TOLSTOY...............................................................................................................................................1

PREFACE ................................................................................................................................................1

PART I: TALES FOR CHILDREN: PUBLISHED ABOUT 1872. .....................................................................3

1 GOD SEES THE TRUTH, BUT WAITS ............................................................................................3

2. A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS .................................................................................................8

3. THE BEARHUNT ..........................................................................................................................25

PART II. POPULAR STORIES ........................................................................................................................31

4. WHAT MEN LIVE BY ....................................................................................................................31

5. A SPARK NEGLECTED BURNS THE HOUSE ............................................................................45

6. TWO OLD MEN ..............................................................................................................................54

7. WHERE LOVE IS, GOD IS .............................................................................................................68

PART III. A FAIRY TALE ...............................................................................................................................76

8. THE STORY OF IVAN THE FOOL................................................................................................76

PART IV. STORIES WRITTEN TO PICTURES .............................................................................................95

9. EVIL ALLURES, BUT GOOD ENDURES ....................................................................................95

10. LITTLE GIRLS WISER THAN MEN ...........................................................................................97

11. ILYAS ..............................................................................................................................................98

PART V. FOLKTALES RETOLD ................................................................................................................101

12. THE THREE HERMITS ..............................................................................................................101

13. THE IMP AND THE CRUST ......................................................................................................106

14. HOW MUCH LAND DOES A MAN NEED? .............................................................................108

15. A GRAIN AS BIG AS A HEN'S EGG .........................................................................................118

16. THE GODSON .............................................................................................................................120

17. THE REPENTANT SINNER .......................................................................................................132

18. THE EMPTY DRUM ...................................................................................................................134

PART VI. ADAPTATIONS FROM THE FRENCH ......................................................................................140

19. THE COFFEEHOUSE OF SURAT ...........................................................................................140

20. TOO DEAR! .................................................................................................................................144

PART VII. STORIES GIVEN TO AID THE PERSECUTED JEWS .............................................................147

21. ESARHADDON, KING OF ASSYRIA[23] ................................................................................147

22. WORK, DEATH AND SICKNESS .............................................................................................150

23. THREE QUESTIONS ..................................................................................................................152

First we have Tales for Children, published about the year 1872, and reminding us of the time when Tolstoy

was absorbed in efforts to educate the peasant children. This section of the book contains the two stories

which of all that he has written Tolstoy likes best. In What is Art? he claims no place among examples of

good art for any of his own productions 'except for the story God sees the Truth, but Waits, which seeks a

place in the first class (religious art), and A Prisoner in the Caucasus, which belongs to the second (universal

art).' In the first of these the subject (a favourite one with Tolstoy) is the forgiveness of injuries. The second

deals with the simplest feelings common to all men: fear and courage, pity, endurance, expressed with that

individuality, clearness, and sincerity, which Tolstoy says are the signs of true art.

Part II contains a series of stories written for the people; and among them What Men Live By, probably the

most widely circulated of all Tolstoy's tales. It is founded on the oftrepeated legend of an angel sent by God

Part III consists of a Fairy Tale, Ivan the Fool, which contains in popular form Tolstoy's indictment of

Part IV contains three short stories written to help the sale of cheap reproductions of some good drawings;

Tolstoy having for many years been anxious by all means in his power to further the circulation, at a cheap

In Part V we have a series of Russian FolkTales. The gems of this collection are the temperance story, The

Imp and the Crust, the antiwar story, The Empty Drum, and another story, How Much Land does a Man

Need? which deals with a peasant's greed for land. A Grain as big as a Hen's Egg and The Godson are highly

characteristic of the spirit of the Russian peasantry, and supply a glimpse of the sources from whence Tolstoy

Part VI gives two adaptations from the French which have appeared in no previous English edition of

Tolstoy's works. They are not merely translations, for to some extent Tolstoy when translating them,

Part VII consists of stories Tolstoy contributed in aid of the Jews left destitute after the massacres and

outrages in Kishinef and elsewhere in Russia in 1903, outrages which were forerunners of the yet more

The importance Tolstoy attributes to literature of the kind contained in this volume, is shown by the

'The artist of the future will understand that to compose a fairy tale, a little song which will touch a lullaby or

a riddle which will entertain, a jest which will amuse, or to draw a sketch such as will delight dozens of

generations or millions of children and adults, is incomparably more important and more fruitful than to

compose a novel, or a symphony, or paint a picture, of the kind which diverts some members of the wealthy

classes for a short time and is then for ever forgotten. The region of this art of the simplest feelings accessible

The sections of the book have been arranged in chronological order. The date when each story was published

IN the town of Vlad�mir lived a young merchant named Ivan Dm�tritch Aksynof. He had two shops and a

Aksynof was a handsome, fairhaired, curlyheaded fellow, full of fun, and very fond of singing. When quite

a young man he had been given to drink, and was riotous when he had had too much, but after he married he

One summer Aksynof was going to the N�zhny Fair, and as he bade goodbye to his family his wife said to

Aksynof laughed, and said, 'You are afraid that when I get to the fair I shall go on the spree.'

His wife replied: 'I do not know what I am afraid of; all I know is that I had a bad dream. I dreamt you

returned from the town, and when you took off your cap I saw that your hair was quite grey.'

Aksynof laughed. 'That's a lucky sign,' said he. 'See if I don't sell out all my goods, and bring you some

When he had travelled halfway, he met a merchant whom he knew, and they put up at the same inn for the

It was not Aksynof's habit to sleep late, and, wishing to travel while it was still cool, he aroused his driver

Then he made his way across to the landlord of the inn (who lived in a cottage at the back), paid his bill, and

When he had gone about twentyfive miles, he stopped for the horses to be fed. Aksynof rested awhile in the

passage of the inn, then he stepped out into the porch and, ordering a samovar[1] to be heated got out his

Suddenly a tryka[2] drove up with tinkling bells, and an official alighted, followed by two soldiers. He came

to Aksynof and began to question him, asking him who he was and whence he came. Aksynof answered him

fully, and said, 'Won't you have some tea with me?' But the official went on crossquestioning him and

asking him, 'Where did you spend last night? Were you alone, or with a fellowmerchant? Did you see the

Aksynof wondered why he was asked all these questions, but he described all that had happened, and then

added, 'Why do you crossquestion me as if I were a thief or a robber? I am travelling on business of my

Then the official, calling the soldiers, said, 'I am the policeofficer of this district, and I question you because

the merchant with whom you spent last night has been found with his throat cut. We must search your things.'

They entered the house. The soldiers and the policeofficer unstrapped Aksynof's luggage and searched it.

Aksynof looked, and seeing a bloodstained knife taken from his bag, he was frightened.

Aksynof tried to answer, but could hardly utter a word, and only stammered: 'I I don't know not mine.'

Then the policeofficer said, 'This morning the merchant was found in bed with his throat cut. You are the

only person who could have done it. The house was locked from inside, and no one else was there. Here is

this bloodstained knife in your bag, and your face and manner betray you! Tell me how you killed him, and

Aksynof swore he had not done it; that he had not seen the merchant after they had had tea together; that he

had no money except eight thousand roubles[3] of his own, and that the knife was not his. But his voice was

The policeofficer ordered the soldiers to bind Aksynof and to put him in the cart. As they tied his feet

together and flung him into the cart, Aksynof crossed himself and wept. His money and goods were taken

from him, and he was sent to the nearest town and imprisoned there. Enquiries as to his character were made

in Vlad�mir. The merchants and other inhabitants of that town said that in former days he used to drink and

waste his time, but that he was a good man. Then the trial came on: he was charged with murdering a

His wife was in despair, and did not know what to believe. Her children were all quite small; one was a baby

at her breast. Taking them all with her, she went to the town where her husband was in gaol. At first she was

not allowed to see him; but, after much begging, she obtained permission from the officials, and was taken to

him. When she saw her husband in prisondress and in chains, shut up with thieves and criminals, she fell

down, and did not come to her senses for a long time. Then she drew her children to her, and sat down near

him. She told him of things at home, and asked about what had happened to him. He told her all, and she

His wife told him that she had sent a petition to the Tsar, but that it had not been accepted.

Then his wife said, 'It was not for nothing I dreamt your hair had turned grey. You remember? You should

not have started that day.' And passing her fingers through his hair, she said: 'Vanya dearest, tell your wife the

'So you, too, suspect me!' said Aksynof, and hiding his face in his hands, he began to weep. Then a soldier

came to say that the wife and children must go away; and Aksynof said goodbye to his family for the last

When they were gone, Aksynof recalled what had been said, and when he remembered that his wife also had

suspected him, he said to himself, 'It seems that only God can know the truth, it is to Him alone we must

Aksynof was condemned to be flogged and sent to the mines. So he was flogged with a knout, and when the

wounds made by the knout were healed, he was driven to Siberia with other convicts.

For twentysix years Aksynof lived as a convict in Siberia. His hair turned white as snow and his beard grew

long, thin, and grey. All his mirth went; he stooped; he walked slowly, spoke little, and never laughed, but he

In prison Aksynof learnt to make boots, and earned a little money, with which he bought The Lives of the

Saints. He read this book when there was light enough in the prison; and on Sundays in the prisonchurch he

The prison authorities liked Aksynof for his meekness, and his fellowprisoners respected him: they called

him 'Grandfather,' and 'The Saint.' When they wanted to petition the prison authorities about anything, they

always made Aksynof their spokesman, and when there were quarrels among the prisoners they came to him

No news reached Aksynof from his home, and he did not even know if his wife and children were still alive.

One day a fresh gang of convicts came to the prison. In the evening the old prisoners collected round the new

ones and asked them what towns or villages they came from, and what they were sentenced for. Among the

rest Aksynof sat down near the newcomers, and listened with downcast air to what was said.

One of the new convicts, a tall, strong man of sixty, with a closelycropped grey beard, was telling the others

'Well, friends,' he said, 'I only took a horse that was tied to a sledge, and I was arrested and accused of

stealing. I said I had only taken it to get home quicker, and had then let it go; besides, the driver was a

personal friend of mine. So I said, "It's all right." "No," said they, "you stole it." But how or where I stole it

they could not say. I once really did something wrong, and ought by rights to have come here long ago, but

that time I was not found out. Now I have been sent here for nothing at all. . . . Eh, but it's lies I'm telling you;

'From Vlad�mir. My family are of that town. My name is Makar, and they also call me Semynitch.'

Aksynof raised his head and said: 'Tell me, Semynitch, do you know anything of the merchants Aksynof, of

'Know them? Of course I do. The Aksynofs are rich, though their father is in Siberia: a sinner like ourselves,

Aksynof did not like to speak of his misfortune. He only sighed, and said, 'For my sins I have been in prison

But Aksynof only said, 'Well, well I must have deserved it!' He would have said no more, but his

companions told the newcomer how Aksynof came to be in Siberia: how some one had killed a merchant

and had put a knife among Aksynof's things, and Aksynof had been unjustly condemned.

When Makar Semynitch heard this, he looked at Aksynof, slapped his own knee, and exclaimed, 'Well this is

The others asked him why he was so surprised, and where he had seen Aksynof before; but Makar Semynitch

These words made Aksynof wonder whether this man knew who had killed the merchant; so he said 'Perhaps,

'How could I help hearing? The world's full of rumours. But it's long ago, and I've forgotten what I heard.'

Makar Semynitch laughed, and replied, 'It must have been him in whose bag the knife was found! If some

one else hid the knife there, "He's not a thief till he's caught," as the saying is. How could any one put a knife

When Aksynof heard these words, he felt sure this was the man who had killed the merchant. He rose and

He felt terribly unhappy, and all sorts of images rose in his mind. There was the image of his wife as she was

when he parted from her to go to the fair. He saw her as if she were present; her face and her eyes rose before

him; he heard her speak and laugh. Then he saw his children, quite little, as they were at that time: one with a

little cloak on, another at his mother's breast. And then he remembered himself as he used to be young and

merry. He remembered how he sat playing the guitar in the porch of the inn where he was arrested, and how

free from care he had been. He saw, in his mind, the place where he was flogged, the executioner, and the

people standing around; the chains, the convicts, all the twentysix years of his prison life, and his premature

old age. The thought of it all made him so wretched that he was ready to kill himself.

'And it's all that villain's doing!' thought Aksynof. And his anger was so great against Makar Semynitch that

he longed for vengeance, even if he himself should perish for it. He kept repeating prayers all night, but could

get no peace. During the day he did not go near Makar Semynitch, nor even look at him.

A fortnight passed in this way. Aksynof could not sleep at nights, and was so miserable that he did not know

One night as he was walking about the prison he noticed some earth that came rolling out from under one of

the shelves on which the prisoners slept. He stopped to see what it was. Suddenly Makar Semynitch crept out

from under the shelf, and looked up at Aksynof with frightened face. Aksynof tried to pass without looking at

him, but Makar seized his hand and told him that he had dug a hole under the wall, getting rid of the earth by

putting it into his highboots, and emptying it out every day on the road when the prisoners were driven to

'Just you keep quiet, old man, and you shall get out too. If you blab they'll flog the life out of me, but I will

Aksynof trembled with anger as he looked at his enemy. He drew his hand away, saying, 'I have no wish to

escape, and you have no need to kill me; you killed me long ago! As to telling of you I may do so or not,

Next day, when the convicts were led out to work, the convoy soldiers noticed that one or other of the

prisoners emptied some earth out of his boots. The prison was searched, and the tunnel found. The Governor

came and questioned all the prisoners to find out who had dug the hole. They all denied any knowledge of it.

Those who knew, would not betray Makar Semynitch, knowing he would be flogged almost to death. At last

Makar Semynitch stood as if he were quite unconcerned, looking at the Governor and not so much as

glancing at Aksynof. Aksynof's lips and hands trembled, and for a long time he could not utter a word. He

thought, 'Why should I screen him who ruined my life? Let him pay for what I have suffered. But if I tell,

they will probably flog the life out of him and maybe I suspect him wrongly. And, after all, what good would

'Well, old man,' repeated the Governor, 'tell us the truth: who has been digging under the wall?'

Aksynof glanced at Makar Semynitch, and said 'I cannot say, your honour. It is not God's will that I should

However much the Governor tried, Aksynof would say no more, and so the matter had to be left.

That night, when Aksynof was lying on his bed and just beginning to doze, some one came quietly and sat

Makar Semynitch was silent. So Aksynof sat up and said, 'What do you want? Go away, or I will call the

Makar Semynitch bent close over Aksynof, and whispered, 'Ivan Dm�tritch, forgive me!'

'It was I who killed the merchant and hid the knife among your things. I meant to kill you too, but I heard a

Aksynof was silent, and did not know what to say. Makar Semynitch slid off the bedshelf and knelt upon

the ground. 'Ivan Dm�tritch,' said he, 'forgive me! For the love of God, forgive me! I will confess that it was I

'It is easy for you to talk,' said Aksynof, 'but I have suffered for you these twentysix years. Where could I go

to now? . . . My wife is dead, and my children have forgotten me. I have nowhere to go. . . .'

Makar Semynitch did not rise, but beat his head on the floor. 'Ivan Dm�tritch, forgive me!' he cried. 'When

they flogged me with the knout it was not so hard to bear as it is to see you now . . . yet you had pity on me,

and did not tell. For Christ's sake forgive me, wretch that I am!' And he began to sob.

'God will forgive you!' said he. 'Maybe I am a hundred times worse than you.' And at these words his heart

grew light, and the longing for home left him. He no longer had any desire to leave the prison, but only hoped

In spite of what Aksynof had said, Maker Semynitch confessed his guilt. But when the order for his release

One day he received a letter from home. It was from his mother, who wrote: 'I am getting old, and should like

to see my dear son once more before I die. Come and say goodbye to me and bury me, and then, if God

pleases, return to service again with my blessing. But I have found a girl for you, who is sensible and good

and has some property. If you can love her, you might marry her and remain at home.'

Zh�lin thought it over. It was quite true, the old lady was failing fast and he might not have another chance to

So he went to his Colonel, obtained leave of absence, said goodbye to his comrades, stood the soldiers four

It was a time of war in the Caucasus. The roads were not safe by night or day. If ever a Russian ventured to

ride or walk any distance away from his fort, the Tartars killed him or carried him off to the hills. So it had

been arranged that twice every week a body of soldiers should march from one fortress to the next to convoy

It was summer. At daybreak the baggagetrain got ready under shelter of the fortress; the soldiers marched

out; and all started along the road. Zh�lin was on horseback, and a cart with his things went with the

baggagetrain. They had sixteen miles to go. The baggagetrain moved slowly; sometimes the soldiers

stopped, or perhaps a wheel would come off one of the carts, or a horse refuse to go on, and then everybody

When by the sun it was already past noon, they had not gone half the way. It was dusty and hot, the sun was

scorching and there was no shelter anywhere: a bare plain all round not a tree, not a bush, by the road.

Zh�lin rode on in front, and stopped, waiting for the baggage to overtake him. Then he heard the signalhorn

sounded behind him: the company had again stopped. So he began to think: 'Hadn't I better ride on by

myself? My horse is a good one: if the Tartars do attack me, I can gallop away. Perhaps, however, it would be

As he sat considering, Kost�lin, an officer carrying a gun, rode up to him and said:

'Come along, Zh�lin, let's go on by ourselves. It's dreadful; I am famished, and the heat is terrible. My shirt is

Kost�lin was a stout, heavy man, and the perspiration was running down his red face. Zh�lin thought awhile,

So they rode forward along the road across the plain, talking, but keeping a lookout on both sides. They

could see afar all round. But after crossing the plain the road ran through a valley between two hills, and

Zh�lin said: 'We had better climb that hill and have a look round, or the Tartars may be on us before we know

'No,' he said; 'you can wait here if you like, but I'll go and look round.' And he turned his horse to the left, up

the hill. Zh�lin's horse was a hunter, and carried him up the hillside as if it had wings. (He had bought it for a

hundred roubles as a colt out of a herd, and had broken it in himself.) Hardly had he reached the top of the

hill, when he saw some thirty Tartars not much more than a hundred yards ahead of him. As soon as he

caught sight of them he turned round but the Tartars had also seen him, and rushed after him at full gallop,

getting their guns out as they went. Down galloped Zh�lin as fast as the horse's legs could go, shouting to

And, in thought, he said to his horse: 'Get me well out of this, my pet; don't stumble, for if you do it's all up.

But, instead of waiting, Kost�lin, as soon as he caught sight of the Tartars, turned back towards the fortress at

full speed, whipping his horse now on one side now on the other, and its switching tail was all that could be

Zh�lin saw it was a bad lookout; the gun was gone, and what could he do with nothing but his sword? He

turned his horse towards the escort, thinking to escape, but there were six Tartars rushing to cut him off. His

horse was a good one, but theirs were still better; and besides, they were across his path. He tried to rein in

his horse and to turn another way, but it was going so fast it could not stop, and dashed on straight towards

the Tartars. He saw a redbearded Tartar on a grey horse, with his gun raised, come at him, yelling and

'Ah,' thought Zh�lin, 'I know you, devils that you are. If you take me alive, you'll put me in a pit and flog me.

Zh�lin, though not a big fellow, was brave. He drew his sword and dashed at the redbearded Tartar thinking:

He was still a horse's length away from him, when he was fired at from behind, and his horse was hit. It fell

He tried to rise, but two illsavoured Tartars were already sitting on him and binding his hands behind his

back. He made an effort and flung them off, but three others jumped from their horses and began beating his

head with the butts of their guns. His eyes grew dim, and he fell back. The Tartars seized him, and, taking

spare girths from their saddles, twisted his hands behind him and tied them with a Tartar knot. They knocked

his cap off, pulled off his boots, searched him all over, tore his clothes, and took his money and his watch.

Zh�lin looked round at his horse. There it lay on its side, poor thing, just as it had fallen; struggling, its legs in

the air, unable to touch the ground. There was a hole in its head, and black blood was pouring out, turning the

One of the Tartars went up to the horse and began taking the saddle off, it still kicked, so he drew a dagger

and cut its windpipe. A whistling sound came from its throat, the horse gave one plunge, and all was over.

The Tartars took the saddle and trappings. The redbearded Tartar mounted his horse, and the others lifted

Zh�lin into the saddle behind him. To prevent his falling off, they strapped him to the Tartar's girdle; and then

So there sat Zh�lin, swaying from side to side, his head striking against the Tartar's stinking back. He could

see nothing but that muscular back and sinewy neck, with its closely shaven, bluish nape. Zh�lin's head was

wounded: the blood had dried over his eyes, and he could neither shift his position on the saddle nor wipe the

They rode up and down hills for a long way. Then they reached a river which they forded, and came to a hard

Zh�lin tried to see where they were going, but his eyelids were stuck together with blood, and he could not

Twilight began to fall; they crossed another river and rode up a stony hillside. There was a smell of smoke

here, and dogs were barking. They had reached an Aoul (a Tartar village). The Tartars got off their horses;

Tartar children came and stood round Zh�lin, shrieking with pleasure and throwing stones at him.

The Tartar drove the children away, took Zh�lin off the horse, and called his man. A Nogay[5] with high

cheekbones, and nothing on but a shirt (and that so torn that his breast was all bare), answered the call. The

Tartar gave him an order. He went and fetched shackles: two blocks of oak with iron rings attached, and a

They untied Zh�lin's arms, fastened the shackles on his leg, and dragged him to a barn, where they pushed

Zh�lin fell on a heap of manure. He lay still awhile then groped about to find a soft place, and settled down.

That night Zh�lin hardly slept at all. It was the time of year when the nights are short, and daylight soon

showed itself through a chink in the wall. He rose, scratched to make the chink bigger, and peeped out.

Through the hole he saw a road leading downhill; to the right was a Tartar hut with two trees near it, a black

dog lay on the threshold, and a goat and kids were moving about wagging their tails. Then he saw a young

Tartar woman in a long, loose, brightcoloured gown, with trousers and high boots showing from under it.

She had a coat thrown over her head, on which she carried a large metal jug filled with water. She was

leading by the hand a small, closelyshaven Tartar boy, who wore nothing but a shirt; and as she went along

balancing herself, the muscles of her back quivered. This woman carried the water into the hut, and, soon

after, the redbearded Tartar of yesterday came out dressed in a silk tunic, with a silverhilted dagger

hanging by his side, shoes on his bare feet, and a tall black sheepskin cap set far back on his head. He came

out, stretched himself, and stroked his red beard. He stood awhile, gave an order to his servant, and went

Then two lads rode past from watering their horses. The horses' noses were wet. Some other closelyshaven

boys ran out, without any trousers, and wearing nothing but their shirts. They crowded together, came to the

barn, picked up a twig, and began pushing it in at the chink. Zh�lin gave a shout, and the boys shrieked and

Zh�lin was very thirsty: his throat was parched, and he thought: 'If only they would come and so much as

Then he heard some one unlocking the barn. The redbearded Tartar entered, and with him was another a

smaller man, dark, with bright black eyes, red cheeks and a short beard. He had a merry face, and was always

laughing. This man was even more richly dressed than the other. He wore a blue silk tunic trimmed with

gold, a large silver dagger in his belt, red morocco slippers worked with silver, and over these a pair of thick

The redbearded Tartar entered, muttered something as if he were annoyed, and stood leaning against the

doorpost, playing with his dagger, and glaring askance at Zh�lin, like a wolf. The dark one, quick and lively

and moving as if on springs, came straight up to Zh�lin, squatted down in front of him, slapped him on the

shoulder, and began to talk very fast in his own language. His teeth showed, and he kept winking, clicking his

Zh�lin could not understand a word, but said, 'Drink! give me water to drink!'

The dark man only laughed. 'Good Russ,' he said, and went on talking in his own tongue.

The dark man understood, and laughed. Then he looked out of the door, and called to some one: 'Dina!'

