rence holes for the pegs. Seryozhka
takes the ring and covers the hole in the ice with it.

"Just right . . . it fits. . . . We have only to renew the paint
and it will be first-rate. . . . Come, why are you standing still?
Make the lectern. Or--er--go and get logs to make the cross . . ."

Matvey, who has not tasted food or drink all day, trudges up the
hill again. Lazy as Seryozhka is, he makes the pegs with his own
hands. He knows that those pegs have a miraculous power: whoever
gets hold of a peg after the blessing of the water will be lucky
for the whole year. Such work is really worth doing.

But the real work begins the following day. Then Seryozhka displays
himself before the ignorant Matvey in all the greatness of his
talent. There is no end to his babble, his fault-finding, his whims
and fancies. If Matvey nails two big pieces of wood to make a cross,
he is dissatisfied and tells him to do it again. If Matvey stands
still, Seryozhka asks him angrily why he does not go; if he moves,
Seryozhka shouts to him not to go away but to do his work. He is
not satisfied with his tools, with the weather, or with his own
talent; nothing pleases him.

Matvey saws out a great piece of ice for a lectern.

"Why have you broken off the corner?" cries Seryozhka, and glares
at him furiously. "Why have you broken off the corner? I ask you."

"Forgive me, for Christ's sake."

"Do it over again!"

Matvey saws again . . . and there is no end to his sufferings. A
lectern is to stand by the hole in the ice that is covered by the
painted ring; on the lectern is to be carved the cross and the open
gospel. But that is not all. Behind the lectern there is to be a
high cross to be seen by all the crowd and to glitter in the sun
as though sprinkled with diamonds and rubies. On the cross is to
be a dove carved out of ice. The path from the church to the Jordan
is to be strewn with branches of fir and juniper. All this is their
task.

First of all Seryozhka sets to work on the lectern. He works with
a file, a chisel, and an awl. He is perfectly successful in the
cross on the lectern, the gospel, and the drapery that hangs down
from the lectern. Then he begins on the dove. While he is trying
to carve an expression of meekness and humility on the face of the
dove, Matvey, lumbering about like a bear, is coating with ice the
cross he has made of wood. He takes the cross and dips it in the
hole. Waiting till the water has frozen on the