Mother

r of steam, people poured out of little gray houses into the street. With somber faces they hastened forward like frightened roaches, their muscles stiff from insufficient sleep. In the chill morn

h, abusive language rent the air with malice; and, to welcome the people, deafening sounds floated about-the heavy whir of machiner

es, and again they walked through the streets, with black, smoke-covered faces, radiating the sticky odor of machine oil, and showing the gleam of hungry tee

The day was blotted out from life, not a trace of it left. Man made another imperceptible step toward his g

indifference to church, went to hear mass. When they returned from church, they ate pirogs, the Russian national pastry, and again lay down to sleep until the evening. The accumul

was dry, and those who had umbrellas carried them, even if the sun was shining. Not everybody has overshoes

rarely, and then but faintly, did solitary sparks of impotent thought glimmer in the wearisome monotony of their talk. Returning home they quarreled with their wives, and often beat them, unsparing

Clutching tenaciously at every pretext for unloading themselves of this disquieting sensation, they fell on one another for mere trifles, wit

ere born with this disease of the soul inherited from their fathers. Like a black shadow it accompanie

ndignities they themselves had suffered; drunken and piteous, unfortunate and repulsive. Sometimes the boys would be brought home by the mother or the father, who had picked them up in the street or in a tavern, drunk to insensibility. The parents scolded

fought; they, too, had been beaten by their mothers and fathers. Life had always been like that. It flowed on monotonously and slowly somewhere down the muddy, turbid stream, year after year; and it was all

t, superficial interest by the stories of the places where he had worked. Afterwards the novelty wore off, the people got used to him, and he remai

ches with incredulity. His words aroused blind irritation in some, perplexed alarm in others, while still others were disturbed by a feeble, shadowy

f they feared he would throw something into their life which would disturb its straight, dismal course. Sad and difficult, it was yet even in its tenor. People were accustome

these people disappeared again, going off elsewhere, and those who remained in the factory li

hat for some fifty y

h a mistrustful, evil smile. He was the best locksmith in the factory, and the strongest man in the village. But he was insolent and disrespectf

od waiting in silence for the enemy. His face overgrown with a dark beard from his eyes to his neck, and his hands thickly covered with woolly hair, inspired everybody with fear. People were especially afraid of

rse, yellow teeth glistened terribly through the thick h

hen holding his head in an attitude of direct challenge, with a short, thick pipe betwee

e wan

ed for the authorities of the factory, and the police, and it was the epithet with whi

e day seized with the desire to pull him by the hair once

t tou

over the tall, slender figure of hi

"I am not going to giv

eyes wide, he waved t

olded his shaggy hands on h

a heavy breath and added

this he said

oney any more. Pash

k up everything?"

hat time, for three years, until his death, h

own bowl. He never beat her, never scolded, and never petted her. After supper he flung the dishes from the table-if his wife was not quick enough to remove them in time-put a bottle of whisky before him, and leaning his back against the wall, began in a hoarse voice that spread anguish about him to bawl a song, his mouth wide open and his eyes closed. The doleful sounds got entangled in his mustache, knocki

rolled in his bed, gnashing his teeth, his eyes tightly closed.

es, but said an operation was necessary and th

ll die by myself, dirt

tears in her eyes began to insist on an operation

will be worse for

he dog, an old drunkard and thief, Daniel Vyesovshchikov, a discharged smelter, and a few beggars of the suburb. His wife wept a little and quietly; Pavel did not weep at all. The villagers

way, but the dog remained for a long time, and sitting