g his promise, Ignat took his son along on
one of his steamers, and here a new life, abounding in impressions, was
opened before Foma's eyes.

The beautiful and mighty "Yermak," Gordyeeff's steam tow-boat, was
rapidly floating down the current, and on each side the shores of the
powerful and beautiful Volga were slowly moving past him--the left side,
all bathed in sunshine, stretching itself to the very end of the sky
like a pompous carpet of verdure; the right shore, its high banks
overgrown with woods, swung skyward, sinking in stern repose.

The broad-bosomed river stretched itself majestically between the
shores; noiselessly, solemnly and slowly flowed its waters, conscious of
their invincible power; the mountainous shore is reflected in the water
in a black shadow, while on the left side it is adorned with gold and
with verdant velvet by a border of sand and the wide meadows. Here and
there villages appear on mountain and on meadow, the sun shines bright
on the window-panes of the huts and on the yellow roofs of straw, the
church crosses sparkle amid the verdure of the trees, gray wind-mill
wings revolve lazily in the air, smoke from the factory chimney rises
skyward in thick, black curling clouds. Crowds of children in blue, red
or white shirts, standing on the banks, shouted loudly at the sight of
the steamer, which had disturbed the quiet of the river, and from under
the steamer's wheels the cheerful waves are rushing toward the feet
of the children and splash against the bank. Now a crowd of children,
seated in a boat, rowed toward the middle of the river to rock there
on the waves as in a cradle. Trees stood out above the water; sometimes
many of them are drowned in the overflow of the banks, and these stand
in the water like islands. From the shore a melancholy song is heard:

"Oh, o-o-o, once more!"

The steamer passes many rafts, splashing them with waves. The beams are
in continual motion under the blows of the waves; the men on the rafts
in blue shirts, staggering, look at the steamer and laugh and shout
something. The big, beautiful vessel goes sidewise on the river; the
yellow scantlings with which it is loaded sparkle like gold and are
dimly reflected in the muddy, vernal water. A passenger steamer comes
from the opposite side and whistles--the resounding echo of the whistle
loses itself in the woods, in the gorges of the mountainous bank, and
dies away there. In the middle of the river the waves st