Hereoneandallwereduetodisembark。
　　Iglancedtowardsthesternoncemore。Thedark-browedwomanwasbreakingoffmorselsfromawheatensconethatwaslyinginherlap，andsayingasshedidso:
　　“Presentlywewillhaveacupoftea，andthenkeeptogetherasfarasChristopol。“
　　Inresponsetheyoungfellowedgednearertoher，andthoughtfullyeyedthelargehandswhich，thoughinuredtohardwork，couldalsobeverygentle。
　　“Ihavebeentroddenupon，“hesaid。
　　“Troddenuponbywhom？“
　　“Byall。AndIamafraidofthem。“
　　“Whyso？“
　　“BecauseIam。“
　　Breathinguponamorselofthescone，thewomanofferedithimwiththequietwords:
　　“Youhavehadmuchtobear。Now，shallItellyoumyhistory，orshallwefirsthavetea？“
　　Onthebanktherewasnowtobeseenthefrontageofthegay，wealthysuburbofUslon，withitsbrightly-dressed，rainbow-tintedwomenandgirlstrippingthroughthestreets，andthewaterofitsfoamingriversparklinghotly，yetdimly，inthesunlight。
　　Itwasascenelikeascenebeheldinavision。
　　AWOMAN
　　Thewindisscuddingoverthesteppe，andbeatingupontherampartoftheCaucasianheightsuntiltheirbackboneseemstobebellyinglikeahugesail，andtheearthtobewhirlingandwhizzingthroughunfathomabledepthsofblue，andleavingbehinditarackofwind-torncloudswhich，astheirshadowsglideoverthesurfaceoftheland，seemevertobestrivingtokeepintouchwiththeonrushofthegale，and，failingtomaintaintheeffort，dissolvingintearsanddespondency。
　　Thetreestooarebendingintheattitudeofflight——theirboughsarebrandishingtheirfoliageasadogworriesafleece，andlitteringtheblacksoilwithleavesamongwhichrunsaconstantqueruloushissingandrustling。Also，storksareutteringtheirsnappingcry，sleekrookscawing，steppegrasshoppersmaintainingtheirtirelesschirp，sturdy，well-grownhusbandmenutteringshoutslikewordsofcommand，thethreshing-floorsoftherollingsteppediffusingarainofgoldenchaff，andeddyingwhirlwindscatchingupstraypoultryfeathers，dried-onionstrips，andleavesyellowedwiththeheat，tosendthemdancingagainoverthetrimsquareofthelittleCossackhamlet。
　　Similarlydoesthesunkeepappearinganddisappearingasthoughhewerepursuingthefugitiveearth，andeverandanonhaltingthroughwearinessbeforehisdeclineintothedark，shadowyvistawherethesnowcladpeaksofthewesternmountainsarerearingtheirheads，andfast-reddeningcloudsareremindingoneofthesurfaceofaploughedfield。
　　AttimesthosecloudsparttheirbulktorevealinblindingsplendourthesilverysaddleofMountElburz，andthecrystalfangsofotherpeaks——all，apparently，strivingtocatchanddetainthescuddingvapours。Andtosuchapointdoesonecometorealisetheearth’sflightthroughspacethatonecanscarcelydrawone’sbreathforthetension，therapture，ofthethoughtthatwiththerushofthatdearandbeautifulearthoneselfiskeepingpacetowards，andevertendingtowards，theregionwhere，behindtheeternal，snow-cladpeaks，thereliesaboundlessoceanofblue——anoceanbesidewhichtheremayliestretchedyetotherproudandmarvellouslands，avoidofazureamidwhichonemaycometodescryfar-distant，many-tintedspheresofplanetsasyetunknown，butsisters，all，tothisearthofours。
　　Meanwhilefromthesteppeslow，ponderousgreyoxenwithsharphornsaredrawinganendlesssuccessionofwagon-loadsofthreshedgrainthroughrich，black，sootlikedust。Patientlythebeasts’roundeyesregardtheearth，whileonthetopofeachloadtherelollsaCossackwho，withfacesunburnttothelastpitchofswarthiness，andeyesreddenedwithexposuretothewind，andbeardmatted，seeminglysolidified，withdustandsweat，iscladinashirtdrabwithgrime，andhasashaggyPersiancapthrusttothebackofhishead。Occasionally，also，hemayheseenridingonthepoleinfrontofhisteam，andbeingbuffetedfrombehindbythewindwhichinflateshisshirt。AndassleekandcomfortableasthecarcassesofthebullocksaretheseCossacks’framesinproportiontheireyesaresluggishlyintelligent，andintheireverymovementisthedeliberateairofmenwhoknowpreciselywhattheyhavetodo。
　　“Tsob，tsobe！“suchfellowsshouttotheirteams。Thisyeartheyarereapingasplendidharvest。
　　Yetthoughthesefolk，oneandall，lookfatandprosperous，theirmienisdour，andtheyspeakreluctantly，andthroughtheirteeth。Possiblythisisbecausetheyareover-wearywithtoil。
　　Howeverthatmaybe，thefull-fedcountrypeopleoftheregionlaughbutlittle，andseldomsing。
