"A man! And are there really men like you?" Stepping aside he let the old man pass. He went, saying slowly: "Men are of various kinds ... as God wills... There are worse than me ... still worse ... Yes ..." The cloudy sky hung silently over the dirty yard and over the cleanly-dressed man with the pointed beard, who was walking about there, measuring distances with his steps and with his sharp eyes. On the roof of the old house a crow perched and croaked, thrusting its head now backwards, now forwards. In the lowering grey clouds, which hid the sky, there was something hard and merciless, as if they had gathered together to wash all the dirt off the face of this unfortunate, suffering, and sorrowful earth. [Transcriber's Note: I have made the following changes to the text: PAGE LINE ORIGINAL CHANGED TO 66 27 'But" But 75 17 listen listen. 75 25 then? then?" 76 1 Fool!' Fool!"] End of Project Gutenberg's Creatures that once were Men, by Maxim Gorky