Analyze Story Elements



THOMAS
GRADGRIND,
sir.
A
man
of
realities.
A
man
of
facts
and
calculations.
A
man
who
proceeds
upon
the
 principle
that
two
and
two
are
four,
and
nothing
over,
and
who
is
not
to
be
talked
into
allowing
for
anything
 over.
Thomas
Gradgrind,
sir
‐
peremptorily
Thomas
‐
Thomas
Gradgrind.
With
a
rule
and
a
pair
of
scales,
and
 the
multiplication
table
always
in
his
pocket,
sir,
ready
to
weigh
and
measure
any
parcel
of
human
nature,
and
 tell
you
exactly
what
it
comes
to.
It
is
a
mere
question
of
figures,
a
case
of
simple
arithmetic.
You
might
hope
 to
get
some
other
nonsensical
belief
into
the
head
of
George
Gradgrind,
or
Augustus
Gradgrind,
or
John
 Gradgrind,
or
Joseph
Gradgrind
(all
supposititious,
non‐existent
persons),
but
into
the
head
of
Thomas
 Gradgrind
‐
no,
sir!


 In
such
terms
Mr.
Gradgrind
always
mentally
introduced
himself,
whether
to
his
private
circle
of
acquaintance,
 or
to
the
public
in
general.
In
such
terms,
no
doubt,
substituting
the
words
'boys
and
girls,'
for
'sir,'
Thomas
 Gradgrind
now
presented
Thomas
Gradgrind
to
the
little
pitchers
before
him,
who
were
to
be
filled
so
full
of
 facts.



Indeed,
as
he
eagerly
sparkled
at
them
from
the
cellarage
before
mentioned,
he
seemed
a
kind
of
cannon
 loaded
to
the
muzzle
with
facts,
and
prepared
to
blow
them
clean
out
of
the
regions
of
childhood
at
one
 discharge.
He
seemed
a
galvanizing
apparatus,
too,
charged
with
a
grim
mechanical
substitute
for
the
tender
 young
imaginations
that
were
to
be
stormed
away.



'Girl
number
twenty,'
said
Mr.
Gradgrind,
squarely
pointing
with
his
square
forefinger,




'I
don't
know
that
girl.
Who
is
that
girl?'



'Sissy
Jupe,
sir,'
explained
number
twenty,
blushing,
standing
up,
and
curtseying.



'Sissy
is
not
a
name,'
said
Mr.
Gradgrind.
'Don't
call
yourself
Sissy.
Call
yourself
Cecilia.'



'It's
father
as
calls
me
Sissy,
sir,'
returned
the
young
girl
in
a
trembling
voice,
and
with
another
curtsey.
...