MASTER AND MAN.........................................................................................................................................1

Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy ........................................................................................................................1

I...............................................................................................................................................................1

II ..............................................................................................................................................................5

III .............................................................................................................................................................9

IV..........................................................................................................................................................14

V ............................................................................................................................................................18

VI..........................................................................................................................................................22

VII .........................................................................................................................................................26

VIII ........................................................................................................................................................27

IX..........................................................................................................................................................29

X ............................................................................................................................................................32

It happened in the 'seventies in winter, on the day after St. Nicholas's Day. There was a fete in the parish and

the innkeeper, Vasili Andreevich Brekhunov, a Second Guild merchant, being a church elder had to go to

But when the last of them had gone he at once began to prepare to drive over to see a neighbouring proprietor

about a grove which he had been bargaining over for a long time. He was now in a hurry to start, lest buyers

The youthful landowner was asking ten thousand rubles for the grove simply because Vasili Andreevich was

offering seven thousand. Seven thousand was, however, only a third of its real value. Vasili Andreevich

might perhaps have got it down to his own price, for the woods were in his district and he had a longstand

agreement with the other village dealers that no one should run up the price in another's district, but he had

now learnt that some timber dealers from town meant to bid for the Goryachkin grove, and he resolved to go

at once and get the matter settled. So as soon as the feast was over, he took seven hundredrubles from his

strong box, added to them two thousand three hundred rubles of church money he had in his keeping, so as to

make up the sum to three thousand; carefully counted the notes, and having put them into his pocketbook

Nikita, the only one of Vasili Andreevich's labourers who was not drunk that day, ran to harness the horse.

Nikita, though an habitual drunkard, was not drunk that day because since the last day before the fast, when

he had drunk his coat and leather boots, he had sworn off drink and had kept his vow for two months, and

was still keeping it despite the temptation of the vodka that had been drunk everywhere during the first two

Nikita was a peasant of about fifty from a neighbouring village, "nat a manager" as the peasants said of him,

meaning that he was not the thrifty head of a household but lived most of his time away from home as a

labourer. He was valued everywhere for his industry, dexterity, and strength at work, and still more for his

kindly and pleasant temper. But he never settled down anywhere for long because about twice a year, or even

oftener, he had a drinking bout, and then besides spending all his clothes on drink he became turbulent and

quarrelsome. Vasili Andreevich himself had turned him away several times, but had afterwards taken him

back again valuing his honesty, his kindness to animals, and especially his cheapness. Vasili Andreevich

did not pay Nikita the eighty rubles a year such a man was worth, but only about forty, which he gave him

haphazard, in small sums, and even that mostly not in cash but in goods from his own shop and at high prices.

Nikita's wife Martha, who had once been a handsome vigorous woman, managed the homestead with the help

of her son and two daughters, and did not urge Nikita to live at home: first because she had been living for

some twenty years already with a cooper, a peasant from another village who lodged in their house; and

secondly because though she managed her husband as she pleased when he was sober, she feared him like

fire when he was drunk. Once when he had got drunk at home, Nikita, probably to make up for his

submissiveness when sober, broke open her box, took out her best clothes, snatched up an axe, and chopped

all her undergarments and dresses to bits. All the wages Nikita earned went to his wife, and he raised no

objection to that. So now, two days before the holiday, Martha had been twice to see Vasili Andreevich and

had got from him wheat flour, tea, sugar, and a quart of vodka, the lot costing three rubles, and also five

rubles in cash, for which she thanked him as a special favour, though he owed Nikita at least twenty rubles.

"What agreement did we ever draw up with you?" said Vasili Andreevich to Nikita. "If you need anything,

take it; you will work it off. I'm not like others to keep you waiting, and making up accounts and reckoning

And when saying this Vasili Andreevich was honestly convinced that he was Nikita's benefactor, and he

knew how to put it so plausibly that all those who depended on him for their money, beginning with Nikita,

confirmed him in the conviction that he was their benefactor and did not overreach them.

"Yes, I understand, Vasili Andreevich. You know that I serve you and take as much pains as I would for my

own father. I understand very well!" Nikita would reply. He was quite aware that Vasili Andreevich was

cheating him, but at the same time he felt that it was useless to try to clear up his accounts with him or

explain his side of the matter, and that as long as he had nowhere to go he must accept what he could get.

Now, having heard his master's order to harness, he went as usual cheerfully and willingly to the shed,

stepping briskly and easily on his rather turnedin feet; took down from a nail the heavy tasseled leather

bridle, and jingling the rings of the bit went to the closed stable where the horse he was to harness was

"What, feeling lonely, feeling lonely, little silly?" said Nikita in answer to the low whinny with which he was

greeted by the goodtempered, mediumsized bay stallion, with a rather slanting crupper, who stood alone in

the shed. "Now then, now then, there's time enough. Let me water you first," he went on, speaking to the

horse just as to someone who understood the words he was using and having whisked the dusty, grooved

back of the wellfed young stallion with the skirt of his coat, he put a bridle on his handsome head,

straightened his ears and forelock, and having taken off his halter led him out to water.

Picking his way out of the dungstrewn stable, Mukhorty frisked, and making play with his hind leg

pretended that he meant to kick Nikita, who was running at a trot beside him to the pump.

"Now then, now then, you rascal!" Nikita called out, well knowing how carefully Mukhorty threw out his

hind leg just to touch his greasy sheepskin coat but not to strike him a trick Nikita much appreciated.

After a drink of the cold water the horse sighed, moving his strong wet lips from the hairs of which

transparent drops fell into the trough; then standing still as if in thought, he suddenly gave a loud snort.

"If you don't want more, you needn't. But don't go asking for any later," said Nikita quite seriously and fully

explaining his conduct to Mukhorty. Then he ran back to the shed pulling the playful young horse, who

There was no one else in the yard except a stranger, the cook's husband, who had come for the holiday.

"Go and ask which sledge is to be harnessed the wide one or the small one there's a good fellow!"

The cook's husband went into the house, which stood on an iron foundation and was iron roofed, and soon

returned saying that the little one was to be harnessed. By that time Nikita had put the collar and

brassstudded bellyband on Mukhorty and, carrying a light, painted shaftbow in one hand, was leading the

"All right, let it be the little one!" he said, backing the intelligent horse, which all the time kept pretending to

bite him, into the shafts, and with the aid of the cook's husband he proceeded to harness. When everything

was nearly ready and only the reins had to be adjusted, Nikita sent the other man to the shed for some straw

"There, that's all right! Now, now, don't bristle up!" said Nikita, pressing down into the sledge the freshly

threshed oat straw the cook's husband had brought. "And now let's spread the sacking like this, and the

drugget over it. There, like that it will be comfortable sitting," he went on, suiting the action to the words and

"Thank you, dear man. Things always go quicker with two working at it!" he added. And gathering up the

leather reins fastened together by a brass ring, Nikita took the driver's seat and started the impatient horse

"Uncle Nikita! I say, Uncle, Uncle!" a highpitched voice shouted, and a sevenyearold boy in a black

sheepskin coat, new white felt boots, and a warm cap, ran hurriedly out of the house into the yard. "Take me

"All right, come along, darling!" said Nikita, and stopping the sledge he picked up the master's pale thin little

It was past two o'clock and the day was windy, dull, and cold, with more than twenty degrees Fahrenheit of

frost. Half the sky was hidden by a lowering dark cloud. In the yard it was quiet, but in the street the wind

was felt more keenly. The snow swept down from a neighbouring shed and whirled about in the corner near

Hardly had Nikita driven out of the yard and turned the horse's head to the house, before Vasili Andreevich

emerged from the high porch in front of the house with a cigarette in his mouth and wearing a clothcovered

sheepskin coat tightly girdled low at his waist, and stepped onto the hard trodden snow which squeaked

under the leather soles of his felt boots, and stopped. Taking a last whiff of his cigarette he threw it down,

stepped on it, and letting the smoke escape through his moustache and looking askance at the horse that was

coming up, began to tuck in his sheepskin collar on both sides of his ruddy face, cleanshaven except for the

"See now! The young scamp is there already!" he exclaimed when he saw his little son in the sledge. Vasili

Andreevich was excited by the vodka he had drunk with his visitors, and so he was even more pleased than

usual with everything that was his and all that he did. The sight of his son, whom he always thought of as his

heir, now gave him great satisfaction. He looked at him, screwing up his eyes and showing his long teeth.

His wife pregnant, thin and pale, with her head and shoulders wrapped in a shawl so that nothing of her

face could be seen but her eyes stood behind him in the vestibule to see him off.

"Now really, you ought to take Nikita with you," she said timidly, stepping out from the doorway.

Vasili Andreevich did not answer. Her words evidently annoyed him and he frowned angrily and spat.

"You have money on you," she continued in the same plaintive voice. "What if the weather gets worse! Do

"Why? Don't I know the road that I must needs take a guide?" exclaimed Vasili Andreevich, uttering every

word very distinctly and compressing his lips unnaturally, as he usually did when speaking to buyers and

"Really you ought to take him. I beg you in God's name!" his wife repeated, wrapping her shawl more closely

"I'm quite ready to go with you, Vasili Andreevich," said Nikita cheerfully. "But they must feed the horses

"Well, Vasili Andreevich, am I to come with you?" said Nikita, awaiting a decision.

"It seems I must humour my old woman. But if you're coming you'd better put on a warmer cloak," said

Vasili Andreevich, smiling again as he winked at Nikita's short sheepskin coat, which was torn under the

arms and at the back, was greasy and out of shape, frayed to a fringe round the skirt, and had endured many

"Hey, dear man, come and hold the horse!" shouted Nikita to the cook's husband, who was still in the yard.