A little girl came running in: she was about thirteen, slight, thin, and like the dark Tartar in face. Evidently

she was his daughter. She, too, had clear black eyes, and her face was goodlooking. She had on a long blue

gown with wide sleeves, and no girdle. The hem of her gown, the front, and the sleeves, were trimmed with

red. She wore trousers and slippers, and over the slippers stouter shoes with high heels. Round her neck she

had a necklace made of Russian silver coins. She was bareheaded, and her black hair was plaited with a

Her father gave an order, and she ran away and returned with a metal jug. She handed the water to Zh�lin and

sat down, crouching so that her knees were as high as her head, and there she sat with wide open eyes

When Zh�lin handed the empty jug back to her, she gave such a sudden jump back, like a wild goat, that it

made her father laugh. He sent her away for something else. She took the jug, ran out, and brought back some

unleavened bread on a round board, and once more sat down, crouching, and looking on with staring eves.

He, too, knew no Russian. All Zh�lin could make out was that he was told to go somewhere.

Zh�lin followed the Ngay, but limped, for the shackles dragged his feet so that he could hardly step at all. On

getting out of the barn he saw a Tartar village of about ten houses, and a Tartar church with a small tower.

Three horses stood saddled before one of the houses; little boys were holding them by the reins. The dark

Tartar came out of this house, beckoning with his hand for Zh�lin to follow him. Then he laughed, said

Zh�lin entered. The room was a good one: the walls smoothly plastered with clay. Near the front wall lay a

pile of brightcoloured feather beds; the side walls were covered with rich carpets used as hangings, and on

these were fastened guns, pistols and swords, all inlaid with silver. Close to one of the walls was a small

stove on a level with the earthen floor. The floor itself was as clean as a thrashingground. A large space in

one corner was spread over with felt, on which were rugs, and on these rugs were cushions stuffed with

down. And on these cushions sat five Tartars, the dark one, the redhaired one, and three guests. They were

wearing their indoor slippers, and each had a cushion behind his back. Before them were standing millet

cakes on a round board, melted butter in a bowl and a jug of buza, or Tartar beer. They ate both cakes and

The dark man jumped up and ordered Zh�lin to be placed on one side, not on the carpet but on the bare

ground, then he sat down on the carpet again, and offered millet cakes and buza to his guests. The servant

made Zh�lin sit down, after which he took off his own overshoes, put them by the door where the other shoes

were standing, and sat down nearer to his masters on the felt, watching them as they ate, and licking his lips.

The Tartars ate as much as they wanted, and a woman dressed in the same way as the girl in a long gown

and trousers, with a kerchief on her head came and took away what was left, and brought a handsome

basin, and an ewer with a narrow spout. The Tartars washed their hands, folded them, went down on their

knees, blew to the four quarters, and said their prayers. After they had talked for a while, one of the guests

'You were captured by KaziMohammed,' he said, and pointed at the redbearded Tartar. 'And

KaziMohammed has given you to Abdul Murat,' pointing at the dark one. 'Abdul Murat is now your master.'

Zh�lin was silent. Then Abdul Murat began to talk, laughing, pointing to Zh�lin, and repeating, 'Soldier Russ,

The interpreter said, 'He orders you to write home and tell them to send a ransom, and as soon as the money

The Tartars talked awhile, and then the interpreter said, 'Three thousand roubles.'

Abdul jumped up and, waving his arms, talked to Zh�lin' thinking, as before, that he would understand. The

Zh�lin considered, and said, 'Five hundred roubles.' At this the Tartars began speaking very quickly, all

together. Abdul began to shout at the redbearded one, and jabbered so fast that the spittle spurted out of his

They quietened down after a while, and the interpreter said, 'Five hundred roubles is not enough for the

master. He paid two hundred for you himself. KaziMohammed was in debt to him, and he took you in

payment. Three thousand roubles! Less than that won't do. If you refuse to write, you will be put into a pit

So he sprang to his feet, and said, 'You tell that dog that if he tries to frighten me I will not write at all, and he

They jabbered for a long time, and then the dark man jumped up, came to Zh�lin, and said: 'Dzhigit Russ,

dzhigit Russ!' (Dzhigit in their language means 'brave.') And he laughed, and said something to the

Zh�lin stuck to it: 'I will not give more than five hundred. And if you kill me you'll get nothing at all.'

The Tartars talked awhile, then sent the servant out to fetch something, and kept looking, now at Zh�lin, now

at the door. The servant returned, followed by a stout, barefooted, tattered man, who also had his leg

Zh�lin gasped with surprise: it was Kost�lin. He, too, had been taken. They were put side by side, and began

to tell each other what had occurred. While they talked, the Tartars looked on in silence. Zh�lin related what

had happened to him; and Kost�lin told how his horse had stopped, his gun missed fire, and this same Abdul

Abdul jumped up, pointed to Kost�lin, and said something. The interpreter translated that they both now

belonged to one master, and the one who first paid the ransom would be set free first.

'There now,' he said to Zh�lin, 'you get angry, but your comrade here is gentle; he has written home, and they

Zh�lin replied: 'My comrade can do as he likes; maybe he is rich, I am not. It must be as I said. Kill me, if you

like you will gain nothing by it; but I will not write for more than five hundred roubles.'

They were silent. Suddenly up sprang Abdul, brought a little box, took out a pen, ink, and a bit of paper, gave

them to Zh�lin, slapped him on the shoulder, and made a sign that he should write. He had agreed to take five

'Wait a bit!' said Zh�lin to the interpreter; 'tell him that he must feed us properly, give us proper clothes and

boots, and let us be together. It will be more cheerful for us. And he must have these shackles taken off our

The master also laughed, heard the interpreter, and said: 'I will give them the best of clothes: a cloak and

boots fit to be married in. I will feed them like princes; and if they like they can live together in the barn. But

I can't take off the shackles, or they will run away. They shall be taken off, however, at night.' And he jumped

Zh�lin wrote the letter, but addressed it wrongly, so that it should not reach its destination, thinking to

Zh�lin and Kost�lin were taken back to the barn and given some maize straw, a jug of water, some bread, two

old cloaks, and some wornout military boots evidently taken from the corpses of Russian soldiers, At

night their shackles were taken off their feet, and they were locked up in the barn.

Zh�lin and his friend lived in this way for a whole month. The master always laughed and said: 'You, Ivan,

good! I, Abdul, good!' But he fed them badly giving them nothing but unleavened bread of milletflour

Kost�lin wrote home a second time, and did nothing but mope and wait for the money to arrive. He would sit

for days together in the barn sleeping, or counting the days till a letter could come.

Zh�lin knew his letter would reach no one, and he did not write another. He thought: 'Where could my mother

get enough money to ransom me? As it is she lived chiefly on what I sent her. If she had to raise five hundred

He would walk about the Aoul whistling; or would sit working, modelling dolls of clay, or weaving baskets

Once he modelled a doll with a nose and hands and feet and with a Tartar gown on, and put it up on the roof.

When the Tartar women came out to fetch water, the master's daughter, Dina, saw the doll and called the

women, who put down their jugs and stood looking and laughing. Zh�lin took down the doll and held it out to

them. They laughed, but dared not take it. He put down the doll and went into the barn, waiting to see what

In the morning, at daybreak, he looked out. Dina came out of the house and sat down on the threshold with

the doll, which she had dressed up in bits of red stuff, and she rocked it like a baby, singing a Tartar lullaby.

An old woman came out and scolded her, and snatching the doll away she broke it to bits, and sent Dina

But Zh�lin made another doll, better than the first, and gave it to Dina. Once Dina brought a little jug, put it

'What pleases her so?' wondered Zh�lin. He took the jug thinking it was water, but it turned out to be milk. He

How pleased Dina was! 'Good, Ivan, good!' said she, and she jumped up and clapped her hands. Then, seizing

the jug, she ran away. After that, she stealthily brought him some milk every day.

The Tartars make a kind of cheese out of goat's milk, which they dry on the roofs of their houses; and

sometimes, on the sly, she brought him some of this cheese. And once, when Abdul had killed a sheep she

brought Zh�lin a bit of mutton in her sleeve. She would just throw the things down and run away.

One day there was a heavy storm, and the rain fell in torrents for a whole hour. All the streams became

turbid. At the ford, the water rose till it was seven feet high, and the current was so strong that it rolled the

stones about. Rivulets flowed everywhere, and the rumbling in the hills never ceased. When the storm was

over, the water ran in streams down the village street. Zh�lin got his master to lend him a knife, and with it he

shaped a small cylinder, and cutting some little boards, he made a wheel to which he fixed two dolls, one on

each side. The little girls brought him some bits of stuff, and he dressed the dolls, one as a peasant, the other

as a peasant woman. Then he fastened them in their places, and set the wheel so that the stream should work

The whole village collected round. Little boys and girls, Tartar men and women, all came and clicked their

Abdul had a Russian clock, which was broken. He called Zh�lin and showed it to him, clicking his tongue.

He took it to pieces with the knife, sorted the pieces, and put them together again, so that the clock went all

The master was delighted, and made him a present of one of his old tunics which was all in holes. Zh�lin had

After that Zh�lin's fame spread; and Tartars came from distant villages, bringing him now the lock of a gun or

of a pistol, now a watch, to mend. His master gave him some tools pincers, gimlets, and a file.

One day a Tartar fell ill, and they came to Zh�lin saying, 'Come and heal him!' Zh�lin knew nothing about

doctoring, but he went to look, and thought to himself, 'Perhaps he will get well anyway.'

He returned to the barn, mixed some water with sand, and then in the presence of the Tartars whispered some

words over it and gave it to the sick man to drink. Luckily for him, the Tartar recovered.

Zh�lin began to pick up their language a little, and some of the Tartars grew familiar with him. When they

wanted him, they would call: 'Ivan! Ivan!' Others, however, still looked at him askance, as at a wild beast.

The redbearded Tartar disliked Zh�lin. Whenever he saw him he frowned and turned away, or swore at him.

There was also an old man there who did not live in the Aoul, but used to come up from the foot of the hill.

Zh�lin only saw him when he passed on his way to the Mosque. He was short, and had a white cloth wound

round his hat. His beard and moustaches were clipped, and white as snow; and his face was wrinkled and

brickred. His nose was hooked like a hawk's, his grey eyes looked cruel, and he had no teeth except two

tusks. He would pass, with his turban on his head, leaning on his staff, and glaring round him like a wolf. If

Once Zh�lin descended the hill to see where the old man lived. He went down along the pathway and came to

a little garden surrounded by a stone wall; and behind the wall he saw cherry and apricot trees, and a hut with

a flat roof. He came closer, and saw hives made of plaited straw, and bees flying about and humming. The

old man was kneeling, busy doing something with a hive. Zh�lin stretched to look, and his shackles rattled.

The old man turned round, and, giving a yell, snatched a pistol from his belt and shot at Zh�lin, who just

The old man went to Zh�lin's master to complain. The master called Zh�lin, and said with a laugh, 'Why did

But the old man was in a rage; he hissed and jabbered, showing his tusks, and shaking his fists at Zh�lin.

Zh�lin could not understand all, but he gathered that the old man was telling Abdul he ought not to keep

'He is a great man!' said the master. 'He was the bravest of our fellows; he killed many Russians and was at

one time very rich. He had three wives and eight sons, and they all lived in one village. Then the Russians

came and destroyed the village, and killed seven of his sons. Only one son was left, and he gave himself up to

the Russians. The old man also went and gave himself up, and lived among the Russians for three months. At

the end of that time he found his son, killed him with his own hands, and then escaped. After that he left off

fighting, and went to Mecca to pray to God; that is why he wears a turban. One who has been to Mecca is

called "Hadji," and wears a turban. He does not like you fellows. He tells me to kill you. But I can't kill you. I

have paid money for you and, besides, I have grown fond of you, Ivan. Far from killing you, I would not even

let you go if I had not promised.' And he laughed, saying in Russian, 'You, Ivan, good; I, Abdul, good!'

Zh�lin lived in this way for a month. During the day he sauntered about the Aoul or busied himself with some

handicraft, but at night, when all was silent in the Aoul, he dug at the floor of the barn. It was no easy task

digging, because of the stones; but he worked away at them with his file, and at last had made a hole under

'If only I could get to know the lay of the land,' thought he, 'and which way to go! But none of the Tartars will

So he chose a day when the master was away from home, and set off after dinner to climb the hill beyond the

village, and to look around. But before leaving home the master always gave orders to his son to watch

Zh�lin, and not to lose sight of him. So the lad ran after Zh�lin, shouting: 'Don't go! Father does not allow it.

Zh�lin tried to persuade him, and said: 'I'm not going far; I only want to climb that hill. I want to find a herb

to cure sick people with. You come with me if you like. How can I run away with these shackles on?

So he persuaded the lad, and they went. To look at the hill, it did not seem far to the top; but it was hard

walking with shackles on his leg. Zh�lin went on and on, but it was all he could do to reach the top. There he

sat down and noted how the land lay. To the south, beyond the barn, was a valley in which a herd of horses

was pasturing and at the bottom of the valley one could see another Aoul. Beyond that was a still steeper hill,

and another hill beyond that. Between the hills, in the blue distance, were forests, and still further off were

mountains, rising higher and higher. The highest of them were covered with snow, white as sugar; and one

snowy peak towered above all the rest. To the east and to the west were other such hills, and here and there

smoke rose from Aouls in the ravines. 'Ah,' thought he, 'all that is Tartar country.' And he turned towards the

Russian side. At his feet he saw a river, and the Aoul he lived in, surrounded by little gardens. He could see

women, like tiny dolls, sitting by the river rinsing clothes. Beyond the Aoul was a hill, lower than the one to

the south, and beyond it two other hills well wooded; and between these, a smooth bluish plain, and far, far

across the plain something that looked like a cloud of smoke. Zh�lin tried to remember where the sun used to

rise and set when he was living in the fort, and he saw that there was no mistake: the Russian fort must be in

that plain. Between those two hills he would have to make his way when he escaped.

The sun was beginning to set. The white, snowy mountains turned red, and the dark hills turned darker; mists

rose from the ravine, and the valley, where he supposed the Russian fort to be, seemed on fire with the sunset

glow. Zh�lin looked carefully. Something seemed to be quivering in the valley like smoke from a chimney,

It had grown late. The Mullah's cry was heard. The herds were being driven home, the cows were lowing, and

the lad kept saying, 'Come home!' But Zh�lin did not feel inclined to go away.

At last, however, they went back. 'Well,' thought Zh�lin, 'now that I know the way, it is time to escape.' He

thought of running away that night. The nights were dark the moon had waned. But as illluck would

have it, the Tartars returned home that evening. They generally came back driving cattle before them and in

good spirits. But this time they had no cattle. All they brought home was the dead body of a Tartar the red

one's brother who had been killed. They came back looking sullen, and they all gathered together for the

They wrapped the body in a piece of linen, without any coffin, and carried it out of the village, and laid it on

the grass under some planetrees. The Mullah and the old men came. They wound clothes round their caps,

took off their shoes, and squatted on their heels, side by side, near the corpse.

The Mullah was in front: behind him in a row were three old men in turbans, and behind them again the other

Tartars. All cast down their eyes and sat in silence. This continued a long time, until the Mullah raised his

head and said: 'Allah!' (which means God). He said that one word, and they all cast down their eyes again,

and were again silent for a long time. They sat quite still, not moving or making any sound.

Again the Mullah lifted his head and said, 'Allah!' and they all repeated: 'Allah! Allah!' and were again silent.

The dead body lay immovable on the grass, and they sat as still as if they too were dead. Not one of them

moved. There was no sound but that of the leaves of the planetrees stirring in the breeze. Then the Mullah

repeated a prayer, and they all rose. They lifted the body and carried it in their arms to a hole in the ground. It

was not an ordinary hole, but was hollowed out under the ground like a vault. They took the body under the

arms and by the legs, bent it, and let it gently down, pushing it under the earth in a sitting posture, with the

The Nogay brought some green rushes, which they stuffed into the hole, and, quickly covering it with earth,

they smoothed the ground, and set an upright stone at the head of the grave. Then they trod the earth down,

The redbearded Tartar gave money to the old men; then he too rose, took a whip, struck himself with it three

The next morning Zh�lin saw the red Tartar, followed by three others, leading a mare out of the village. When

they were beyond the village, the redbearded Tartar took off his tunic and turned up his sleeves, showing his

stout arms. Then he drew a dagger and sharpened it on a whetstone. The other Tartars raised the mare's head,

and he cut her throat, threw her down and began skinning her, loosening the hide with his big hands. Women

and girls came and began to wash the entrails and the inwards. The mare was cut up, the pieces taken into the

hut, and the whole village collected at the red Tartar's hut for a funeral feast.

For three days they went on eating the flesh of the mare, drinking buza, and praying for the dead man. All the

Tartars were at home. On the fourth day at dinnertime Zh�lin saw them preparing to go away. Horses were

brought out, they got ready, and some ten of them (the red one among them) rode away; but Abdul stayed at

'Ah!' thought Zh�lin, 'tonight is the time to escape.' And he told Kost�lin; but Kost�lin's heart failed him.

'If we can't,' said Zh�lin, 'we'll sleep in the forest. See here, I have saved some cheeses. What's the good of

sitting and moping here? If they send your ransom well and good; but suppose they don't manage to

collect it? The Tartars are angry now, because the Russians have killed one of their men. They are talking of

Zh�lin crept into the hole, widened it so that Kost�lin might also get through, and then they both sat waiting

As soon as all was quiet, Zh�lin crept under the wall, got out, and whispered to Kost�lin, 'Come!' Kost�lin

crept out, but in so doing he caught a stone with his foot and made a noise. The master had a very vicious

watchdog, a spotted one called Oulyashin. Zh�lin had been careful to feed him for some time before.

Oulyashin heard the noise and began to bark and jump, and the other dogs did the same. Zh�lin gave a slight

whistle, and threw him a bit of cheese. Oulyashin knew Zh�lin, wagged his tail, and stopped barking.

But the master had heard the dog, and shouted to him from his hut, 'Hayt, hayt, Oulyashin!'

Zh�lin, however, scratched Oulyashin behind the ears, and the dog was quiet, and rubbed against his legs,

They sat hidden behind a corner for awhile. All became silent again, only a sheep coughed inside a shed, and

the water rippled over the stones in the hollow. It was dark, the stars were high overhead, and the new moon

showed red as it set, horns upward, behind the hill. In the valleys the fog was white as milk.

They started; but they had only gone a few steps when they heard the Mullah crying from the roof, 'Allah,

Beshmillah! Ilrahman!' That meant that the people would be going to the Mosque. So they sat down again,

hiding behind a wall, and waited a long time till the people had passed. At last all was quiet again.

'Now then! May God be with us!' They crossed themselves, and started once more. They passed through a

yard and went down the hillside to the river, crossed the river, and went along the valley.

The mist was thick, but only near the ground; overhead the stars shone quite brightly. Zh�lin directed their

course by the stars. It was cool in the mist, and easy walking, only their boots were uncomfortable, being

worn out and trodden down. Zh�lin took his off, threw them away, and went barefoot, jumping from stone to

Kost�lin went barefoot, but got on still worse. The stones cut his feet and he kept lagging behind. Zh�lin said:

'If your feet get cut, they'll heal again; but if the Tartars catch us and kill us, it will be worse!'

Their way lay through the valley for a long time. Then, to the right, they heard dogs barking. Zh�lin stopped,

'Ah!' said he, 'we have gone wrong, and have come too far to the right. Here is another Aoul, one I saw from

the hill. We must turn back and go up that hill to the left. There must be a wood there.'

But Kost�lin said: 'Wait a minute! Let me get breath. My feet are all cut and bleeding.'

'Never mind, friend! They'll heal again. You should spring more lightly. Like this!'

Kost�lin still lagged behind, and groaned. Zh�lin only said 'Hush!' and went on and on.

They went up the hill and found a wood as Zh�lin had said. They entered the wood and forced their way

through the brambles, which tore their clothes. At last they came to a path and followed it.

'Stop!' They heard the tramp of hoofs on the path, and waited, listening. It sounded like the tramping of a

horse's feet, but then ceased. They moved on, and again they heard the tramping. When they paused, it also

stopped. Zh�lin crept nearer to it, and saw something standing on the path where it was not quite so dark. It

looked like a horse, and yet not quite like one, and on it was something queer, not like a man. He heard it

snorting. 'What can it be?' Zh�lin gave a low whistle, and off it dashed from the path into the thicket, and the

woods were filled with the noise of crackling, as if a hurricane were sweeping through, breaking the

Kost�lin was so frightened that he sank to the ground. But Zh�lin laughed and said: 'It's a stag. Don't you hear

him breaking the branches with his antlers? We were afraid of him, and he is afraid of us.'

They went on. The Great Bear was already setting. It was near morning, and they did not know whether they

were going the right way or not. Zh�lin thought it was the way he had been brought by the Tartars, and that

they were still some seven miles from the Russian fort; but he had nothing certain to go by, and at night one

easily mistakes the way. After a time they came to a clearing. Kost�lin sat down and said: 'Do as you like, I

Kost�lin jumped up and followed. They went another three miles. The mist in the wood had settled down still

more densely; they could not see a yard before them, and the stars had grown dim.

Suddenly they heard the sound of a horse's hoofs in front of them. They heard its shoes strike the stones.

They ran off the path, crouched among the bushes and waited. Zh�lin crept to the road, looked, and saw a

Tartar on horseback driving a cow and humming to himself. The Tartar rode past. Zh�lin returned to Kost�lin.

He was heavy and stout, and had been perspiring freely. Chilled by the mist, and with his feet all bleeding, he

Zh�lin tried to lift him, when suddenly Kost�lin screamed out: 'Oh, how it hurts!'

'What are you shouting for? The Tartar is still near; he'll have heard you!' And he thought to himself, 'He is

really quite done up. What am I to do with him? It won't do to desert a comrade.'

'Well, then, get up, and climb up on my back. I'll carry you if you really can't walk.'

He helped Kost�lin up, and put his arms under his thighs. Then he went out on to the path, carrying him.

'Only, for the love of heaven,' said Zh�lin, 'don't throttle me with your hands! Hold on to my shoulders.'

Zh�lin found his load heavy; his feet, too, were bleeding, and he was tired out. Now and then he stooped to

balance Kost�lin better, jerking him up so that he should sit higher, and then went on again.

The Tartar must, however, really have heard Kost�lin scream. Zh�lin suddenly heard some one galloping

behind and shouting in the Tartar tongue. He darted in among the bushes. The Tartar seized his gun and fired,

but did not hit them, shouted in his own language, and galloped off along the road.

'Well, now we are lost, friend!' said Zh�lin. 'That dog will gather the Tartars together to hunt us down. Unless

we can get a couple of miles away from here we are lost!' And he thought to himself, 'Why the devil did I

saddle myself with this block? I should have got away long ago had I been alone.'

Again he took Kost�lin on his shoulders and staggered on. They went on in that way for another halfmile or

more. They were still in the forest, and could not see the end of it. But the mist was already dispersing, and

clouds seemed to be gathering, the stars were no longer to be seen. Zh�lin was quite done up. They came to a

spring walled in with stones by the side of the path. Zh�lin stopped and set Kost�lin down.

'Let me have a rest and a drink,' said he, 'and let us eat some of the cheese. It can't be much farther now.'

But hardly had he lain down to get a drink, when he heard the sound of horses' feet behind him. Again they

They heard Tartar voices. The Tartars stopped at the very spot where they had turned off the path. The

Tartars talked a bit, and then seemed to be setting a dog on the scent. There was a sound of crackling twigs,

and a strange dog appeared from behind the bushes. It stopped, and began to bark.

Then the Tartars, also strangers, came climbing down, seized Zh�lin and Kost�lin, bound them, put them on

When they had ridden about two miles, they met Abdul, their owner, with two other Tartars following him.

After talking with the strangers, he put Zh�lin and Kost�lin on two of his own horses and took them back to

They were back at the Aoul by daybreak, and were set down in the street. The children came crowding round,

The Tartars gathered together in a circle, and the old man from the foot of the hill was also there. They began

discussing, and Zh�lin heard them considering what should be done with him and Kost�lin. Some said they

ought to be sent farther into the mountains; but the old man said: 'They must be killed!'

Abdul disputed with him, saying: 'I gave money for them, and I must get ransom for them.' But the old man

said: 'They will pay you nothing, but will only bring misfortune. It is a sin to feed Russians. Kill them, and

They dispersed. When they had gone, the master came up to Zh�lin and said: 'If the money for your ransom is

not sent within a fortnight, I will flog you; and if you try to run away again, I'll kill you like a dog! Write a

Paper was brought to them, and they wrote the letters. Shackles were put on their feet, and they were taken

behind the Mosque to a deep pit about twelve feet square, into which they were let down.

