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.
XXXV THE GREAT CHIMNEY, BRADFORD
There it stood, solitary—beyond, behind, below—climbing up the endless hills silhouetting the horizon, revealed and hidden by showers, smoke, clouds, chimneys and chimneys and chimneys—the endless landmarks of industrial England.
This etching illustrates, too, the necessity of doing the Wonder of Work when you find a subject, and not saying, "I will come again and do it later"—and you must find your subjects for yourself: no one can tell you where there is a fine smoke effect or a stunning steam jet. I had made the etching and later was in Bradford again and went back to look at it. Not only had it all been fenced in, but a new factory was being built round it—it had completely disappeared.