"No, I will myself, I will myself!" shrieked the little boy, pulling his hands, red with cold, out of his pickets,

"Only a moment, Father, Vasili Andreevich!" replied Nikita, and running quickly with his in turned toes in

his felt boots with their soles patched with felt, he hurried across the yard and into the workmen's hut.

"Arinushka! Get my coat down from the stove. I'm going with the master," he said, as he ran into the hut and

The workmen's cook, who had had a sleep after dinner and was now getting the samovar ready for her

husband, turned cheerfully to Nikita, and infected by his hurry began to move as quickly as he did, got down

his miserable wornout cloth coat from the stove where it was drying, and began hurriedly shaking it out and

"There now, you'll have a chance of a holiday with your good man," said Nikita, who from kindhearted

Then, drawing his worn narrow girdle around him, he drew in his breath, pulling in his lean stomach still

"There now," he said addressing himself no longer to the cook but the girdle, as he tucked the ends in at the

waist, "now you won't come undone!" And working his shoulders up and down to free his arms, he put the

coat over his sheepskin, arched his back more strongly to ease his arms, poked himself under the armpits, and

Nikita stopped as if he had suddenly realized this. "Yes, I ought to. ... But they'll do like this. It isn't far!" and

"Cold? No, I'm quite warm," answered Nikita as he pushed some straw up to the forepart of the sledge so that

it should cover his feet, and stowed away the whip, which the good horse would not need, at the bottom of

Vasili Andreevich, who was wearing two furlined coats one over the other, was already in the sledge, his

broad back filling nearly its whole rounded width, and taking the reins he immediately touched the horse.

Nikita jumped in just as the sledge started, and seated himself in front on the left side, with one leg hanging

The good stallion took the sledge along at a brisk pace over the smoothfrozen road through the village, the

"Look at him hanging on there! Hand me the whip, Nikita!" shouted Vasili Andreevich, evidently enjoying

the sight of his "heir," who standing on the runners was hanging on at the back of the sledge. "I'll give it you!

The boy jumped down. The horse increased his amble and, suddenly changing foot, broke into a fast trot.

The Crosses, the village where Vasili Andreevich lived, consisted of six houses. As soon as they had passed

the blacksmith's hut, the last in the village, they realized that the wind was much stronger than they had

thought. The road could hardly be seen. The tracks left by the sledgerunners were immediately covered by

snow and the road was only distinguished by the fact that it was higher than the rest of the ground. There was

a whirl of snow over the fields and the line where sky and earth met could not been seen. The Telyatin forest,

usually clearly visible, now only loomed up occasionally and dimly through the driving snowy dust. The

wind came from the left, insistently blowing over to one side the mane on Mukhorty's sleek neck and

carrying aside even his fluffy tail, which was tied in a simple knot. Nikita's wide coatcollar, as he sat on the

"This road doesn't give him a chance it's too snowy," said Vasili Andreevich, who prided himself on his

"Well, did you tell your wife not to give the cooper any vodka?" he began in the same loud tone, quite

convinced that Nikita must feel flattered to be talking with so clever and important a person as himself, and

he was so pleased with his jest that it did not enter his head that the remark might be unpleasant to Nikita.

"That's their business, Vasili Andreevich. I don't pry into their affairs. As long as she doesn't illtreat our boy

"That's so," said Vasili Andreevich. "Well, and will you be buying a horse in spring?" he went on, changing

"Yes, I can't avoid it," answered Nikita, turning down his collar and leaning back towards his master.

The conversation now became interesting to him and he did not wish to lose a word.

"The lad's growing up. He must begin to plough for himself, but till now we've always had to hire someone,"

"Well, why not have the leancruppered one. I won't charge much for it," shouted Vasili Andreevich, feeling

animated, and consequently starting on his favourite occupation that of horse dealing which absorbed

"Or you might let me have fifteen rubles and I'll buy one at the horsemarket," said Nikita, who knew that the

horse Vasili Andreevich wanted to sell him would be dear at seven rubles, but that if he took it from him it

would be charged at twentyfive, and then he would be unable to draw any money for half a year.

"It's a good horse. I think of your interest as of my own according to conscience. Brekhunov isn't a man to

wrong anyone. Let the loss be mine. I'm not like others. Honestly!" he shouted in the voice in which he

"Quite so!" said Nikita with a sigh, and convinced that there was nothing more to listen to, he again released

They drove on in silence for about half an hour. The wind blew sharply onto Nikita's side and arm where his

He huddled up and breathed into the collar which covered his mouth, and was not wholly cold.

"What do you think shall we go through Karamyshevo or by the straight road?" asked Vasili Andreevich.

The road through Karamyshevo was more frequented and was well marked with a double row of high stakes.

The straight road was nearer but little used and had no stakes, or only poor ones covered with snow.

"But by the straight road, when once we get through the hollow by the forest, it's good going sheltered,"

Vasili Andreevich did as he had said, and having gone about half a verst came to a tall oak stake which had a

On turning they faced directly against the wind, and snow was beginning to fall. Vasili Andreevich, who was

driving, inflated his cheeks, blowing the breath out through his moustache. Nikita dosed.

So they went on in silence for about ten minutes. Suddenly Vasili Andreevich began saying something.

Vasili Andreevich did not answer, but bent over, looking behind them and then ahead of the horse. The sweat

"What is it? What is it?" Vasili Andreevich mimicked him angrily. "There are no stakes to be seen! We must

Well, pull up then, and I'll look for it," said Nikita, and jumping down lightly from the sledge and taking the

whip from under the straw, he went off to the left from his own side of the sledge.

The snow was not deep that year, so that it was possible to walk anywhere, but still in places it was

kneedeep and got into Nikita's boots. He went about feeling the ground with his feet and the whip, but could

"There is no road this side. I must go to the other side and try there," said Nikita.

Nikita went to what had appeared dark, but found that it was earth which the wind had blown from the bare

fields of winter oats and had strewn over the snow, colouring it. Having searched to the right also, he returned

to the sledge, brushed the snow from his coat, shook it out of his boots, and seated himself once more.

"We must go to the right," he said decidedly. "The wind was blowing on our left before, but now it is straight

Vasili Andreevich took his advice and turned to the right, but still there was no road. They went on in that

direction for some time. The wind was as fierce as ever and it was snowing lightly.

"It seems, Vasili Andreevich, that we have gone quite astray," Nikita suddenly remarked, as if it were a

pleasant thing. "what is that?" he added, pointing to some potato vines that showed up under the snow.

Vasili Andreevich stopped the perspiring horse, whose deep sides were heaving heavily.

"It's not nonsense, Vasili Andreevich. It's the truth," replied Nikita. "You can feel that the sledge is going

over a potatofield, and there are the heaps of vines which have been carted here. It's the Zakharov factory

"Dear me, how we have gone astray!" said Vasili Andreevich. "What are we to do now?"

"We must go straight on, that's all. We shall come out somewhere if not at Zakharova, then at the

Vasili Andreevich agreed, and drove as Nikita had indicated. So they went on for a considerable time. At

times they came onto bare fields and the sledgerunners rattled over frozen lumps of earth. Sometimes they

got onto a winterrye field, or a fallow field on which they could see stalks of wormwood, and straws

sticking up through the snow and swaying in the wind; sometimes they came onto deep and even white snow,

The snow was falling from above and sometimes rose from below. The horse was evidently exhausted, his

hair had all curled up from sweat and was covered with hoarfrost, and he went at a walk. Suddenly he

stumbled and sat down in a ditch or watercourse. Vasili Andreevich wanted to stop, but Nikita cried to him:

"Why stop? We've got in and must get out. Hey, pet! Hey, darling! Gee up, old fellow!" he shouted in a

cheerful tone to the horse, jumping out of the sledge and himself getting stuck in the ditch.

The horse gave a start and quickly climbed out onto the frozen bank. It was evidently a ditch that had been

"Why, this must be the Goryachkin forest!" said Vasili Andreevich, pointing to something dark that appeared

He saw that beside the black thing they had noticed, dry, oblong willowleaves were fluttering, and so he

knew it was not a forest but a settlement, but he did not wish to say so. And in fact they had not gone

twentyfive yards beyond the ditch before something in front of them, evidently trees, showed up black, and

they heard a new and melancholy sound. Nikita had guessed right: it was not a wood, but a row of tall

willows with a few leaves still fluttering on them hear and there. They had evidently been planted along the

ditch round a threshingfloor. Coming up to the willows, which moaned sadly in the wind, the horse

suddenly planted his forelegs above the height of the sledge, drew up his hind legs also, pulling the sledge

onto higher ground, and turned to the left, no longer sinking up to his knees in snow. They were back on a

The horse kept straight along the road through the drifted snow, and before they had gone another hundred

yards the straight line of the dark wattle wall of a barn showed up black before them, its roof heavily covered

with snow which poured down from it. after passing the barn the road turned to the wind and they drove into

a snowdrift. But ahead of them was a lane with houses on either side, so evidently the snow had been blown

across the road and they had to drive through the drift. And so in fact it was. Having driven through the snow

they came out into a street. At the end house of the village some frozen clothes hanging on a line shirts,

one red and one white, trousers, leg bands, and a petticoat fluttered wildly in the wind. The white shirt in

"There now, either a lazy woman or a dead one has not taken her clothes down before the holiday," remarked

At the entrance to the street the wind still raged and the road was thickly covered with snow, but well within

the village it was calm, warm, and cheerful. At one house a dog was barking, at another a woman, covering

her head with her coat, came running from somewhere and entered the door of a hut, stopping on the

threshold to have a look at the passing sledge. In the middle of the village girls could be heard singing.