Life was now very hard for them. Their shackles were never taken off, and they were not let out into the fresh

air. Unbaked dough was thrown to them as if they were dogs, and water was let down in a can.

It was wet and close in the pit, and there was a horrible stench. Kost�lin grew quite ill, his body became

swollen and he ached all over, and moaned or slept all the time. Zh�lin, too, grew downcast; he saw it was a

He tried to make a tunnel, but there was nowhere to put the earth. His master noticed it, and threatened to kill

He was sitting on the floor of the pit one day, thinking of freedom and feeling very downhearted, when

suddenly a cake fell into his lap, then another, and then a shower of cherries. He looked up, and there was

Dina. She looked at him, laughed, and ran away. And Zh�lin thought: 'Might not Dina help me?'

He cleared out a little place in the pit, scraped up some clay, and began modelling toys. He made men, horses,

But Dina did not come next day. Zh�lin heard the tramp of horses; some men rode past, and the Tartars

gathered in council near the Mosque. They shouted and argued; the word 'Russians' was repeated several

times. He could hear the voice of the old man. Though he could not distinguish what was said, he guessed

that Russian troops were somewhere near, and that the Tartars, afraid they might come into the Aoul, did not

After talking awhile, they went away. Suddenly he heard a rustling overhead, and saw Dina crouching at the

edge of the pit, her knees higher than her head, and bending over so that the coins of her plait dangled above

the pit. Her eyes gleamed like stars. She drew two cheeses out of her sleeve and threw them to him. Zh�lin

took them and said, 'Why did you not come before? I have made some toys for you. Here, catch!' And he

'I don't want any,' she said. She sat silent for awhile, and then went on, 'Ivan, they want to kill you!' And she

He clasped his hands and prayed her: 'Dina, please do! Dear Dina, I beg of you!'

'I can't!' she said, 'they would see me bringing it. They're all at home.' And she went away.

So when evening came Zh�lin still sat looking up now and then, and wondering what would happen. The stars

were there, but the moon had not yet risen. The Mullah's voice was heard; then all was silent. Zh�lin was

Suddenly he felt clay falling on his head. He looked up, and saw a long pole poking into the opposite wall of

the pit. It kept poking about for a time, and then it came down, sliding into the pit. Zh�lin was glad indeed. He

took hold of it and lowered it. It was a strong pole, one that he had seen before on the roof of his master's hut.

He looked up. The stars were shining high in the sky, and just above the pit Dina's eyes gleamed in the dark

like a cat's. She stooped with her face close to the edge of the pit, and whispered, 'Ivan! Ivan!' waving her

Then Zh�lin said, 'Well, Kost�lin, come; let us have one last try; I'll help you up.'

'No,' said he, 'It's clear I can't get away from here. How can I go, when I have hardly strength to turn round?'

'Well, goodbye, then! Don't think ill of me!' and they kissed each other. Zh�lin seized the pole, told Dina to

hold on, and began to climb. He slipped once or twice; the shackles hindered him. Kost�lin helped him, and

he managed to get to the top. Dina with her little hands, pulled with all her might at his shirt, laughing.

Zh�lin drew out the pole and said, 'Put it back in its place, Dina, or they'll notice, and you will be beaten.'

She dragged the pole away, and Zh�lin went down the hill. When he had gone down the steep incline, he took

a sharp stone and tried to wrench the lock off the shackles. But it was a strong lock and he could not manage

to break it, and besides, it was difficult to get at. Then he heard some one running down the hill, springing

She knelt down and tried to wrench the lock off, but her little hands were as slender as little twigs, and she

had not the strength. She threw the stone away and began to cry. Then Zh�lin set to work again at the lock,

Zh�lin looked round and saw a red light to the left behind the hill. The moon was just rising. 'Ah!' he thought,

'before the moon has risen I must have passed the valley and be in the forest.' So he rose and threw away the

Dina seized hold of him and felt about with her hands for a place to put some cheeses she had brought. He

'Thank you, my little one. Who will make dolls for you when I am gone?' And he stroked her head.

Dina burst into tears hiding her face in her hands. Then she ran up the hill like a young goat, the coins in her

Zh�lin crossed himself took the lock of his shackles in his hand to prevent its clattering, and went along the

road, dragging his shackled leg, and looking towards the place where the moon was about to rise. He now

knew the way. If he went straight he would have to walk nearly six miles. If only he could reach the wood

before the moon had quite risen! He crossed the river; the light behind the hill was growing whiter. Still

looking at it, he went along the valley. The moon was not yet visible. The light became brighter, and one side

of the valley was growing lighter and lighter, and shadows were drawing in towards the foot of the hill,

Zh�lin went on, keeping in the shade. He was hurrying, but the moon was moving still faster; the tops of the

hills on the right were already lit up. As he got near the wood the white moon appeared from behind the hills,

and it became light as day. One could see all the leaves on the trees. It was light on the hill, but silent, as if

nothing were alive; no sound could be heard but the gurgling of the river below.

Zh�lin reached the wood without meeting any one, chose a dark spot, and sat down to rest.

He rested and ate one of the cheeses. Then he found a stone and set to work again to knock off the shackles.

He knocked his hands sore, but could not break the lock. He rose and went along the road. After walking the

greater part of a mile he was quite done up, and his feet were aching. He had to stop every ten steps. 'There is

nothing else for it,' thought he. 'I must drag on as long as I have any strength left. If I sit down, I shan't be

able to rise again. I can't reach the fortress; but when day breaks I'll lie down in the forest, remain there all

He went on all night. Two Tartars on horseback passed him; but he heard them a long way off, and hid

The moon began to grow paler, the dew to fall. It was getting near dawn, and Zh�lin had not reached the end

of the forest. 'Well,' thought he, 'I'll walk another thirty steps, and then turn in among the trees and sit down.'

He walked another thirty steps, and saw that he was at the end of the forest. He went to the edge; it was now

quite light, and straight before him was the plain and the fortress. To the left, quite close at the foot of the

slope, a fire was dying out, and the smoke from it spread round. There were men gathered about the fire.

Zh�lin was filled with joy. He collected his remaining strength and set off down the hill, saying to himself:

'God forbid that any mounted Tartar should see me now, in the open field! Near as I am, I could not get there

Hardly had he said this when, a couple of hundred yards off, on a hillock to the left, he saw three Tartars.

They saw him also and made a rush. His heart sank. He waved his hands, and shouted with all his might,

The Cossacks heard him, and a party of them on horseback darted to cut across the Tartars' path. The

Cossacks were far and the Tartars were near; but Zh�lin, too, made a last effort. Lifting the shackles with his

hand, he ran towards the Cossacks, hardly knowing what he was doing, crossing himself and shouting,

There were some fifteen Cossacks. The Tartars were frightened, and stopped before reaching him. Zhilin

They surrounded him and began questioning him. 'Who are you? What are you? Where from?

But Zh�lin was quite beside himself, and could only weep and repeat, 'Brothers! Brothers!'

Then the soldiers came running up and crowded round Zh�lin one giving him bread, another buckwheat, a

The officers recognized him, and rode with him to the fortress. The soldiers were glad to see him back, and

'That's the way I went home and got married!' said he. 'No. It seems plain that fate was against it!'

So he went on serving in the Caucasus. A month passed before Kost�lin was released, after paying five

[The adventure here narrated is one that happened to Tolstoy himself in 1858. More than twenty years later

WE were out on a bearhunting expedition. My comrade had shot at a bear, but only gave him a

We all collected in a group in the forest, to decide whether we ought to go after the bear at once, or wait two

or three days till he should settle down again. We asked the peasant beardrivers whether it would be

'No. It's impossible,' said an old beardriver. 'You must let the bear quiet down. In five days' time it will be

possible to surround him; but if you followed him now, you would only frighten him away, and he would not

But a young beardriver began disputing with the old man, saying that it was quite possible to get round the

'On such snow as this,' said he, 'he won't go far, for he is a fat bear. He will settle down before evening; or, if

The comrade I was with was against following up the bear, and advised waiting. But I said:

'We need not argue. You do as you like, but I will follow up the track with Damian. If we get round the bear,

all right. If not, we lose nothing. It is still early, and there is nothing else for us to do today.'

The others went back to the sledges, and returned to the village. Damian and I took some bread, and remained

When they had all left us, Damian and I examined our guns, and after tucking the skirts of our warm coats

The weather was fine, frosty and calm; but it was hard work snowshoeing. The snow was deep and soft: it

had not caked together at all in the forest, and fresh snow had fallen the day before, so that our snowshoes

The bear's tracks were visible from a distance, and we could see how he had been going; sometimes sinking

in up to his belly and ploughing up the snow as he went. At first, while under large trees, we kept in sight of

'We must leave the trail now,' said he. 'He has probably settled somewhere here. You can see by the snow that

he has been squatting down. Let us leave the track and go round; but we must go quietly. Don't shout or

Leaving the track, therefore, we turned off to the left. But when we had gone about five hundred yards, there

were the bear's traces again right before us. We followed them, and they brought us out on to the road. There

we stopped, examining the road to see which way the bear had gone. Here and there in the snow were prints

of the bear's paw, claws and all, and here and there the marks of a peasant's bark shoes. The bear had

'It's no use watching the road now. We shall see where he has turned off, to right or left, by the marks in the

soft snow at the side. He must have turned off somewhere; for he won't have gone on to the village.'

We went along the road for nearly a mile, and then saw, ahead of us, the bear's track turning off the road. We

examined it. How strange! It was a bear's track right enough, only not going from the road into the forest, but

'No,' said he. 'It's the same one. He's been playing tricks, and walked backwards when he left the road.'

We followed the track, and found it really was so! The bear had gone some ten steps backwards, and then,

behind a fir tree, had turned round and gone straight ahead. Damian stopped and said:

'Now, we are sure to get round him. There is a marsh ahead of us, and he must have settled down there. Let

We began to make our way round, through a fir thicket. I was tired out by this time, and it had become still

more difficult to get along. Now I glided on to juniper bushes and caught my snowshoes in them, now a tiny

fir tree appeared between my feet, or, from want of practise, my snowshoes slipped off; and now I came

upon a stump or a log hidden by the snow. I was getting very tired, and was drenched with perspiration; and I

took off my fur cloak. And there was Damian all the time, gliding along as if in a boat, his snowshoes moving

as if of their own accord, never catching against anything, nor slipping off. He even took my fur and slung it

We went on for two more miles, and came out on the other side of the marsh. I was lagging behind. My

snowshoes kept slipping off, and my feet stumbled. Suddenly Damian, who was ahead of me, stopped and

waved his arm. When I came up to him, he bent down, pointing with his hand, and whispered:

'Do you see the magpie chattering above that undergrowth? It scents the bear from afar. That is where he

We turned off and went on for more than another halfmile, and presently we came on to the old track again.

We had, therefore, been right round the bear who was now within the track we had left. We stopped, and I

took off my cap and loosened all my clothes. I was as hot as in a steam bath, and as wet as a drowned rat.

The evening glow already showed red through the forest. We took off our snowshoes and sat down on them,

and got some bread and salt out of our bags. First I ate some snow, and then some bread; and the bread tasted

so good, that I thought I had never in my life had any like it before. We sat there resting until it began to grow

'Yes,' he said. 'It must be about eight miles. We will go on there tonight, but now we must rest. Put on your

Damian flattened down the snow, and breaking off some fir branches made a bed of them. We lay down side

by side, resting our heads on our arms. I do not remember how I fell asleep. Two hours later I woke up,

I had slept so soundly that I did not know where I was. I looked around me. How wonderful! I was in some

sort of a hall, all glittering and white with gleaming pillars, and when I looked up I saw, through delicate

white tracery, a vault, raven black and studded with coloured lights. After a good look, I remembered that we

were in the forest, and that what I took for a hall and pillars, were trees covered with snow and hoarfrost,

Hoarfrost had settled in the night; all the twigs were thick with it, Damian was covered with it, it was on my

fur coat, and it dropped down from the trees. I woke Damian, and we put on our snowshoes and started. It

was very quiet in the forest. No sound was heard but that of our snowshoes pushing through the soft snow;

except when now and then a tree, cracked by the frost, made the forest resound. Only once we heard the

sound of a living creature. Something rustled close to us, and then rushed away. I felt sure it was the bear, but

when we went to the spot whence the sound had come, we found the footmarks of hares, and saw several

young aspen trees with their bark gnawed. We had startled some hares while they were feeding.

We came out on the road, and followed it, dragging our snowshoes behind us. It was easy walking now. Our

snowshoes clattered as they slid behind us from side to side of the hardtrodden road. The snow creaked

under our boots, and the cold hoarfrost settled on our faces like down. Seen through the branches, the stars

seemed to be running to meet us, now twinkling, now vanishing, as if the whole sky were on the move.

I found my comrade sleeping, but woke him up, and related how we had got round the bear. After telling our

peasant host to collect beaters for the morning, we had supper and lay down to sleep.

I was so tired that I could have slept on till midday, if my comrade had not roused me. I jumped up, and saw

'In the forest, long ago. He has already been over the tracks you made, and been back here, and now he has

I washed and dressed, and loaded my guns; and then we got into a sledge, and started.

The sharp frost still continued. It was quiet, and the sun could not be seen. There was a thick mist above us,

After driving about two miles along the road, as we came near the forest, we saw a cloud of smoke rising

from a hollow, and presently reached a group of peasants, both men and women, armed with cudgels.

We got out and went up to them. The men sat roasting potatoes, and laughing and talking with the women.

Damian was there too; and when we arrived the people got up, and Damian led them away to place them in

the circle we had made the day before. They went along in single file, men and women, thirty in all. The

snow was so deep that we could only see them from their waists upwards. They turned into the forest, and my

Though they had trodden a path, walking was difficult, but, on the other hand, it was impossible to fall: it was

We went on in this way for nearly half a mile, when all at once we saw Damian coming from another

direction running towards us on his snowshoes, and beckoning us to join him. We went towards him, and

To my left were tall fir trees, between the trunks of which I could see a good way, and, like a black patch just

visible behind the trees, I could see a beater. In front of me was a thicket of young firs, about as high as a

man, their branches weighed down and stuck together with snow. Through this copse ran a path thickly

covered with snow, and leading straight up to where I stood. The thicket stretched away to the right of me,

I examined both my guns, and considered where I had better stand. Three steps behind me was a tall fir.

'That's where I'll stand,' thought I, 'and then I can lean my second gun against the tree'; and I moved towards

the tree, sinking up to my knees in the snow at each step. I trod the snow down, and made a clearance about a

yard square, to stand on. One gun I kept in my hand; the other, ready cocked, I placed leaning up against the

tree. Then I unsheathed and replaced my dagger, to make sure that I could draw it easily in case of need.

Just as I had finished these preparations, I heard Damian shouting in the forest:

And as soon as Damian shouted, the peasants round the circle all replied in their different voices.

The bear was inside the circle, and as Damian drove him on, the people all round kept shouting. Only my

friend and I stood silent and motionless, waiting for the bear to come towards us. As I stood gazing and

'Now now,' I thought. 'He will come suddenly. I shall aim, fire, and he will drop '

Suddenly, to my left, but at a distance, I heard something falling on the snow. I looked between the tall fir

trees, and, some fifty paces off, behind the trunks, saw something big and black. I took aim and waited,

As I waited I saw him move his ears, turn, and go back; and then I caught a glimpse of the whole of him in

profile. He was an immense brute. In my excitement, I fired, and heard my bullet go 'flop' against a tree.

Peering through the smoke, I saw my bear scampering back into the circle, and disappearing among the trees.

'Well,' thought I. 'My chance is lost. He won't come back to me. Either my comrade will shoot him, or he will

escape through the line of beaters. In any case he won't give me another chance.'

I reloaded my gun, however, and again stood listening. The peasants were shouting all round, but to the right,

not far from where my comrade stood, I heard a woman screaming in a frenzied voice: 'Here he is! Here he

Evidently she could see the bear. I had given up expecting him, and was looking to the right at my comrade.

All at once I saw Damian with a stick in his hand, and without his snowshoes, running along a footpath

towards my friend. He crouched down beside him, pointing his stick as if aiming at something, and then I

But I saw that my comrade did not run towards the bear. Evidently he had missed him, or the shot had not

'The bear will get away,' I thought. 'He will go back, but he won't come a second time towards me. But

Something was coming towards me like a whirlwind, snorting as it came; and I saw the snow flying up quite

near me. I glanced straight before me, and there was the bear, rushing along the path through the thicket right

at me, evidently beside himself with fear. He was hardly half a dozen paces off, and I could see the whole of

him his black chest and enormous head with a reddish patch. There he was, blundering straight at me, and

scattering the snow about as he came. I could see by his eyes that he did not see me, but, mad with fear, was

rushing blindly along; and his path led him straight at the tree under which I was standing. I raised my gun

and fired. He was almost upon me now, and I saw that I had missed. My bullet had gone past him, and he did

not even hear me fire, but still came headlong towards me. I lowered my gun, and fired again, almost

I snatched at my other gun, but almost before I had touched it, he had down at me and, knocking me over into

I tried to rise, but something pressed me down, and prevented my getting up. The bear's rush had carried him

past me, but he had turned back, and had fallen on me with the whole weight of his body. I felt something

heavy weighing me down, and something warm above my face, and I realized that he was drawing my whole

face into his mouth. My nose was already in it, and I felt the heat of it, and smelt his blood. He was pressing

my shoulders down with his paws so that I could not move: all I could do was to draw my head down towards

my chest away from his mouth, trying to free my nose and eyes, while he tried to get his teeth into them.

Then I felt that he had seized my forehead just under the hair with the teeth of his lower jaw, and the flesh

below my eyes with his upper jaw, and was closing his teeth. It was as if my face were being cut with knives.

I struggled to get away, while he made haste to close his jaws like a dog gnawing. I managed to twist my face

Then I felt the weight lifted, and looking up, I saw that he was no longer there. He had jumped off me and run

When my comrade and Damian had seen the bear knock me down and begin worrying me, they rushed to the

rescue. My comrade, in his haste, blundered, and instead of following the trodden path, ran into the deep

snow and fell down. While he was struggling out of the snow, the bear was gnawing at me. But Damian just

as he was, without a gun, and with only a stick in his hand, rushed along the path shouting:

The bear obeyed him, and leaving me ran away. When I rose, there was as much blood on the snow as if a

sheep had been killed, and the flesh hung in rags above my eyes, though in my excitement I felt no pain.

My comrade had come up by this time, and the other people collected round: they looked at my wound, and

And we saw the bear again running at us. We seized our guns, but before any one had time to fire he had run

past. He had grown ferocious, and wanted to gnaw me again, but seeing so many people he took fright. We

saw by his track that his head was bleeding and we wanted to follow him up; but, as my wounds had become

A month later we went to hunt that bear again, but I did not get a chance of finishing him. He would not come

Damian killed him. The bear's lower jaw had been broken, and one of his teeth knocked out by my bullet.

I had him stuffed, and he now lies in my room. The wounds on my forehead healed up so that the scars can

'We know that we have passed out of death into life, because we love the brethren. He that loveth not abideth

'Whoso hath the world's goods, and beholdeth his brother in need, and shutteth up his compassion from him,

how doth the love of God abide in him? My little children, let us not love in word, neither with the tongue;

'Love is of God; and every one that loveth is begotten of God, and knoweth God. He that loveth not knoweth

'No man hath beheld God at any time; if we love one another, God abideth in us.' iv. 12.

'God is love; and he that abideth in love abideth in God, and God abideth in him.' iv. 16.

'If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar; for he that loveth not his brother whom he hath

A SHOEMAKER named Simon, who had neither house nor land of his own, lived with his wife and children

in a peasant's hut, and earned his living by his work. Work was cheap but bread was dear, and what he earned

he spent for food. The man and his wife had but one sheepskin coat between them for winter wear, and even

that was worn to tatters, and this was the second year he had been wanting to buy sheepskins for a new coat.

Before winter Simon saved up a little money: a threerouble note lay hidden in his wife's box, and five

So one morning he prepared to go to the village to buy the sheepskins. He put on over his shirt his wife's

wadded nankeen jacket, and over that he put his own cloth coat. He took the threerouble note in his pocket,

cut himself a stick to serve as a staff, and started off after breakfast. 'I'll collect the five roubles that are due to

me,' thought he, 'add the three I have got, and that will be enough to buy sheepskins for the winter coat.'

He came to the village and called at a peasant's hut, but the man was not at home. The peasant's wife

promised that the money should be paid next week, but she would not pay it herself. Then Simon called on

another peasant, but this one swore he had no money, and would only pay twenty kopeks which he owed for

a pair of boots Simon had mended. Simon then tried to buy the sheepskins on credit, but the deader would

'Bring your money,' said he, 'then you may have your pick of the skins. We know what debtcollecting is

So all the business the shoemaker did was to get the twenty kopeks for boots he had mended, and to take a

Simon felt downhearted. He spent the twenty kopeks on vdka, and started homewards without having bought

any skins. In the morning he had felt the frost; but now, after drinking the vdka, he felt warm even without a

sheepskin coat. He trudged along, striking his stick on the frozen earth with one hand, swinging the felt

'I'm quite warm,' said he, 'though I have no sheepskin coat. I've had a drop, and it runs through all my veins. I

need no sheepskins. I go along and don't worry about anything. That's the sort of man I am! What do I care? I

can live without sheep skins. I don't need them. My wife will fret, to be sure. And, true enough, it's a shame;

one works all day long, and then does not get paid. Stop a bit! If you don't bring that money along, sure

enough I'll skin you, blessed if I don't. How's that? He pays twenty kopeks at a time! What can I do with

twenty kopeks: Drink it that's all one can do! Hard up, he says he is! So he may be but what about me?

You have house, and cattle, and everything; I've only what I stand up in! You have corn of your own

growing; I have to buy every grain. Do what I will, I must spend three roubles every week for bread alone. I

come home and find the bread all used up, and I have to fork out another rouble and a half. So just you pay

By this time he had nearly reached the shrine at the bend of the road. Looking up, he saw something whitish

behind the shrine. The daylight was fading, and the shoemaker peered at the thing without being able to make

out what it was. 'There was no white stone here before. Can it be an ox? It's not like an ox. It has a head like a

He came closer, so that it was clearly visible. To his surprise it really was a man, alive or dead, sitting naked,

leaning motionless against the shrine. Terror seized the shoemaker, and he thought, 'Some one has killed him,

So the shoemaker went on. He passed in front of the shrine so that he could not see the man. When he had

gone some way, he looked back, and saw that the man was no longer leaning against the shrine, but was

moving as if looking towards him. The shoemaker felt more frightened than before, and thought, 'Shall I go

back to him, or shall I go on? If I go near him something dreadful may happen. Who knows who the fellow

is? He has not come here for any good. If I go near him he may jump up and throttle me, and there will be no

getting away. Or if not, he'd still be a burden on one's hands. What could I do with a naked man? I couldn't

So the shoemaker hurried on, leaving the shrine behind him when suddenly his conscience smote him and

'What are you doing, Simon?' said he to himself. 'The man may be dying of want, and you slip past afraid.

Simon approached the stranger, looked at him, and saw that he was a young man, fit, with no bruises on his

body, only evidently freezing and frightened, and he sat there leaning back without looking up at Simon, as if

too faint to lift his eyes. Simon went close to him, and then the man seemed to wake up. Turning his head, he

opened his eyes and looked into Simon's face. That one look was enough to make Simon fond of the man. He

threw the felt boots on the ground undid his sash, laid it on the boots, and took off his cloth coat.

