Chapter XXXIV: The River of Work, Leeds, England

Slow-moving, filthy, black—here and there gleams of iridescence lovely as old glass—that come from oil waste on the water—it winds smellily through the Black County of England. There are many of these rivers in the world. Over them brood black, murky clouds, great black chimneys vomit black smoke, and then for a moment the sun breaks through and turns all to glory.