Mary Barton [by E.C. Gaskell]. |
Palavras e frases frequentes
afore Alice Alice Wilson Ancoats asked Mary babby began better bless blue Peter bread Brummagem chap Chartist child clemmed clothes comfort Davenport dead dear door Esther eyes face factory father feeling fell felt fire George Wilson girl give Gloppened gone gotten grandfather hand happy Harry Carson hear heard heart Jack Harris Jem Wilson Jem's Jennings Job Legh John Barton John Slater knew Lancashire lass listen live look Manchester Manx cat Margaret Mary Barton Mary's masters mind Miss Simmonds missis mother MOUNT SOREL neighbour never night nought poor pretty quiet round Sally seemed sleep sorrow speak stood street sure talk tears tell thee there's thing thou thought told took turned voice walk wife wished woman words young
Passagens conhecidas
Página 25 - ... heaving to and fro. So silently we seemed to speak, So slowly moved about, As we had lent her half our powers To eke her living out. Our very hopes belied our fears, Our fears our hopes belied — We thought her dying when she slept, And sleeping when she died. For when the morn came dim and sad, And chill with early showers, Her quiet eyelids closed — she had Another morn than ours.
Página 195 - Mary, canst thou wreck his peace, Wha for thy sake wad gladly die? Or canst thou break that heart of his, Whase only faut is loving thee ? If love for love thou wilt na gie, At least be pity to me shown ! A thought ungentle canna be The thought o
Página 266 - The actions of the uneducated seem to me typified in those of Frankenstein, that monster of many human qualities, ungifted with a soul, a knowledge of the difference between good and evil. The people rise up to life; they irritate us, they terrify us, and we become their enemies. Then, in the sorrowful moment of our triumphant power, their eyes gaze on us with mute reproach. Why have we made them what they are; a powerful monster, yet without the inner means for peace and happiness?
Página 11 - We're their slaves as long as we can work ; we pile up their fortunes with the sweat of our brows, and yet we are to live as separate as if we were in two worlds ; ay, as separate as Dives and Lazarus, with a great gulf betwixt us : but I know who was best off then,'' and he wound up his speech with a low chuckle that had no mirth in it.
Página 32 - ... when he would bear and endure much without complaining, could he also see that his employers were bearing their share; he is, I say, bewildered and (to use his own word) "aggravated" to see that all goes on just as usual with the mill-owners. Large houses are still occupied, while spinners' and weavers' cottages stand empty, because the families that once filled them are obliged to live in rooms or cellars.
Página vii - I became to give some utterance to the agony which, from time to time, convulses this dumb people; the agony of suffering without the sympathy of the happy, or of erroneously believing that such is the case.
Página 173 - Yet little cares the world, and less 'twould know About the toil and want men undergo. The wearying loom doth call them up at morn ; They work till worn-out nature sinks to sleep ; They taste, but are not fed. The snow drifts deep Around the fireless cot, and blocks the door ; The night-storm howls a dirge across the moor ; And shall they perish thus — oppressed and lorn ? Shall toil and famine, hopeless, still be borne ? No ! God will yet arise and help the poor ! " Amen ! " said Barton, solemnly...
Página 89 - ... they arrived in Berry Street. It was unpaved; and down the middle a gutter forced its way, every now and then forming pools in the holes with which the street abounded.
Página 90 - Davenport, the smell was so foetid as almost to knock the two men down. Quickly recovering themselves, as those inured to such things do, they began to penetrate the thick darkness of the place, and to see three or four little children rolling on the damp, nay wet brick floor, through which the stagnant, filthy moisture of the street oozed up; the fireplace was empty and black; the wife sat on her husband's lair, and cried in the dark loneliness.
Página 91 - silver and gold he had none," he gave heart-service, and love-works of far more value. Nor was John Barton behind in these. "The fever" was (as it usually is in Manchester) of a low, putrid, typhoid kind; brought on by miserable living, filthy neighbourhood, and great depression of mind and body. It is virulent, malignant, and highly infectious. But the poor are fatalists with regard to infection ; and well for them it is so, for in their crowded dwellings no invalid can be isolated. Wilson asked...