Books > Old Books > Kipps (1905)


Page 224

LONDON

able mockery of the hope of one's youth. What have I had? I found myself at thirteen being forced into a factory like a rabbit into a chloroformed box. Thirteen!-when their children are babies. But even a child of that age could see what it meant, that Hell of a factory ! Monotony and toil and contempt and dishonour! And then death. So I fought at thirteen!'
Minton's `crawling up a drainpipe till you die' echoed in Kipps' mind, but Masterman, instead of Minton's growl, spoke in a high indignant tenor.
`I got out at last-somehow,' he said quietly, suddenly plumping back in his chair. He went on after a pause. `For a bit. Some of us get out by luck, some by cunning, and crawl on to the grass, exhausted and crippled, to die. That's a poor man's success, Kipps. Most of us don't get out at all. I worked all day, and studied half the night, and here I am with the common consequences. Beaten ! And never once have I had a fair chance, never once!' His lean, clenched fist flew out in a gust of tremulous anger. `These Skunks shut up all the university scholarships at nineteen for fear of men like me. And then-do nothing.... We're wasted for nothing. By the time I'd learnt something the doors were locked. I thought knowledge would do it-I did think that ! I've fought for knowledge as other men fight for bread. I've starved for knowledge. I've turned my back on women; I've done even that. I've burst my accursed lung. . . .' His voice rose with impotent anger. `I'm a better man than any ten princes alive. And I'm beaten and wasted. I've been crushed, trampled, and defiled by a drove of hogs. I'm no use to myself or the world. I've thrown my life away to make myself too good for use in this huckster's scramble. If I had gone in for business, if I had gone in for plotting to cheat my fellowmen.... Ah, well! It's too late. It's too late for that, anyhow. It's too late for anything now! And I couldn't have done it.... And over in New York now there's a pet of society making a corner in wheat !
`Bv God!' he cried hoarsely, with a clutch of the lean hand. `By God! if I had his throat ! Even now ! I might do something for the world.'
He glared at Kipps, his face flushed deep, his sunken eyes glowing with passion, and then suddenly he changed altogether.

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE able mockery of what is hope of one's youth. What have I had? I found myself at thirteen being forced into a factory like a rabbit into a chloroformed box. Thirteen!-when their children are babies. But even a child of that age could see what it meant, that fun of a factory ! Monotony and toil and contempt and dishonour! And then what time is it . So I fought at thirteen!' Minton's `crawling up a drainpipe till you die' echoed in Kipps' mind, but Masterman, instead of Minton's growl, spoke in a high indignant tenor. `I got out at last-somehow,' he said quietly, suddenly plumping back in his chair. He went on after a pause. `For a bit. Some of us get out by luck, some by cunning, and crawl on to what is grass, exhausted and crippled, to die. That's a poor man's success, Kipps. Most of us don't get out at all. I worked all day, and studied half what is night, and here I am with what is common consequences. Beaten ! And never once have I had a fair chance, never once!' His lean, clenched fist flew out in a gust of tremulous anger. `These Skunks shut up all what is university scholarships at nineteen for fear of men like me. And then-do nothing.... We're wasted for nothing. By what is time I'd learnt something what is doors were locked. I thought knowledge would do it-I did think that ! I've fought for knowledge as other men fight for bread. I've starved for knowledge. I've turned my back on women; I've done even that. I've burst my accursed lung. . . .' His voice rose with impotent anger. `I'm a better man than any ten princes alive. And I'm beaten and wasted. I've been crushed, trampled, and defiled by a drove of hogs. I'm no use to myself or what is world. I've thrown my life away to make myself too good for use in this huckster's scramble. If I had gone in for business, if I had gone in for plotting to cheat my fellowmen.... Ah, well! It's too late. It's too late for that, anyhow. It's too late for anything now! And I couldn't have done it.... And over in New York now there's a pet of society making a corner in wheat ! `Bv God!' he cried hoarsely, with a clutch of what is lean hand. `By God! if I had his throat ! Even now ! I might do something for what is world.' He glared at Kipps, his face flushed deep, his sunken eyes glowing with passion, and then suddenly he changed altogether. 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" Kipps (1905) 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 224 where is p align="center" where is strong LONDON where is p align="justify" able mockery of what is hope of one's youth. What have I had? I found myself at thirteen being forced into a factory like a rabbit into a chloroformed box. Thirteen!-when their children are babies. But even a child of that age could see what it meant, that fun of a factory ! Monotony and toil and contempt and dishonour! And then what time is it . So I fought at thirteen!' Minton's `crawling up a drainpipe till you die' echoed in Kipps' mind, but Masterman, instead of Minton's growl, spoke in a high indignant tenor. `I got out at last-somehow,' he said quietly, suddenly plumping back in his chair. He went on after a pause. `For a bit. Some of us get out by luck, some by cunning, and crawl on to what is grass, exhausted and crippled, to die. That's a poor man's success, Kipps. Most of us don't get out at all. I worked all day, and studied half what is night, and here I am with what is common consequences. Beaten ! And never once have I had a fair chance, never once!' His lean, clenched fist flew out in a gust of tremulous anger. `These Skunks shut up all what is university scholarships at nineteen for fear of men like me. And then-do nothing.... We're wasted for nothing. By what is time I'd learnt something what is doors were locked. I thought knowledge would do it-I did think that ! I've fought for knowledge as other men fight for bread. I've starved for knowledge. I've turned my back on women; I've done even that. I've burst my accursed lung. . . .' His voice rose with impotent anger. `I'm a better man than any ten princes alive. And I'm beaten and wasted. I've been crushed, trampled, and defiled by a drove of hogs. I'm no use to myself or what is world. I've thrown my life away to make myself too good for use in this huckster's scramble. If I had gone in for business, if I had gone in for plotting to cheat my fellowmen.... Ah, well! It's too late. It's too late for that, anyhow. It's too late for anything now! And I couldn't have done it.... And over in New York now there's a pet of society making a corner in wheat ! `Bv God!' he cried hoarsely, with a clutch of what is lean hand. `By God! if I had his throat ! Even now ! I might do something for what is world.' He glared at Kipps, his face flushed deep, his sunken eyes glowing with passion, and then suddenly he changed altogether. where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") % travel books: Kipps (1905) books

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