An economist describes just exactly just how a commercial Revolution-era English training is not as bad since it appears (although it seems bad).
After a couple of a lot of rum-soaked basins of furmity, a person during the reasonable in Casterbridge spouts off, saying:
“For my component, we don’t realise why guys who ‘ve got wives and want that is don’t, shouldn’t get trip of ‘em as these gipsy fellows do their old horses. Why should not they place ‘em up and offer ‘em at auction to guys that are looking for such articles? Hey? Why, begad, I’d sell mine this moment if anybody would purchase her!”
That is accompanied by the inciting incident that kicks off Thomas Hardy’s The Mayor of Casterbridge. This is an isolated aberration, a lapse in judgment brought on by hitting the rum-laced furmity—a close relative of oatmeal, as unappetizing as that sounds in the work of fiction. ادامه مطلب …