'It's not a time for talking,' said he. 'Come, put this coat on at once!' And Simon took the man by the elbows

and helped him to rise. As he stood there, Simon saw that his body was clean and in good condition, his

hands and feet shapely, and his face good and kind. He threw his coat over the man's shoulders but the latter

could not find the sleeves. Simon guided his arms into them, and drawing the coat well on trapped it closely

Simon even took off his torn cap to put it on the man's head, but then his own head felt cold, and he thought:

'I'm quite bald, while he has long curly hair.' So he put his cap on his own head again. 'It will be better to give

him something for his feet,' thought he; and he made the man sit down, and helped him to put on the felt

boots, saying, 'There, friend, now move about and warm yourself. Other matters can be settled later on. Can

'Why don't you speak?' said Simon. 'It's too cold to stay here; we must be getting home. There now, take my

'I thought as much. I know the folks hereabouts. But how did you come to be there by the shrine?'

'Of course God rules all. Still, you'll have to find food and shelter somewhere. Where do you want to go to?'

Simon was amazed. The man did not look like a rogue, and he spoke gently, but yet he gave no account of

himself. Still Simon thought, 'Who knows what may have happened?' And he said to the stranger: 'Well then,

So Simon walked towards his home, and the stranger kept up with him, walking at his side. The wind had

risen and Simon felt it cold under his shirt. He was getting over his tipsiness by now, and began to feel the

frost. He went along sniffling and wrapping his wife's coat round him, and he thought to himself: 'There now

talk about sheepskins! I went out for sheepskins and come home without even a coat to my back and what

is more, I'm bringing a naked man along with me. Matryna won't be pleased!' And when he thought of his

wife he felt sad; but when he looked at the stranger and remembered how he had looked up at him at the

Simon's wife had everything ready early that day. She had cut wood, brought water, fed the children eaten her

own meal, and now she sat thinking. She wondered when she ought to make bread: now or tomorrow?

'If Simon has had some dinner in town,' thought she, and does not eat much for supper, the bread will last out

She weighed the piece of bread in her hand again and again, and thought: 'I won't make any more today. We

have only enough flour left to bake one batch. We can manage to make this last out till Friday.'

So Matryna put away the bread, and sat down at the table to patch her husband's shirt. While she worked she

'If only the dealer does not cheat him. My good man is much too simple; he cheats nobody, but any child can

take him in. Eight roubles is a lot of money he should get a good coat at that price. Not tanned skins, but

still a proper winter coat. How difficult it was last winter to get on without a warm coat. I could neither get

down to the river, nor go out anywhere. When he went out he put on all we had, and there was nothing left

for me. He did not start very early today, but still it's time he was back. I only hope he has not gone on the

Hardly had Matryna thought this, when steps were heard on the threshold, and some one entered. Matryna

stuck her needle into her work and went out into the passage. There she saw two men: Simon, and with him a

Matryna noticed at once that her husband smelt of spirits. 'There now, he has been drinking,' thought she.

And when she saw that he was coatless, had only her jacket on, brought no parcel, stood there silent, and

seemed ashamed, her heart was ready to break with disappointment. 'He has drunk the money,' thought she,

'and has been on the spree with some goodfornothing fellow whom he has brought home with him.'

Matryna let them pass into the hut, followed them in, and saw that the stranger was a young, slight man,

wearing her husband's coat. There was no shirt to be seen under it, and he had no hat. Having entered, he

stood neither moving, nor raising his eyes, and Matryna thought: 'He must be a bad man he's afraid.'

Matryna muttered something to herself and did not move, but stayed where she was, by the oven. She looked

first at the one and then at the other of them, and only shook her head. Simon saw that his wife was annoyed,

but tried to pass it off. Pretending not to notice anything, he took the stranger by the arm.

Matryna's anger boiled over. 'I've cooked, but not for you. It seems to me you have drunk your wits away.

You went to buy a sheepskin coat, but come home without so much as the coat you had on, and bring a

'That's enough, Matryna. Don't wag your tongue without reason! You had better ask what sort of man '

Simon found the pocket of the jacket, drew out the threerouble note, and unfolded it.

Matryna got still more angry; he had bought no sheepskins, but had put his only coat on some naked fellow

She snatched up the note from the table, took it to put away in safety, and said: 'I have no supper for you. We

'Much wisdom I shall hear from a drunken fool. I was right in not wanting to marry you a drunkard. The

linen my mother gave me you drank; and now you've been to buy a coat and have drunk it too!'

Simon tried to explain to his wife that he had only spent twenty kopeks; tried to tell how he had found the

man but Matryna would not let him get a word in. She talked nineteen to the dozen, and dragged in things

Matryna talked and talked, and at last she flew at Simon and seized him by the sleeve.

'Give me my jacket. It is the only one I have and you must needs take it from me and wear it yourself. Give it

Simon began to pull off the jacket, and turned a sleeve of it inside out; Matryna seized the jacket and it burst

its seams. She snatched it up, threw it over her head and went to the door. She meant to go out, but stopped

undecided she wanted to work off her anger, but she also wanted to learn what sort of a man the stranger

Matryna stopped and said: 'If he were a good man he would not be naked. Why, he hasn't even a shirt on him.

'That's just what I am trying to tell you,' said Simon. 'As I came to the shrine I saw him sitting all naked and

frozen. It isn't quite the weather to sit about naked! God sent me to him, or he would have perished. What was

I to do? How do we know what may have happened to him? So I took him, clothed him, and brought him

along. Don't be so angry, Matryna. It is a sin. Remember, we all must die one day.'

Angry words rose to Matryna's lips, but she looked at the stranger and was silent. He sat on the edge of the

bench, motionless, his hands folded on his knees, his head drooping on his breast, his eyes closed, and his

brows knit as if in pain. Matryna was silent, and Simon said: 'Matryna, have you no love of God?'

Matryna heard these words, and as she looked at the stranger, suddenly her heart softened towards him. She

came back from the door, and going to the oven she got out the supper. Setting a cup on the table, she poured

out some kvas[7]. Then she brought out the last piece of bread, and set out a knife and spoons.

Simon cut the bread, crumbled it into the broth, and they began to eat. Matryna sat at the corner of the table,

And Matryna was touched with pity for the stranger, and began to feel fond of him. And at once the stranger's

face lit up; his brows were no longer bent, he raised his eyes and smiled at Matryna.

When they had finished supper, the woman cleared away the things and began questioning the stranger.

'Yes, naked and freezing. Simon saw me and had pity on me. He took off his coat, put it on me and brought

me here. And you have fed me, given me drink, and shown pity on me. God will reward you!'

Matryna rose, took from the window Simon's old shirt she had been patching, and gave it to the stranger. She

'There,' said she, 'I see you have no shirt. Put this on, and lie down where you please, in the loft or on the

The stranger took off the coat, put on the shirt, and lay down in the loft. Matryna put out the candle, took the

Matryna drew the skirts of the coat over her and lay down, but could not sleep; she could not get the stranger

When she remembered that he had eaten their last piece of bread and that there was none for tomorrow and

thought of the shirt and trousers she had given away, she felt grieved; but when she remembered how he had

Long did Matryna lie awake, and she noticed that Simon also was awake he drew the coat towards him.

'You have had the last of the bread, and I have not put any to rise. I don't know what we shall do tomorrow.

The woman lay still awhile, and then said, 'He seems a good man, but why does he not tell us who he is?'

Simon did not know what to say; so he only said, 'Let us stop talking,' and turned over and went to sleep.

In the morning Simon awoke. The children were still asleep; his wife had gone to the neighbour's to borrow

some bread. The stranger alone was sitting on the bench, dressed in the old shirt and trousers, and looking

Simon said to him, 'Well, friend; the belly wants bread and the naked body clothes. One has to work for a

'Well Michael, if you don't wish to talk about yourself that is your own affair; but you'll have to earn a living

for yourself. If you will work as I tell you, I will give you food and shelter.'

Michael watched him, put some yarn round his own thumb in the same way, caught the knack, and twisted

Then Simon showed him how to wax the thread. This also Michael mastered. Next Simon showed him how

to twist the bristle in, and how to sew, and this, too, Michael learned at once.

Whatever Simon showed him he understood at once, and after three days he worked as if he had sewn boots

all his life. He worked without stopping, and ate little. When work was over he sat silently, looking upwards.

He hardly went into the street, spoke only when necessary, and neither joked nor laughed. They never saw

Day by day and week by week the year went round. Michael lived and worked with Simon. His fame spread

till people said that no one sewed boots so neatly and strongly as Simon's workman, Michael; and from all the

district round people came to Simon for their boots, and he began to be well off.

One winter day, as Simon and Michael sat working a carriage on sledgerunners, with three horses and with

bells, drove up to the hut. They looked out of the window; the carriage stopped at their door, a fine servant

jumped down from the box and opened the door. A gentleman in a fur coat got out and walked up to Simon's

hut. Up jumped Matryna and opened the door wide. The gentleman stooped to enter the hut, and when he

drew himself up again his head nearly reached the ceiling, and he seemed quite to fill his end of the room.

Simon rose, bowed, and looked at the gentleman with astonishment. He had never seen any one like him.

Simon himself was lean, Michael was thin, and Matryna was dry as a bone, but this man was like some one

from another world: redfaced, burly, with a neck like a bull's, and looking altogether as if he were cast in

The gentleman puffed, threw off his fur coat, sat down on the bench, and said, 'Which of you is the master

The servant ran in, bringing a parcel. The gentleman took the parcel and put it on the table.

'Good, indeed! Why, you fool, you never saw such leather before in your life. It's German, and cost twenty

Then the gentleman shouted at him: 'You can, can you? Well, remember whom you are to make them for, and

what the leather is. You must make me boots that will wear for a year, neither losing shape nor coming

unsewn. If you can do it, take the leather and cut it up; but if you can't, say so. I warn you now, if your boots

come unsewn or lose shape within a year, I will have you put in prison. If they don't burst or lose shape for a

Simon was frightened, and did not know what to say. He glanced at Michael and nudging him with his elbow,

Simon did as Michael advised, and undertook to make boots that would not lose shape or split for a whole

Calling his servant, the gentleman told him to pull the boot off his left leg, which he stretched out.

Simon stitched a paper measure seventeen inches long, smoothed it out, knelt down, wiped his hands well on

his apron so as not to soil the gentleman's sock, and began to measure. He measured the sole, and round the

instep, and began to measure the calf of the leg, but the paper was too short. The calf of the leg was as thick

Simon stitched on another strip of paper. The gentleman twitched his toes about in his sock, looking round at

'Mind,' said the gentleman to Michael, 'remember to make them so that they will last me a year.'

Simon also looked at Michael, and saw that Michael was not looking at the gentleman, but was gazing into

the corner behind the gentleman, as if he saw some one there. Michael looked and looked, and suddenly he

'What are you grinning at, you fool?' thundered the gentleman. 'You had better look to it that the boots are

'Mind it is so,' said the gentleman, and he put on his boots and his fur coat, wrapped the latter round him, and

went to the door. But he forgot to stoop and struck his head against the lintel.

He swore and rubbed his head. Then he took his seat in the carriage and drove away.

When he had gone, Simon said: 'There's a figure of a man for you! You could not kill him with a mallet. He

And Matryna said: 'Living as he does, how should he not grow strong? Death itself can't touch such a rock as

Then Simon said to Michael: 'Well, we have taken the work, but we must see we don't get into trouble over it.

The leather is dear, and the gentleman hottempered. We must make no mistakes. Come, your eye is truer

and your hands have become nimbler than mine, so you take this measure and cut out the boots. I will finish

Michael did as he was told. He took the leather spread it out on the table, folded it in two, took a knife and

Matryna came and watched him cutting, and was surprised to see how he was doing it. Matryna was

accustomed to seeing boots made, and she looked and saw that Michael was not cutting the leather for boots,

She wished to say something, but she thought to herself: 'Perhaps I do not understand how gentlemen's boots

When Michael had cut up the leather, he took a thread and began to sew not with two ends, as boots are sewn,

Again Matryna wondered, but again she did not interfere. Michael sewed on steadily till noon. Then Simon

rose for dinner, looked around, and saw that Michael had made slippers out of the gentleman's leather.

'Ah!' groaned Simon, and he thought, 'How is it that Michael, who has been with me a whole year and never

made a mistake before, should do such a dreadful thing? The gentleman ordered high boots, welted, with

whole fronts, and Michael has made soft slippers with single soles, and has wasted the leather. What am I to

And he said to Michael, 'What are you doing friend? You have ruined me! You know the gentleman ordered

Hardly had he begun to rebuke Michael, when 'rattat , went the iron ring that hung at the door. Some one

was knocking. They looked out of the window; a man had come on horseback, and was fastening his horse.

'He did not live to get home after leaving you, but died in the carriage. When we reached home and the

servants came to help him alight he rolled over like a sack. He was dead already, and so stiff that he could

hardly be got out of the carriage. My mistress sent me here, saying: "Tell the bootmaker that the gentleman

who ordered boots of him and left the leather for them no longer needs the boots, but that he must quickly

make soft slippers for the corpse. Wait till they are ready, and bring them back with you." That is why I have

Michael gathered up the remnants of the leather; rolled them up, took the soft slippers he had made, slapped

them together, wiped them down with his apron, and handed them and the roll of leather to the servant, who

Another year passed, and another, and Michael was now living his sixth year with Simon. He lived as before.

He went nowhere, only spoke when necessary, and had only smiled twice in all those years once when

Matryna gave him food, and a second time when the gentleman was in their hut. Simon was more than

pleased with his workman. He never now asked him where he came from, and only feared lest Michael

They were all at home one day. Matryna was putting iron pots in the oven, the children were running along

the benches and looking out of the window; Simon was sewing at one window, and Michael was fastening on

One of the boys ran along the bench to Michael, leant on his shoulder, and looked out of the window.

'Look, Uncle Michael! There is a lady with little girls! She seems to be coming here. And one of the girls is

When the boy said that, Michael dropped his work, turned to the window, and looked out into the street.

Simon was surprised. Michael never used to look out into the street, but now he pressed against the window,

staring at something. Simon also looked out, and saw that a welldressed woman was really coming to his

hut, leading by the hand two little girls in fur coats and woollen shawls. The girls could hardly be told one

from the other, except that one of them was crippled in her left leg and walked with a limp.

The woman stepped into the porch and entered the passage. Feeling about for the entrance she found the

latch, which she lifted, and opened the door. She let the two girls go in first, and followed them into the hut.

The woman sat down by the table. The two little girls pressed close to her knees, afraid of the people in the

'We can do that. We never have made such small shoes, but we can make them; either welted or turnover

Simon glanced at Michael and saw that he had left his work and was sitting with his eyes fixed on the little

girls. Simon was surprised. It was true the girls were pretty, with black eyes, plump, and rosycheeked, and

they wore nice kerchiefs and fur coats, but still Simon could not understand why Michael should look at them

like that just as if he had known them before. He was puzzled, but went on talking with the woman, and

arranging the price. Having fixed it, he prepared the measure. The woman lifted the lame girl on to her lap

and said: 'Take two measures from this little girl. Make one shoe for the lame foot and three for the sound

Simon took the measure and, speaking of the lame girl, said: 'How did it happen to her? She is such a pretty

Then Matryna joined in. She wondered who this woman was, and whose the children were, so she said: 'Are

'No, my good woman, I am neither their mother nor any relation to them. They were quite strangers to me,

'How can I help being fond of them? I fed them both at my own breasts. I had a child of my own, but God

'It is about six years since their parents died, both in one week: their father was buried on the Tuesday, and

their mother died on the Friday. These orphans were born three days after their father's death, and their

mother did not live another day. My husband and I were then living as peasants in the village. We were

neighbours of theirs, our yard being next to theirs. Their father was a lonely man; a woodcutter in the forest.

When felling trees one day, they let one fall on him. It fell across his body and crushed his bowels out. They

hardly got him home before his soul went to God; and that same week his wife gave birth to twins these

little girls. She was poor and alone; she had no one, young or old, with her. Alone she gave them birth, and

'The next morning I went to see her, but when I entered the hut, she, poor thing, was already stark and cold.

In dying she had rolled on to this child and crushed her leg. The village folk came to the hut washed the body,

laid her out, made a coffin, and buried her. They were good folk. The babies were left alone. What was to be

done with them? I was the only woman there who had a baby at the time. I was nursing my firstborn

eight weeks old. So I took them for a time. The peasants came together, and thought and thought what to do

with them, and at last they said to me: "For the present, Mary, you had better keep the girls, and later on we

will arrange what to do for them." So I nursed the sound one at my breast, but at first I did not feed this

crippled one. I did not suppose she would live. But then I thought to myself, why should the poor innocent

suffer? I pitied her, and began to feed her. And so I fed my own boy and these two the three of them at

my own breast. I was young and strong, and had good food, and God gave me so much milk that at times it

even overflowed. I used sometimes to feed two at a time, while the third was waiting. When one had had

enough I nursed the third. And God so ordered it that these grew up, while my own was buried before he was

two years old. And I had no more children, though we prospered. Now my husband is working for the corn

merchant at the mill. The pay is good and we are well off. But I have no children of my own, and how lonely

I should be without these little girls! How can I help loving them! They are the joy of my life!'

She pressed the lame little girl to her with one hand while with the other she wiped the tears from her cheeks.

And Matryna sighed, and said: 'The proverb is true that says, "One may live without father or mother, but one

So they talked together, when suddenly the whole hut was lighted up as though by summer lightning from the

corner where Michael sat. They all looked towards him and saw him sitting, his hands folded on his knees,

The woman went away with the girls. Michael rose from the bench, put down his work, and took off his

apron. Then, bowing low to Simon and his wife, he said: 'Farewell, masters. God has forgiven me. I ask your

And they saw that a light shone from Michael. And Simon rose, bowed down to Michael, and said: 'I see,

Michael, that you are no common man, and I can neither keep you nor question you. Only tell me this: how is

it that when I found you and brought you home, you were gloomy, and when my wife gave you food you

smiled at her and became brighter? Then when the gentleman came to order the boots, you smiled again and

became brighter still? And now, when this woman brought the little girls, you smiled a third time, and have

become as bright as day? Tell me, Michael, why does your face shine so, and why did you smile those three

And Michael answered: 'Light shines from me because I have been punished, but now God has pardoned me.

And I smiled three times, because God sent me to learn three truths, and I have learnt them. One I learnt

when your wife pitied me and that is why I smiled the first time. The second I learnt when the rich man

ordered the boots and then I smiled again. And now, when I saw those little girls, I learnt the third and last

And Simon said, 'Tell me, Michael, what did God punish you for? and what were the three truths? that I, too,

And Michael answered: 'God punished me for disobeying Him. I was an angel in heaven and disobeyed God.

God sent me to fetch a woman's soul. I flew to earth, and saw a sick woman lying alone, who had just given

birth to twin girls. They moved feebly at their mother's side, but she could not lift them to her breast. When

she saw me, she understood that God had sent me for her soul, and she wept and said: "Angel of God! My

husband has just been buried, killed by a falling tree. I have neither sister, nor aunt, nor mother: no one to

care for my orphans. Do not take my soul! Let me nurse my babes, feed them, and set them on their feet

before I die. Children cannot live without father or mother." And I hearkened to her. I placed one child at her

breast and gave the other into her arms, and returned to the Lord in heaven. I flew to the Lord, and said: "I

could not take the soul of the mother. Her husband was killed by a tree; the woman has twins, and prays that

her soul may not be taken. She says: 'Let me nurse and feed my children, and set them on their feet. Children

cannot live without father or mother.' I have not taken her soul." And God said: "Go take the mother's

soul, and learn three truths: Learn What dwells in man, What is not given to man, and What men live by.

When thou hast learnt these things, thou shalt return to heaven." So I flew again to earth and took the

mother's soul. The babes dropped from her breasts. Her body rolled over on the bed and crushed one babe,

twisting its leg. I rose above the village, wishing to take her soul to God; but a wind seized me, and my wings

drooped and dropped off. Her soul rose alone to God, while I fell to earth by the roadside.'

And Simon and Matryna understood who it was that had lived with them, and whom they had clothed and

fed. And they wept with awe and with joy. And the angel said: 'I was alone in the field, naked. I had never

known human needs, cold and hunger, till I became a man. I was famished, frozen, and did not know what to

do. I saw, near the field I was in, a shrine built for God, and I went to it hoping to find shelter. But the shrine

was locked, and I could not enter. So I sat down behind the shrine to shelter myself at least from the wind.

Evening drew on. I was hungry, frozen, and in pain. Suddenly I heard a man coming along the road. He

carried a pair of boots, and was talking to himself. For the first time since I became a man I saw the mortal

face of a man, and his face seemed terrible to me and I turned from it. And I heard the man talking to himself

of how to cover his body from the cold in winter, and how to feed wife and children. And I thought: "I am

perishing of cold and hunger, and here is a man thinking only of how to clothe himself and his wife, and how

to get bread for themselves. He cannot help me. When the man saw me he frowned and became still more

terrible, and passed me by on the other side. I despaired, but suddenly I heard him coming back. I looked up,

and did not recognize the same man: before, I had seen death in his face; but now he was alive, and I

recognized in him the presence of God. He came up to me, clothed me, took me with him and brought me to

his home. I entered the house a woman came to meet us and began to speak. The woman was still more

terrible than the man had been; the spirit of death came from her mouth; I could not breathe for the stench of

death that spread around her. She wished to drive me out into the cold, and I knew that if she did so she

would die. Suddenly her husband spoke to her of God, and the woman changed at once. And when she

brought me food and looked at me, I glanced at her and saw that death no longer dwelt in her; she had

'Then I remembered the first lesson God had set me: "Learn what dwells in man." And I understood that in

man dwells Love! I was glad that God had already begun to show me what He had promised, and I smiled for

the first time. But I had not yet learnt all. I did not yet know What is not given to man, and What men live by.

'I lived with you, and a year passed. A man came to order boots that should wear for a year without losing

shape or cracking. I looked at him, and suddenly, behind his shoulder, I saw my comrade the angel of

death. None but me saw that angel; but I knew him, and knew that before the sun set he would take that rich

man's soul. And I thought to myself, "The man is making preparations for a year, and does not know that he

will die before evening." And I remembered God's second saying, "Learn what is not given to man."

'What dwells in man I already knew. Now I learnt what is not given him. It is not given to man to know his

own needs. And I smiled for the second time. I was glad to have seen my comrade angel glad also that

'But I still did not know all. I did not know What men live by. And I lived on, waiting till God should reveal

to me the last lesson. In the sixth year came the girltwins with the woman; and I recognized the girls, and

heard how they had been kept alive. Having heard the story, I thought, "Their mother besought me for the

children's sake, and I believed her when she said that children cannot live without father or mother; but a

stranger has nursed them, and has brought them up." And when the woman showed her love for the children

that were not her own, and wept over them, I saw in her the living God, and understood What men live by.

And I knew that God had revealed to me the last lesson, and had forgiven my sin. And then I smiled for the

And the angel's body was bared, and he was clothed in light so that eye could not look on him; and his voice

grew louder, as though it came not from him but from heaven above. And the angel said:

'It was not given to the mother to know what her children needed for their life. Nor was it given to the rich

man to know what he himself needed. Nor is it given to any man to know whether, when evening comes, he

'I remained alive when I was a man, not by care of myself, but because love was present in a passerby, and

because he and his wife pitied and loved me. The orphans remained alive, not because of their mother's care,

but because there was love in the heart of a woman a stranger to them, who pitied and loved them. And all

men live not by the thought they spend on their own welfare, but because love exists in man.

'I knew before that God gave life to men and desires that they should live; now I understood more than that.

'I understood that God does not wish men to live apart, and therefore he does not reveal to them what each

one needs for himself; but he wishes them to live united, and therefore reveals to each of them what is

'I have now understood that though it seems to men that they live by care for themselves, in truth it is love

alone by which they live. He who has love, is in God, and God is in him, for God is love.'

And the angel sang praise to God, so that the hut trembled at his voice. The roof opened, and a column of fire

rose from earth to heaven. Simon and his wife and children fell to the ground. Wings appeared upon the

And when Simon came to himself the hut stood as before, and there was no one in it but his own family.

'Then came Peter, and said to him, Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? until

seven times? Jesus saith unto him, I say not unto thee, Until seven times; but, Until seventy times seven.