Here in the village there seemed to be less wind and snow, and the frost was less keen.

It really was Grishkino, which meant that they had gone too far to the left and had traveled some six miles,

not quite in the direction they aimed at, but towards their destination for all that.

In the middle of the village they almost ran into a tall man walking down the middle of the street.

"Who are you?" shouted the man, stopping the horse, and recognizing Vasili Andreevich he immediately took

hold of the shaft, went along it hand over hand till he reached the sledge, and placed himself on the driver's

He was Isay, a peasant of Vasili Andreevich's acquaintance, and well known as the principal horsethief in

"Ah, Vasili Andreevich! Where are you off to?" said Isay, enveloping Nikita in the odour of the vodka he had

"Should have, but didn't manage it," said Vasili Andreevich, holding in the horse.

"That's a good horse," said Isay, with a shrewd glance at Mukhorty, and with a practised hand he tightened

"Who else?" replied Nikita. "But I say, good friend, how are we to avoid going astray again?"

"Where can you go astray here? Turn back straight down the street and then when you come out keep straight

on. Don't take to the left. You will come out onto the high road, and then turn to the right."

"And where do we turn off the high road? As in summer, or the winter way?" asked Nikita.

"The winter way. As soon as you turn off you'll see some bushes, and opposite them there is a waymark

Vasili Andreevich turned the horse back and drove through the outskirts of the village.

But Vasili Andreevich did not answer and touched up the horse. Four miles of good road, two of which lay

through the forest, seemed easy to manage, especially as the wind was apparently quieter and the snow had

Having driven along the trodden village street, darkened here and there by fresh manure, past the yard where

the clothes hung out and where the white shirt had broken loose and was now attached only by one frozen

sleeve, they again came within sound of the weird moan of the willows, and again emerged on the open

fields. The storm, far from ceasing, seemed to have grown yet stronger. The road was completely covered

with drifting snow, and only the stakes showed that they had not lost their way. But even the stakes ahead of

Vasili Andreevich screwed up his eyes, bent down his head, and looked out for the way marks, but trusted

mainly to the horse's sagacity, letting it take its own way. And the horse really did not lose the road but

followed its windings, turning how to the right and now to the left and sensing it under his feet, so that

though the snow fell thicker and the wind strengthened they still continued to see waymarks now to the left

So they traveled on for about ten minutes, when suddenly, through the slanting screen of winddriven snow,

This was another sledge with fellowtravelers. Mukhorty over took them, and struck his hooves against the

Vasili Andreevich swerved aside to pass the other sledge. In it sat three men and a woman, evidently visitors

returning from a feast. One peasant was whacking the snowcovered croup of their little horse with a long

switch, and the other two sitting in front waved their arms and shouted something. The woman, completely

"From Aaa ...!" one of the peasants shouted with all his might, but still it was impossible to make out who

"Get along! Keep up!" shouted another, ceaselessly beating his horse with the switch.

The wings of the sledges bumped against one another, almost got jammed but managed to separate, and the

Their shaggy, bigbellied horse, all covered with snow, breathed heavily under the low shaft bow and,

evidently using the last of its strength, vainly endeavoured to escape from the switch, hobbling with its short

Its muzzle, younglooking, with the nether lip drawn up like that of a fish, nostrils distended and ears pressed

back from fear, kept up for a few seconds near Nikita's shoulder and then began to fall behind.

"Just see what liquor does!" said Nikita. "They've tired that little horse to death. What pagans!"

For a few minutes they heard the panting of the tired little horse and the drunken shouting of the peasants.

Then the panting and the shouts died away, and around them nothing could be heard but the whistling of the

wind in their ears and now and then the squeak of their sledgerunners over a windswept part of the road.

This encounter cheered and enlivened Vasili Andreevich, and he drove on more boldly without examining the

Nikita had nothing to do, and as usual in such circumstances he drowsed, making up for much sleepless time.

"Well, if we've lost the road we must find it," said Nikita curtly, and getting out and stepping lightly on his

He walked about for a long time, now disappearing and now reappearing, and finally he came back.

"There is no road here. There may be farther on," he said, getting into the sledge.

It was already growing dark. The snowstorm had not increased but had also not subsided.

"Well they haven't caught us up. We must have gone far astray. Or maybe they have lost their way too."

"Why, we must let the horse take its own way," said Nikita. "He will take us right. Let me have the reins."

Vasili Andreevich gave him the reins, the more willingly because his hands were beginning to feel frozen in

Nikita took the reins, but only held them, trying not to shake them and rejoicing at his favourite's sagacity.

And indeed the clever horse, turning first one ear and then the other now to one side and then to the other,

"The one thing he can't do is to talk," Nikita kept saying. "See what he is doing! Go on, go on! You know

"Yes, he's clever," Nikita continued, admiring the horse. "A Kirgiz horse is strong but stupid. But this one

just see what he's doing with his ears! He doesn't need any telegraph. He can scent a mile off."

Before another halfhour had passed they saw something dark ahead of them a wood or a village and

And indeed, there on their left was that same barn with the snow flying from it, and farther on the same line

with the frozen washing, shirts and trousers, which still fluttered desperately in the wind.

Again they drove into the street and again it grew quiet, warm, and cheerful, and again they could see the

manurestained street and hear voices and songs and the barking of a dog. It was already so dark that there

Halfway through the village Vasili Andreevich turned the horse towards a large double fronted brick house

Nikita went to the lighted snowcovered window, in the rays of which flying snowflakes glittered, and

"From Kresty, the Brekhunovs, dear fellow," answered Nikita. "Just come out for a minute."

someone moved from the window, and a minute or two later there was the sound of the passage door as it

came unstuck, then the latch of the outside door clicked and a tall whitebearded peasant, with a sheepskin

coat thrown over his white holiday shirt, pushed his way out holding the door firmly against the wind,

"Yes, friend, we've gone astray," said Vasili Andreevich. "We wanted to get to Goryachkin but found

"Just see how you have gone astray!" said the old man. "Petrushka, go and open the gate!" he added, turning

"Warm myself? Yes, I'll do that," said Vasili Andreevich. "It won't get darker. The moon will rise and it will

"Well, why not? Let us warm ourselves," replied Nikita, who was stiff with cold and anxious to warm his

Vasili Andreevich went into the room with the old man, and Nikita drove through the gate opened for him by

Petrushka, by whose advice he backed the horse under the penthouse. the ground was covered with manure

and the tall bow over the horse's head caught against the beam. The hens and the cock had already settled to

roost there, and clucked peevishly, clinging to the beam with their claws. the disturbed sheep shied and

rushed aside trampling the frozen manure with their hooves. The dog yelped desperately with fright and anger

Nikita talked to them all, excused himself to the fowls and assured them that he would not disturb them

again, rebuked the sheep for being frightened without knowing why, and kept soothing the dog, while he tied

"Now that will be all right," he said, knocking the snow off his clothes. "Just hear how he barks!" he added,

turning to the dog. "Be quiet, stupid! Be quiet. You are only troubling yourself for nothing. we're not thieves,

"and these are, it's said, the three domestic counsellors," remarked the lad, and with his strong arms he pushed

"That's what is printed in Paulson. A thief creeps to a house the dog barks, that means, 'Be on your guard!'

The cock crows, that means, 'Get up!' The cat licks herself that means, "A welcome guest is coming. Get

Petrushka could read and write and knew Paulson's primer, his only book, almost by heart, and he was fond

of quoting sayings from it that he thought suited the occasion, especially when he had had something to

"Yes, I am rather," said Nikita, and they went across the yard and the passage into the house.

The household to which Vasili Andreevich had come was one of the richest in the village. the family had five

allotments, besides renting other land. They had six horses, three cows, two calves, and some twenty sheep.

There were twentytwo members belonging to the homestead: four married sons, six grandchildren (one of

whom, Petrushka, was married), two greatgrandchildren, three orphans, and four daughtersinlaw with

their babies. It was one of the few homesteads that remained still undivided, but even here the dull internal

work of disintegration which would inevitably lead to separation had already begun, starting as usual among

the women. Two sons were living in Moscow as watercarriers, and one was in the army. At home now were

the old man and his wife, their second son who managed the homestead, the eldest who had come from

Moscow for the holiday, and all the women and children. Besides these members of the family there was a

Over the table in the room hung a lamp with a shade, which brightly lit up the teathings, a bottle of vodka,

and some refreshments, besides illuminating the brick walls, which in the far corner were hung with icons on

both sides of which were pictures. At the head of the table sat Vasili Andreevich in a black sheepskin coat,

sucking his frozen moustache and observing the room and the people around him with his prominent

hawklike eyes. With him sat the old, bald, whitebearded master of the house in a white homespun shirt,

and next to him the son home from Moscow for the holiday a man with a sturdy back and powerful

shoulders and clad in a thin print shirt then the second son, also broadshouldered, who acted as head of

Having had a drink of vodka and something to eat, they were about to take tea, and the samovar standing on

the floor beside the brick oven was already humming. the children could be seen in the top bunks and on the

top of the oven. A woman sat on a lower bunk with a cradle beside her. The old housewife, her face covered

As Nikita entered the house she was offering her guest a small tumbler of thick glass which she had just filled

"Don't refuse Vasili Andreevich, you mustn't! Wish us a merry feast. Drink it, dear!" she said.

the sight and smell of vodka, especially now when he was chilled through and tired out, much disturbed

Nikita's mind. He frowned, and having shaken the snow off his cap and coat, stopped in front of the icons as

if not seeing anyone, crossed himself three times, and bowed to the icons. Then, turning to the old master of

the house and bowing first to him, then to all those at table, then to the women who stood by the oven, and

muttering: "A merry holiday!" he beg taking off his outer things without looking at the table.

