r. Yolland bought two shares
that he might have a voice; Eustace was voted into the chair, and the
minority was left to consist of the greatly-soured representative of
the original Crabbe, and one other tradesman, who held on for the sake,
as it seemed, of maintaining adherence to the red pots and pans, as, at
any rate, risking nothing.
Of course I hated and dreaded it all, and it was only by that power
which made it so hard to say nay to Harold, that he got me down to look
at the very lair of the Hydriot Company. It was a melancholy place;
the buildings were so much larger, and the apparatus so much more
elaborate than there was any use for; and there were so few workmen,
and those so unhealthy and sinister-looking.
I remember the great red central chimney with underground furnaces all
round, which opened like the fiery graves where Dante placed the bad
Popes; and how dreadfully afraid I was that Dora would tumble into one
of them, so that I was glad to see her held fast by the fascination of
the never-superseded potter and his wheel fashioning the clay, while
Mr. Yolland discoursed and Harold muttered assents to some wonderful
scheme that was to economise fuel--the rock on which this furnace had
split.
It has been explained to me over and over again, and I never did more
than understand it for one moment, and if I did recollect all about it,
like a scientific dialogue, nobody would thank me for putting it in
here, so it will be enough to say that it sounded to me very
bewildering and horribly dangerous, not so much to the body as to the
pocket, and I thought the Hydriot bade fair to devour Boola Boola and
Harold, if not Arghouse and Eustace into the bargain.
They meant to have a Staffordshire man down to act as foreman and put
things on a better footing.
"I'll write to my brother to send one," said Mr. Yolland. "He's a
curate in the potteries; has a wonderful turn for this sort of thing."
"Have you a brother a clergyman?" I said, rather surprised, and to fill
up Harold's silence.
"Yes, my brother Ben. It's his first curacy, and his two years are all
but up. I don't know if he will stay on. He's a right down jolly good
fellow is Ben, and I wish he would come down here."
Neither of us echoed the wish. Harold had no turn for clergymen after
the specimen of Mr. Smith; and Mr. Yolland, though I could specify
nothing against him but that he was rough and easy, had offended me by
joining us, when I wa
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