Full resolution (TIFF) - On this page / på denna sida - Danemora.
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wandered about in the catacombs of Rome and
Malta: and what does one see in the deep
passages? Gloom – darkness! What does one
feel? Cold, and a sense of oppression – a
longing for air and light, which is by far the
best; and that we have now.”
“But nevertheless, it is so very remarkable!”
said the man; and he drew forth his “Hand-book
for Travellers in Sweden,” from which he
read: “Danemora’s iron-works are the oldest,
largest, and richest in Sweden; the best in
Europe. They have seventy-nine openings, of
which seventeen only are being worked. The
machine mine is ninety-three fathoms deep.”
Just then the bells sounded from below: it
was the signal that the time of labour for that
day was ended. The hue of eve still shone on
the tops of the trees above; but down in that
deep, far-extended gulf, it was a perfect twilight.
Thence, and out of the dark caverns, the workmen
swarmed forth. They looked like flies,
quite small in the space below: they scrambled
up the long ladders, which hung from the steep
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