Therefore is the kingdom of heaven likened unto a certain king, which would make a reckoning with his

servants. And when he had begun to reckon, one was brought unto him, which owed him ten thousand

talents. But forasmuch as he had not wherewith to pay, his lord commanded him to be sold, and his wife, and

children, and all that he had, and payment to be made. The servant therefore fell down and worshipped him,

saying, Lord, have patience with me, and I will pay thee all. And the lord of that servant, being moved with

compassion, released him, and forgave him the debt. But that servant went out, and found one of his

fellowservants, which owed him a hundred pence: and he laid hold on him, and took him by the throat

saying, Pay what thou owest. So his fellowservant fell down and besought him, saying, Have patience with

me, and I will pay thee. And he would not: but went and cast him into prison, till he should pay that which

was due. So when his fellowservants saw what was done, they were exceeding sorry, and came and told

unto their lord all that was done. Then his lord called him unto him, and saith to him, Thou wicked servant, I

forgave thee all that debt, because thou besoughtest me: shouldest not thou also have had mercy on thy

fellowservant, even as I had mercy on thee? And his lord was wroth, and delivered him to the tormentors,

till he should pay all that was due. So shall also my heavenly Father do unto you, if ye forgive not every one

THERE once lived in a village a peasant named Ivan Stcherbakf. He was comfortably off, in the prime of

life, the best worker in the village, and had three sons all able to work. The eldest was married, the second

about to marry, and the third was a big lad who could mind the horses and was already beginning to plough.

Ivan's wife was an able and thrifty woman, and they were fortunate in having a quiet, hardworking

daughterinlaw. There was nothing to prevent Ivan and his family from living happily. They had only one

idle mouth to feed; that was Ivan's old father, who suffered from asthma and had been lying ill on the top of

the brick oven for seven years. Ivan had all he needed: three horses and a colt, a cow with a calf, and fifteen

sheep. The women made all the clothing for the family, besides helping in the fields, and the men tilled the

land. They always had grain enough of their own to last over beyond the next harvest and sold enough oats to

pay the taxes and meet their other needs. So Ivan and his children might have lived quite comfortably had it

not been for a feud between him and his nextdoor neighbour, Limping Gabriel, the son of Gordey Ivanof.

As long as old Gordey was alive and Ivan's father was still able to manage the household, the peasants lived

as neighbours should. If the women of either house happened to want a sieve or a tub, or the men required a

sack, or if a cartwheel got broken and could not be mended at once, they used to send to the other house,

and helped each other in neighbourly fashion. When a calf strayed into the neighbour's thrashingground they

would just drive it out, and only say, 'Don't let it get in again; our grain is lying there.' And such things as

locking up the barns and outhouses, hiding things from one another, or backbiting were never thought of in

That was in the fathers' time. When the sons came to be at the head of the families, everything changed.

Ivan's daughterinlaw had a hen that began laying rather early in the season, and she started collecting its

eggs for Easter. Every day she went to the cartshed, and found an egg in the cart; but one day the hen,

probably frightened by the children, flew across the fence into the neighbour's yard and laid its egg there. The

woman heard the cackling, but said to herself: 'I have no time now; I must tidy up for Sunday. I'll fetch the

egg later on.' In the evening she went to the cart, but found no egg there. She went and asked her

motherinlaw and brotherinlaw whether they had taken the egg. 'No,' they had not; but her youngest

brotherinlaw, Taras, said: 'Your Biddy laid its egg in the neighbour's yard. It was there she was cackling,

The woman went and looked at the hen. There she was on the perch with the other birds, her eyes just closing

ready to go to sleep. The woman wished she could have asked the hen and got an answer from her.

'Why, Granny, you see, my hen flew across this morning. Did she not lay an egg here?'

'We never saw anything of it. The Lord be thanked, our own hens started laying long ago. We collect our own

eggs and have no need of other people's! And we don't go looking for eggs in other people's yards, lass!'

The young woman was offended, and said more than she should have done. Her neighbour answered back

with interest, and the women began abusing each other. Ivan's wife, who had been to fetch water, happening

to pass just then, joined in too. Gabriel's wife rushed out, and began reproaching the young woman with

things that had really happened and with other things that never had happened at all. Then a general uproar

commenced, all shouting at once, trying to get out two words at a time, and not choice words either.

'You're this!' and 'You're that!' 'You're a thief!' and 'You're a slut!' and 'You're starving your old

'And you've made a hole in the sieve I lent you, you jade! And it's our yoke you're carrying your pails on

Then they caught hold of the yoke, and spilt the water, snatched off one another's shawls, and began fighting.

Gabriel, returning from the fields, stopped to take his wife's part. Out rushed Ivan and his son and joined in

with the rest. Ivan was a strong fellow, he scattered the whole lot of them, and pulled a handful of hair out of

Gabriel's beard. People came to see what was the matter, and the fighters were separated with difficulty.

Gabriel wrapped the hair torn from his beard in a paper, and went to the District Court to have the law of

Ivan. 'I didn't grow my beard,' said he, 'for pockmarked Ivan to pull it out!' And his wife went bragging to the

neighbours, saying they'd have Ivan condemned and sent to Siberia. And so the feud grew.

The old man, from where he lay on the top of the oven, tried from the very first to persuade them to make

peace, but they would not listen. He told them, 'It's a stupid thing you are after, children, picking quarrels

about such a paltry matter. Just think! The whole thing began about an egg. The children may have taken it

well, what matter? What's the value of one egg? God sends enough for all! And suppose your neighbour

did say an unkind word put it right; show her how to say a better one! If there has been a fight well,

such things will happen; we're all sinners, but make it up, and let there be an end of it! If you nurse your

But the younger folk would not listen to the old man. They thought his words were mere senseless dotage.

'I never pulled his beard,' he said, 'he pulled the hair out himself. But his son has burst all the fastenings on

And Ivan also went to law. They were tried by the Justice of the Peace and by the District Court. While all

this was going on, the couplingpin of Gabriel's cart disappeared. Gabriel's womenfolk accused Ivan's son of

having taken it. They said: 'We saw him in the night go past our window, towards the cart; and a neighbour

So they went to law about that. And at home not a day passed without a quarrel or even a fight. The children,

too, abused one another, having learnt to do so from their elders; and when the women happened to meet by

the riverside, where they went to rinse the clothes, their arms did not do as much wringing as their tongues

At first the peasants only slandered one another; but afterwards they began in real earnest to snatch anything

that lay handy, and the children followed their example. Life became harder and harder for them. Ivan

Stcherbakf and Limping Gabriel kept suing one another at the Village Assembly, and at the District Court,

and before the Justice of the Peace until all the judges were tired of them. Now Gabriel got Ivan fined or

imprisoned; then Ivan did as much to Gabriel; and the more they spited each other the angrier they grew

like dogs that attack one another and get more and more furious the longer they fight. You strike one dog

from behind, and it thinks it's the other dog biting him, and gets still fiercer. So these peasants: they went to

law, and one or other of them was fined or locked up, but that only made them more and more angry with

each other. 'Wait a bit,' they said, 'and I'll make you pay for it.' And so it went on for six years. Only the old

man lying on the top of the oven kept telling them again and again: 'Children, what are you doing? Stop all

this paying back; keep to your work, and don't bear malice it will be better for you. The more you bear

In the seventh year, at a wedding, Ivan's daughterinlaw held Gabriel up to shame, accusing him of having

been caught horsestealing. Gabriel was tipsy, and unable to contain his anger, gave the woman such a blow

that she was laid up for a week; and she was pregnant at the time. Ivan was delighted. He went to the

magistrate to lodge a complaint. 'Now I'll get rid of my neighbour! He won't escape imprisonment, or exile to

Siberia.' But Ivan's wish was not fulfilled. The magistrate dismissed the case. The woman was examined, but

she was up and about and showed no sign of any injury. Then Ivan went to the Justice of the Peace, but he

referred the business to the District Court. Ivan bestirred himself: treated the clerk and the Elder of the

District Court to a gallon of liquor and got Gabriel condemned to be flogged. The sentence was read out to

Gabriel by the clerk: 'The Court decrees that the peasant Gabriel Gordeyef shall receive twenty lashes with a

Ivan too heard the sentence read, and looked at Gabriel to see how he would take it. Gabriel grew as pale as a

sheet, and turned round and went out into the passage. Ivan followed him, meaning to see to the horse, and he

overheard Gabriel say, 'Very well! He will have my back flogged: that will make it burn; but something of his

Hearing these words, Ivan at once went back into the Court, and said: 'Upright judges! He threatens to set my

'I haven't said anything. Flog me, since you have the power. It seems that I alone am to suffer, and all for

Gabriel wished to say something more, but his lips and his cheeks quivered, and he turned towards the wall.

Even the officials were frightened by his looks. 'He may do some mischief to himself or to his neighbour,'

Then the old Judge said: 'Look here, my men; you'd better be reasonable and make it up. Was it right of you,

friend Gabriel, to strike a pregnant woman? It was lucky it passed off so well, but think what might have

happened! Was it right? You had better confess and beg his pardon, and he will forgive you, and we will alter

The clerk heard these words, and remarked: 'That's impossible under Statute 117. An agreement between the

parties not having been arrived at, a decision of the Court has been pronounced and must be executed.'

'Keep your tongue still, my friend,' said he. 'The first of all laws is to obey God, Who loves peace.' And the

Judge began again to persuade the peasants, but could not succeed. Gabriel would not listen to him.

'I shall be fifty next year,' said he, 'and have a married son, and have never been flogged in my life, and now

that pockmarked Ivan has had me condemned to be flogged, and am I to go and ask his forgiveness? No; I've

Again Gabriel's voice quivered, and he could say no more, but turned round and went out.

It was seven miles from the Court to the village, and it was getting late when Ivan reached home. He

unharnessed his horse, put it up for the night, and entered the cottage. No one was there. The women had

already gone to drive the cattle in, and the young fellows were not yet back from the fields. Ivan went in, and

sat down, thinking. He remembered how Gabriel had listened to the sentence, and how pale he had become,

and how he had turned to the wall; and Ivan's heart grew heavy. He thought how he himself would feel if he

were sentenced, and he pitied Gabriel. Then he heard his old father up on the oven cough, and saw him sit up,

lower his legs, and scramble down. The old man dragged himself slowly to a seat, and sat down. He was

quite tired out with the exertion, and coughed a long time till he had cleared his throat. Then, leaning against

'A bad business,' said he. 'You are doing wrong, Ivan! Ah! it's very bad not for him so much as for

'Why, think of the harm he has done me!' said Ivan. 'He nearly killed my wife, and now he's threatening to

The old man sighed, and said: 'You go about the wide world, Ivan, while I am lying on the oven all these

years, so you think you see everything, and that I see nothing. . . . Ah, lad! It's you that don't see; malice

blinds you. Others' sins are before your eyes, but your own are behind your back. "He's acted badly!" What a

thing to say! If he were the only one to act badly, how could strife exist? Is strife among men ever bred by

one alone? Strife is always between two. His badness you see, but your own you don't. If he were bad, but

you were good, there would be no strife. Who pulled the hair out of his beard? Who spoilt his haystack? Who

dragged him to the law court? Yet you put it all on him! You live a bad life yourself, that's what is wrong! It's

not the way I used to live, lad, and it's not the way I taught you. Is that the way his old father and I used to

live? How did we live? Why, as neighbours should! If he happened to run out of flour, one of the women

would come across: "Uncle Trol, we want some flour." "Go to the barn, dear," I'd say: "take what you need."

If he'd no one to take his horses to pasture, "Go, Ivan," I'd say, "and look after his horses." And if I was short

of anything, I'd go to him. "Uncle Gordey," I'd say, "I want soandso!" "Take it Uncle Trol!" That's how it

was between us, and we had an easy time of it. But now? . . . That soldier the other day was telling us about

the fight at Plevna[9]. Why, there's war between you worse than at Plevna! Is that living? . . . What a sin it is!

You are a man and master of the house; it's you who will have to answer. What are you teaching the women

and the children? To snarl and snap? Why, the other day your Taraska that greenhorn was swearing at

neighbour Irena, calling her names; and his mother listened and laughed. Is that right? It is you will have to

answer. Think of your soul. Is this all as it should be? You throw a word at me, and I give you two in return;

you give me a blow, and I give you two. No, lad! Christ, when He walked on earth, taught us fools something

very different. . . . If you get a hard word from any one, keep silent, and his own conscience will accuse him.

That is what our Lord taught. If you get a slap, turn the other cheek. "Here, beat me, if that's what I deserve!"

And his own conscience will rebuke him. He will soften, and will listen to you. That's the way He taught us,

The old man coughed, and having with difficulty cleared his throat, began again: 'You think Christ taught us

wrong? Why, it's all for our own good. Just think of your earthly life; are you better off, or worse, since this

Plevna began among you? Just reckon up what you've spent on all this law business what the driving

backwards and forwards and your food on the way have cost you! What fine fellows your sons have grown;

you might live and get on well; but now your means are lessening. And why? All because of this folly;

because of your pride. You ought to be ploughing with your lads, and do the sowing yourself; but the fiend

carries you off to the judge, or to some pettifogger or other. The ploughing is not done in time, nor the

sowing, and mother earth can't bear properly. Why did the oats fail this year? When did you sow them? When

you came back from town! And what did you gain? A burden for your own shoulders. . . . Eh, lad, think of

your own business! Work with your boys in the field and at home, and if some one offends you, forgive him,

as God wished you to. Then life will be easy, and your heart will always be light.'

'Ivan, my boy, hear your old father! Go and harness the roan, and go at once to the Government office; put an

end to all this affair there; and in the morning go and make it up with Gabriel in God's name, and invite him

to your house for tomorrow's holiday' (it was the eve of the Virgin's Nativity). 'Have tea ready, and get a

bottle of vdka and put an end to this wicked business, so that there should not be any more of it in future, and

Ivan sighed, and thought, 'What he says is true,' and his heart grew lighter. Only he did not know how, now,

'Go, Ivan, don't put it off! Put out the fire before it spreads, or it will be too late.'

The old man was going to say more, but before he could do so the women came in, chattering like magpies.

The news that Gabriel was sentenced to be flogged, and of his threat to set fire to the house, had already

reached them. They had heard all about it and added to it something of their own, and had again had a row, in

the pasture, with the women of Gabriel's household. They began telling how Gabriel's daughterinlaw

threatened a fresh action: Gabriel had got the right side of the examining magistrate, who would now turn the

whole affair upside down; and the schoolmaster was writing out another petition, to the Tsar himself this

time, about Ivan; and everything was in the petition all about the couplingpin and the kitchengarden

so that half of Ivan's homestead would be theirs soon. Ivan heard what they were saying, and his heart grew

In a farmstead there is always plenty for the master to do. Ivan did not stop to talk to the women, but went out

to the threshingfloor and to the barn. By the time he had tidied up there, the sun had set and the young

fellows had returned from the field. They had been ploughing the field for the winter crops with two horses.

Ivan met them, questioned them about their work, helped to put everything in its place, set a torn horsecollar

aside to be mended, and was going to put away some stakes under the barn, but it had grown quite dusk, so he

decided to leave them where they were till next day. Then he gave the cattle their food, opened the gate, let

out the horses. Taras was to take to pasture for the night, and again closed the gate and barred it. 'Now,'

thought he, 'I'll have my supper, and then to bed.' He took the horsecollar and entered the hut. By this time

he had forgotten about Gabriel and about what his old father had been saying to him. But, just as he took hold

of the doorhandle to enter the passage, he heard his neighbour on the other side of the fence cursing

somebody in a hoarse voice: 'What the devil is he good for?' Gabriel was saying. 'He's only fit to be killed!'

At these words all Ivan's former bitterness towards his neighbour reawoke. He stood listening while Gabriel

There was a light inside; his daughterinlaw sat spinning, his wife was getting supper ready, his eldest son

was making straps for bark shoes, his second sat near the table with a book, and Taras was getting ready to go

out to pasture the horses for the night. Everything in the hut would have been pleasant and bright, but for that

Ivan entered, sullen and cross; threw the cat down from the bench, and scolded the women for putting the

sloppail in the wrong place. He felt despondent, and sat down, frowning, to mend the horsecollar. Gabriel's

words kept ringing in his ears: his threat at the law court, and what he had just been shouting in a hoarse

His wife gave Taras his supper, and, having eaten it, Taras put on an old sheepskin and another coat, tied a

sash round his waist, took some bread with him, and went out to the horses. His eldest brother was going to

see him off, but Ivan himself rose instead, and went out into the porch. It had grown quite dark outside,

clouds had gathered, and the wind had risen. Ivan went down the steps, helped his boy to mount, started the

foal after him, and stood listening while Taras rode down the village and was there joined by other lads with

their horses. Ivan waited until they were all out of hearing. As he stood there by the gate he could not get

Gabriel's words out of his head: 'Mind that something of yours does not burn worse!'

'He is desperate,' thought Ivan. 'Everything is dry, and it's windy weather besides. He'll come up at the back

somewhere, set fire to something, and be off. He'll burn the place and escape scot free, the villain! . . . There

now, if one could but catch him in the act, he'd not get off then!' And the thought fixed itself so firmly in his

mind that he did not go up the steps but went out into the street and round the corner. I'll just walk round the

buildings; who can tell what he's after?' And Ivan, stepping softly, passed out of the gate. As soon as he

reached the corner, he looked round along the fence, and seemed to see something suddenly move at the

opposite corner, as if some one had come out and disappeared again. Ivan stopped, and stood quietly,

listening and looking. Everything was still; only the leaves of the willows fluttered in the wind, and the

straws of the thatch rustled. At first it seemed pitch dark, but, when his eyes had grown used to the darkness,

he could see the far corner, and a plough that lay there, and the eaves. He looked a while, but saw no one.

'I suppose it was a mistake,' thought Ivan; 'but still I will go round,' and Ivan went stealthily along by the

shed. Ivan stepped so softly in his bark shoes that he did not hear his own footsteps. As he reached the far

corner, something seemed to flare up for a moment near the plough and to vanish again. Ivan felt as if struck

to the heart; and he stopped. Hardly had he stopped, when something flared up more brightly in the same

place, and he clearly saw a man with a cap on his head, crouching down, with his back towards him, lighting

a bunch of straw he held in his hand. Ivan's heart fluttered within him like a bird. Straining every nerve, he

approached with great strides, hardly feeling his legs under him. 'Ah,' thought Ivan, 'now he won't escape! I'll

Ivan was still some distance off, when suddenly he saw a bright light, but not in the same place as before, and

not a small flame. The thatch had flared up at the eaves, the flames were reaching up to the roof, and,

Like a hawk swooping down on a lark, Ivan rushed at Limping Gabriel. 'Now I'll have him; he shan't escape

me!' thought Ivan. But Gabriel must have heard his steps, and (however he managed it) glancing round, he

Just as he was going to seize Gabriel, the latter dodged him; but Ivan managed to catch the skirt of Gabriel's

coat. It tore right off, and Ivan fell down. He recovered his feet, and shouting, 'Help! Seize him! Thieves!

Murder!' ran on again. But meanwhile Gabriel had reached his own gate. There Ivan overtook him and was

about to seize him, when something struck Ivan a stunning blow, as though a stone had hit his temple, quite

deafening him. It was Gabriel who, seizing an oak wedge that lay near the gate, had struck out with all his

Ivan was stunned; sparks flew before his eyes, then all grew dark and he staggered. When he came to his

senses Gabriel was no longer there: it was as light as day, and from the side where his homestead was

something roared and crackled like an engine at work. Ivan turned round and saw that his back shed was all

ablaze, and the side shed had also caught fire, and flames and smoke and bits of burning straw mixed with the

'What is this, friends? . . .' cried Ivan, lifting his arms and striking his thighs.' Why, all I had to do was just to

snatch it out from under the eaves and trample on it! What is this, friends? . . .' he kept repeating. He wished

to shout, but his breath failed him; his voice was gone. He wanted to run, but his legs would not obey him,

and got in each other's way. He moved slowly, but again staggered and again his breath failed. He stood still

till he had regained breath, and then went on. Before he had got round the back shed to reach the fire, the side

shed was also all ablaze; and the corner of the hut and the covered gateway had caught fire as well. The

flames were leaping out of the hut, and it was impossible to get into the yard. A large crowd had collected,

but nothing could be done. The neighbours were carrying their belongings out of their own houses, and

driving the cattle out of their own sheds. After Ivan's house, Gabriel's also caught fire, then, the wind rising,

the flames spread to the other side of the street and half the village was burnt down.

At Ivan's house they barely managed to save his old father; and the family escaped in what they had on;

everything else, except the horses that had been driven out to pasture for the night, was lost; all the cattle, the

fowls on their perches, the carts, ploughs, and harrows, the women's trunks with their clothes, and the grain in

At Gabriel's, the cattle were driven out, and a few things saved from his house.

The fire lasted all night. Ivan stood in front of his homestead and kept repeating, 'What is this? . . . Friends! . .

. One need only have pulled it out and trampled on it!' But when the roof fell in, Ivan rushed into the burning

place, and seizing a charred beam, tried to drag it out. The women saw him, and called him back; but he

pulled out the beam, and was going in again for another when he lost his footing and fell among the flames.

Then his son made his way in after him and dragged him out. Ivan had singed his hair and beard and burnt his

clothes and scorched his hands, but he felt nothing. 'His grief has stupefied him,' said the people. The fire was

burning itself out, but Ivan still stood repeating: 'Friends! . . . What is this? . . . One need only have pulled it

Ivan had forgotten about his father, and did not understand what was being said to him.

'He sent for you, to say goodbye; he is dying in our cottage! Come along, daddy Ivan,' said the Elder's son,

When he was being carried out of the hut, some burning straw had fallen on to the old man and burnt him,

and he had been taken to the village Elder's in the farther part of the village, which the fire did not reach.

When Ivan came to his father, there was only the Elder's wife in the hut, besides some little children on the

top of the oven. All the rest were still at the fire. The old man, who was lying on a bench holding a wax

candle[10] in his hand, kept turning his eyes towards the door. When his son entered, he moved a little. The

old woman went up to him and told him that his son had come. He asked to have him brought nearer. Ivan

'What did I tell you, Ivan?' began the old man 'Who has burnt down the village?'

'It was he, father!' Ivan answered. 'I caught him in the act. I saw him shove the firebrand into the thatch. I

might have pulled away the burning straw and stamped it out, and then nothing would have happened.'

'Ivan,' said the old man, 'I am dying, and you in your turn will have to face death. Whose is the sin?'

Only then Ivan came to his senses and understood it all. He sniffed and said, 'Mine, father!' And he fell on his

knees before his father, saying, 'Forgive me, father; I am guilty before you and before God.'

The old man moved his hands, changed the candle from his right hand to his left, and tried to lift his right

'Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord!' said he, and again he turned his eyes towards his son.

The old man closed his eyes, moved his lips as if to gather strength, and opening his eyes again, said: 'You'll

manage. If you obey God's will, you'll manage!' He paused, then smiled, and said: 'Mind, Ivan! Don't tell who

started the fire! Hide another man's sin, and God will forgive two of yours!' And the old man took the candle

Ivan did not say anything against Gabriel, and no one knew what had caused the fire.

And Ivan's anger against Gabriel passed away, and Gabriel wondered that Ivan did not tell anybody. At first

Gabriel felt afraid, but after awhile he got used to it. The men left off quarrelling, and then their families left

off also. While rebuilding their huts, both families lived in one house; and when the village was rebuilt and

they might have moved farther apart, Ivan and Gabriel built next to each other, and remained neighbours as

They lived as good neighbours should. Ivan Stcherbakf remembered his old father's command to obey God's

law, and quench a fire at the first spark; and if any one does him an injury he now tries not to revenge

himself, but rather to set matters right again; and if any one gives him a bad word, instead of giving a worse

in return, he tries to teach the other not to use evil words; and so he teaches his womenfolk and children. And

Ivan Stcherbakf has got on his feet again, and now lives better even than he did before.

'The woman saith unto him, Sir, I perceive that thou art a prophet. Our fathers worshipped in this mountain;

and ye say, that in Jerusalem is the place where men ought to worship. Jesus saith unto her, Woman, believe

me, the hour cometh when neither in this mountain, nor in Jerusalem, shall ye worship the Father. . . . But the

hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and truth: for such doth

THERE were once two old men who decided to go on a pilgrimage to worship God at Jerusalem. One of

them was a welltodo peasant named Ef�m Tarasitch Shevelef. The other, Elisha Bdrof, was not so well off.

