* * * * *

IN EARLY WINTER

* * * * *

II

IN EARLY WINTER

First the leaves had become pale, deathly pale; later they turned
yellow-brown; and then they went fluttering and flickering, so wearily,
so slackly, like the wings of dying birds; and, one after the other, they
began to fall, dancing gently downwards, in eddies. They whirled in the
air, were carried on by the wind and at last fell dead and settled
somewhere in the mud.

Not a living thing was to be seen and the cottages that sat huddled close
to the ground remained fast shut; the smoke from the chimneys alone still
gave a sign of life.

The green drove now stood bare and bleak: two rows of straight trunks
which grew less and faded away in the blue mist.

Yonder comes something creeping up: a shapeless thing, like two little
black stripes, with something else; and it approaches....

At last and at length, out of those little stripes, appear a man and a
wife; and, out of the other thing, a barrel-organ on a cart, with a dog
between the wheels.