЬwhy will she never believe it of him?тАЭ + 

тАЬBecause those two were one. Because they were never asunder. Because, up to this time, he seemed to dote upon her,тАЭ said Childers, taking a step or two to look into the empty trunk. Both Mr.┬аChilders and Master Kidderminster walked in a curious manner; with their legs wider apart than the general run of men, and with a very knowing assumption of being stiff in the knees. This walk was common to all the male members of SlearyтАЩs company, and was understood to express, that they were always on horseback. + 

тАЬPoor Sissy! He had better have apprenticed her,тАЭ said Childers, giving his hair another shake, as he looked up from the empty box. тАЬNow, he leaves her without anything to take to.тАЭ + 

тАЬIt is creditable to you, who have never been apprenticed, to express that opinion,тАЭ returned Mr.┬аGradgrind, approvingly. + 

тАЬI never apprenticed? I was apprenticed when I was seven year old.тАЭ + 

тАЬOh! Indeed?тАЭ said Mr.┬аGradgrind, rather resentfully, as having been defrauded of his good opinion. тАЬI was not aware of its being the custom to apprentice young persons toтБатАФтАЭ + 

тАЬIdleness,тАЭ Mr.┬аBounderby put in with a loud laugh. тАЬNo, by the Lord Harry! Nor I!тАЭ + 

тАЬHer father always had it in his head,тАЭ resumed Childers, feigning unconsciousness of Mr.┬аBounderbyтАЩs existence, тАЬthat she was to be taught the deuce-and-all of education. How it got into his head, I canтАЩt say; I can only say that it never got out. He has been picking up a bit of reading for her, hereтБатАФand a bit of writing for her, thereтБатАФand a bit of ciphering for her, somewhere elseтБатАФthese seven years.тАЭ + 

Mr.┬аE. W. B. Childers took one of his hands out of his pockets, stroked his face and chin, and looked, with a good deal of doubt and a little hope, at Mr.┬аGradgrind. From the first he had sought to conciliate that gentleman, for the sake of the deserted girl. + 

тАЬWhen Sissy got into the school here,тАЭ he pursued, тАЬher father was as pleased as Punch. I couldnтАЩt altogether make out why, myself, as we were not stationary here, being but comers and goers anywhere. I suppose, however, he had this move in his mindтБатАФhe was always half-crackedтБатАФand then considered her provided for. If you should happen to have looked in tonight, for the purpose of telling him that you were going to do her any little service,тАЭ said Mr.┬аChilders, stroking his face again, and repeating his look, тАЬit would be very fortunate and well-timed; very fortunate and well-timed.тАЭ + 

тАЬOn the contrary,тАЭ returned Mr.┬аGradgrind. тАЬI came to tell him that her connections made her not an object for the school, and that she must not attend any more. Still, if her father really has left her, without any connivance on her partтБатАФBounderby, let me have a word with you.тАЭ + 

Upon this, Mr.┬аChilders politely betook himself, with his equestrian walk, to the landing outside the door, and there stood stroking his face, and softly whistling. While thus engaged, he overheard such phrases in Mr.┬аBounderbyтАЩs voice as тАЬNo. I say no. I advise you not. I say by no means.тАЭ While, from Mr.┬аGradgrind, he heard in his much lower tone the words, тАЬBut even as an example to Louisa, of what this pursuit which has been the subject of a vulgar curiosity, leads to and ends in. Think of it, Bounderby, in that point of view.тАЭ + 

Meanwhile, the various members of SlearyтАЩs company gradually gathered together from the upper regions, where they were quartered, and, from standing about, talking in low voices to one another and to Mr.┬аChilders, gradually insinuated themselves and him into the room. There were two or three handsome young women among them, with their two or three husbands, and their two or three mothers, and their eight or nine little children, who did the fairy business when required. The father of one of the families was in the habit of balancing the father of another of the families on the top of a great pole; the father of a third family often made a pyramid of both those fathers, with Master Kidderminster for the apex, and himself for the base; all the fathers could dance upon rolling casks, stand upon bottles, catch knives and balls, twirl hand-basins, ride upon anything, jump over everything, and stick at nothing. All the mothers could (and did) dance, upon the slack wire and the tightrope, and perform rapid acts on barebacked steeds; none of them were at all particular in respect of showing their legs; and one of them, alone in a Greek chariot, drove six in hand into every town they came to. They all assumed to be mighty rakish and knowing, they were not very tidy in their private dresses, they were not at all orderly in their domestic arrangements, and the combined literature of the whole company would have produced but a poor letter on any subject. Yet there was a remarkable gentleness and childishness about these people, a special inaptitude for any kind of sharp practice, and an untiring readiness to help and pity one another, deserving often of as much respect, and always of as much generous construction, as the everyday virtues of any class of people in the world. + 

