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them walked Lipa's mother Praskovya； who always fell behind； as
she was ill and short of breath。 It was drawing towards evening。
〃A…a…a 。 。 。〃 said Crutch； wondering as he listened to Lipa。
〃A…a！ 。 。 。 We…ell！
〃I am very fond of jam； Ilya Makaritch；〃 said Lipa。 〃I sit down
in my little corner and drink tea and eat jam。 Or I drink it with
Varvara Nikolaevna； and she tells some story full of feeling。 We
have a lot of jam four jars。 'Have some； Lipa； eat as much as
you like。' 〃
〃A…a…a； four jars！〃
〃They live very well。 We have white bread with our tea； and meat；
too； as much as one wants。 They live very well； only I am
frightened with them； Ilya Makaritch。 Oh； oh； how frightened I
am！〃
〃Why are you frightened； child？〃 asked Crutch； and he looked back
to see how far Praskovya was behind。
〃To begin with； when the wedding had been celebrated I was afraid
of Anisim Grigoritch。 Anisim Grigoritch did nothing； he didn't
ill…treat me； only when he comes near me a cold shiver runs all
over me； through all my bones。 And I did not sleep one night； I
trembled all over and kept praying to God。 And now I am afraid of
Aksinya； Ilya Makaritch。 It's not that she does anything； she is
always laughing； but sometimes she glances at the window； and her
eyes are so fierce and there is a gleam of green in them like
the eyes of the sheep in the shed。 The Hrymin Juniors are leading
her astray： 'Your old man；' they tell her； 'has a bit of land at
Butyokino； a hundred and twenty acres；' they say； 'and there is
sand and water there； so you； Aksinya；' they say； 'build a
brickyard there and we will go shares in it。' Bricks now are
twenty roubles the thousand； it's a profitable business。
Yesterday at dinner Aksinya said to my father…in…law： 'I want to
build a brickyard at Butyokino； I'm going into business on my own
account。' She laughed as she said it。 And Grigory Petrovitch's
face darkened； one could see he did not like it。 'As long as I
live；' he said； 'the family must not break up； we must go on
altogether。' She gave a look and gritted her teeth。 。 。 。
Fritters were served； she would not eat them。〃
〃A…a…a！ 。 。 。〃 Crutch was surprised。
〃And tell me； if you please； when does she sleep？〃 said Lipa。
〃She sleeps for half an hour； then jumps up and keeps walking and
walking about to see whether the peasants have not set fire to
something； have not stolen something。 。 。 。 I am frightened with
her； Ilya Makaritch。 And the Hrymin Juniors did not go to bed
after the wedding； but drove to the town to go to law with each
other； and folks do say it is all on account of Aksinya。 Two of
the brothers have promised to build her a brickyard； but the
third is offended； and the factory has been at a standstill for a
month； and my uncle Prohor is without work and goes about from
house to house getting crusts。 'Hadn't you better go working on
the land or sawing up wood； meanwhile； uncle？' I tell him； 'why
disgrace yourself？' 'I've got out of the way of it；' he says； 'I
don't know how to do any sort of peasant's work now； Lipinka。' 。
。 。〃
They stopped to rest and wait for Praskovya near a copse of young
aspen…trees。 Elizarov had long been a contractor in a small way；
but he kept no horses； going on foot all over the district with
nothing but a little bag in which there was bread and onions； and
stalking along with big strides； swinging his arms。 And it was
difficult to walk with him。
At the entrance to the copse stood a milestone。 Elizarov touched
it； read it。 Praskovya reached them out of breath。 Her wrinkled
and always scared…looking face was beaming with happiness； she
had been at church to…day like anyone else； then she had been to
the fair and there had drunk pear cider。 For her this was
unusual； and it even seemed to her now that she had lived for her
own pleasure that day for the first time in her life。 After
resting they all three walked on side by side。 The sun had
already set； and its beams filtered through the copse； casting a
light on the trunks of the trees。 There was a faint sound of
voices ahead。 The Ukleevo girls had long before pushed on ahead
but had lingered in the copse； probably gathering mushrooms。
〃Hey； wenches！〃 cried Elizarov。 〃Hey； my beauties！〃
There was a sound of laughter in response。
〃Crutch is coming！ Crutch！ The old horseradish。〃
And the echo laughed； too。 And then the copse was left behind。
The tops of the factory chimneys came into view。 The cross on the
belfry glittered： this was the village： 〃the one at which the
deacon ate all the caviare at the funeral。〃 Now they were almost
home； they only had to go down into the big ravine。 Lipa and
Praskovya； who had been walking barefooted； sat down on the grass
to put on their boots； Elizar sat down with them。 If they looked
down from above Ukleevo looked beautiful and peaceful with its
willow…trees； its white church； and its little river； and the
only blot on the picture was the roof of the factories； painted
for the sake of cheapness a gloomy ashen grey。 On the slope on
the further side they could see the rye some in stacks and
sheaves here and there as though strewn about by the storm； and
some freshly cut lying in swathes； the oats； too； were ripe and
glistened now in the sun like mother…of…pearl。 It was
harvest…time。 To…day was a holiday； to…morrow they would harvest
the rye and carry the hay； and then Sunday a holiday again； every
day there were mutterings of distant thunder。 It was misty and
looked like rain； and； gazing now at the fields； everyone
thought； God grant we get the harvest in in time； and everyone
felt gay and joyful and anxious at heart。
〃Mowers ask a high price nowadays；〃 said Praskovya。 〃One rouble
and forty kopecks a day。〃
People kept coming and coming from the fair at Kazanskoe： peasant
women； factory workers in new caps； beggars； children。 。 。 。 Here
a cart would drive by stirring up the dust and behind it would
run an unsold horse； and it seemed glad it had not been sold；
then a cow was led along by the horns； resisting stubbornly； then
a cart again； and in it drunken peasants swinging their legs。 An
old woman led a little boy in a big cap and big boots； the boy
was tired out with the heat and the heavy boots which prevented
his bending his legs at the knees； but yet blew unceasingly with
all his might at a tin trumpet。 They had gone down the slope and
turned into the street； but the trumpet could still be heard。
〃Our factory owners don't seem quite themselves 。 。 。〃 said
Elizarov。 〃There's trouble。 Kostukov is angry with me。 'Too many
boards have gone on the cornices。' 'Too many？ As many have gone
on it as were needed； Vassily Danilitch； I don't eat them with my
porridge。' 'How can you speak to me like that？' said he； 'you
good…for…nothing blockhead！ Don't forget yourself！ It was I made
you a contractor。' 'That's nothing so wonderful；' said I。 'Even
before I was a contractor I used to have tea every day。' 'You are
a rascal 。 。 。' he said。 I said nothing。 'We are rascals in this
world；' thought I； 'and you will be rascals in the next。 。 。 。'
Ha…ha…ha！ The next day he was softer。 'Don't you bear malice
against me for my words； M