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Page 072

THE TECHNICIAN WRITES ME

capitalist who, beneath the pretext of popular education, is attempting to lull the working class to sleep. Behind a capitalist's every action one must seek out the economic motive. Here it is all too clear . . .' I had talked to them on the first occasion about Victor Hugo, and on the second about The Child in French Poetry and I was sure of the purity of my intentions. I was stupefied and hurt. I was destined, alas, to encounter more serious injustices and to accustom myself to hatred, but at that time I was thinskinned and I stopped speaking in public.
Another thing that wounded me was my adventure with young Durufle. He was a boy about my own age, a weaver and the son of a weaver, whom I saw every day when I made the rounds of the workshops with my father: his fine, intelligent features had made an impression on me. With his narrow face and eyeglasses he had the look of a student or, more precisely, a pupil at the Polytechnique. I often stopped to talk with him and I discovered that appearances had not deceived me. He had a taste for intellectual activity and for reading: he complained about the town library which was little to his taste. I put mine at his disposal and invited him to come once a week to borrow books at my house. For several weeks he came, and I took pains to treat him as a friend.
`What I want to do,' I said to my father, `is to make him forget completely while he's here that I am the son of his boss.'
`I doubt if you will succeed,' my father said.
Three months later there was a short strike at the mill. The trade unions in this locality were moderate. They disputed questions of salaries and hours, as was their right, but until that time the tone of the debate had been without violence. On this occasion, for the first time, a truly hostile and malevolent speech was delivered against us, and the orator was young Durufle.
`What did I tell you?' my father remarked.
I admitted that I must have been very inept.
`But what got into him?' I asked. `Can it be that I offended him without knowing it?'
`You couldn't do anything but offend him,' my father said, `and it was for that reason that I disapproved of your methods. Even your kindness would offend him, and your library and the room in which you received him ... And I don't blame him. What you meant to be the treatment of an equal was condescension in his eyes, and I imagine that despite yourself

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE capitalist who, beneath what is pretext of popular education, is attempting to lull what is working class to sleep. Behind a capitalist's every action one must seek out what is economic motive. Here it is all too clear . . .' I had talked to them on what is first occasion about Victor Hugo, and on what is second about what is Child in French Poetry and I was sure of what is purity of my intentions. I was stupefied and hurt. I was destined, alas, to encounter more serious injustices and to accustom myself to hatred, but at that time I was thinskinned and I stopped speaking in public. Another thing that wounded me was my adventure with young Durufle. He was a boy about my own age, a weaver and what is son of a weaver, whom I saw every day when I made what is rounds of what is workshops with my father: his fine, intelligent features had made an impression on me. With his narrow face and eyeglasses he had what is look of a student or, more precisely, a pupil at what is Polytechnique. I often stopped to talk with him and I discovered that appearances had not deceived me. He had a taste for intellectual activity and for reading: he complained about what is town library which was little to his taste. I put mine at his disposal and invited him to come once a week to borrow books at my house. For several weeks he came, and I took pains to treat him as a friend. `What I want to do,' I said to my father, `is to make him forget completely while he's here that I am what is son of his boss.' `I doubt if you will succeed,' my father said. Three months later there was a short strike at what is mill. what is trade unions in this locality were moderate. They disputed questions of salaries and hours, as was their right, but until that time what is tone of what is debate had been without sports . On this occasion, for what is first time, a truly hostile and malevolent speech was delivered against us, and what is orator was young Durufle. `What did I tell you?' my father remarked. I admitted that I must have been very inept. `But what got into him?' I asked. `Can it be that I offended him without knowing it?' `You couldn't do anything but offend him,' my father said, `and it was for that reason that I disapproved of your methods. Even your kindness would offend him, and your library and what is room in which you received him ... And I don't blame him. What you meant to be what is treatment of an equal was condescension in his eyes, and I imagine that despite yourself where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" Call No Man Happy (1943) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 072 where is p align="center" where is strong what is TECHNICIAN WRITES ME where is p align="justify" capitalist who, beneath what is pretext of popular education, is attempting to lull what is working class to sleep. Behind a capitalist's every action one must seek out what is economic motive. Here it is all too clear . . .' I had talked to them on what is first occasion about Victor Hugo, and on what is second about what is Child in French Poetry and I was sure of what is purity of my intentions. I was stupefied and hurt. I was destined, alas, to encounter more serious injustices and to accustom myself to hatred, but at that time I was thinskinned and I stopped speaking in public. Another thing that wounded me was my adventure with young Durufle. He was a boy about my own age, a weaver and what is son of a weaver, whom I saw every day when I made what is rounds of what is workshops with my father: his fine, intelligent features had made an impression on me. With his narrow face and eyeglasses he had what is look of a student or, more precisely, a pupil at what is Polytechnique. I often stopped to talk with him and I discovered that appearances had not deceived me. He had a taste for intellectual activity and for reading: he complained about what is town library which was little to his taste. I put mine at his disposal and invited him to come once a week to borrow books at my house. For several weeks he came, and I took pains to treat him as a friend. `What I want to do,' I said to my father, `is to make him forget completely while he's here that I am what is son of his boss.' `I doubt if you will succeed,' my father said. Three months later there was a short strike at what is mill. what is trade unions in this locality were moderate. They disputed questions of salaries and hours, as was their right, but until that time what is tone of what is debate had been without sports . On this occasion, for what is first time, a truly hostile and malevolent speech was delivered against us, and what is orator was young Durufle. `What did I tell you?' my father remarked. I admitted that I must have been very inept. `But what got into him?' I asked. `Can it be that I offended him without knowing it?' `You couldn't do anything but offend him,' my father said, `and it was for that reason that I disapproved of your methods. Even your kindness would offend him, and your library and what is room in which you received him ... And I don't blame him. What you meant to be what is treatment of an equal was condescension in his eyes, and I imagine that despite yourself where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") % travel books: Call No Man Happy (1943) books

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