📱 eBook en inglés HARD TIMES

The scene was a plain, bare, monotonous vault of a school-room, and the speakers square forefinger emphasized his observations by underscoring every sentence with a line on the schoolmasters sleeve.
The emphasis was helped by the speakers hair, which bristled on the skirts of his bald head, a plantation of firs to keep the wind from its shining surface, all covered with knobs, like the crust of a plum pie, as if the head had scarcely warehouse-room for the hard facts stored inside. The speakers obstinate carriage, square coat, square legs, square shoulders,—nay, his very neckcloth, trained to take him by the throat with an unaccommodating grasp, like a stubborn fact, as it was,—all helped the emphasis.
In this life, we want nothing but Facts, sir; nothing but Facts!
The speaker, and the schoolmaster, and the third grown person present, all backed a little, and swept with their eyes the inclined plane of little vessels then and there arranged in order, ready to have imperial gallons of facts poured into them until they were full to the brim…"