But now there was animation in their voices, and even gladness.

The servitude of hard toil was over for the day.

Supper awaited them at home, and respite.
The day was swallowed up by the factory; the machine sucked out of men's muscles as much vigor as it needed.

The day was blotted out from life, not a trace of it left.

Man made another imperceptible step toward his grave; but he saw close before him the delights of rest, the joys of the odorous tavern, and he was satisfied.
On holidays the workers slept until about ten o'clock.