Now a crowd of children, seated in a boat, rowed toward the middle of the river to rock there on the waves as in a cradle.

Trees stood out above the water; sometimes many of them are drowned in the overflow of the banks, and these stand in the water like islands.

From the shore a melancholy song is heard: "Oh, o-o-o, once more!" The steamer passes many rafts, splashing them with waves.

The beams are in continual motion under the blows of the waves; the men on the rafts in blue shirts, staggering, look at the steamer and laugh and shout something.

The big, beautiful vessel goes sidewise on the river; the yellow scantlings with which it is loaded sparkle like gold and are dimly reflected in the muddy, vernal water.