is teeth fell on the ground.
The blood came thick--thick and dark. You couldn't see his eyes at
all; they were swollen up. He's a tar man. The sergeant is in there
in our place drunk, but he keeps on calling for whisky. They say there
was a whole band of them, and that this bearded man was their elder,
the hetman. Three were captured and one escaped. They seized a
teacher, too; he was also with them. They don't believe in God, and
they try to persuade others to rob all the churches. That's the kind
of people they are; and our peasants, some of them pitied him--that
fellow--and others say they should have settled him for good and all.
We have such mean peasants here! Oh, my! oh, my!"

The mother, by giving the girl's disconnected, rapid talk her fixed
attention, tried to stifle her uneasiness, to dissipate her dismal
forebodings. As for the girl, she must have rejoiced in an auditor.
Her words fairly choked her and she babbled on in lowered voice with
greater and greater animation:

"Papa says it all comes from the poor crop. This is the second year
we've had a bad harvest. The people are exhausted. That's the reason
we have such peasants springing up now. What a shame! You ought to
hear them shout and fight at the village assemblies. The other day
when Vosynkov was sold out for arrears he dealt the starosta (bailiff)
a cracking blow on the face. 'There are my arrears for you!' he says."

Heavy steps were heard at the door. The mother rose to her feet with
difficulty. The blue-eyed peasant came in, and taking off his hat
asked:

"Where is the baggage?"

He lifted the valise lightly, shook it, and said:

"Why, it's empty! Marya, show the guest the way to my house," and he
walked off without looking around.

"Are you going to stay here overnight?" asked the girl.

"Yes. I'm after lace; I buy lace."

"They don't make lace here. They make lace in Tinkov and in Daryina,
but not among us."

"I'm going there to-morrow; I'm tired."

On paying for the tea she made the girl very happy by handing her three
kopecks. On the road the girl's feet splashed quickly in the mud.

"If you want to, I'll run over to Daryina, and I'll tell the women to
bring their lace here. That'll save your going there. It's about
eight miles."

"That's not necessary, my dear."

The cold air refreshed the mother as she stepped along beside the girl.
A resolution slowly formulated itself in her mind--confused, but
fra