34 MY FARM. 



cloaked figures passing through ; portmanteaus fall 

 with a slump, and huge dressing cases fall with a 

 slam, upon what seems, by the ear, to be pavement ; 

 luggage tracks keep up an uneasy rattle ; brakemen 

 somewhere in still lower depths strike dinning blows 

 upon the wheels, to test their soundness ; newsboys, 

 moving about the murky shades like piebald imps, 

 lend a shrill treble to the uproar ; the policeman's 

 star twinkles somewhere in the foreground ; upon 

 the begrimed stairway, figures flit mysteriously up 

 and down ; there is the shriek of a steam whistle 

 somewhere in the front ; a shock to the train ; a new 

 deluge of smoke rolls back and around newsboys, po- 

 lice, cabmen, stairway, and all ; there is a crazy shotit 

 of some official, a jerk, a dash figures still flitting up 

 and down the sooty stairway and so, a progress into 

 day (which seemed never more welcome). Again 

 the backs of shops, of houses, heaps of debris, as if 

 all the shop people and all the dwellers in all the 

 houses were fed only on lobsters and other shellfish ; a 

 widening of the sluice, a gradual recovery of position 

 to the surface of the ground in time to see a few tall 

 chimneys, a great hulk of rock, with something glis- 

 tening on its summit, a turbid river bordered with 

 sedges, a clump of coquettish pine trees and the 

 conductor tells you all this is the beautiful city of 

 N h . 



