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“Now I tell you what； Gradgrind！” said Mr Bounderby。 “Turn
this girl to the rightabout； and there’s an end of it。”
“I am much of your opinion。”
“Do it at once；” said Bounderby； “has always been my motto
from a child。 When I thought I would run away from my egg…box
and my grandmother； I did it at once。 Do you the same。 Do this at
once！”
“Are you walking？” asked his friend。 “I have the father’s
address。 Perhaps you would not mind walking to town with me？”
“Not the least in the world；” said Mr Bounderby； “as long as
you do it at once！”
So； Mr Bounderby threw on his hat—he always threw it on； as
expressing a man who had been far too busily employed in making
himself； to acquire any fashion of wearing his hat—and with his
hands in his pockets； sauntered out into the hall。 “I never wear
gloves；” it was his custom to say。 “I didn’t climb up the ladder in
them。 Shouldn’t be so high up； if I had。”
Being left to saunter in the hall a minute or two while Mr
Gradgrind went upstairs for the address； he opened the door of
the children’s study and looked into that serene floorclothed
apartment； which； notwithstanding its book…cases and its cabinets
and its variety of learned and philosophical appliances； had much
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of the genial aspect of a room devoted to haircutting。 Louisa
languidly leaned upon the window looking out； without looking at
anything； while young Thomas stood sniffing revengefully at the
fire。 Adam Smith and Malthus； two younger Gradgrinds； were out
at lecture in custody； and little Jane； after manufacturing a good
deal of moist pipe…clay on her face with slate…pencil and tears； had
fallen asleep over vulgar fractions。
“It’s all right now； Lousia； it’s all right； young Thomas；” said Mr
Bounderby； “you won’t do so any more。 I’ll answer for it’s being all
over with father。 Well； Louisa； that’s worth a kiss； isn’t it？”
“You can take one； Mr Bounderby；” returned Louisa； when she
had coldly paused； and slowly walked across the room； and
ungraciously raised her cheek towards him； with her face turned
away。
“Always my pet； an’t you； Louisa？” said Mr Bounderby。 “Good…
bye； Louisa！”
He went his way； but she stood on the same spot； rubbing the
cheek he had kissed； with her handkerchief； until it was burning
red。 She was still doing this； five minutes afterwards。
“What are you about； Loo？” her brother sulkily remonstrated。
“You’ll rub a hole in your face。”
“You may cut the piece out with your penknife if you like； Tom。
I wouldn’t cry！”
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Chapter 5
The Key…Note
oketown； to which Messrs。 Bounderby and Gradgrind now
walked； was a triumph of fact； it had no greater taint of
C
fancy in it than Mrs Gradgrind herself。 Let us strike the
key…note； Coketown； before pursuing our tune。
It was a town of red brick； or of brick that would have been red
if the smoke and ashes had allowed it； but as matters stood it was a
town of unnatural red and black like the painted face of a savage。
It was a town of machinery and tall chimneys； out of which
interminable serpents of smoke trailed themselves for ever and
ever； and never got uncoiled。 It had a black canal in it； and a river
that ran purple with ill…smelling dye； and vast piles of building full
of windows where there was a rattling and a trembling all day
long； and where the piston of the steam…engine worked
monotonously up and down； like the head of an elephant in a state
of melancholy madness。 It contained several large streets all very
like one another； and many small streets still more like one
another； inhabited by people equally like one another； who all
went in and out at the same hours； with the same sound upon the
same payments； to do the same work； and to whom every day was
the same as yesterday and tomorrow； and every year the
counterpart of the last and the next。
These attributes of Coketown were in the main inseparable
from the work by which it was sustained； against them were to be
set off； comforts of life； which found their way all over the world；
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Hard Times 34
and elegances of life which made； we will not ask how much of the
fine lady； who could scarcely bear to hear the place mentioned。
The rest of its features were voluntary； and they were these。
You saw nothing in Coketown but what was severely workful。 If
the members of a religious persuasion built a chapel there—as the
members of eighteen religious persuasions had done—they made
it a pious warehouse of red brick； with sometimes （but this is only
in highly ornamented examples） a bell in a bird…cage on the top of
it。 The solitary exception was the New Church； a stuccoed edifice
with a square steeple over the door； terminating in four short
pinnacles like florid wooden legs。 All the public inscriptions in the
town were painted alike； in severe characters of black and white。
The jail might have been the infirmary； the infirmary might have
been the jail； the town…hall might have been either； or both or
anything else； for anything that appeared to the contrary in the
graces of their construction。 Fact； fact； fact； everywhere in the
material aspect of the town； fact； fact； fact； everywhere in the
immaterial。 The M’Choakumchild school was all fact； and the
school of design was all fact； and the relations between master and
man were all fact； and everything was fact between the lying…in
hospital and the cemetery； and what you couldn’t state in figures；
or show to be purchasable in the cheapest market and saleable in
the dearest； was not； and never should be； world without end；
Amen。
A town so sacred to fact； and so triumphant in its assertion； of
course got on well？ Why； no； not quite well。 No？ Dear me！
No。 Coketown did not come out of its own furnaces； in all
respects like gold that had stood the fire。 First； the perplexing
mystery of the place was； Who belonged to the eighteen
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denominations？ Because； who ever did； the labouring people did
not。 It was very strange to walk through the streets on a Sunday
morning； and note how few of them the barbarous jangling of bells
that was driving the sick and nervous mad； called away from their
own quarter； from their own close rooms； from the corners of their
own streets； where they lounged listlessly； gazing at all the church
and chapel going； as at a thing with which they had no manner of
concern。 Nor was it merely the stranger who noticed this； because
there was a native organisation in Coketown itself； whose
members were to be heard of in the House of Commons every
session； indignantly petitioning for acts of parliament that should
make these people religious by main force。 Then came the
Teetotal Society； who complained that these same people would
get drunk； and showed in tabular statements that they did get
drunk； and proved at tea parties that no inducement； human or
Divine （except a medal）； would induce them to forego their custom
of getting drunk。 Then came the chemist and druggist； with other
tabular statements； showing that when they didn’t get drunk； they
took opium。 Then came the experienced chaplain of t