"Why, you're all covered with hoarfrost, old fellow!" said the eldest brother, looking at Nikita's

Nikita took off his coat, shook it again, hung it up beside the oven, and came up to the table. He too was

offered vodka. He went through a moment of painful hesitation and nearly took up the glass and emptied the

clear fragrant liquid down his throat, but he glanced at Vasili Andreevich, remembered his oath and the boots

that he had sold for drink, recalled the cooper, remembered his son for whom he had promised to buy a horse

"I don't drink, thank you kindly," he said frowning, and sat down on a bench near the second window.

"I just don't drink," replied Nikita without lifting his eyes but looking askance at his scanty beard and

"It's not good for him," said Vasili Andreevich, munching a cracknel after emptying his glass.

"Well, then, have some tea," said the kindly old hostess. "You must be chilled through, good soul. why are

"It is ready," said one of the young women, and after flicking with her apron the top of the samovar which

was now boiling over, she carried it with an effort to the table, raised it, and set it down with a thud.

Meanwhile Vasili Andreevich was telling how he had lost his way, how they had come back twice to this

same village, and how they had gone astray and had met some drunken peasants. Their hosts were surprised,

explained where and why they had missed their way, said who the tipsy people they had met were, and told

"A little child could find the way to Molchanovka from here. All you have to do is to take the right turning

from the high road. There's a bush you can see just there. but you didn't even get that far!" said the neighbour.

"You's better stay the night. The women will make up beds for you," said the old woman persuasively.

"You could go on in the morning and it would be pleasnter," said the old man, confirming what his wife has

"I can't, friend. Business!" said Vasili Andreevich. "Lose an hour and you can't catch it up in a year," he

added, remembering the grove and the dealers who might snatch that deal from him. "We shall get there,

Nikita did not answer for some time, apparently still intent on thawing out his beard and moustache.

He was gloomy because he passionately longed for some vodka, and the only thing that could assuage that

"But we have only to reach the turning and then we shan't go wrong. The road will be through the forest the

"It's just as you please, Vasili Andreevich. If we're to go, let us go," said Nikita, taking the glass of tea he was

Nikita said nothing but only shook his head, and carefully pouring some tea into his saucer began warming

his hands, the fingers of which were always swollen with hard work, over the steam. Then, biting off a tiny

bit of sugar, he bowed to his hosts, said, "Your health!" and drew in the steaming liquid.

"Well, we can do that," said the eldest son. "Petrushka will harness and go that far with you."

"Oh, what for, dear man?" said the kindly old woman. "We are heartily glad to do it."

"All right," replied Petruskha with a smile, and promptly snatching his cap down from a nail he ran away to

While the horse was being harnessed the talk returned to the point at which it had stopped when Vasili

Andreevich drove up to the window. The old man had been complaining to his neighbour, the village elder,

about his third son who had not sent him anything for the holiday though he had sent a French shawl to his

"And how they do!" said the neighbour. "There's no managing them! They know too much. There's

Demochkin now, who broke his father's arm. It's all from being too clever, it seems."

Nikita listened, watched their faces, and evidently would have liked to share in the conversation, but he was

too busy drinking his tea and only nodded his head approvingly. He emptied one tumbler after another and

grew warmer and warmer and more and more comfortable. The talk continued on the same subject for a long

time the harmfulness of a household dividing up and it was clearly not an abstract discussion but

concerned the question of a separation in that house; a separation demanded by the second son who sat there

It was evidently a sore subject and absorbed them all, but out of propriety they did not discuss their private

affairs before strangers. At last, however, the old man could not restrain himself, and with tears in his eyes

declared that he would not consent to a breakup of the family during his lifetime, that his house was

prospering, thank God, but that if they separated they would all have to go begging.

"Just like the Matveevs," said the neighbour. "They used to have a proper house, but now they've split up

"and that is what you want to happen to us," said the old man, turning to his son.

the son made no reply and there was an awkward pause. The silence was broken by Petrushka, who having

harnessed the horse had returned to the hut a few minutes before this and had been listening all the time with

"There's a fable about that in Paulson," he said. "A father gave his sons a broom to break. At first they could

not break it, but when they took it twig by twig they broke it easily. And it's the same here," and he gave a

"If you're ready, let's go," said Vasili Andreevich. And as to separating, don't you allow it, Grandfather.

You've got everything together and you're the master. Go to the Justice of the Peace. He'll say how things

"He carries on so, carries on so," the old man continued in a whining tone. "There's no doing anything with

Nikita having meanwhile finished his fifth tumbler of tea laid it on its side instead of turning it upside down,

hoping to be offered a sixth glass. But there was no more water in the samovar, so the hostess did not fill it up

for him. Besides, Vasili Andreevich was putting his things on, so there was nothing for it but for Nikita to get

up too, put back into the sugarbasin the lump of sugar he had nibbled all round, wipe his perspiring face

Having put it on he sighed deeply, thanked his hosts, said goodbye, and went out of the warm bright room

into the cold dark passage, through which the wind was howling and where snow was blowing through the

Petrushka stood in his sheepskin in the middle of the yard by his horse, repeating some lines from Paulson's

The old man, seeing Vasili Andreevich off, brought a lantern into the passage to show him a light, but it was

blown out at once. And even in the yard it was evident that the snowstorm had become more violent.

"Well, this is weather!" thought Vasili Andreevich. "Perhaps we may not get there after all. But there is

nothing to be done. Business! Besides, we have got ready, our host's horse has been harnessed, and we'll get

Their aged host also thought they ought not to go, but he had already tried to persuade them to stay and had

"It's no use asking them again. Maybe my age makes me timid. They'll get there all right, and at least we shall

Petrushka did not think of danger. He knew the road and the whole district so well, and the lines about

"snowy circles wheeling wild" described what was happening outside so aptly that it cheered him up. Nikita

did not wish to go at all, but he had been accustomed not to have his own way and to serve others for so long

Vasili Andreevich went over to his sledge, found it with difficulty in the darkness, climbed in and took the

Petruskha kneeling in his low sledge started his horse. Mukhorty, who had been neighing for some time past,

now scenting a mare ahead of him started after her, and they drove out into the street. They drove again

through the outskirts of the village and along the same road, past the yard where the frozen linen had hung

(which, however, was no longer to be seen), past the same barn, which was now snowed up almost to the roof

and from which the snow was still endlessly pouring, past the same dismally moaning, whistling, and

swaying willows, and again entered into the sea of blustering snow raging from above and below. The wind

was so strong that when it blew from the side and the travelers steered against it, it tilted the sledges and

turned the horses to one side. Petrushka drove his good mare in front at a brisk trot and kept shouting lustily.

After traveling so for about ten minutes, Petrushka turned round and shouted something. Neither Vasili

Andreevich nor Nikita could hear anything because of the wind, but they guessed that they had arrived at the

turning. In fact Petrushka had turned to the right, and now the wind that had blown from the side blew

straight into their faces, and through the snow they saw something dark on their right. It was the bush at the

Nikita wrapping his coat closely about him and pressing his head down so close to his shoulders that his short

beard covered his throat, sat silently, trying not to lose the warmth he had obtained while drinking tea in the

house. Before him he saw the straight lines of the shafts which constantly deceived him into thinking they

were on a well traveled road, and the horse's swaying crupper with his knotted tail blown to one side, and

farther ahead the high shaftbow and the swaying head and neck of the horse with its waving mane. Now and

then he caught sight of a waysign, so that he knew they were still on a road and that there was nothing for

Vasili Andreevich drove on, leaving it to the horse to keep to the road. Mut Mukhorty, though he had had a

breathingspace in the village, ran reluctantly, and seemed now and then to get off the road, so that Vasili

"Here's a stake to the right, and another, and here's a third," Vasili Andreevich counted, "and here in front is

the forest," thought he, as he looked at something dark in front of him. But what had seemed to him a forest

was only a bush. The passed the bush and drove on for another hundred yards but there was no fourth

"We must reach the forest soon," thought Vasili Andreevich, and animated by the vodka and the tea he did

not stop but shook the reins, and the good obedient horse responded, now ambling, now slowly trotting in the

direction in which he was sent, though he knew that he was not going the right way. Ten minutes went by,

Nikita silently got out of the sledge and holding his coat, which the wind now wrapped closely about him and

now almost tore off, started to feel about in the snow, going first to one side and then to the other. Three or

four times he was completely lost to sight. At last he returned and took the reins from Vasili Andreevich's

"We must go to the right," he said sternly and peremptorily, as he turned the horse.

"Well, if it's to the right, go to the right," said Vasili Andreevich, yielding up the reins to Nikita and thrusting

"Now then, friend, stir yourself!" he shouted to the horse, but in spite of the shake of the reins Mukhorty

The snow in places was up to his knees, and the sledge moved by fits and starts with his every movement.