Ef�m was a staid man, serious and firm. He neither drank nor smoked nor took snuff, and had never used bad

language in his life. He had twice served as village Elder, and when he left office his accounts were in good

order. He had a large family: two sons and a married grandson, all living with him. He was hale,

longbearded and erect, and it was only when he was past sixty that a little grey began to show itself in his

Elisha was neither rich nor poor. He had formerly gone out carpentering, but now that he was growing old he

stayed at home and kept bees. One of his sons had gone away to find work, the other was living at home.

Elisha was a kindly and cheerful old man. It is true he drank sometimes, and he took snuff, and was fond of

singing, but he was a peaceable man, and lived on good terms with his family and with his neighbours. He

was short and dark, with a curly beard, and, like his patron saint Elisha, he was quite baldheaded.

The two old men had taken a vow long since and had arranged to go on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem together:

but Ef�m could never spare the time; he always had so much business on hand; as soon as one thing was

finished he started another. First he had to arrange his grandson's marriage; then to wait for his youngest son's

One holiday the two old men met outside the hut and, sitting down on some timber, began to talk.

'We must wait,' he said. 'This year has turned out a hard one for me. I started building this hut thinking it

would cost me something over a hundred roubles, but now it's getting on for three hundred and it's still not

finished. We shall have to wait tin the summer. In summer, God willing, we will go without fail.'

'It seems to me we ought not to put it off, but should go at once,' said Elisha. 'Spring is the best time.'

'But how? My eldest son is not trustworthy he sometimes takes a glass too much.'

'Ah, neighbour, when we die they'll get on without us. Let your son begin now to get some experience.'

'That's true enough, but somehow when one begins a thing one likes to see it done.'

'Eh, friend, we can never get through all we have to do. The other day the womenfolk at home were washing

and house cleaning for Easter. Here something needed doing, there something else, and they could not get

everything done. So my eldest daughterinlaw, who's a sensible woman, says: 'We may be thankful the

holiday comes without waiting for us, or however hard we worked we should never be ready for it.'

'I've spent a lot of money on this building,' he said 'and one can't start on the journey with empty pockets. We

'Now, come, come, old friend!' he said, 'you have ten times as much as I, and yet you talk about money. Only

say when we are to start, and though I have nothing now I shall have enough by then.'

'Dear me, I did not know you were so rich!' said he. 'Why, where will you get it from?'

'I can scrape some together at home, and if that's not enough, I'll sell half a score of hives to my neighbour.

'Regret it! Not I, neighbour! I never regretted anything in my life, except my sins. There's nothing more

'But what if our souls are neglected? That's worse. We took the vow, so let us go! Now, seriously, let us go!'

Elisha succeeded in persuading his comrade. In the morning, after thinking it well over, Ef�m came to Elisha.

'You are right,' said he, 'let us go. Life and death are in God's hands. We must go now, while we are still alive

A week later the old men were ready to start. Ef�m had money enough at hand. He took a hundred roubles

Elisha, too, got ready. He sold ten hives to his neighbour, with any new swarms that might come from them

before the summer. He took seventy roubles for the lot. The rest of the hundred roubles he scraped together

from the other members of his household, fairly clearing them all out. His wife gave him all she had been

Ef�m gave his eldest son definite orders about every thing: when and how much grass to mow, where to cart

the manure, and how to finish off and roof the cottage. He thought out everything, and gave his orders

accordingly. Elisha, on the other hand, only explained to his wife that she was to keep separate the swarms

from the hives he had sold, and to be sure to let the neighbour have them all, without any tricks. As to

'You will see what to do and how to do it, as the needs arise,' he said. 'You are the masters, and will know

So the old men got ready. Their people baked them cakes, and made bags for them, and cut them linen for

legbands[11]. They put on new leather shoes, and took with them spare shoes of platted bark. Their families

went with them to the end of the village and there took leave of them, and the old men started on their

Elisha left home in a cheerful mood, and as soon as he was out of the village forgot all his home affairs. His

only care was how to please his comrade, how to avoid saying a rude word to any one, how to get to his

destination and home again in peace and love. Walking along the road, Elisha would either whisper some

prayer to himself or go over in his mind such of the lives of the saints as he was able to remember. When he

came across any one on the road, or turned in anywhere for the night, he tried to behave as gently as possible

and to say a godly word. So he journeyed on, rejoicing. One thing only he could not do, he could not give up

taking snuff. Though he had left his snuffbox behind, he hankered after it. Then a man he met on the road

gave him some snuff; and every now and then he would lag behind (not to lead his comrade into temptation)

Ef�m too walked well and firmly; doing no wrong and speaking no vain words, but his heart was not so light.

Household cares weighed on his mind. He kept worrying about what was going on at home. Had he not

forgotten to give his son this or that order? Would his son do things properly? If he happened to see potatoes

being planted or manure carted, as he went along, he wondered if his son was doing as he had been told. And

he almost wanted to turn back and show him how to do things, or even do them himself.

The old men had been walking for five weeks, they had worn out their homemade bark shoes, and had to

begin buying new ones when they reached Little Russia[12]. From the time they left home they had had to

pay for their food and for their night's lodging, but when they reached Little Russia the people vied with one

another in asking them into their huts. They took them in and fed them, and would accept no payment; and

more than that, they put bread or even cakes into their bags for them to eat on the road.

The old men travelled some five hundred miles in this manner free of expense, but after they had crossed the

next province, they came to a district where the harvest had failed. The peasants still gave them free lodging

at night, but no longer fed them for nothing. Sometimes, even, they could get no bread: they offered to pay

for it, but there was none to be had. The people said the harvest had completely failed the year before. Those

who had been rich were ruined and had had to sell all they possessed; those of moderate means were left

destitute, and those of the poor who had not left those parts, wandered about begging, or starved at home in

One night the old men stopped in a small village; they bought fifteen pounds of bread, slept there, and started

before sunrise, to get well on their way before the heat of the day. When they had gone some eight miles, on

coming to a stream they sat down, and, filling a bowl with water, they steeped some bread in it, and ate it.

Then they changed their legbands, and rested for a while. Elisha took out his snuffbox. Ef�m shook his

Presently they got up and went on. After walking for nearly another eight miles, they came to a large village

and passed right through it. It had now grown hot. Elisha was tired out and wanted to rest and have a drink,

but Ef�m did not stop. Ef�m was the better walker of the two, and Elisha found it hard to keep up with him.

'You go on,' he said, 'but I'll just run in to the little hut there. I will catch you up in a moment.'

'All right,' said Ef�m, and he went on along the high road alone, while Elisha turned back to the hut.

It was a small hut plastered with clay, the bottom a dark colour, the top whitewashed; but the clay had

crumbled away. Evidently it was long since it had been replastered, and the thatch was off the roof on one

side. The entrance to the hut was through the yard. Elisha entered the yard, and saw, lying close to a bank of

earth that ran round the hut, a gaunt, beardless man with his shirt tucked into his trousers, as is the custom in

Little Russia[13]. The man must have lain down in the shade, but the sun had come round and now shone full

on him. Though not asleep, he still lay there. Elisha called to him, and asked for a drink, but the man gave no

'He is either ill or unfriendly,' thought Elisha; and going to the door he heard a child crying in the hut. He

Elisha was about to turn away, when he thought ho heard a groan the other side of the door.

'Dear me, some misfortune must have happened to the people? I had better have a look.'

Elisha turned the ring; the door was not fastened. He opened it and went along up the narrow passage. The

door into the dwellingroom was open. To the left was a brick oven; in front against the wall was an

iconstand[14] and a table before it, by the table was a bench on which sat an old woman, bareheaded and

wearing only a single garment. There she sat with her head resting on the table, and near her was a thin,

waxcoloured boy, with a protruding stomach. He was asking for something, pulling at her sleeve, and crying

bitterly. Elisha entered. The air in the hut was very foul. He looked round, and saw a woman lying on the

floor behind the oven: she lay flat on the ground with her eyes closed and her throat rattling, now stretching

out a leg, now dragging it in, tossing from side to side; and the foul smell came from her. Evidently she could

do nothing for herself and no one had been attending to her needs. The old woman lifted her head, and saw

The little boy had ceased crying when he saw the stranger, but when the old woman began to speak, he began

Elisha was about to question the old woman, when the man staggered into the hut. He came along the

passage, clinging to the wall, but as he was entering the dwellingroom he fell in the corner near the

threshold, and without trying to get up again to reach the bench, he began to speak in broken words. He

'Illness has seized us . . . ,' said he, 'and famine. He is dying . . . of hunger.'

Elisha jerked up the sack behind his shoulder and pulling the straps off his arms, put it on the floor. Then he

lifted it on to the bench, and untied the strings. Having opened the sack, he took out a loaf of bread, and,

cutting off a piece with his knife, handed it to the man. The man would not take it, but pointed to the little

Elisha held it out to the boy. When the boy smelt bread, he stretched out his arms, and seizing the slice with

both his little hands, bit into it so that his nose disappeared in the chunk. The little girl came out from behind

the oven and fixed her eyes on the bread. Elisha gave her also a slice. Then he cut off another piece and gave

'If only some water could be brought,' she said, 'their mouths are parched. I tried to fetch some water

yesterday or was it today I can't remember, but I fell down and could go no further, and the pail has

Elisha asked where the well was. The old woman told him. Elisha went out, found the pail, brought some

water, and gave the people a drink. The children and the old woman ate some more bread with the water, but

All this time the younger woman did not show any consciousness, but continued to toss from side to side.

Presently Elisha went to the village shop and bought some millet, salt, flour, and oil. He found an axe,

chopped some wood, and made a fire. The little girl came and helped him. Then he boiled some soup, and

The man ate a little, the old woman had some too, and the little girl and boy licked the bowl clean, and then

The man and the old woman then began telling Elisha how they had sunk to their present state.

'We were poor enough before?' said they, 'but when the crops failed, what we gathered hardly lasted us

through the autumn. We had nothing left by the time winter came, and had to beg from the neighbours and

from any one we could. At first they gave, then they began to refuse. Some would have been glad enough to

help us, but had nothing to give. And we were ashamed of asking: we were in debt all round, and owed

'I went to look for work,' the man said, 'but could find none. Everywhere people were offering to work merely

for their own keep. One day you'd get a short job, and then you might spend two days looking for work. Then

the old woman and the girl went begging, further away. But they got very little; bread was so scarce. Still we

scraped food together somehow, and hoped to struggle through till next harvest, but towards spring people

ceased to give anything. And then this illness seized us. Things became worse and worse. One day we might

have something to eat, and then nothing for two days. We began eating grass. Whether it was the grass, or

what, made my wife ill, I don't know. She could not keep on her legs, and I had no strength left, and there

'I struggled on alone for a while,' said the old woman, 'but at last I broke down too for want of food, and grew

quite weak. The girl also grew weak and timid. I told her to go to the neighbours she would not leave the

hut, but crept into a corner and sat there. The day before yesterday a neighbour looked in, but seeing that we

were ill and hungry she turned away and left us. Her husband has had to go away, and she has nothing for her

Having heard their story, Elisha gave up the thought of overtaking his comrade that day, and remained with

them all night. In the morning he got up and began doing the housework, just as if it were his own home. He

kneaded the bread with the old woman's help, and lit the fire. Then he went with the little girl to the

neighbours to get the most necessary things, for there was nothing in the hut: everything had been sold for

bread cooking utensils, clothing, and all. So Elisha began replacing what was necessary, making some

things himself, and buying some. He remained there one day, then another, and then a third. The little boy

picked up strength and, whenever Elisha sat down, crept along the bench and nestled up to him. The little girl

The old woman grew stronger, and managed to go out to see a neighbour. The man too improved, and was

able to get about, holding on to the wall. Only the wife could not get up, but even she regained consciousness

'Well,' thought Elisha, 'I never expected to waste so much time on the way. Now I must be getting on.'

'I will stay and break the fast with these people. I'll go and buy them something, and keep the feast with them,

So Elisha went into the village, bought milk, wheatflour and dripping, and helped the old woman to boil and

bake for the morrow. On the feast day Elisha went to church, and then broke the fast with his friends at the

hut. That day the wife got up, and managed to move about a bit. The husband had shaved and put on a clean

shirt, which the old woman had washed for him; and he went to beg for mercy of a rich peasant in the village

to whom his ploughland and meadow were mortgaged. He went to beg the rich peasant to grant him the use

of the meadow and field till after the harvest; but in the evening he came back very sad, and began to weep.

Elisha again grew thoughtful. 'How are they to live now?' thought he to himself. 'Other people will go

haymaking, but there will be nothing for these to mow, their grass land is mortgaged. The rye will ripen.

Others will reap (and what a fine crop motherearth is giving this year), but they have nothing to look

forward to. Their three acres are pledged to the rich peasant. When I am gone, they'll drift back into the state I

Elisha was in two minds, but finally decided not to leave that evening, but to wait until the morrow. He went

out into the yard to sleep. He said his prayers, and lay down; but he could not sleep. On the one hand he felt

he ought to be going, for he had spent too much time and money as it was; on the other hand he felt sorry for

'There seems to be no end to it, he said. 'First I only meant to bring them a little water and give them each a

slice of bread: and just see where it has landed me. It's a case of redeeming the meadow and the cornfield.

And when I have done that, I shall have to buy a cow for them, and a horse for the man to cart his sheaves. A

nice coil you've got yourself into, brother Elisha! You've slipped your cables and lost your reckoning!'

Elisha got up, lifted his coat which he had been using for a pillow, unfolded it, got out his snuffbox and took

But no! He thought and thought, and came to no conclusion. He ought to be going; and yet pity held him

back. He did not know what to do. He refolded his coat and put it under his head again. He lay thus for a long

time, till the cocks had already crowed once: then he was quite drowsy. And suddenly it seemed as if some

one had roused him. He saw that he was dressed for the journey, with the sack on his back and the staff in his

hand, and the gate stood ajar so that he could just squeeze through. He was about to pass out, when his sack

caught against the fence on one side: he tried to free it, but then his legband caught on the other side and

came undone. He pulled at the sack, and saw that it had not caught on the fence, but that the little girl was

He looked at his foot, and there was the tiny boy holding him by the legband, while the master of the hut

'Tomorrow I will redeem their cornfield, and will buy them a horse, and flour to last till the harvest, and a

cow for the little ones; or else while I go to seek the Lord beyond the sea, I may lose Him in myself.'

Then Elisha fell asleep, and slept till morning. He awoke early, and going to the rich peasant, redeemed both

the cornfield and the meadow land. He bought a scythe (for that also had been sold) and brought it back with

him. Then he sent the man to mow, and himself went into the village. He heard that there was a horse and cart

for sale at the publichouse, and he struck a bargain with the owner, and bought them. Then he bought a sack

of flour, put it in the cart, and went to see about a cow. As he was going along he overtook two women

talking as they went. Though they spake the LittleRussian dialect, he understood what they were saying.

'At first, it seems, they did not know him; they thought he was just an ordinary man. He came in to ask for a

drink of water, and then he remained. Just think of the things he has bought for them! Why they say he

bought a horse and cart for them at the publican's, only this morning! There are not many such men in the

Elisha heard and understood that he was being praised, and he did not go to buy the cow, but returned to the

inn, paid for the horse, harnessed it, drove up to the hut, and got out. The people in the hut were astonished

when they saw the horse. They thought it might be for them, but dared not ask. The man came out to open the

'Why, I bought it,' said Elisha. 'It was going cheap. Go and cut some grass and put it in the manger for it to

The man unharnessed the horse, and carried the sack into the barn. Then he mowed some grass and put it in

the manger. Everybody lay down to sleep. Elisha went outside and lay by the roadside. That evening he took

his bag out with him. When every one was asleep, he got up, packed and fastened his bag, wrapped the linen

When Elisha had walked rather more than three miles it began to grow light. He sat down under a tree,

opened his bag, counted his money, and found he had only seventeen roubles and twenty kopeks left.

'Well,' thought he, 'it is no use trying to cross the sea with this. If I beg my way it may be worse than not

going at all. Friend Ef�m will get to Jerusalem without me, and will place a candle at the shrines in my name.

As for me, I'm afraid I shall never fulfil my vow in this life. I must be thankful it was made to a merciful

Elisha rose, jerked his bag well up on his shoulders, and turned back. Not wishing to be recognized by any

one, he made a circuit to avoid the village, and walked briskly homeward. Coming from home the way had

seemed difficult to him, and he had found it hard to keep up with Ef�m, but now on his return journey, God

helped him to get over the ground so that he hardly felt fatigue. Walking seemed like child's play. He went

When Elisha reached home the harvest was over. His family were delighted to see him again, and all wanted

to know what had happened: Why and how he had been left behind? And why he had returned without

'It was not God's will that I should get there,' said he. 'I lost my money on the way, and lagged behind my

Elisha gave his old wife what money he had left. Then he questioned them about home affairs. Everything

was going on well; all the work had been done, nothing neglected, and all were living in peace and concord.

Ef�m's family heard of his return the same day, and came for news of their old man; and to them Elisha gave

'Ef�m is a fast walker. We parted three days before St. Peter's day, and I meant to catch him up again, but all

sorts of things happened. I lost my money, and had no means to get any further, so I turned back.'

The folks were astonished that so sensible a man should have acted so foolishly: should have started and not

got to his destination, and should have squandered all his money. They wondered at it for a while, and then

forgot all about it, and Elisha forgot it too. He set to work again on his homestead. With his son's help he cut

wood for fuel for the winter. He and the women threshed the corn. Then he mended the thatch on the

outhouses, put the bees under cover, and handed over to his neighbour the ten hives he had sold him in

spring, and all the swarms that had come from them. His wife tried not to tell how many swarms there had

been from these hives, but Elisha knew well enough from which there had been swarms and from which not.

And instead of ten, he handed over seventeen swarms to his neighbour. Having got everything ready for the

winter, Elisha sent his son away to find work, while he himself took to platting shoes of bark, and hollowing

All that day while Elisha stopped behind in the hut with the sick people, Ef�m waited for him. He only went

on a little way before he sat down. He waited and waited, had a nap, woke up again, and again sat waiting;

but his comrade did not come. He gazed till his eyes ached. The sun was already sinking behind a tree, and

'Perhaps he has passed me,' thought Ef�m, 'or perhaps some one gave him a lift and he drove by while I slept,

and did not see me. But how could he help seeing me? One can see so far here in the steppe. Shall I go back?

Suppose he is on in front, we shall then miss each other completely and it will be still worse. I had better go

He came to a village, and told the watchman, if an old man of a certain description came along, to bring him

to the hut where Ef�m stopped. But Elisha did not turn up that night. Ef�m went on, asking all he met whether

they had not seen a little, baldheaded, old man? No one had seen such a traveller. Ef�m wondered, but went

'We shall be sure to meet in Odessa, or on board the ship,' and he did not trouble more about it.

On the way, he came across a pilgrim wearing a priest's coat, with long hair and a skullcap such as priests

wear. This pilgrim had been to Mount Athos, and was now going to Jerusalem for the second time. They both

stopped at the same place one night, and, having met, they travelled on together.

They got safely to Odessa, and there had to wait three days for a ship. Many pilgrims from many different

parts were in the same case. Again Ef�m asked about Elisha, but no one had seen him.

Ef�m got himself a foreign passport, which cost him five roubles. He paid forty roubles for a return ticket to

The pilgrim began explaining to Ef�m how he might get on to the ship without paying his fare; but Ef�m

The ship was freighted, and the pilgrims went on board, Ef�m and his new comrade among them. The anchors

All day they sailed smoothly, but towards night a wind arose, rain came on, and the vessel tossed about and

shipped water. The people were frightened: the women wailed and screamed, and some of the weaker men

ran about the ship looking for shelter. Ef�m too was frightened, but he would not show it, and remained at the

place on deck where he had settled down when first he came on board, beside some old men from Tambf.

There they sat silent, all night and all next day, holding on to their sacks. On the third day it grew calm, and

on the fifth day they anchored at Constantinople. Some of the pilgrims went on shore to visit the Church of

St. Sophia, now held by the Turks. Ef�m remained on the ship, and only bought some white bread. They lay

there for twentyfour hours, and then put to sea again. At Smyrna they stopped again; and at Alexandria; but

at last they arrived safely at Jaffa, where all the pilgrims had to disembark. From there still it was more than

forty miles by road to Jerusalem. When disembarking the people were again much frightened. The ship was

high, and the people were dropped into boats, which rocked so much that it was easy to miss them and fall

into the water. A couple of men did get a wetting, but at last all were safely landed.

They went on on foot, and at noon on the third day reached Jerusalem. They stopped outside the town, at the

Russian inn, where their passports were indorsed. Then, after dinner, Ef�m visited the Holy Places with his

companion, the pilgrim. It was not the time when they could be admitted to the Holy Sepulchre, but they

went to the Patriarchate. All the pilgrims assembled there. The women were separated from the men, who

were all told to sit in a circle, barefoot. Then a monk came in with a towel to wash their feet. He washed,

wiped, and then kissed their feet, and did this to every one in the circle. Ef�m's feet were washed and kissed,

with the rest. He stood through vespers and matins, prayed, placed candles at the shrines, handed in booklets

inscribed with his parents, names, that they might be mentioned in the church prayers. Here at the

Patriarchate food and wine were given them. Next morning they went to the cell of Mary of Egypt, where she

had lived doing penance. Here too they placed candles and had prayers read. From there they went to

Abraham's Monastery, and saw the place where Abraham intended to slay his son as an offering to God. Then

they visited the spot where Christ appeared to Mary Magdalene, and the Church of James, the Lord's brother.

The pilgrim showed Ef�m all these places, and told him how much money to give at each place. At midday

they returned to the inn and had dinner. As they were preparing to lie down and rest, the pilgrim cried out,

'My purse has been stolen, there were twentythree roubles in it,' said he, 'two tenrouble notes and the rest

He sighed and lamented a great deal, but as there was no help for it, they lay down to sleep.

'No one has stolen any money from this pilgrim,' thought he, 'I do not believe he had any. He gave none away

This thought had no sooner crossed his mind, than Ef�m rebuked himself, saying: 'What right have I to judge

a man? It is a sin. I will think no more about it.' But as soon as his thoughts began to wander, they turned

again to the pilgrim: how interested he seemed to be in money, and how unlikely it sounded when he declared

Towards evening they got up, and went to midnight Mass at the great Church of the Resurrection, where the

Lord's Sepulchre is. The pilgrim kept close to Ef�m and went with him everywhere. They came to the

Church; a great many pilgrims were there; some Russians and some of other nationalities: Greeks,

Armenians, Turks, and Syrians. Ef�m entered the Holy Gates with the crowd. A monk led them past the

Turkish sentinels, to the place where the Saviour was taken down from the cross and anointed, and where

candles were burning in nine great candlesticks. The monk showed and explained everything. Ef�m offered a

candle there. Then the monk led Ef�m to the right, up the steps to Golgotha, to the place where the cross had

stood. Ef�m prayed there. Then they showed him the cleft where the ground had been rent asunder to its

nethermost depths; then the place where Christ's hands and feet were nailed to the cross; then Adam's tomb,

where the blood of Christ had dripped on to Adam's bones. Then they showed him the stone on which Christ

sat when the crown of thorns was placed on His head; then the post to which Christ was bound when He was

scourged. Then Ef�m saw the stone with two holes for Christ's feet. They were going to show him something

else, but there was a stir in the crowd, and the people all hurried to the church of the Lord's Sepulchre itself.

The Latin Mass had just finished there, and the Russian Mass was beginning. And Ef�m went with the crowd

He tried to get rid of the pilgrim, against whom he was still sinning in his mind, but the pilgrim would not

leave him, but went with him to the Mass at the Holy Sepulchre. They tried to get to the front, but were too

late. There was such a crowd that it was impossible to move either backwards or forwards. Ef�m stood

looking in front of him, praying, and every now and then feeling for his purse. He was in two minds:

sometimes he thought that the pilgrim was deceiving him, and then again he thought that if the pilgrim spoke

the truth and his purse had really been stolen, the same thing might happen to himself.