Last of all appeared Mr.┬аSleary: a stout man as already mentioned, with one fixed eye, and one loose eye, a voice (if it can be called so) like the efforts of a broken old pair of bellows, a flabby surface, and a muddled head which was never sober and never drunk. + 

тАЬThquire!тАЭ said Mr.┬аSleary, who was troubled with asthma, and whose breath came far too thick and heavy for the letter s, тАЬYour thervant! Thith ith a bad piethe of bithnith, thith ith. YouтАЩve heard of my Clown and hith dog being thuppothed to have morrithed?тАЭ + 

He addressed Mr.┬аGradgrind, who answered тАЬYes.тАЭ + 

тАЬWell, Thquire,тАЭ he returned, taking off his hat, and rubbing the lining with his pocket-handkerchief, which he kept inside for the purpose. тАЬIth it your intenthion to do anything for the poor girl, Thquire?тАЭ + 

тАЬI shall have something to propose to her when she comes back,тАЭ said Mr.┬аGradgrind. + 

тАЬGlad to hear it, Thquire. Not that I want to get rid of the child, any more than I want to thtand in her way. IтАЩm willing to take her prentith, though at her age ith late. My voithe ith a little huthky, Thquire, and not eathy heard by them ath donтАЩt know me; but if youтАЩd been chilled and heated, heated and chilled, chilled and heated in the ring when you wath young, ath often ath I have been, your voithe wouldnтАЩt have lathted out, Thquire, no more than mine.тАЭ + 

тАЬI dare say not,тАЭ said Mr.┬аGradgrind. + 

тАЬWhat thall it be, Thquire, while you wait? Thall it be Therry? Give it a name, Thquire!тАЭ said Mr.┬аSleary, with hospitable ease. + 

тАЬNothing for me, I thank you,тАЭ said Mr.┬аGradgrind. + 

тАЬDonтАЩt thay nothing, Thquire. What doth your friend thay? If you havenтАЩt took your feed yet, have a glath of bitterth.тАЭ + 

Here his daughter JosephineтБатАФa pretty fair-haired girl of eighteen, who had been tied on a horse at two years old, and had made a will at twelve, which she always carried about with her, expressive of her dying desire to be drawn to the grave by the two piebald poniesтБатАФcried, тАЬFather, hush! she has come back!тАЭ Then came Sissy Jupe, running into the room as she had run out of it. And when she saw them all assembled, and saw their looks, and saw no father there, she broke into a most deplorable cry, and took refuge on the bosom of the most accomplished tightrope lady (herself in the family-way), who knelt down on the floor to nurse her, and to weep over her. + 

тАЬIth an internal thame, upon my thoul it ith,тАЭ said Sleary. + 

тАЬO my dear father, my good kind father, where are you gone? You are gone to try to do me some good, I know! You are gone away for my sake, I am sure! And how miserable and helpless you will be without me, poor, poor father, until you come back!тАЭ It was so pathetic to hear her saying many things of this kind, with her face turned upward, and her arms stretched out as if she were trying to stop his departing shadow and embrace it, that no one spoke a word until Mr.┬аBounderby (growing impatient) took the case in hand. + 

тАЬNow, good people all,тАЭ said he, тАЬthis is wanton waste of time. Let the girl understand the fact. Let her take it from me, if you like, who have been run away from, myself. Here, whatтАЩs your name! Your father has abscondedтБатАФdeserted youтБатАФand you mustnтАЩt expect to see him again as long as you live.тАЭ + 