Nikita took the whip that hung over the front of the sledge and struck him once. The good horse, unused to

the ship, sprang forward and moved at a trot, but immediately fell back into an amble and then to a walk. So

they went on for five minutes. It was dark and the snow whirled from above and rose from below, so that

sometimes the shaftbow could not be seen. At times the sledge seemed to stand still and the field to run

backwards. Suddenly the horse stopped abruptly, evidently aware of something close in front of him. Nikita

again sprang lightly out, throwing down the reins, and went ahead to see what had brought him to a standstill,

but hardly had he made a step in front of the horse before his feet slipped and he went rolling down an

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" he said to himself as he fell, and he tried to stop his fall but could not, and only

stopped when his feet plunged into a thick layer of snow that had drifted to the bottom of the hollow.

The fringe of a drift of snow that hung on the edge of the hollow, disturbed by Nikita's fall, showered down

"What a thing to do!" said Nikita reproachfully, addressing the drift and the hollow and shaking the snow

But Nikita did not reply. He was too occupied in shaking out the snow and searching for the whip he had

dropped when rolling down the incline. Having found the whip he tried to climb straight up the bank where

he had rolled down, but it was impossible to do so: he kept rolling down again, and so he had to go along at

the foot of the hollow to find a way up. About seven yards farther on he managed with difficulty to crawl up

the incline on all fours, then he followed the edge of the hollow back to the place where the horse should

have been. He could not see either horse or sledge, but as he walked against the wind he heard Vasili

Only when he had come up to the sledge could he make out the horse, and Vasili Andreevich standing beside

"Where the devil did you vanish to? We must go back, if only to Grishkino," he began reproaching Nikita.

"Id be glad to get back, Vasili Andreevich, but which way are we to go? there is such a ravine here that if we

once get in it we shan't get out again. I got stuck so fast there myself that I could hardly get out."

"What shall we do, then? We can't stay here! We must go somewhere!" said Vasili Andreevich.

Nikita said nothing. He seated himself in the sledge with his back to the wind, took off his boots, shook out

the snow that had got into them, and taking some straw from the bottom of the sledge, carefully plugged with

Vasili Andreevich remained silent, as though now leaving everything to Nikita. Having put his boots on

again, Nikita drew his feet into the sledge, put on his mittens and took up the reins, and directed the horse

along the side of the ravine. But they had not gone a hundred yards before the horse again stopped short. The

Nikita again climbed out and again trudged about in the snow. He did this for a considerable time and at last

"I can't make anything out. It's too dark. There's nothing but ravines. We must drive against the wind again."

they set off once more. Again Nikita went stumbling through the snow, again he fell in, again climbed out

and trudged about, and at last quite out of breath he sat down beside the sledge.

Vasili Andreevich no longer gave orders but implicitly did what Nikita told him.

"Here, follow me!" Nikita shouted, stepping quickly to the right, and seizing the rein he led Mukhorty down

At first the horse held back, then he jerked forward, hoping to leap the drift, but he had not the strength and

"Get out!" Nikita called to Vasili Andreevich who still sat in the sledge, and taking hold of one shaft he

moved the sledge closer to the horse. "It's hard, brother!" he said to Mukhorty, "but it can't be helped. Make

The horse gave a tug, then another, but failed to clear himself and settled down again as if considering

Again Nikita tugged at the shaft on his side, and Vasili Andreevich did the same on the other.

One plunge, another, and a third, and at last Mukhorty was out of the snowdrift, and stood still, breathing

heavily and shaking the snow off himself. Nikita wished to lead him farther, but Vasili Andreevich, in his

two fur coats, was so out of breath that he could not walk farther and dropped into the sledge.

"Let me get my breath!" he said, unfastening the kerchief with which he had tied the collar of his fur coat at

"It's all right here. You lie there," said Nikita. "I will lead him along." And with Vasili Andreevich in the

sledge he led the horse by the bridle about ten paces down and then up a slight rise, and stopped.

The place where Nikita had stopped was not completely in the hollow where the snow sweeping down from

the hillocks might have buried them altogether, but still it was partly sheltered from the wind by the side of

the ravine. There were moments when the wind seemed to abate a little, but that did not last long and as if to

make up for that respite the storm swept down with tenfold vigour and tore and whirled the more fiercely.

Such a gust struck them at the moment when Vasili Andreevich, having recovered his breath, got out of the

sledge and went up to Nikita to consult him as to what they should do. They both bent down involuntarily

and waited till the violence of the squall should have passed. Mukhorty too laid back his ears and shook his

head discontentedly. as soon as the violence of the blast had abated a little, Nikita took off his mittens, stuck

them into his belt, breathed onto his hands, and began to undo the straps of the shaftbow.

"Unharnessing. What else is there to do? I have no strength left," said Nikita as though excusing himself.

"No we can't. We shall only kill the horse. Why, the poor beast is not himself now," said Nikita, pointing to

the horse, which was standing submissively waiting for what might come, with his steep wet sides heaving

heavily. "We shall have to stay the night here," he said, as if preparing to spend the night at an inn, and he

Although Vasili Andreevich felt quite warm in his two fur coats, especially after struggling in the snowdrift,

a cold shiver ran down his back on realizing that he must really spend the night where they were. To calm

Nikita meanwhile unharnessed Mukhorty. He unstrapped the bellyband and the backband, took away the

reins, loosened the collarstrap, and removed the shaftbow, talking to him all the time to encourage him.

"Now come out! come out!" he said, leading him clear of the shafts. "Now we'll tie you up here and I'll put

down some straw and take off your bridle. When you've had a bite you'll feel more cheerful."

But Mukhorty was restless and evidently not comforted by Nikita's remarks. He stepped now on one foot and

now on another, and pressed close against the sledge, turning his back to the wind and rubbing his head on

Nikita's sleeve. Then, as if not to pain Nikita by refusing his offer of the straw he put before him, he hurriedly

snatched a wisp out of the sledge, but immediately decided that it was now no time to think of straw and

threw it down, and the wind instantly scattered it, carried it away and covered it with snow.

"Now we will set up a signal," said Nikita, and turning the front of the sledge to the wind he tied the shafts

together with a strap and set them up on end in front of the sledge. "There now, when the snow covers us up,

good folk will see the shafts and dig us out," he said slapping his mittens together and putting them on.

Vasili Andreevich meanwhile had unfastened his coat, and holding its skirts up for shelter, struck one sulphur

match after another on the steel box. But his hands trembled, and one match after another either did not

kindle or was blown out by the wind just as he was lifting it to the cigarette. At last a match did burn up, and

its flame lit up for a moment the fur of his coat, his hand with the gold ring on the bent forefinger, and the

snowsprinkled oatstrap that stuck out from under the drugget. The cigarette lighted, he eagerly took a

whiff or two, inhaled the smoke, let it out through his moustache, and would have inhaled again, but the wind

"If we must spend the night here, we must!" he said with decision. "Wait a bit, I'll arrange a flag as well," he

added, picking up the kerchief which he had thrown down in the sledge after taking it from round his collar,

and drawing off his gloves and standing up on the front of the sledge and stretching himself to reach the strap,

The kerchief immediately began to flutter wildly, now clinging round the shaft, now suddenly streaming out,

"Just see what a fine flat!" said Vasili Andreevich, admiring his handiwork and letting himself down into the

sledge. "We should be warmer together, but there's not enough room for two," he added.

"I'll find a place," said Nikita. "But I must cover up the horse first he sweated so, poor thing. Let go!" he

Having got the drugged he folded it in two, and after taking off the breechband and pad, covered Mukhorty

"Anyhow it will be warmer, silly!" he said, putting back the breechband and the pad on the horse over the

drugget. Then having finished that business he returned to the sledge, and addressing Vasili Andreevich, said:

And having taken these things from under Vasili Andreevich, Nikita went behind the sledge, dug out a hole

for himself in the snow, put straw into it, wrapped his coat well round him, covered himself with the

sackcloth, and pulling his cap well down seated himself on the straw he had spread, and leant against the

Vasili Andreevich shook his head disapprovingly at what Nikita was doing, as in general he disapproved of

the peasant's stupidity and lack of education, and he began to settle himself down for the night.

He smoothed the remaining straw over the bottom of the sledge, putting more if it under his side. Then he

thrust his hands into his sleeves and settled down, sheltering his head in the corner of the sledge from the

He did not wish to sleep. He lay and thought: thought ever of the one thing that constituted the sole aim,

meaning, pleasure, and pride of his life of how much money he had made and might still make, of how

much other people he knew had made and possessed, and of how those others had made and were making it,

and how he, like them, might still make much more. The purchase of the Goryachkin grove was a matter of

immense importance to him. By that one deal he hoped to make perhaps ten thousand rubles. He began

mentally to reckon the value of the wood he had inspected in autumn, and on five acres of which he had

"The oaks will go for sledgerunners. The undergrowth will take care of itself, and there'll still be some thirty

sazheens of firewood left on each desyatin," said he to himself. "That means there will be at least two

hundred and twentyfive rubles' worth left on each desyatin. Fiftysix desyatins means fiftysix hundred,

and fiftysix hundreds, and fiftysix tens, and another fiftysix tens, and then fiftysix fives...." He saw that

it came out to more than twelve thousand rubles, but could not reckon it up exactly without a

countingframe. "But I won't give ten thousand, anyhow. I'll give about eight thousand with a deduction on

account of the glades. I'll grease the surveyor's palm give him a hundred rubles, or a hundred and fifty, and

he'll reckon that there are some five desyatins of glade to be deducted. And he'll let it go for eight thousand.