Ef�m stood there gazing into the little chapel in which was the Holy Sepulchre itself with thirtysix lamps

burning above it. As he stood looking over the people's heads, he saw something that surprised him. Just

beneath the lamps in which the sacred fire burns and in front of every one, Ef�m saw an old man in a grey

'It is like him,' thought Ef�m, 'but it cannot be Elisha. He could not have got ahead of me. The ship before

ours started a week sooner. He could not have caught that; and he was not on ours, for I saw every pilgrim on

Hardly had Ef�m thought this, when the little old man began to pray, and bowed three times: once forwards to

God, then once on each side to the brethren. And as he turned his head to the right, Ef�m recognized him.

It was Elisha Bdrof himself with his dark, curly beard turning grey at the cheeks, with his brows, his eyes and

Ef�m was very pleased to have found his comrade again, and wondered how Elisha had got ahead of him.

'Well done, Elisha!' thought he. 'See how he has pushed ahead. He must have come across some one who

showed him the way. When we get out, I will find him, get rid of this fellow in the skullcap, and keep to

Ef�m kept looking out, so as not to lose sight of Elisha. But when the Mass was over, the crowd began to

sway, pushing forward to kiss the tomb, and pushed Ef�m aside. He was again seized with fear lest his purse

should be stolen. Pressing it with his hand, he began elbowing through the crowd, anxious only to get out.

When he reached the open, he went about for a long time searching for Elisha both outside and in the Church

itself. In the cells of the Church he saw many people of all kinds, eating, and drinking wine, and reading and

sleeping there. But Elisha was nowhere to be seen. So Ef�m returned to the inn without having found his

comrade. That evening the pilgrim in the skullcap did not turn up. He had gone off without repaying the

The next day Ef�m went to the Holy Sepulchre again, with an old man from Tambf, whom he had met on the

ship. He tried to get to the front, but was again pressed back; so he stood by a pillar and prayed. He looked

before him, and there in the foremost place under the lamps, close to the very Sepulchre of the Lord, stood

Elisha, with his arms spread out like a priest at the altar, and with his bald head all shining.

He pushed forward to the front, but when he got there, there was no Elisha: he had evidently gone away.

Again on the third day Ef�m looked, and saw at the Sepulchre, in the holiest place, Elisha standing in the

sight of all men, his arms outspread, and his eyes gazing upwards as if he saw something above. And his bald

'Well, this time,' thought Ef�m, 'he shall not escape me! I will go and stand at the door, then we can't miss one

Ef�m went out and stood by the door till past noon. Every one had passed out, but still Elisha did not appear.

Ef�m remained six weeks in Jerusalem, and went everywhere: to Bethlehem, and to Bethany, and to the

Jordan. He had a new shirt sealed at the Holy Sepulchre for his burial, and he took a bottle of water from the

Jordan, and some holy earth, and bought candles that had been lit at the sacred flame. In eight places he

inscribed names to be prayed for, and he spent all his money, except just enough to get home with. Then he

started homeward. He walked to Jaffa, sailed thence to Odessa, and walked home from there on foot.

Ef�m travelled the same road he had come by; and as he drew nearer home his former anxiety returned as to

how affairs were getting on in his absence. 'Much water flows away in a year,' the proverb says. It takes a

lifetime to build up a homestead, but not long to ruin it, thought he. And he wondered how his son had

managed without him, what sort of spring they were having, how the cattle had wintered, and whether the

cottage was well finished. When Ef�m came to the district where he had parted from Elisha the summer

before, he could hardly believe that the people living there were the same. The year before they had been

starving, but now they were living in comfort. The harvest had been good, and the people had recovered and

One evening Ef�m reached the very place where Elisha had remained behind; and as he entered the village, a

Ef�m meant to pass on, but the little girl would not let him. She took hold of his coat, laughing, and pulled

him towards the hut, where a woman with a small boy came out into the porch and beckoned to him.

'I may as well ask about Elisha,' he thought. 'I fancy this is the very hut he went to for a drink of water.'

The woman helped him off with the bag he carried, and gave him water to wash his face. Then she made him

sit down to table, and set milk, curdcakes and porridge before him. Ef�m thanked her, and praised her for

'We have good reason to welcome pilgrims,' she said. 'It was a pilgrim who showed us what life is. We were

living forgetful of God, and God punished us almost to death. We reached such a pass last summer, that we

all lay ill and helpless with nothing to eat. And we should have died, but that God sent an old man to help us

just such a one as you. He came in one day to ask for a drink of water, saw the state we were in, took pity

on us, and remained with us. He gave us food and drink, and set us on our feet again; and he redeemed our

'We don't know whether it was a man, or an angel from God. He loved us all, pitied us all, and went away

without telling us his name, so that we don't even know whom to pray for. I can see it all before me now!

There I lay waiting for death, when in comes a baldheaded old man. He was not anything much to look at,

and he asked for a drink of water. I, sinner that I am, thought to myself: "What does he come prowling about

here for?" And just think what he did! As soon as he saw us, he let down his bag, on this very spot, and

'No, Granny,' said she, 'first he put it down here in the middle of the hut, and then he lifted it on to the bench.'

And they began discussing and recalling all he had said and done, where he sat and slept, and what he had

At night the peasant himself came home on his horse, and he too began to tell about Elisha and how he had

'Had he not come we should all have died in our sins. We were dying in despair, murmuring against God and

man. But he set us on our feet again; and through him we learned to know God, and to believe that there is

good in man. May the Lord bless him! We used to live like animals; he made human beings of us.

After giving Ef�m food and drink, they showed him where he was to sleep; and lay down to sleep themselves.

But though Ef�m lay down, he could not sleep. He could not get Elisha out of his mind, but remembered how

'So that is how he got ahead of me,' thought Ef�m. 'God may or may not have accepted my pilgrimage but He

Next morning Ef�m bade farewell to the people, who put some patties in his sack before they went to their

Ef�m had been away just a year, and it was spring again when he reached home one evening. His son was not

at home, but had gone to the publichouse and when he came back, he had had a drop too much. Ef�m began

questioning him. Everything showed that the young fellow had been unsteady during his father's absence.

The money had all been wrongly spent, and the work had been neglected. The father began to upbraid the

'Why didn't you stay and look after it yourself?' he said. 'You go off, taking the money with you and now you

In the morning Ef�m went to the village Elder to complain of his son's conduct. As he was passing Elisha's

'How do you do, neighbour,' she said. 'How do you do, dear friend? Did you get to Jerusalem safely?'

'Yes, thank God,' he said. 'I have been there. I lost sight of your old man, but I hear he got home safely.'

'Yes, neighbour, he has come back,' said she. 'He's been back a long time. Soon after Assumption, I think it

was, he returned. And we were glad the Lord had sent him back to us! We were dull without him. We can't

expect much work from him any more, his years for work are past; but still he is the head of the household

and it's more cheerful when he's at home. And how glad our lad was! He said, "It's like being without

sunlight, when father's away!" It was dull without him, dear friend. We're fond of him, and take good care of

'He is, dear friend. He is with his bees. He is hiving the swarms. He says they are swarming well this year.

The Lord has given such strength to the bees that my husband doesn't remember the like. "The Lord is not

rewarding us according to our sins," he says. Come in, dear neighbour, he will be so glad to see you again.'

Ef�m passed through the passage into the yard and to the apiary, to see Elisha. There was Elisha in his grey

coat, without any facenet or gloves, standing, under the birch trees, looking upwards, his arms stretched out

and his bald head shining, as Ef�m had seen him at the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem: and above him the

sunlight shone through the birches as the flames of fire had done in the holy place, and the golden bees flew

Elisha looked round with a pleased face, and came towards Ef�m, gently picking bees out of his own beard.

'My feet walked there, and I have brought you some water from the river Jordan. You must come to my house

'My feet have been there, but whether my soul, or another's, has been there more truly . . .'

'God's business, neighbour, God's business! Come into the cottage, I'll give you some of our honey.' And

Ef�m sighed, and did not speak to Elisha of the people in the hut, nor of how he had seen him in Jerusalem.

But he now understood that the best way to keep one's vows to God and to do His will, is for each man while

IN a certain town there lived a cobbler, Martin Avdeiteh by name. He had a tiny room in a basement, the one

window of which looked out on to the street. Through it one could only see the feet of those who passed by,

but Martin recognized the people by their boots. He had lived long in the place and had many acquaintances.

There was hardly a pair of boots in the neighbourhood that had not been once or twice through his hands, so

he often saw his own handiwork through the window. Some he had resoled, some patched, some stitched

up, and to some he had even put fresh uppers. He had plenty to do, for he worked well, used good material,

did not charge too much, and could be relied on. If he could do a job by the day required, he undertook it; if

not, he told the truth and gave no false promises; so he was well known and never short of work.

Martin had always been a good man; but in his old age he began to think more about his soul and to draw

nearer to God. While he still worked for a master, before he set up on his own account, his wife had died,

leaving him with a threeyear old son. None of his elder children had lived, they had all died in infancy. At

first Martin thought of sending his little son to his sister's in the country, but then he felt sorry to part with the

boy, thinking: 'It would be hard for my little Kapitn to have to grow up in a strange family; I will keep him

Martin left his master and went into lodgings with his little son. But he had no luck with his children. No

sooner had the boy reached an age when he could help his father and be a support as well as a joy to him,

than he fell ill and, after being laid up for a week with a burning fever, died. Martin buried his son, and gave

way to despair so great and overwhelming that he murmured against God. In his sorrow he prayed again and

again that he too might die, reproaching God for having taken the son he loved, his only son while he, old as

One day an old man from Martin's native village who had been a pilgrim for the last eight years, called in on

his way from Tritsa Monastery. Martin opened his heart to him, and told him of his sorrow.

'I no longer even wish to live, holy man,' he said. 'All I ask of God is that I soon may die. I am now quite

The old man replied: 'You have no right to say such things, Martin. We cannot judge God's ways. Not our

reasoning, but God's will, decides. If God willed that your son should die and you should live, it must be best

so. As to your despair that comes because you wish to live for your own happiness.'

'For God, Martin,' said the old man. 'He gives you life, and you must live for Him. When you have learnt to

The old man answered: 'How one may live for God has been shown us by Christ. Can you read? Then buy the

Gospels, and read them: there you will see how God would have you live. You have it all there.'

These words sank deep into Martin's heart, and that same day he went and bought himself a Testament in

At first he meant only to read on holidays, but having once begun he found it made his heart so light that he

read every day. Sometimes he was so absorbed in his reading that the oil in his lamp burnt out before he

could tear himself away from the book. He continued to read every night, and the more he read the more

clearly he understood what God required of him, and how he might live for God. And his heart grew lighter

and lighter. Before, when he went to bed he used to lie with a heavy heart, moaning as he thought of his little

Kapitn; but now he only repeated again and again: 'Glory to Thee, glory to Thee, O Lord! Thy will be done!'

From that time Martin's whole life changed. Formerly, on holidays he used to go and have tea at the public

house, and did not even refuse a glass or two of vdka. Sometimes, after having had a drop with a friend, he

left the public house not drunk, but rather merry, and would say foolish things: shout at a man, or abuse him.

Now, all that sort of thing passed away from him. His life became peaceful and joyful. He sat down to his

work in the morning, and when he had finished his day's work he took the lamp down from the wall, stood it

on the table, fetched his book from the shelf, opened it, and sat down to read. The more he read the better he

It happened once that Martin sat up late, absorbed in his book. He was reading Luke's Gospel; and in the sixth

'To him that smiteth thee on the one cheek offer also the other; and from him that taketh away thy cloke

withhold not thy coat also. Give to every man that asketh thee; and of him that taketh away thy goods ask

them not again. And as ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise.'

'And why call ye me, Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say? Whosoever cometh to me, and heareth

my sayings, and doeth them, I will shew you to whom he is like: He is like a man which built an house, and

digged deep, and laid the foundation on a rock: and when the flood arose, the stream beat vehemently upon

that house, and could not shake it: for it was founded upon a rock. But he that heareth and doeth not, is like a

man that without a foundation built an house upon the earth, against which the stream did beat vehemently,

When Martin read these words his soul was glad within him. He took off his spectacles and laid them on the

book, and leaning his elbows on the table pondered over what he had read. He tried his own life by the

'Is my house built on the rock, or on sand? If it stands on the rock, it is well. It seems easy enough while one

sits here alone, and one thinks one has done all that God commands; but as soon as I cease to be on my guard,

He thought all this, and was about to go to bed, but was loth to leave his book. So he went on reading the

seventh chapter about the centurion, the widow's son, and the answer to John's disciples and he came

to the part where a rich Pharisee invited the Lord to his house; and he read how the woman who was a sinner,

anointed his feet and washed them with her tears, and how he justified her. Coming to the fortyfourth verse,

'And turning to the woman, he said unto Simon, Seest thou this woman? I entered into thine house thou

gavest me no water for my feet: but she hath wetted my feet with her tears, and wiped them with her hair.

Thou gavest me no kiss; but she, since the time I came in, hath not ceased to kiss my feet. My head with oil

He read these verses and thought: 'He gave no water for his feet, gave no kiss, his head with oil he did not

anoint. . . .' And Martin took off his spectacles once more, laid them on his book, and pondered.

'He must have been like me, that Pharisee. He too thought only of himself how to get a cup of tea, how to

keep warm and comfortable; never a thought of his guest. He took care of himself, but for his guest he cared

nothing at all. Yet who was the guest? The Lord himself! If he came to me, should I behave like that?'

Then Martin laid his head upon both his arms and, before he was aware of it, he fell asleep.

'Martin!' he suddenly heard a voice, as if some one had breathed the word above his ear.

He turned round and looked at the door; no one was there. He called again. Then he heard quite distinctly:

Martin roused himself, rose from his chair and rubbed his eyes, but did not know whether he had heard these

Next morning he rose before daylight, and after saying his prayers he lit the fire and prepared his cabbage

soup and buckwheat porridge. Then he lit the samovar, put on his apron, and sat down by the window to his

work. As he sat working Martin thought over what had happened the night before. At times it seemed to him

like a dream, and at times he thought that he had really heard the voice. 'Such things have happened before

So he sat by the window, looking out into the street more than he worked, and whenever any one passed in

unfamiliar boots he would stoop and look up, so as to see not the feet only but the face of the passerby as

well. A houseporter passed in new felt boots; then a watercarrier. Presently an old soldier of Nicholas'

reign came near the window spade in hand. Martin knew him by his boots, which were shabby old felt ones,

goloshed with leather. The old man was called Stepaniteh: a neighbouring tradesman kept him in his house

for charity, and his duty was to help the houseporter. He began to clear away the snow before Martin's

'I must be growing crazy with age,' said Martin, laughing at his fancy. 'Stepanitch comes to clear away the

snow, and I must needs imagine it's Christ coming to visit me. Old dotard that I am!'

Yet after he had made a dozen stitches he felt drawn to look out of the window again. He saw that Stepanitch

had leaned his spade against the wall, and was either resting himself or trying to get warm. The man was old

and broken down, and had evidently not enough strength even to clear away the snow.

'What if I called him in and gave him some tea?' thought Martin. 'The samovar is just on the boil.'

He stuck his awl in its place, and rose; and putting the samovar on the table, made tea. Then he tapped the

window with his fingers. Stepanitch turned and came to the window. Martin beckoned to him to come in, and

'May God bless you!' Stepanitch answered. 'My bones do ache to be sure.' He came in, first shaking off the

snow, and lest he should leave marks on the floor he began wiping his feet; but as he did so he tottered and

'Don't trouble to wipe your feet,' said Martin 'I'll wipe up the floor it's all in the day's work. Come, friend,

Filling two tumblers, he passed one to his visitor, and pouring his own out into the saucer, began to blow on

Stepaniteh emptied his glass, and, turning it upside down, put the remains of his piece of sugar on the top. He

began to express his thanks, but it was plain that he would be glad of some more.

'Have another glass,' said Martin, refilling the visitor's tumbler and his own. But while he drank his tea Martin

'Am I expecting any one? Well, now, I'm ashamed to tell you. It isn't that I really expect any one; but I heard

something last night which I can't get out of my mind Whether it was a vision, or only a fancy, I can't tell.

You see, friend, last night I was reading the Gospel, about Christ the Lord, how he suffered, and how he

'I have heard tell of it,' answered Stepanitch; 'but I'm an ignorant man and not able to read.'

'Well, you see, I was reading of how he walked on earth. I came to that part, you know, where he went to a

Pharisee who did not receive him well. Well, friend, as I read about it, I thought now that man did not receive

Christ the Lord with proper honour. Suppose such a thing could happen to such a man as myself, I thought,

what would I not do to receive him! But that man gave him no reception at all. Well, friend, as I was thinking

of this, I began to doze, and as I dozed I heard some one call me by name. I got up, and thought I heard some

one whispering, "Expect me; I will come tomorrow." This happened twice over. And to tell you the truth, it

sank so into my mind that, though I am ashamed of it myself, I keep on expecting him, the dear Lord!'

Stepanitch shook his head in silence, finished his tumbler and laid it on its side; but Martin stood it up again

'Here drink another glass, bless you! And I was thinking too, how he walked on earth and despised no one,

but went mostly among common folk. He went with plain people, and chose his disciples from among the

likes of us, from workmen like us, sinners that we are. "He who raises himself," he said, "shall be humbled

and he who humbles himself shall be raised." "You call me Lord," he said, "and I will wash your feet." "He

who would be first," he said, "let him be the servant of all; because," he said, "blessed are the poor, the

Stepanitch forgot his tea. He was an old man easily moved to tears, and as he sat and listened the tears ran

'Come, drink some more,' said Martin. But Stepanitch crossed himself, thanked him, moved away his

'Thank you, Martin Avdeitch,' he said, 'you have given me food and comfort both for soul and body.'

'You're very welcome. Come again another time. I am glad to have a guest,' said Martin.

Stepanitch went away; and Martin poured out the last of the tea and drank it up. Then he put away the tea

things and sat down to his work, stitching the back seam of a boot. And as he stitched he kept looking out of

the window, waiting for Christ, and thinking about him and his doings. And his head was full of Christ's

Two soldiers went by: one in Government boots the other in boots of his own; then the master of a

neighbouring house, in shining goloshes; then a baker carrying a basket. All these passed on. Then a woman

came up in worsted stockings and peasantmade shoes. She passed the window, but stopped by the wall.

Martin glanced up at her through the window, and saw that she was a stranger, poorly dressed, and with a

baby in her arms. She stopped by the wall with her back to the wind, trying to wrap the baby up though she

had hardly anything to wrap it in. The woman had only summer clothes on, and even they were shabby and

worn. Through the window Martin heard the baby crying, and the woman trying to soothe it, but unable to do

'Why do you stand out there with the baby in the cold? Come inside. You can wrap him up better in a warm

The woman was surprised to see an old man in an apron, with spectacles on his nose, calling to her, but she

They went down the steps, entered the little room, and the old man led her to the bed.

'Haven't any milk. I have eaten nothing myself since early morning,' said the woman, but still she took the

Martin shook his head. He brought out a basin and some bread. Then he opened the oven door and poured

some cabbage soup into the basin. He took out the porridge pot also but the porridge was not yet ready, so he

'Sit down and eat, my dear, and I'll mind the baby. Why, bless me, I've had children of my own; I know how

The woman crossed herself, and sitting down at the table began to eat, while Martin put the baby on the bed

and sat down by it. He chucked and chucked, but having no teeth he could not do it well and the baby

continued to cry. Then Martin tried poking at him with his finger; he drove his finger straight at the baby's

mouth and then quickly drew it back, and did this again and again. He did not let the baby take his finger in

its mouth, because it was all black with cobbler's wax. But the baby first grew quiet watching the finger, and

The woman sat eating and talking, and told him who she was, and where she had been.

'I'm a soldier's wife,' said she. 'They sent my husband somewhere, far away, eight months ago, and I have

heard nothing of him since. I had a place as cook till my baby was born, but then they would not keep me

with a child. For three months now I have been struggling, unable to find a place, and I've had to sell all I had

for food. I tried to go as a wetnurse, but no one would have me; they said I was too starvedlooking and

thin. Now I have just been to see a tradesman's wife (a woman from our village is in service with her) and she

has promised to take me. I thought it was all settled at last, but she tells me not to come till next week. It is far

to her place, and I am fagged out, and baby is quite starved, poor mite. Fortunately our landlady has pity on

'How could I get warm clothing?' said she. 'Why I pawned my last shawl for sixpence yesterday.'

Then the woman came and took the child, and Martin got up. He went and looked among some things that

'Here,' he said, 'though it's a wornout old thing, it will do to wrap him up in.'

The woman looked at the cloak, then at the old man, and taking it, burst into tears. Martin turned away, and

groping under the bed brought out a small trunk. He fumbled about in it, and again sat down opposite the

'The Lord bless you, friend. Surely Christ must have sent me to your window, else the child would have

frozen. It was mild when I started, but now see how cold it has turned. Surely it must have been Christ who

Martin smiled and said; 'It is quite true; it was he made me do it. It was no mere chance made me look out.'

And he told the woman his dream, and how he had heard the Lord's voice promising to visit him that day.

'Who knows? All things are possible,' said the woman. And she got up and threw the cloak over her

shoulders, wrapping it round herself and round the baby. Then she bowed, and thanked Martin once more.

'Take this for Christ's sake,' said Martin, and gave her sixpence to get her shawl out of pawn. The woman

After the woman had gone, Martin ate some cabbage soup, cleared the things away, and sat down to work

again. He sat and worked, but did not forget the window, and every time a shadow fell on it he looked up at

once to see who was passing. People he knew and strangers passed by, but no one remarkable.

After a while Martin saw an applewoman stop just in front of his window. She had a large basket, but there

did not seem to be many apples left in it; she had evidently sold most of her stock. On her back she had a sack

full of chips, which she was taking home. No doubt she had gathered them at some place where building was

going on. The sack evidently hurt her, and she wanted to shift it from one shoulder to the other, so she put it

down on the footpath and, placing her basket on a post, began to shake down the chips in the sack. While she

was doing this a boy in a tattered cap ran up, snatched an apple out of the basket, and tried to slip away; but

the old woman noticed it, and turning, caught the boy by his sleeve. He began to struggle, trying to free

himself, but the old woman held on with both hands, knocked his cap off his head, and seized hold of his

hair. The boy screamed and the old woman scolded. Martin dropped his awl, not waiting to stick it in its

place, and rushed out of the door. Stumbling up the steps, and dropping his spectacles in his hurry, he ran out

into the street. The old woman was pulling the boy's hair and scolding him, and threatening to take him to the

police. The lad was struggling and protesting, saying, 'I did not take it. What are you beating me for? Let me

Martin separated them. He took the boy by the hand and said, 'Let him go, Granny. Forgive him for Christ's

'I'll pay him out, so that he won't forget it for a year! I'll take the rascal to the police!'

'Ask the Granny's forgiveness!' said he. 'And don't do it another time. I saw you take the apple.'

'That's right. And now here's an apple for you, and Martin took an apple from the basket and gave it to the

'You will spoil them that way, the young rascals,' said the old woman. 'He ought to be whipped so that he

'Oh, Granny, Granny,' said Martin, 'that's our way but it's not God's way. If he should be whipped for

And Martin told her the parable of the lord who forgave his servant a large debt, and how the servant went

out and seized his debtor by the throat. The old woman listened to it all, and the boy, too, stood by and

'God bids us forgive,' said Martin, 'or else we shall not be forgiven. Forgive every one; and a thoughtless

'That's just what I say,' said the old woman. 'I have had seven of them myself, and only one daughter is left.'

And the old woman began to tell how and where she was living with her daughter, and how many

grandchildren she had. 'There now,' she said, 'I have but little strength left, yet I work hard for the sake of my

grandchildren; and nice children they are, too. No one comes out to meet me but the children. Little Annie,

now, won't leave me for any one. "It's grandmother, dear grandmother, darling grandmother."' And the old

'Of course, it was only his childishness, God help him,' said she, referring to the boy.

