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The Jungle | Upton Sinclair | |
Chapter 18 |
Page 3 of 8 |
A policeman gave him his direction and told him that he had five miles to go. He came again to the slum districts, to avenues of saloons and cheap stores, with long dingy red factory buildings, and coalyards and railroad tracks; and then Jurgis lifted up his head and began to sniff the air like a startled animal--scenting the far-off odor of home. It was late afternoon then, and he was hungry, but the dinner invitations hung out of the saloons were not for him. So he came at last to the stockyards, to the black volcanoes of smoke and the lowing cattle and the stench. Then, seeing a crowded car, his impatience got the better of him and he jumped aboard, hiding behind another man, unnoticed by the conductor. In ten minutes more he had reached his street, and home. He was half running as he came round the corner. There was the house, at any rate--and then suddenly he stopped and stared. What was the matter with the house? Jurgis looked twice, bewildered; then he glanced at the house next door and at the one beyond--then at the saloon on the corner. Yes, it was the right place, quite certainly--he had not made any mistake. But the house--the house was a different color! He came a couple of steps nearer. Yes; it had been gray and now it was yellow! The trimmings around the windows had been red, and now they were green! It was all newly painted! How strange it made it seem! |
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The Jungle Upton Sinclair |
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