Three thousand cash down. That'll move him, no fear!" he thought, and he pressed his pocketbook with his

"God only knows how we missed the turning. The forest ought to be there, and a watchman's hut, and dogs

barking. But the damned things don't bark when they're wanted." He turned his collar down from his ear and

listened, but as before only the whistling of the wind could be heard, the flapping and fluttering of the

kerchief tied to the shafts, and the pelting of the snow against the woodwork of the sledge. He again covered

"If I had known I would have stayed the night. Well, no matter, we'll get there tomorrow. It's only one day

lost. And the others won't travel in such weather." Then he remembered that on the 9th he had to receive

payment from but butcher for his oxen. "He meant to come himself, but he won't find me, and my wife won't

know how to receive the money. She doesn't know the right way of doing things," he thought, recalling how

at their party the day before she had not known how to treat the policeofficer who was their guest. "Of

course she's only a woman! Where could she have seen anything? In my father's time what was our house

like? Just a rich peasant's house: just an oatmill and an inn that was the whole property. But what have I

done in these fifteen years? A shop, two taverns, a flourmill, a grainstore, two farms leased out, and a

house with an ironroofed barn," he thought proudly. "Not as it was in Father's time! Who is talked of in the

whole district now? Brekhunov! And why? Because I stick to business. I take trouble, not like others who lie

abed or waste their time on foolishness while I don't sleep of nights. Blizzard or no blizzard I start out. So

business gets done. They think moneymaking is a joke. No, take pains and rack your brains! You get

overtaken out of doors at night, like this, or keep awake night after night till the thoughts whirling in your

head make the pillow turn," he meditated with pride. "They think people get on through luck. After all, the

Moronovs are now millionaires. And why? Take pains and God gives. If only He grants me health!"

The thought that he might himself be a millionaire like Mironov, who began with nothing, so excited Vasili

Andreevich that he felt the need of talking to somebody. But there was no one to talk to.... If only he could

have reached Goryachkin he would have talked to the landlord and shown him a thing or two.

"Just see how it blows! It will snow us up so deep that we shan't be able to get out in the morning!" he

thought, listening to a gust of wind that blew against the front of the sledge, bending it and lashing the snow

against it. He raised himself and looked round. All he could see through the whirling darkness of Mukhorty's

dark head, his back covered by the fluttering drugget, and his thick knotted tail; while all round, in front and

behind, was the same fluctuating white darkness, sometimes seeming to get a little lighter and sometimes

"A pity I listened to Nikita," he thought. "We ought to have driven on. We should have come out somewhere,

if only back to Grishkino and stayed the night at Taras's. As it is we must sit here all night. But what was I

thinking about? Yes, that God gives to those who take trouble, but not to loafers, lieabeds, or fools. I must

He sat down again, got out his cigarettecase, and stretched himself flat on his stomach, screening the

matches with the skirt of his coat. But the wind found its way in and put out match after match. At last he got

one to burn and lit a cigarette. He was very glad that he had managed to do what he wanted, and though the

wind smoked more of the cigarette than he did, he still got two or three puffs and felt more cheerful. He again

leant back, wrapped himself up, started reflecting and remembering, and suddenly and quite unexpectedly

Suddenly something seemed to give him a push and awoke him. Whether it was Mukhorty who had pulled

some straw from under him, or whether something within him had startled him, at all events it woke him, and

his heart began to beat faster and faster so that the sledge seemed to tremble under him. He opened his eyes.

Everything around him was just as before. "It looks lighter," he thought. "I expect it won't be long before

dawn." But he at once remembered that it was lighter because the moon had risen. He sat up and looked first

at the horse. Mukhorty still stood with his back to the wind, shivering all over. One side of the drugget, which

was completely covered with snow, had been blown back, the breeching had slipped down and the

snowcovered head with its waving forelock and mane were now more visible. Vasili Andreevich leant over

the back of the sledge and looked behind. Nikita still sat in the same position in which he had settled himself.

The sacking with which he was covered, and his legs, were thickly covered with snow.

"If only that peasant doesn't freeze to death! His clothes are so wretched. I may be held responsible for him.

What shiftless people they are such a want of education," thought Vasili Andreevich, and he felt like taking

the drugget off the horse and putting it over Nikita, but it would be very cold to get out and move about and,

moreover, the horse might freeze to death. "Why did I bring him with me? It was all her stupidity!" he

thought, recalling his unloved wife, and he rolled over into his old place at the front part of the sledge. "My

uncle once spent a whole night like this," he reflected, and was all right." But another case came at once to

his mind. "But when they dug Sebastian out he was dead stiff like a frozen carcass. If I'd only stopped the

And wrapping his coat carefully round him so that none of the warmth of the fur should be wasted but should

warm him all over, neck, knees, and feet, he shut his eyes and tried to sleep again. But try as he would he

could not get drowsy, on the contrary he felt wide awake and animated. Again he began counting his gains

and the debts due to him, again he began bragging to himself and feeling pleased with himself and his

position, but all this was continually disturbed by a stealthily approaching fear and by the unpleasant regret

"How different it would be to be lying warm on a bench!" He turned over several times in his attempts to get

into a more comfortable position more sheltered from the wind, he wrapped up his legs closer, shut his eyes,

and lay still. But either his legs in their strong felt boots began to ache from being bent in one position, or the

wind blew in somewhere, and after lying still for a short time he again began to recall the disturbing fact that

he might now have been lying quietly in the warm hut at Grishkino. He again sat up, turned about, muffled

Once he fancied that he heard a distant cockcrow. He felt glad, turned down his coatcollar and listened

with strained attention, but in spite of all his efforts nothing could be heard but the wind whistling between

the shafts, the flapping of the kerchief, and the snow pelting against the frame of the sledge.

Nikita sat just as he had done all the time, not moving and not even answering Vasili Andreevich who had

addressed him a couple of times. "He doesn't care a bit he's probably asleep!: thought Vasili Andreevich

with vexation, looking behind the sledge at Nikita who was covered with a thick layer of snow.

Vasili Andreevich got up and lay down again some twenty times. It seemed to him that the night would never

end. "It must be getting near morning," he thought, getting up and looking around. "Let's have a look at my

watch. It will be cold to unbutton, but if I only know that it's getting near morning I shall at any rate feel more

In the depth of his heart Vasili Andreevich knew that it could not yet be near morning, but he was growing

more and more afraid, and wished both to get to know and yet to deceive himself. He carefully undid the

fastening of his sheepskin, pushed in his hand, and felt about for a long time before he got to his waistcoat.

With great difficulty he managed to draw out his silver watch with its enameled flower design, and tried to

make out the time. He could not see anything without a light. Again he went down on his knees and elbows

as he had done when he lighted a cigarette, got out his matches, and proceeded to strike one. This time he

went to work more carefully, and feeling with his fingers for a match with the largest head and the greatest

amount of phosphorus, lit it at the first try. Bringing the face of the watch under the light he could hardly

believe his eyes.... It was only ten minutes past twelve. Almost the whole night was still before him.

"Oh, how long the night is!" he thought, feeling a cold shudder run down his back, and having fastened his

fur coat again and wrapped himself up, he snuggled into a corner of the sledge intending to wait patiently.

Suddenly, above the monotonous roar of the wind, he clearly distinguished another new and living sound. It

steadily strengthened, and having become quite clear diminished just as gradually. Beyond all doubt it was a

wolf, and he was so near that the movement of his jaws as he changed his cry was brought down the wind.

Vasili Andreevich turned back the collar of his coat and listened attentively. Mukhorty too strained to listen,

moving his ears, and when the wolf had ceased its howling he shifted from foot to foot and gave a warning

snort. After this Vasili Andreevich could not fall asleep again or even calm himself. The more he tried to

think of his accounts, his business, his reputation, his worth and his wealth, the more and more was he

mastered by fear, and regrets that he had not stayed the night at Grishkino dominated and mingled in all his

"Devil take the forest! Things were all right without it, thank God. Ah, if we had only put up for the night!"

he said to himself. "They say it's drunkards that freeze," he thought, "and I have had some drink." And

observing his sensations he noticed that he was beginning to shiver, without knowing whether it was from

cold or from fear. He tried to wrap himself up and lie down as before, but could no longer do so. He could not

stay in one position. He wanted to get up, to do something to master the gathering fear that was rising in him

and against which he felt himself powerless. He again got out his cigarettes and matches, but only three

matches were left and they were bad ones. The phosphorus rubbed off them all without lighting.

