Every instant, the din grew louder. Nothing could be heard distinctly save a cow bellowing now and then, a barrel-organ accompanying the merry-go-round, the obstreperous wailing of _Dziads_, or the ear-splitting whistles of basket-makers. Truly, it was a very big fair, so crowded that one could scarce make one’s way forwards; and by the time that Boryna had reached the main square, he had to push and elbow a passage by main force amongst the stalls. And the things that were there! They could not be told or even conceived. How, then, is it possible to describe them? And, first, those lofty canvas booths, which stood in front of the convent in two rows, all of them devoted to articles for women’s use: pieces of linen cloth, and kerchiefs, suspended from poles, and all of them as scarlet as scarlet poppies, making the eyes ache; and then, close by, another booth hung with the same wares, but all of the purest yellow; and another, again, of the deep crimson of the beetroot.... But who could remember all these things? Lasses and women stood there in such serried crowds that there was not room, as they say, to thrust a stick in amongst them—some bargaining and choosing; and some only looking on, gloating over those things of beauty! Farther, there were stalls that positively blazed with beads, looking-glasses, tinsel ornaments, and ribbons and flowers—green and golden and many-coloured—and caps too ... and the Lord knows what besides! Elsewhere, the sellers of holy images had set them forth in glazed and gilded frames, so gloriously brilliant that (although they only stood ranged along the walls, or even lay along the ground) more than one peasant would take his hat off and make the sign of the Holy Cross. Boryna bought Yuzka the kerchief he had promised her in spring, and withdrew, pushing his way onwards to the swine-market beyond the monastery. He made but slow progress, owing both to the terrible crush and to the many interesting objects which he saw. The capmakers, for instance, had put up wide ladders in front of their shops, and embellished these with caps from top to bottom. The bootmakers had formed a real lane with trestles and horses, from which endless rows of boots dangled, suspended by the lugs: some of the common sort—tawny and only requiring to be greased lest the water should get in; some, lustrous with blacking like varnish; some, women’s boots, high-heeled, red-laced, and beautifully polished. Farther were the saddlers’ stalls, superb with horse-collars and harnesses hanging in festoon from many a peg. Then came the booths of the rope-makers, of them that sold nets, and of the itinerant sieve-venders; of those whose trade was to go from fair to fair with groats for sale; and of the wheelwrights and of the tanners. Elsewhere, tailors and furriers had set forth their respective goods, the latter pungent in the nostrils with the spices used to preserve them; and they, since winter was coming on, had customers not a few.