They cared so little for plain Fact, these people, and were in that advanced state of degeneracy on the subject, that instead of being impressed by the speakerтАЩs strong common sense, they took it in extraordinary dudgeon. The men muttered тАЬShame!тАЭ and the women тАЬBrute!тАЭ and Sleary, in some haste, communicated the following hint, apart to Mr.┬аBounderby. + 

тАЬI tell you what, Thquire. To thpeak plain to you, my opinion ith that you had better cut it thort, and drop it. TheyтАЩre a very good naturтАЩd people, my people, but theyтАЩre accuthtomed to be quick in their movementh; and if you donтАЩt act upon my advithe, IтАЩm damned if I donтАЩt believe theyтАЩll pith you out oтАЩ winder.тАЭ + 

Mr.┬аBounderby being restrained by this mild suggestion, Mr.┬аGradgrind found an opening for his eminently practical exposition of the subject. + 

тАЬIt is of no moment,тАЭ said he, тАЬwhether this person is to be expected back at any time, or the contrary. He is gone away, and there is no present expectation of his return. That, I believe, is agreed on all hands.тАЭ + 

тАЬThath agreed, Thquire. Thick to that!тАЭ From Sleary. + 

тАЬWell then. I, who came here to inform the father of the poor girl, Jupe, that she could not be received at the school any more, in consequence of there being practical objections, into which I need not enter, to the reception there of the children of persons so employed, am prepared in these altered circumstances to make a proposal. I am willing to take charge of you, Jupe, and to educate you, and provide for you. The only condition (over and above your good behaviour) I make is, that you decide now, at once, whether to accompany me or remain here. Also, that if you accompany me now, it is understood that you communicate no more with any of your friends who are here present. These observations comprise the whole of the case.тАЭ + 

тАЬAt the thame time,тАЭ said Sleary, тАЬI mutht put in my word, Thquire, tho that both thides of the banner may be equally theen. If you like, Thethilia, to be prentitht, you know the natur of the work and you know your companionth. Emma Gordon, in whothe lap youтАЩre a lying at prethent, would be a mother to you, and JothтАЩphine would be a thithter to you. I donтАЩt pretend to be of the angel breed myself, and I donтАЩt thay but what, when you mithтАЩd your tip, youтАЩd find me cut up rough, and thwear an oath or two at you. But what I thay, Thquire, ith, that good tempered or bad tempered, I never did a horthe a injury yet, no more than thwearing at him went, and that I donтАЩt expect I thall begin otherwithe at my time of life, with a rider. I never wath much of a Cackler, Thquire, and I have thed my thay.тАЭ + 

The latter part of this speech was addressed to Mr.┬аGradgrind, who received it with a grave inclination of his head, and then remarked: + 

тАЬThe only observation I will make to you, Jupe, in the way of influencing your decision, is, that it is highly desirable to have a sound practical education, and that even your father himself (from what I understand) appears, on your behalf, to have known and felt that much.тАЭ + 

The last words had a visible effect upon her. She stopped in her wild crying, a little detached herself from Emma Gordon, and turned her face full upon her patron. The whole company perceived the force of the change, and drew a long breath together, that plainly said, тАЬshe will go!тАЭ + 

тАЬBe sure you know your own mind, Jupe,тАЭ Mr.┬аGradgrind cautioned her; тАЬI say no more. Be sure you know your own mind!тАЭ + 

тАЬWhen father comes back,тАЭ cried the girl, bursting into tears again after a minuteтАЩs silence, тАЬhow will he ever find me if I go away!тАЭ + 

тАЬYou may be quite at ease,тАЭ said Mr.┬аGradgrind, calmly; he worked out the whole matter like a sum: тАЬyou may be quite at ease, Jupe, on that score. In such a case, your father, I apprehend, must find out Mr.тБатАФтАЭ + 

тАЬThleary. Thath my name, Thquire. Not athamed of it. Known all over England, and alwayth paythe ith way.тАЭ + 

тАЬMust find out Mr.┬аSleary, who would then let him know where you went. I should have no power of keeping you against his wish, and he would have no difficulty, at any time, in finding Mr.┬аThomas Gradgrind of Coketown. I am well known.тАЭ + 

тАЬWell known,тАЭ assented Mr.┬аSleary, rolling his loose eye. тАЬYouтАЩre one of the thort, Thquire, that keepth a prethiouth thight of money out of the houthe. But never mind that at prethent.тАЭ + 