"The devil take you! Damned thing! Curse you!" he muttered, not knowing whom or what he was cursing,

and he flung away the crushed cigarette. He was about to throw away the matchbox too, but checked the

movement of his hand and put the box in his pocket instead. He was seized with such unrest that he could no

longer remain in one spot. He climbed out of the sledge and standing with his back to the wind began to shift

"What's the use of lying and waiting for death? Better mount the horse and get away!" The thought suddenly

occurred to him. "The horse will move when he has someone on his back. As for him," he thought of Nikita

"it's all the same to him whether he lives or dies. What is his life worth? He won't grudge his life, but I have

He untied the horse, threw the reins over his neck and tried to mount, but his coats and boots were so heavy

that he failed. Then he clambered up in the sledge and tried to mount from there, but the sledge tilted under

his weight, and he failed again. At last he drew Mukhorty nearer to the sledge, cautiously balanced on one

side of it, and managed to lie on his stomach across the horse's back. After lying like that for a while he

shifted forward once and again, threw a leg over, and finally seated himself, supporting his feet on the loose

breeching straps. The shaking of the sledge awoke Nikita. He raised himself, and it seemed to Vasili

"Listen to such fools as you! Am I to die like this for nothing?" exclaimed Vasili Andreevich. And tucking

the loose skirts of his fur coat in under his knees, he turned the horse and rode away from the sledge in the

From the time he had covered himself with the sackcloth and seated himself behind the sledge, Nikita had not

stirred. Like all those who live in touch with nature and have known want, he was patient and could wait for

hours, even days, without growing restless or irritable. He heard his master call him, but did not answer

because he did not want to move or talk. Though he still felt some warmth from the tea he had drunk and

from his energetic struggle when clambering about in the snowdrift, he knew that this warmth would not last

long and that he had no strength left to warm himself again by moving about, for he felt as tired as a horse

when it stops and refuses to go further in spite of the whip, and its master sees that it must be fed before it can

work again. The foot in the boot with a hole in it had already grown numb, and he could no longer feel his big

The thought that he might, and very probably would, die that night occurred to him, but did not seem

particularly unpleasant or dreadful. It did not seem particularly unpleasant, because his whole life had been

not a continual holiday, but on the contrary an unceasing round of toil of which he was beginning to feel

weary. And it did not seem particularly dreadful, because besides the masters he had served here, like Vasili

Andreevich, he always felt himself dependent on the Chief master, who had sent him into this life, and he

knew that when dying he would still be in that Master's power and would not be illused by Him. "It seems a

pity to give up what one is used to and accustomed to. But there's nothing to be done, I shall get used to the

"Sins?" he thought, and remembered his drunkenness, the money that had gone on drink, how he had

offended his wife, his cursing, his neglect of church and of the fasts, and all the things the priest blamed him

for at confession. "Of course they are sins. But then, did I take them on of myself? That's evidently how God

So at first he thought of what might happen to him that night, and then did not return such thoughts but gave

himself up to whatever recollections came into his head of themselves. Now he thought of Martha's arrival, of

the drunkenness among the workers and his own renunciation of drink, then of their present journey and of

Taras's house and the talk about the breakingup of the family, then of his own lad, and of Mukhorty now

sheltered under the drugget, and then of his master who made the sledge creak as he tossed about in it. "I

expect you're sorry yourself that you started out, dear man," he thought. "It would seem hard to leave a life

Then all these recollections began to grow confused and got mixed in his head, and he fell asleep.

But when Vasili Andreevich, getting on the horse, jerked the sledge, against the back of which Nikita was

leaning, and it shifted away and hit him in the back with one of its runners, he awoke and had to change his

position whether he liked it or not. Straightening his legs with difficulty and shaking the snow off them he got

up, and an agonizing cold immediately penetrated his whole body. On making out what was happening he

called to Vasili Andreevich to leave him the drugget which the horse no longer needed, so that he might wrap

Left alone, Nikita considered for a moment what he should do. He felt that he had not the strength to go off in

search of a house. It was no longer possible to sit down in his old place it was now all filled with snow. He

felt that he could not get warmer in the sledge either, for there was nothing to cover himself with, and his coat

and sheepskin no longer warmed him at all. He felt as cold as though he had nothing on but a shirt. He

became frightened. "Lord, heavenly Father!" he muttered, and was comforted by the consciousness that he

was not alone but that there was One who heard him and would not abandon him. He gave a deep sigh, and

keeping the sackcloth over his head he got inside the sledge and lay down in the place where his master had

But he could not get warm in the sledge either. At first he shivered all over, then the shivering ceased and

little by little he began to lose consciousness. He did not know whether he was dying or falling asleep, but

Meanwhile Vasili Andreevich, with his feet and the ends of the reins, urged the horse on in the direction in

which for some reason he expected the forest and forester's hut to be. The snow covered his eyes and the

wind seemed intent on stopping him, but bending forward and constantly lapping his coat over and pushing it

between himself and the cold harness pad which prevented him from sitting properly, he kept urging the

horse on. Mukhorty ambled on obediently though with difficulty, in the direction in which he was driven.

Vasili Andreevich rode for about five minutes straight ahead, as he thought, seeing nothing but the horse's

head and the white waste, and hearing only the whistle of the wind about the horse's ears and his coat collar.

Suddenly a dark patch showed up in front of him. His heart beat with joy, and he rode towards the object,

already seeing in imagination the walls of village houses. But the dark patch was not stationary, it kept

moving; and it was not a village but some tall stalks of wormwood sticking up through the snow on the

boundary between two fields, and desperately tossing about under the pressure of the wind which beat it all to

one side and whistled through it. The sight of that wormwood tormented by the pitiless wind made Vasili

Andreevich shudder, he knew not why, and he hurriedly began urging the horse on, not noticing that when

riding up to the wormwood he had quite changed his direction and was now heading the opposite way,

thought still imagining that he was riding towards where the hut should be. But the horse kept making

Again something dark appeared in front of him. Again he rejoiced, convinced that now it was certainly a

village. But once more it was the same boundary line overgrown with wormwood, once more the same

wormwood desperately tossed by the wind and carrying unreasoning terror to his heart. But its being the

same wormwood was not all, for beside it there was a horse's track partly snowed over. Vasili Andreevich

stopped, stooped down and looked carefully. It was a horsetrack only partially covered with snow, and

could be none but his own horse's hoofprints. He had evidently gone round in a small circle. "I shall perish

like that!" he thought, and not to give way to his terror he urged on the horse still move, peering into the

snowy darkness in which he saw only flitting and fitful points of light. Once he thought he heard the barking

of dogs or the howling of wolves but the sounds were so faint and indistinct that he did not know whether he

heard them or merely imagined them, and he stopped and began to listen intently.

Suddenly some terrible, deafening cry resounded near his ears, and everything shivered and shook under him.

He seized Mukhorty's neck, but that too was shaking all over and the terrible cry grew still more frightful. For

some seconds Vasili Andreevich could not collect himself or understand what was happening. It was only

that Mukhorty, whether to encourage himself or to call for help, had neighed loudly and resonantly. "Ugh,

you wretch! How you frightened me, damn you!" thought Vasili Andreevich. But even when he understood

"I must calm myself and think things over," he said to himself, but yet he could not stop and continued to

urge the horse on, without noticing that he was now going with the wind instead of against it. His body,

especially between his legs where it touched the gad of the harness and was not covered by his overcoats, was

getting painfully cold, especially when the horse walked slowly. His legs and arms trembled and his

breathing came fast. He saw himself perishing amid this dreadful snowy waste, and could see no means of

Suddenly the horse under him tumbled into something and, sinking into a snowdrift, began to plunge and

fell on his side. Vasili Andreevich jumped off, the horse struggled to his feet, plunged forward, gave one leap

and another, neighed again, and dragging the drugget and the breechband after him, disappeared, leaving

The latter pressed on after the horse, but the snow lay so deep and his coats were so heavy that, sinking above

his knees at each step, he stopped breathless after taking not more than twenty steps. "The copse, the oxen,

the leasehold, the shop, the tavern, the house with the ironroofed barn, and my heir," thought he. "How can I

leave all that? What does this mean? It cannot be!" These thoughts flashed through his mind. Then he thought

of the wormwood tossed by the wind, which he had twice ridden past, and he was seized with such terror that

he did not believe in the reality of what was happening to him. "Can this be a dream?" he thought, and tried

to wake up but could not. It was real snow that lashed his face and covered him and chilled his right hand

from which he had lost the glove, and this was a real desert in which he was now left alone like that

"Queen of Heaven! Holy Father Nicholas, teacher of temperance!" he thought, recalling the service of the day

before and the holy icon with its black face and gilt frame and the tapers which he sold to be set before that

icon which were almost immediately brought back to him scarcely burnt at all, and which he put away in the

storechest. He began to pray to that same Nicholas the Wonder Worker to save him, promising him a

thanksgiving service and some candles. But he clearly and indubitably realized that the icon, its frame, the

candles, the pries, and the thanksgiving service, though very important and necessary in church, could do

nothing for him here, and that there was and could be no connection between those candles and services and

his present disastrous plight. "I must not despair," he thought. "I must follow the horse's track before it is

snowed under. He will lead me out, or I may even catch him. Only I must not hurry, or I shall stick fast and

But in spite of his resolution to go quietly, he rushed forward and even ran, continually falling, getting up and

falling again. The horse's track was already hardly visible in places where the snow did not lie deep. "I am

lost!" thought Vasili Andreevich. I shall lose the track and not catch the horse." But at the moment he saw

something black. It was Mukhorty, and not only Mukhorty, but the sledge with the shafts and the kerchief.

