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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。”
“Has—what has he missed？” asked Mr Gradgrind； glancing at
the potent Bounderby for assistance。
“Missed his tip。”
“Offered at the Garters four times last night； and never done
’em once；” said Master Kidderminster。 “Missed his tip at the
banners； too； and was loose in his ponging。”
“Didn’t do what he ought to do。 Was short in his leaps and bad
in his tumbling；” Mr Childers interpreted。
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“Oh！” said Mr Gradgrind； “that is tip； is it？”
“In a general way that’s missing his tip；” Mr E。 W。 B。 Childers
answered。
“Nine oils； Merrylegs； missing tips； garters； banners； and
Ponging； eh？” ejaculated Bounderby； with his laugh of laughs。
“Queer sort of company； too； for a man who has raised himself。”
“Lower yourself； then；” retorted Cupid； “Oh Lord！ if you’ve
raised yourself so high as all that comes to； let yourself down a
bit。”
“This is a very obtrusive lad！” said Mr Gradgrind turning； and
knitting his brows on him。
“We’d have had a young gentleman to meet you； if we had
known you were coming；” retorted Master Kidderminster； nothing
abashed。 “It’s a pity you don’t have a bespeak； being so particular。
You’re on the Tight…Jeff； ain’t you？”
“What does this unmannerly boy mean；” asked Mr Gradgrind；
eyeing him in a sort of desperation； “by Tight…Jeff？”
“There！ Get out； get out！” said Mr Childers； thrusting his young
friend from the room； rather in the prairie manner。 “Tight…Jeff or
Slack…Jeff； it don’t much signify： it’s only tight…rope and slack…
rope。 You were going to give me a message for Jupe？”
“Yes； I was。”
“Then；” continued Mr Childers； quickly； “my opinion is； he will
never receive it。 Do you know much of him？”
“I never saw the man in my life。”
“I doubt if you ever will see him now。 It’s pretty plain to me；
he’s off。”
“Do you mean that he has deserted his daughter？”
“Ay！ I mean；” said Mr Childers； with a nod； “that he has cut。 He
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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 can’t stand it。”
“Why has he been—so very much—Goosed？” asked Mr
Gradgrind； forcing the word out of himself； with great solemnity
and reluctance。
“His joints are turning stiff； and he is getting used up；” said
Childers。 “He has his points as a Cackler still； but he can’t get a
living out of them。”
“A Cackler！” Bounderby repeated。 “Here we go again！”
“A speaker； if the gentleman likes it better；” said Mr E。 W。 B。
Childers； superciliously throwing the interpretation over his
shoulder； and accompanying it with a shake of his long hair—
which all shook at once。 “Now； it’s 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。”
“Good！” interrupted Mr Bounderby。 “This is good； Gradgrind！
A man so fond of his daughter； that he runs away from her！ This is
devilish good！ Ha！ ha！ Now； I’ll tell you what； young man。 I haven’t
always occupied my present station of life。 I know what these
things are。 You may be astonished to hear it； but my mother ran
away from me。”
E。 W。 B。 Childers replied pointedly that he was not at all
astonished to hear it。
“Very well；” said Bounderby。 “I 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。 There’s no family pride about；
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me there’s no imaginative sentimental humbug about me； there’s
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； that’s what he is； in English。”
“It’s all the same to me what he is or what he is not； whether in
English or whether in French；” retorted Mr E。 W。 B。 Childers；
facing about。 “I am telling your friend what’s the fact； if you don’t
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；” remonstrated E。 W。 B。 with stern irony。 “Don’t give it
mouth in this building； till you’re called upon。 You have got some
building of your own； I dare say； now？”
“Perhaps so；” replied Mr Bounderby； rattling his money and
laughing。
“Then give it mouth in your own building； will you； if you
please？” said Childers。 “Because this isn’t a strong building； and
too much of you might bring it down！”
Eyeing Mr Bounderby from head to foot again； he turned from
him； as from a man finally disposed of； to Mr Gradgrind。
“Jupe 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。”
“Pray；” said Mr Gradgrind； “why will she never believe it of
him？”
“Because those two were one。 Because they were never
asunder。 Because； up to this time； he seemed to dote upon her；”
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said Childers； taking a step or two to look into the empty trunk。
Both Mr Childers 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 Sleary’s
company； and was understood to express； that they were always
on horseback。
“Poor Sissy！ He had better have apprenticed her；” said
Childers； giving his hair another shake； as he looked up from the
empty box。 “Now； he leaves her without anything to take to。”
“It is creditable to you； who have never been apprenticed； to
express that opinion；” returned Mr Gradgrind； approvingly。
“I never apprenticed？ I was apprenticed when I was seven year
old。”
“Oh！ Indeed？” said Mr Gradgrind； rather resentfully； as having
been defrauded of his good opinion。 “I was not aware of its being
the custom to apprentice young persons to—”
“Idleness；” Mr Bounderby put in with a loud laugh。 “No； by the
Lord Harry！ Nor I！”
“Her father always had it in his head；” resumed Childers；
feigning unconsciousness of Mr Bounderby’s existence； “that she
was to be taught the deuce…and…all of education。 How it got into his
head； I can’t say； I can only say that it never got out。 He has been
picking up a bit of reading for her； here—and a bit of writing for
her； there—and a bit of ciphering for her； somewhere else—these
seven years。”
Mr E。 W。 B。 Childers took one of his hands out of his pockets；
stroked his face and chin； and loo