Page:The Novels of Ivan Turgenev (volume VI).djvu/202

Rh the brisk, noisy hum of unceasing activity, the snorting and rattling of machines, the creaking of looms, the hum of wheels, the flapping of straps, while trollies, barrels, and loaded carts moved in and out; there was the sound of loudly shouted instructions, bells and whistles; workmen in smocks with belts round the waist, their hair bound round with a strap, work-girls in print dresses hurried by; horses were led by in harness. There was the busy hum of the labour of thousands of human beings strained to their utmost. Everything moved in regular, rational fashion, at full speed; but not only was there no attempt at style or neatness, there was not even any trace of cleanliness to be observed in anything anywhere; on the contrary, on all sides one was impressed by neglect, filth, grime. Here a window was broken and there the plaster was peeling off, the boards were loose, a door yawned wide open; a great, black puddle, covered with an irridescent film of slime, stood in the middle of the principal courtyard; further on lay some discarded bricks; bits of matting and sailcloth, boxes, scraps of rope lay wallowing in the mud; shaggy and lean dogs crept about, not even barking; in a corner under a fence sat a pot-bellied, dishevelled little boy of four, covered from head to foot with soot, crying