Mukhorty, with the sacking and the breechband twisted round to one side, was standing not in his former

place but nearer to the shafts, shaking his head which the reins he was stepping on drew downwards. It turned

out that Vasili Andreevich had sunk in the same ravine Nikita had previously fallen into, and that Mukhorty

was bringing him back to the sledge and he had got off his back no more than fifty paces from where the

Having stumbled back to the sledge Vasili Andreevich caught hold of it and for a long time stood motionless,

trying to calm himself and recover his breath. Nikita was not in his former place, but something, already

covered with snow, was lying in the sledge and Vasili Andreevich concluded that this was Nikita. His terror

had now quite left him, and if he felt any fear it was lest the dreadful terror should return that he had

experienced when on the horse and especially when he was left alone in the snowdrift. At any cost he had to

avoid that terror, and to keep it away he must do something occupy himself with something. And the first

thing he did was to turn his back to the wind and open his fur coat. Then, as soon as he recovered his breath a

little, he shook the snow out of his boots and out of his lefthand glove (the righthand glove was hopelessly

lost and by this time probably lying somewhere under a dozen inches of snow); then as was his custom when

going out of his shop to buy grain from the peasants, he pulled his girdle low down and tightened it and

prepared for action. The first thing that occurred to him was to free Mukhorty's leg from the rein. Having

done that, and tethered him to the iron cramp at the front of the sledge where he had been before, he was

going round the horse's quarters to put the breechband and pad straight and cover him with the cloth, but at

that moment he noticed that something was moving in the sledge and Nikita's head rose up out of the snow

that covered it. Nikita, who was half frozen, rose with great difficulty and sat up, moving his hand before his

nose in a strange manner just as if he were driving away flies. He waved his hand and said something, and

seemed to Vasili Andreevich to be calling him. Vasili Andreevich left the cloth unadjusted and went up to the

"I'm dy...ing , that's what," said Nikita brokenly and with difficulty. "Give what is owing to me to my lad, or

"I feel it's my death. Forgive me for Christ's sake..." said Nikita in a tearful voice, continuing to wave his

Vasili Andreevich stood silent and motionless for half a minute. Then suddenly, with the same resolution

with which he used to strike hands when making a good purchase, he took a stop back and turning up his

sleeves began raking the snow off Nikita and out of the sledge. Having done this he hurriedly undid his

girdle, opened out his fur coat, and having pushed Nikita down, law down on top of him, covering him not

only with his fur coat but with the whole of his body, which glowed with warmth. After pushing the skirts of

his coat between Nikita and the sides of the sledge, and holding down its hem with his knees, Vasili

Andreevich lay like that face down, with his head pressed against the front of the sledge. Here he no longer

heard the horse's movements or the whistling of the wind, but only Nikita's breathing. At first and for a long

"There, and you say you are dying! Lie still and get warm, that's our way..." began Vasili Andreevich.

But to his great surprise he could say no more, for tears came to his eyes and his lower jaw began to quiver

rapidly. He stopped speaking and only gulped down the rising in his throat. "Seems I was badly frightened

and have gone quite weak," he thought. But this weakness was not only not unpleasant, but gave him a

"That's our way!" he said to himself, experiencing a strange and solemn tenderness. He lay like that for a long

time, wiping his eyes on the fur of his coat and tucking under his knew the right skirt, which the wind kept

But he longed so passionately to tell somebody of his joyful condition that he said: "Nikita!"

"There, you see, friend, I was going to perish. And you would have been frozen, and I should have..."

But again his jaws began to quiver and his eyes to fill with tears, and he could say no more.

Nikita kept him warm from below and his fur coats from above. Only his hands, with which he kept his coat

skirts down around Nikita's sides, and his legs which the wind kept uncovering, began to freeze, especially

his right hand which had no glove. But he did not think of his legs or of his hands but only of how to warm

the peasant who was lying under him. He looked out several times at Mukhorty and could see that his back

was uncovered and the drugget and breeching lying on the snow, and that he ought to get up and cover him,

but he could not bring himself to leave Nikita and disturb even for a moment the joyous condition he was in.

"No fear, we shan't lose him this time!" he said to himself, referring to his getting the peasant warm with the

Vasili Andreevich lay in that way for one hour, another, and a third, but he was unconscious of the passage of

time. At first impressions of the snowstorm, the sledgeshafts, and the horse with the shaftbow shaking

before his eyes, kept passing through his mind, then he remembered Nikita lying under him, then

recollections of the festival, his wife, the policeofficer, and the box of candles, began to mingle with these;

then again Nikita, this time lying under that box, then the peasants, customers and traders, and the white walls

of his house with its iron roof with Nikita lying underneath, presented themselves to his imagination. After

wards all these impressions blended into one nothingness. As the colours of the rainbow unite into one white

For a long time he slept without dreaming, but just before dawn the visions recommenced. It seemed to him

that he was standing by the box of tapers and that Tikhon's wife was asking for a fivekopek taper for the

Church fete. He wished to take one out and give it to her, but his hands would not lift, being held tight in his

pockets. He wanted to walk round the box but his feet would not move and his new clean galoshes had grown

to the stone floor, and he could neither lift them nor get his feet out of the galoshes. Then the taperbox was

no longer a box but a bed, and suddenly Vasili Andreevich saw himself lying in his bed at home. He was

lying in his bed and could not get up. Yet it was necessary for him to get up because Ivan Matveich, the

policeofficer, would soon call for him and he had to go with him either to bargain for the forest or to put

He asked his wife: "Nikolaevna, hasn't he come yet?" "No, he hasn't," she replied. He heard someone drive

up to the front steps. "It must be him," "No, he's gone past." "Nikolaevna! I say Nikolaevna, isn't he here

yet?" "No." He was still lying on his bed and could not get up, but was always waiting. And this waiting was

uncanny and yet joyful. Then suddenly his joy was completed. He whom he was expecting came; not Ivan

Matveich the policeofficer, but someone else yet it was he whom he had been waiting for. He came and

called him; and it was he who had called him and told him to lie down on Nikita. And Vasili Andreevich was

"I'm coming!" he cried joyfully, and that cry awoke him, but woke him up not at all the same person he had

been when he fell asleep. He tried to get up but could not, tried to move his arm and could not, to move his

leg and also could not, to turn his head and could not. He was surprised but not at all disturbed by this. He

understood that this was death, and was not at all disturbed by that either. He remembered that Nikita was

lying under him and that he had got warm and was alive, and it seemed to him that he was Nikita and Nikita

was he, and that his life was not in himself but in Nikita. He strained his ears and heard Nikita breathing and

even slightly snoring. "Nikita is alive, so I too am alive!" he said to himself triumphantly.

And he remembered his money, his shop, his house, the buying and selling, and Mironov's millions, and it

was hard for him to understand why that man, called Vasili Brekhunov, had troubled himself with all those

"Well, it was because he did not know what the real thing was," he thought, concerning that Vasili

Brekhunov. "He did not know, but now I know and know for sure. Now I know!" And again he heard the

voice of the one who had called him before. "I'm coming! Coming!" he responded gladly, and his whole

being was filled with joyful emotion. He felt himself free and that nothing could hold him back any longer.

After that Vasili Andreevich neither saw, heard, nor felt anything more in this world.

All around the snow still eddied. The same whirlwinds of snow circled about, covering the dead Vasili

Andreevich's fur coat, the shivering Mukhorty, the sledge, now scarcely to be seen, and Nikita lying at the

Nikita awoke before daybreak. He was aroused by the cold that had begun to creep down his back. He had

dreamt that he was coming from the mill with a load of his master's flour and when crossing the stream had

missed the bridge and let the cart get stuck. And he saw that he had crawled under the cart and was trying to

lift it by arching his back. But strange to say the cart did not move, it stuck to his back and he could neither

lift it nor get out from under it. It was crushing the whole of his loins. And how cold it felt! Evidently he must

crawl out. "Have done!" he exclaimed to whoever was pressing the cart down on him. "Take out the sacks!"

But the cart pressed down colder and colder, and then he heard a strange knocking, awoke completely, and

remembered everything. The cold cart was his dead and frozen master lying upon him. And the knock was

"Andreevich! Eh, Andreevich!" Nikita called cautiously, beginning to realize the truth, and straightening his

back. But Vasili Andreevich did not answer and his stomach and legs were stiff and cold and heavy like iron

He turned his head, dug with his hand through the snow about him and opened his eyes. It was daylight; the

wind was whistling as before between the shafts, and the snow was falling in the same way, except that it was

no longer driving against the frame of the sledge but silently covered both sledge and horse deeper and

deeper, and neither the horse's movements nor his breathing were any longer to be heard.

"He must have frozen too," thought Nikita of Mukhorty, and indeed those hoof knocks against the sledge,

which had awakened Nikita, were the last efforts the already numbed Mukhorty had made to keep on his feet

"O Lord God, it seems Thou are calling me too!" said Nikita. "Thy Holy Will be done. But it's uncanny....

And he again drew in his head, closed his eyes, and became unconscious, fully convinced that now he was

It was not till noon that day that peasants dug Vasili Andreevich and Nikita out of the snow with their

shovels, not more than seventy yards from the road and less than half a mile from the village.

The snow had hidden the sledge, but the shafts and the kerchief tied to them were still visible. Mukhorty,

buried up to his belly in snow, with the breeching and drugget hanging down, stood all white, his dead head

pressed against his frozen throat; icicles hung from his nostrils, his eyes were covered with hoarfrost as

though filled with tears, and he had grown so thin in that one night that he was nothing but skin and bone.

Vasili Andreevich was stiff as a frozen carcass, and when they rolled him off Nikita his legs remained apart

and his arms stretched out as they had been. His bulging hawk eyes were frozen, and his open mouth under

his clipped moustache was full of snow. But Nikita though chilled through was still alive. When he had been

brought to, he felt sure that he was already dead and that what was taking place with him was no longer

happening in this world but in the next. When he heard the peasants shouting as they dug him out and rolled

the frozen body of Vasili Andreevich from off him, he was at first surprised that in the other world peasants

should be shouting in the same old way and had the same kind of body, and then when he realized that he was

still in this world he was sorry rather than glad, especially when he found that the toes on both his feet were

Nikita lay in hospital for two months. They cut off three of his toes, but the others recovered so that he was

still able to work and went on living for another twenty years, first as a farmlabourer, then in his old age as a

watchman. He died at home as he had wished, only this year, under the icons with a lighted taper in his

hands. Before he died he asked his wife's forgiveness and forgave her for the cooper. He also took leave of

his son and grandchildren, and died sincerely glad that he was relieving his son and daughterinlaw of the

burden of having to feed him, and that he was now really passing from this life of which he was weary into

that other life which every year and every hour grew clearer and more desirable to him. Whether he is better

or worse off there where he awoke after his death, whether he was disappointed or found there what he