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: You've got to fill the jug and take it home. The baby's starving. Malachi Gregson
: I don't like touching udders. Harry Gregson
: If you fetch milk for the baby every night I'll get you a bun of your own on a Friday. Malachi Gregson
: Every Friday?
: You once said to me that if there was a school in Cranford, you would not go. Do you stand by that? Harry Gregson
: There ain't no school, only a housework school. Mr. Carter
: There is a world out there that is full of books, and figures, and words, and rules, and symbols that make all of the parts of our society move together like one great and glorious machine. Harry Gregson
: [Quoting his father, a gypsy
] Learning's not for everybody.
: We are all born knowing nothing, and we can die that way should we so choose. Now, ignorance is not a crime. But it is a waste. And waste is sinful. Harry Gregson
: I don't know. Mr. Carter
: What don't you know? Harry Gregson
: Where to start. Mr. Carter
: I'll show you where to start.
[Harry's father has been falsely imprisoned for attempted murder
] Harry Gregson
: Sir, he's not guilty. Mr. Carter
: Can you vouch for his whereabouts on that night? Can you prove he was in another place? Otherwise occupied? Harry Gregson
: He was on Lady Ludlow's land. Poaching. Six brace of pheasants, two of snipe. I helped you write it in the ledger. Mr. Carter
: How do you know it was him? Harry Gregson
: I was there. I was helping. Mr. Carter
: Go home now.
] Mr. Carter
: Now, Harry!
[Lady Ludlow has forced Mr. Carter to stop tutoring Harry
] Mr. Carter
: I am sorry, Harry. Harry Gregson
: For what? Teaching me to read? Mr. Carter
: I will never be sorry for teaching you to read! I only regret that the world is such that you could be punished for learning. Harry Gregson
: You can't stop this happening, can you, Mr. Carter? Mr. Carter
: [Looks away