and had brought it in his pocket. Oh my
friends and feilow countrymen, the down-
trodden operatives of Coketown, oh my
fellow brothers and fellow workmen and
fellow citizens and fellow men, what a to-do
was there, when Slackbridge unfolded what
he called "that damning document," and held
it up to the gaze, and for the execration, of
the working-man community! "Oh my
fellow men, behold of what a traitor in the
camp of those great spirits who are enrolled
upon the holy scroll of Justice and of Union,
is appropriately capable! Oh my prostrate
friends, with the galling yoke of tyrants on
your necks and the iron foot of despotism
treading down your fallen forms into the dust
of the earth, upon which right glad would
your oppressors be to see you creeping on
your bellies all the days of your lives, like the
serpent in the garden — oh my brothers, and
shall I as a man not add my sisters too, what
do you say, now, of Stephen Blackpool, with a
slight stoop in his shoulders and about five
foot seven in height, as set forth in this
degrading and disgusting document, this blighting
bill, this pernicious placard, this abominable
advertisement; and with what majesty
of denouncement will you crush the viper,
who would bring this stain and shame upon
the Godlike race that happily has cast him
out for ever! Yes my compatriots, happily
cast him out and sent him forth! For you
remember how he stood here before you on
this platform; you remember how, face to
face and foot to foot, I pursued him through
all his intricate windings; you remember
how he sneaked, and slunk, and sidled, and
splitted of straws, until, with not an inch of
ground to which to cling, I hurled him out
from amongst us: an object for the undying
finger of scorn to point at, and for the
avenging fire of every free and thinking
mind, to scorch and sear! And now my
friends — my laboring friends, for I rejoice
and triumph in that stigma— my friends
whose hard but honest beds are made in toil,
and whose scanty but independent pots are
boiled in hardship; and, now I say, my friends,
what appellation has that dastard craven
taken to himself, when, with the mask torn
from his features, he stands before us in all
his native deformity, a What? A thief! A
plunderer! A proscribed fugitive, with a price
upon his head; a fester and a wound upon
the noble character of the Coketown operative!
Therefore, my band of brothers in a
sacred bond, to which your children and your
children's children yet unborn have set their
infant hands and seals, I propose to you on the
part of the United Aggregate Tribunal, ever
watchful for your welfare, ever zealous for
your benefit, that this meeting does Resolve:
That Stephen Blackpool, weaver, referred
to in this placard, having been already
solemnly disowned by the community of
Coketown Hands, the same are free from
the shame of his misdeeds, and cannot as
a class be reproached with his dishonest
actions!"

Thus Slackbridge; gnashing and perspiring
after a prodigious sort. A few stern voices
called out "No!" and a score or two hailed,
with assenting cries of "Hear hear!" the
caution from one man, "Slackbridge, y'or
over hetter int; y'or a goen too fast!" But
these were pigmies against an army; the
general assemblage subscribed to the gospel
according to Slackbridge, and gave three
cheers for him, as he sat demonstratively
panting at them.

These men and women were yet in the
streets, passing quietly to their homes, when
Sissy, who had been called away from Louisa
some minutes before, returned.

"Who is it?" asked Louisa.

"It is Mr. Bounderby," said Sissy, timid of
the name, "and your brother Mr. Tom, and
a young woman who says her name is Rachael,
and that you know her."

"What do they want, Sissy dear?"

"They want to see you. Rachael has been
crying, and seems angry."

"Father," said Louisa, for he was present,
"I cannot refuse to see them, for a reason
that will explain itself. Shall they come
in here?"

As he answered in the affirmative, Sissy
went away to bring them. She reappeared
with them directly. Tom was last; and
remained standing in the obscurest part of the
room, near the door.

"Mrs. Bounderby," said her husband,
entering with a cool nod, "I don't disturb you,
I hope. This is an unseasonable hour, but
here is a young wcman who has been making
statements which render rny visit necessary.
Tom Gradgrind, as your son, young Tom,
refuses for some obstinate reason or other to
say anything at all about those statements,
good or bad, I am obliged to confront her
with your daughter."

"You have seen me once before, young
lady," said Rachael, standing in front of
Louisa.

Tom coughed.

"You have seen me, young lady," repeated
Rachael, as she did not answer, "once before."

Tom coughed again.

"I have."

Rachael cast her eyes proudly towards Mr.
Bounderby, and said, " Will you make it
known, young lady, where, and who was
there?"

"I went to the house where Stephen
Blackpool lodged, on the night of his discharge
from his work, and I saw you there. He was
there too: and an old woman who did not
speak, and whom I could scarcely see, stood
in a dark corner. My brother was with me."

"Why couldn't you say so, young Tom?"
demanded Bounderby.

"I promised my sister I wouldn't." Which
Louisa hastily confirmed. "And besides,"
said the whelp bitterly, "she tells her own