　　Inthecentreofthehamletsoarstheredbrickchurchoftheplace——anedificewhich，withitsfivepinnacles，itsbelfryoveritsporch，anditsyellowplasterwindow-mouldings，lookslikeanedificethathasbeenfashionedofmeat，andcementedwithgrease。Nay，itsveryshadowseemssorichlyheavyastobetheshadowofafaneerectedbymenendowedwithaplethoraofthisworld’sgoodstoagodotioseinhisgrandeur。Rangedaroundthebuildinginringfashion，thehamlet’ssquatwhitehutsstandgirdledwithbeltsofplaitedwattle，shawledinthegorgeoussilkenscarvesofgardens，andcrownedwithafloweredbrocadeworkofreed-thatchedroofs。Infact，theyresembleabevyofbuxombabi，[Peasantwomen]asoverandaboutthemwavesilverpoplartrees，withquivering，lacelikeleavesofacacias，anddark-leavedchestnutstheleavesofthelatterlikethepalmsofhumanhandswhichrocktoandfroasthoughtheywouldfainseize，anddetainthedrivingclouds。Also，fromcourttocourtscurryCossackwomenwho，withskirt-tailstuckeduptorevealmuscularlegsbaretotheknee，arepreparingtoarraythemselvesforthemorrow’sfestival，and，meanwhile，chatteringtooneanother，orshoutingtoplumpinfantswhichmaybeseenbathinginthedustlikesparrows，orpickinguphandfulsofsand，andtossingthemintotheair。
　　Shelteredfromthewindbythechurchyardwall，theremaybeseenalso，astheysprawlonthedry，fadedherbage，ascoreof“
　　strollersforwork“thatistosay，offolkwho，acommunityapart，consistof“nowherepeople，“ofdreamerswholiveconstantlyinexpectationofsomestrokeofluck，somekindlysmilefromfortune，andofwastrelswho，intoxicatedwiththeabundantbountyoftheopulentregion，havefallenpassivevictimstotheRussiancrazeforvagrancy。Thesefolktrampfromhamlettohamletinpartiesoftwoorthree，and，whilepurportingtoseekemployment，merelycontemplatethatemploymentlethargically，expressastonishmentattheplenitudewhichitproduces，andthendeclinetoputtheirhandstotoilsavewhendirenecessityrendersitnolongerpossibletosatisfyhunger’spangsthroughtheexpedientsofmendicancyandtheft。Dull，orcowed，ortimid，orfurtiveofeye，thesefolkhavelostallsenseofthedifferencebetweenthatwhichconstituteshonestyandthatwhichdoesnot。
　　ThemorrowbeingtheFeastoftheAssumption，thesepeoplehave，inthepresentinstance，gatheredfromeveryquarterofthecountry，forthereasonthattheyhopetobeprovidedwithfoodanddrinkwithoutfirstbeingmadetoearntheirentertainment。
　　ForthemostparttheyareRussiansfromthecentralprovinces，vagabondswhosefacesareblackened，andheadsblanchedwiththeunaccustomedsunshineoftheSouth，butwhosebodiesarecladmerelyinragstossedandtumbledbythewind。True，thewearersofthoseragsdeclarethemselvestobepeaceful，respectablecitizenswhomtoilandlife’sbuffetingshaveexhausted，andcompelledtoseektemporaryrestandprayer；yetneverdoesacreaking，groaning，ponderousgrainwagon，withitsCossackdriver，passthembywithouttheiraccordingthelatterahumble，obsequioussaluteas，withstrawinmouth，andomitting，always，toraisehiscap，themanglancesatthemaskanceandwithcontempt，or，morefrequently，doesnotevendescrythesetattered，grimyhulksbetweenwhomandhimselfthereisabsolutelynothingincommon。
　　Lowereven，andmorenoticeably，morepretentiously，thantherestdoesacertain“needy“nativeofTulanamedKonevsaluteeachCossack。Ahardbittenmuzhikassunburntasastickofergot，hehasablackbearddistributedirregularlyoveraleanface，afawningsmile，andeyesdeep-sunkenintheirsockets。
　　MostofthesepersonsIhavemetforthefirsttimetoday；butKonevisanoldacquaintanceofmine，forheandIhavemorethanonceencounteredoneanotherontheroadbetweenKurskandtheprovinceofTer。An“artelni，“thatistosay，amemberofaworkman’sunion，hecultivateshisfellows’goodgracesforthereasonthatheisalsoanarrantcoward，andaccustomed，everywheresaveinhisownvillagewhichliesburiedamongthesandsofAlexin，toassertthat:
　　“Certainly，thiscountrysideisrich，yetIcannothitthingsoffwithitsinhabitants。Inmyownpartofthecountryfolkaremorespiritual，moretrulyRussian，byfarthanhere——theyarefolkwithwhomthenativesofthisregionarenottobecompared，sinceintheonelocalitythepopulationhasahumansoul，whereasintheotherlocalityitisaflint-stone。“
　　Andwithacertainquietreflectiveness，helovesalsotorecountamarvellousexampleofunlooked-forenrichment。Hewillsaytoyou:
　　“Maybeyoudonotbelieveinthevirtueofhorseshoes？YetI
　　tellYOUthatonce，whenacertainpeasantofEfremovfoundahorseshoe，thenextthreeweekssawitbefallthatthatpeasant’suncle，atradesmanofEfremov，wasburnttodeathwithallhisfamily，andthepropertydevolvedtothepeasant。Didyoueverhearofsuchathing？WhatisgoingtohappenCANNOTbeforetold，foratanymomentfortunemaypityaman，andsendhimawindfall。“
　　AsKonevsaysthishisdark，pointedeyebrowswillgoshootinguphisforehead，andhiseyescomeprotrudingoutoftheirsockets，asthoughhehimselfcannotbelievewhathehasjustrelated。
　　Again，shouldaCossackpasshimwithoutreturninghissalute，hewillmutterashefollowsthemanwithhiseyes:
　　“Anoverfedfellow，that——afellowwhocan’tevenlookatahumanbeing！Thesoulsofthesefolk，Itellyou，arewithered。“