My Childhood (1913) 2

Here, the young Maxim Gorky sits with his storytelling Uncle Grigory in his grandfather's dyeing workshop:

"I loved listening to those kind words and watching the red and gold fire flickering in the stove and milky white clouds of steam rising over the vats, leaving a dove-coloured crust, like hoar frost, on the sloping rafters of the roof, where jagged chinks let through blue patches of sky. The wind died down, the sun came out, and the whole yard seemed sprinkled with ground glass. The screeching of sleighs came from the street, light blue smoke curled up from the chimneys, and soft shadows glided over the snow as if they too had a story to tell." (56)