There was another silence; and then she exclaimed, sobbing with her hands before her face, тАЬOh, give me my clothes, give me my clothes, and let me go away before I break my heart!тАЭ + 

The women sadly bestirred themselves to get the clothes togetherтБатАФit was soon done, for they were not manyтБатАФand to pack them in a basket which had often travelled with them. Sissy sat all the time upon the ground, still sobbing, and covering her eyes. Mr.┬аGradgrind and his friend Bounderby stood near the door, ready to take her away. Mr.┬аSleary stood in the middle of the room, with the male members of the company about him, exactly as he would have stood in the centre of the ring during his daughter JosephineтАЩs performance. He wanted nothing but his whip. + 

The basket packed in silence, they brought her bonnet to her, and smoothed her disordered hair, and put it on. Then they pressed about her, and bent over her in very natural attitudes, kissing and embracing her: and brought the children to take leave of her; and were a tenderhearted, simple, foolish set of women altogether. + 

тАЬNow, Jupe,тАЭ said Mr.┬аGradgrind. тАЬIf you are quite determined, come!тАЭ + 

But she had to take her farewell of the male part of the company yet, and every one of them had to unfold his arms (for they all assumed the professional attitude when they found themselves near Sleary), and give her a parting kissтБатАФMaster Kidderminster excepted, in whose young nature there was an original flavour of the misanthrope, who was also known to have harboured matrimonial views, and who moodily withdrew. Mr.┬аSleary was reserved until the last. Opening his arms wide he took her by both her hands, and would have sprung her up and down, after the riding-master manner of congratulating young ladies on their dismounting from a rapid act; but there was no rebound in Sissy, and she only stood before him crying. + 

тАЬGoodbye, my dear!тАЭ said Sleary. тАЬYouтАЩll make your fortun, I hope, and none of our poor folkth will ever trouble you, IтАЩll pound it. I with your father hadnтАЩt taken hith dog with him; ith a ill-conwenienth to have the dog out of the billth. But on thecond thoughth, he wouldnтАЩt have performed without hith mathter, tho ith ath broad ath ith long!тАЭ + 

With that he regarded her attentively with his fixed eye, surveyed his company with his loose one, kissed her, shook his head, and handed her to Mr.┬аGradgrind as to a horse. + 

тАЬThere the ith, Thquire,тАЭ he said, sweeping her with a professional glance as if she were being adjusted in her seat, тАЬand theтАЩll do you juthtithe. Goodbye, Thethilia!тАЭ + 

тАЬGoodbye, Cecilia!тАЭ тАЬGoodbye, Sissy!тАЭ тАЬGod bless you, dear!тАЭ In a variety of voices from all the room. + 

But the riding-master eye had observed the bottle of the nine oils in her bosom, and he now interposed with тАЬLeave the bottle, my dear; ith large to carry; it will be of no uthe to you now. Give it to me!тАЭ + 

тАЬNo, no!тАЭ she said, in another burst of tears. тАЬOh, no! Pray let me keep it for father till he comes back! He will want it when he comes back. He had never thought of going away, when he sent me for it. I must keep it for him, if you please!тАЭ + 

тАЬTho be it, my dear. (You thee how it ith, Thquire!) Farewell, Thethilia! My latht wordth to you ith thith, Thtick to the termth of your engagement, be obedient to the Thquire, and forget uth. But if, when youтАЩre grown up and married and well off, you come upon any horthe-riding ever, donтАЩt be hard upon it, donтАЩt be croth with it, give it a Bethpeak if you can, and think you might do wurth. People mutht be amuthed, Thquire, thomehow,тАЭ continued Sleary, rendered more pursy than ever, by so much talking; тАЬthey canтАЩt be alwayth a working, nor yet they canтАЩt be alwayth a learning. Make the betht of uth; not the wurtht. IтАЩve got my living out of the horthe-riding all my life, I know; but I conthider that I lay down the philothophy of the thubject when I thay to you, Thquire, make the betht of uth: not the wurtht!тАЭ + 

The Sleary philosophy was propounded as they went downstairs and the fixed eye of PhilosophyтБатАФand its rolling eye, tooтБатАФsoon lost the three figures and the basket in the darkness of the street. + 