As the old woman was about to hoist her sack on her back, the lad sprang forward to her, saying, 'Let me

The old woman nodded her head, and put the sack on the boy's back, and they went down the street together,

the old woman quite forgetting to ask Martin to pay for the apple. Martin stood and watched them as they

When they were out of sight Martin went back to the house. Having found his spectacles unbroken on the

steps, he picked up his awl and sat down again to work. He worked a little, but could soon not see to pass the

bristle through the holes in the leather; and presently he noticed the lamplighter passing on his way to light

'Seems it's time to light up,' thought he. So he trimmed his lamp, hung it up, and sat down again to work. He

finished off one boot and, turning it about, examined it. It was all right. Then he gathered his tools together,

swept up the cuttings, put away the bristles and the thread and the awls, and, taking down the lamp, placed it

on the table. Then he took the Gospels from the shelf. He meant to open them at the place he had marked the

day before with a bit of morocco, but the book opened at another place. As Martin opened it, his yesterday's

dream came back to his mind, and no sooner had he thought of it than he seemed to hear footsteps, as though

some one were moving behind him. Martin turned round, and it seemed to him as if people were standing in

the dark corner, but he could not make out who they were. And a voice whispered in his ear: 'Martin, Martin,

'It is I,' said the voice. And out of the dark corner stepped Stepanitch, who smiled and vanishing like a cloud

'It is I,' said the voice again. And out of the darkness stepped the woman with the baby in her arms and the

'It is I,' said the voice once more. And the old woman and the boy with the apple stepped out and both smiled,

And Martin's soul grew glad. He crossed himself put on his spectacles, and began reading the Gospel just

'I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took

'Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of these my brethren even these least, ye did it unto me' (Matt. xxv).

And Martin understood that his dream had come true; and that the Saviour had really come to him that day,

ONCE upon a time, in a certain province of a certain country, there lived a rich peasant, who had three sons:

Simon the Soldier, Taras the Stout, and Ivan the Fool, besides an unmarried daughter, Martha, who was deaf

and dumb. Simon the Soldier went to the wars to serve the king; Taras the Stout went to a merchant's in town

to trade, and Ivan the Fool stayed at home with the lass, to till the ground till his back bent.

Simon the Soldier obtained high rank and an estate, and married a nobleman's daughter. His pay was large

and his estate was large, but yet he could not make ends meet. What the husband earned his lady wife

So Simon the Soldier went to his estate to collect the income, but his steward said, 'where is any income to

come from? We have neither cattle, nor tools, nor horse, nor plough, nor harrow. We must first get all these,

Then Simon the Soldier went to his father and said: 'You, father, are rich, but have given me nothing. Divide

But the old man said: 'You brought nothing into my house; why should I give you a third part? It would be

But Simon answered, 'He is a fool; and she is an old maid, and deaf and dumb besides; what's the good of

So Simon the Soldier took his share of his father's goods and removed them to his estate, and went off again

Taras the Stout also gathered much money, and married into a merchant's family, but still he wanted more. So

But the old man did not wish to give Taras a share either, and said, 'You brought nothing here. Ivan has

But Taras said, 'What does he need? He is a fool! He cannot marry, no one would have him; and the dumb

lass does not need anything either. Look here, Ivan!' said he, 'give me half the corn; I don't want the tools, and

of the live stock I will take only the grey stallion, which is of no use to you for the plough.'

So they gave a share to Taras also, and he carted the corn away to town, and took the grey stallion. And Ivan

was left with one old mare, to lead his peasant life as before, and to support his father and mother.

Now the old Devil was vexed that the brothers had not quarrelled over the division, but had parted peacefully;

'Look here,' said he, 'there are three brothers Simon the Soldier, Taras the Stout, and Ivan the Fool. They

should have quarrelled, but are living peaceably and meet on friendly terms. The fool Ivan has spoilt the

whole business for me. Now you three go and tackle those three brothers, and worry them till they scratch

'Why,' said they, 'first we'll ruin them. And when they haven't a crust to eat we'll tie them up together, and

'That's capital; I see you understand your business. Go, and don't come back till you've set them by the ears,

The imps went off into a swamp, and began to consider how they should set to work. They disputed and

disputed, each wanting the lightest job; but at last they decided to cast lots which of the brothers each imp

should tackle. If one imp finished his task before the others, he was to come and help them. So the imps cast

lots, and appointed a time to meet again in the swamp to learn who had succeeded and who needed help.

The appointed time came round, and the imps met again in the swamp as agreed. And each began to tell how

matters stood. The first, who had undertaken Simon the Soldier, began: 'My business is going on well.

'First,' says he, 'I made Simon so bold that he offered to conquer the whole world for his king; and the king

made him his general and sent him to fight the King of India. They met for battle, but the night before, I

damped all the powder in Simon's camp, and made more straw soldiers for the Indian King than you could

count. And when Simon's soldiers saw the straw soldiers surrounding them, they grew frightened. Simon

ordered them to fire; but their cannons and guns would not go off. Then Simon's soldiers were quite

frightened, and ran like sheep, and the Indian King slaughtered them. Simon was disgraced. He has been

deprived of his estate, and tomorrow they intend to execute him. There is only one day's work left for me to

do; I have just to let him out of prison that he may escape home. Tomorrow I shall be ready to help

Then the second imp, who had Taras in hand, began to tell how he had fared. 'I don't want any help,' said he,

'my job is going all right. Taras can't hold out for more than a week. First I caused him to grow greedy and

fat. His covetousness became so great that whatever he saw he wanted to buy. He has spent all his money in

buying immense lots of goods, and still continues to buy. Already he has begun to use borrowed money. His

debts hang like a weight round his neck, and he is so involved that he can never get clear. In a week his bills

come due, and before then I will spoil all his stock. He will be unable to pay and will have to go home to his

'Well,' said he, 'my affair goes badly. First I spat into his drink to make his stomach ache, and then I went into

his field and hammered the ground hard as a stone that he should not be able to till it. I thought he wouldn't

plough it, but like the fool that he is, he came with his plough and began to make a furrow. He groaned with

the pain in his stomach, but went on ploughing. I broke his plough for him, but he went home, got out

another, and again started ploughing. I crept under the earth and caught hold of the ploughshares, but there

was no holding them; he leant heavily upon the plough, and the ploughshare was sharp and cut my hands. He

has all but finished ploughing the field, only one little strip is left. Come brothers, and help me; for if we don't

get the better of him, all our labour is lost. If the fool holds out and keeps on working the land, his brothers

Ivan had ploughed up the whole fallow, all but one little strip. He came to finish it. Though his stomach

ached, the ploughing must be done. He freed the harness ropes, turned the plough, and began to work. He

drove one furrow, but coming back the plough began to drag as if it had caught in a root. It was the imp, who

'What a strange thing!' thought Ivan. 'There were no roots here at all, and yet here's a root.'

Ivan pushed his hand deep into the furrow, groped about, and, feeling something soft, seized hold of it and

pulled it out. It was black like a root, but it wriggled. Why, it was a live imp!

'What a nasty thing!' said Ivan, and he lifted his hand to dash it against the plough, but the imp squealed out:

The imp went down into the furrow, searched about scratched with his claws, and pulled out a bunch of three

Ivan took the roots, separated them, and swallowed one. The pain in his stomach was cured at once. The imp

again begged to be let off; 'I will jump right into the earth, and never come back,' said he.

And as soon as Ivan mentioned God, the imp plunged into the earth like a stone thrown into the water. Only a

Ivan put the other two pieces of root into his cap and went on with his ploughing. He ploughed the strip to the

end, turned his plough over, and went home. He unharnessed the horse, entered the hut, and there he saw his

elder brother, Simon the Soldier and his wife, sitting at supper. Simon's estate had been confiscated, he

himself had barely managed to escape from prison, and he had come back to live in his father's house.

Simon saw Ivan, and said: 'I have come to live with you. Feed me and my wife till I get another appointment.'

But when Ivan was about to sit down on the bench the lady disliked the smell, and said to her husband. 'I

So Simon the Soldier said, 'My lady says you don't smell nice. You'd better go and eat outside.'

'All right,' said Ivan; 'any way I must spend the night outside, for I have to pasture the mare.'

Having finished his work that night, Simon's imp came, as agreed, to find Ivan's imp and help him to subdue

the fool. He came to the field and searched and searched; but instead of his comrade he found only a hole.

'Clearly,' thought he, 'some evil has befallen my comrade. I must take his place. The field is ploughed up, so

So the imp went to the meadows and flooded Ivan's hayfield with water, which left the grass all covered with

Ivan returned from the pasture at dawn, sharpened his scythe, and went to mow the hayfield. He began to

mow but had only swung the scythe once or twice when the edge turned so that it would not cut at all, but

needed resharpening. Ivan struggled on for awhile, and then said: 'It's no good. I must go home and bring a

tool to straighten the scythe, and I'll get a chunk of bread at the same time. If I have to spend a week here, I

The imp heard this and thought to himself, 'This fool is a tough 'un; I can't get round him this way. I must try

Ivan returned, sharpened his scythe, and began to mow. The imp crept into the grass and began to catch the

scythe by the heel, sending the point into the earth. Ivan found the work very hard, but he mowed the whole

meadow, except one little bit which was in the swamp. The imp crept into the swamp and, thought he to

Ivan reached the swamp. The grass didn't seem thick, but yet it resisted the scythe. Ivan grew angry and

began to swing the scythe with all his might. The imp had to give in; he could not keep up with the scythe,

and, seeing it was a bad business, he scrambled into a bush. Ivan swung the scythe, caught the bush, and cut

off half the imp's tail. Then he finished mowing the grass, told his sister to rake it up, and went himself to

mow the rye. He went with the scythe, but the docktailed imp was there first, and entangled the rye so that

the scythe was of no use. But Ivan went home and got his sickle, and began to reap with that and he reaped

The docktailed imp heard this, and thought, 'I couldn't get the better of him on the rye, but I shall on the

In the morning the imp hurried to the oat field, but the oats were already mowed down! Ivan had mowed

'He has cut me all over and tired me out the fool. It is worse than war. The accursed fool never sleeps; one

So the imp entered the rye, and crept among the sheaves, and they began to rot. He heated them, grew warm

Ivan harnessed the mare, and went with the lass to cart the rye. He came to the heaps, and began to pitch the

rye into the cart. He tossed two sheaves and again thrust his fork right into the imp's back. He lifts the fork

and sees on the prongs a live imp; docktailed, struggling, wriggling, and trying to jump.

'I'm another,' said the imp. 'The first was my brother. I've been with your brother Simon.'

He was about to dash him against the cart, but the imp cried out: 'Let me off, and I will not only let you alone,

And the imp said, 'Here, take a sheaf of rye, then bump it upright on the ground, and simply say:

'O sheaf! my slave This order gave: Where a straw has been Let a soldier be seen!'

Ivan took the sheaf, struck it on the ground, and said what the imp had told him to. The sheaf fell asunder,

and all the straws changed into soldiers, with a trumpeter and a drummer playing in front, so that there was a

'No,' said Ivan, 'I must make my soldiers of thrashed straw, otherwise good grain will be wasted. Teach me

'Let each be a straw Who was soldier before, For my true slave This order gave!"'

'All right.' And Ivan pressed him against the side of the cart, held him down with his hand, and pulled him off

And as soon as he mentioned God, the imp plunged into the earth like a stone into water. Only a hole was

Ivan returned home, and there was his other brother, Taras with his wife, sitting at supper.

Taras the Stout had failed to pay his debts, had run away from his creditors, and had come home to his

father's house. When he saw Ivan, 'Look here', said he, 'till I can start in business again, I want you to keep

Ivan took off his coat and sat down to table, but the merchant's wife said: 'I cannot sit at table with this clown,

'All right,' said Ivan, taking some bread and going into the yard. 'It is time, anyhow, for me to go and pasture

Taras's imp, being also free that night, came, as agreed, to help his comrades subdue Ivan the Fool. He came

to the cornfield, looked and looked for his comrades no one was there. He only found a hole. He went to

the meadow, and there he found an imp's tail in the swamp, and another hole in the rye stubble.

'Evidently, some illluck has befallen my comrades,' thought he. 'I must take their place and tackle the fool.'

So the imp went to look for Ivan, who had already stacked the corn and was cutting trees in the wood. The

two brothers had begun to feel crowded, living together, and had told Ivan to cut down trees to build new

The imp ran to the wood, climbed among the branches, and began to hinder Ivan from felling the trees. Ivan

undercut one tree so that it should fall clear, but in falling it turned askew and caught among some branches.

Ivan cut a pole with which to lever it aside, and with difficulty contrived to bring it to the ground. He set to

work to fell another tree again the same thing occurred; and with all his efforts he could hardly get the tree

Ivan had hoped to cut down half a hundred small trees, but had not felled even half a score, and now the night

was come and he was tired out. The steam from him spread like a mist through the wood, but still he stuck to

his work. He undercut another tree, but his back began to ache so that he could not stand. He drove his axe

'At last,' thought he, 'he is tired out! He will give it up. Now I can take a rest myself.'

He seated himself astride a branch and chuckled. But soon Ivan got up, pulled the axe out, swung it and

smote the tree from the opposite side with such force that the tree gave way at once and came crashing down.

The imp had not expected this, and had no time to get his feet clear, and the tree in breaking, gripped his paw.

Ivan began to lop off the branches, when he noticed a live imp hanging in the tree! Ivan was surprised.

'Whoever you are you have met your fate,' said Ivan, and swinging his axe he was about to strike him with

the haft, but the imp begged for mercy: 'Don't strike me,' said he, 'and I will do anything you tell me to.'

'Take,' said he, 'some leaves from this oak and rub them in your hands, and gold will fall out on the ground.'

'This stuff will do fine,' said he, 'for the fellows to play with on their holidays.'

'All right,' said Ivan, and taking a lever he set the imp free. 'Now begone! And God be with you,' says he.

And as soon as he mentioned God, the imp plunged into the earth, like a stone into water. Only a hole was

So the brothers built houses, and began to live apart; and Ivan finished the harvest work, brewed beer, and

invited his brothers to spend the next holiday with him. His brothers would not come.

So Ivan entertained the peasants and their wives, and drank until he was rather tipsy. Then he went into the

street to a ring of dancers; and going up to them he told the women to sing a song in his honour; 'for,' said he,

The women laughed and sang his praises, and when they had finished they said, 'Now let us have your gift.'

He took a seedbasket and ran into the woods. The women laughed. 'He is a fool!' said they, and they began

Ivan took a handful of gold and threw it to the women. You should have seen them throw themselves upon it

to pick it up! And the men around scrambled for it, and snatched it from one another. One old woman was

'Oh, you fools!' says he. 'Why did you crush the old grandmother? Be quiet, and I will give you some more,'

and he threw them some more. The people all crowded round, and Ivan threw them all the gold he had. They

asked for more, but Ivan said, 'I have no more just now. Another time I'll give you some more. Now let us

He went to the barn, took a sheaf, thrashed it, stood it up, and bumped it on the ground.

'O sheaf! my slave This order gave: Where a straw has been Let a soldier be seen!'

And the sheaf fell asunder and became so many soldiers. The drums and trumpets began to play. Ivan ordered

the soldiers to play and sing. He led them out into the street, and the people were amazed, The soldiers played

and sang, and then Ivan (forbidding any one to follow him) led them back to the thrashing ground, changed

Simon the Soldier heard of all these things next morning, and went to his brother.

'Tell me,' says he, 'where you got those soldiers from, and where you have taken them to?'

'What does it matter? Why, with soldiers one can do anything. One can win a kingdom.'

'Really!' said he; 'Why didn't you say so before? I'll make you as many as you like. It's well the lass and I

'Look here; if I make you some soldiers, you must take them away at once, for if we have to feed them, they

Simon the Soldier promised to lead the soldiers away; and Ivan began to make them. He bumped a sheaf on

the thrashing floor a company appeared. He bumped another sheaf, and there was a second company. He

'All right' said Ivan. 'If you want more, come back, and I'll make them. There is plenty of straw this season.'

Simon the Soldier at once took command of his army, collected and organized it, and went off to make war.

Hardly had Simon the Soldier gone, when Taras the Stout came along. He, too, had heard of yesterday's

'Show me where you get gold money! If I only had some to start with, I could make it bring me in money

'Really!' said he. 'You should have told me sooner. I will make you as much as you like.'

'All right,' said Ivan. 'Come into the forest; or better still, let us harness the mare, for you won't be able to

They drove to the forest, and Ivan began to rub the oak leaves. He made a great heap of gold.

'All right,' says Ivan, 'if you want more, come back for it. There are plenty of leaves left.'

So the two brothers went away: Simon to fight and Taras to buy and sell. And Simon the Soldier conquered a

When the two brothers met, each told the other: Simon how he got the soldiers, and Taras how he got the

money. And Simon the Soldier said to his brother, I have conquered a kingdom and live in grand style but I

And Taras the Stout said, 'And I have made much money, but the trouble is, I have no one to guard it.'

Then said Simon the Soldier, 'Let us go to our brother. I will tell him to make more soldiers, and will give

them to you to guard your money, and you can tell him to make money for me to feed my men.

And they drove away to Ivan; and Simon said, 'Dear brother, I have not enough soldiers; make me another

'Because your soldiers killed a man. I was ploughing the other day near the road, and I saw a woman taking a

coffin along in a cart, and crying. I asked her who was dead. She said, "Simon's soldiers have killed my

husband in the war." I thought the soldiers would only play tunes, but they have killed a man. I won't give

Taras the Stout, too, began to beg Ivan to make him more gold money. But Ivan shook his head.

'Simply took it away! Michael's daughter had a cow. Her children used to drink the milk. But the other day

her children came to me to ask for milk. I said, "Where's your cow?" They answered, "The steward of Taras

the Stout came and gave mother three bits of gold, and she gave him the cow, so we have nothing to drink." I

thought you were only going to play with the gold pieces, but you have taken the children's cow away. I will

And Ivan stuck to it and would not give him any more. So the brothers went away. And as they went they

'Look here, I tell you what to do. You give me money to feed my soldiers, and I will give you half my

kingdom with soldiers enough to guard your money.' Taras agreed. So the brothers divided what they

Ivan lived at home, supporting his father and mother and working in the fields with his dumb sister. Now it

happened that Ivan's yarddog fell sick, grew mangy, and was near dying. Ivan, pitying it, got some bread

from his sister, put it in his cap, carried it out, and threw it to the dog. But the cap was torn, and together with

the bread one of the little roots fell to the ground. The old dog ate it up with the bread, and as soon as she had

swallowed it she jumped up and began to play, bark, and wag her tail in short became quite well again.

Ivan answered: 'I had two little roots to cure any pain, and she swallowed one.'

Now about that time it happened that the King's daughter fell ill, and the King proclaimed in every town and

village, that he would reward any one who could heal her, and if any unmarried man could heal the King's

daughter he should have her for his wife. This was proclaimed in Ivan's village as well as everywhere else.

His father and mother called Ivan, and said to him: 'Have you heard what the King has proclaimed? You said

you had a root that would cure any sickness. Go and heal the King's daughter, and you will be made happy

And Ivan prepared to go, and they dressed him in his best. But as he went out of the door he met a beggar

'I have heard,' said she, 'that you can heal people. I pray you cure my arm, for I cannot even put on my boots

'All right,' said Ivan, and giving the little root to the beggar woman he told her to swallow it. She swallowed

His father and mother came out to accompany Ivan to the King, but when they heard that he had given away

the root, and that he had nothing left to cure the King's daughter with, they began to scold him.

'You pity a beggar woman, but are not sorry for the King's daughter!' said they. But Ivan felt sorry for the

King's daughter also. So he harnessed the horse, put straw in the cart to sit on, and sat down to drive away.

He drove to the King's palace, and as soon as he stepped on the threshold the King's daughter got well.

The King was delighted, and had Ivan brought to him, and had him dressed in fine robes.

And Ivan married the Princess. Her father died soon after, and Ivan became King. So all three brothers were

The three brothers lived and reigned. The eldest brother, Simon the Soldier, prospered. With his straw

soldiers he levied real soldiers. He ordered throughout his whole kingdom a levy of one soldier from every

ten houses, and each soldier had to be tall, and clean in body and in face. He gathered many such soldiers and

trained them; and when any one opposed him, he sent these soldiers at once, and got his own way, so that

every one began to fear him, and his life was a comfortable one. Whatever he cast his eyes on and wished for,

Taras the Stout also lived comfortably. He did not waste the money he got from Ivan, but increased it largely.

He introduced law and order into his kingdom. He kept his money in coffers, and taxed the people. He

instituted a polltax, tolls for walking and driving, and a tax on shoes and stockings and dress trimmings.

And whatever he wished for he got. For the sake of money, people brought him everything, and they offered

Ivan the Fool, also, did not live badly. As soon as he had buried his fatherinlaw, he took off all his royal

robes and gave them to his wife to put away in a chest; and he again donned his hempen shirt, his breeches

'It's dull for me,' said he. 'I'm getting fat and have lost my appetite and my sleep.' So he brought his father and

'All right; let them not serve. They will have more time to work; let them cart manure. There is plenty of

And people came to Ivan to be tried. One said. 'He stole my money.' And Ivan said, 'All right, that shows that

And they all got to know that Ivan was a fool. And his wife said to him, 'People say that you are a fool.'

'Shall I go against my husband? Where the needle goes the thread follows,' said she.

So she took off her royal dress, put it away in a chest, and went to the dumb girl to learn to work. And she

Nobody had money. They lived and worked. They fed themselves; and they fed others.

The old Devil waited and waited for news from the imps of their having ruined the three brothers. But no

news came. So he went himself to inquire about it. He searched and searched, but instead of finding the three

So he went to look for the brothers, but they were no longer in their old places. He found them in three

different kingdoms. All three were living and reigning. This annoyed the old Devil very much.

First he went to King Simon. He did not go to him in his own shape, but disguised himself as a general, and

'I hear, King Simon,' said he, 'that you are a great warrior, and as I know that business well, I desire to serve

King Simon questioned him, and seeing that he was a wise man, took him into his service.

'First,' said he, 'we must levy more soldiers, for there are in your kingdom many people unemployed. We

must recruit all the young men without exception. Then you will have five times as many soldiers as

formerly. Secondly, we must get new rifles and cannons. I will introduce rifles that will fire a hundred balls at

once; they will fly out like peas. And I will get cannons that will consume with fire either man, or horse, or

Simon the King listened to the new commander, ordered all young men without exception to be enrolled as

soldiers, and had new factories built in which he manufactured large quantities of improved rifles and

cannons. Then he made haste to declare war against a neighbouring king. As soon as he met the other army,

King Simon ordered his soldiers to rain balls against it and shoot fire from the cannons, and at one blow he

burned and crippled half the enemy's army. The neighbouring king was so thoroughly frightened that he gave

But the Indian King had heard about King Simon and had adopted all his inventions, and added more of his

own. The Indian King enlisted not only all the young men, but all the single women also, and got together a

greater army even than King Simon's. And he copied all King Simon's rifles and cannons, and invented a way

King Simon set out to fight the Indian King, expecting to beat him as he had beaten the other king; but the

scythe that had cut so well had lost its edge. The King of India did not let Simon's army come within gunshot,

but sent his women through the air to hurl down explosive bombs on to Simon's army. The women began to

rain down bombs on to the army like borax upon cockroaches. The army ran away, and Simon the King was

left alone. So the Indian King took Simon's kingdom, and Simon the Soldier fled as best he might.

Having finished with this brother, the old Devil went to King Taras. Changing himself into a merchant, he

settled in Taras's kingdom, started a house of business, and began spending money. He paid high prices for

everything, and everybody hurried to the new merchant's to get money. And so much money spread among

the people that they began to pay all their taxes promptly, and paid up all their arrears, and King Taras

'Thanks to the new merchant,' thought he, 'I shall have more money than ever; and my life will be yet more

And Taras the King began to form fresh plans, and began to build a new palace. He gave notice that people

should bring him wood and stone, and come to work, and he fixed high prices for everything. King Taras

thought people would come in crowds to work as before, but to his surprise all the wood and stone was taken

to the merchant's, and all the workmen went there too. King Taras increased his price, but the merchant bid

yet more. King Taras had much money, but the merchant had still more, and outbid the King at every point.

King Taras planned a garden, and when autumn came he called for the people to come and plant the garden,

but nobody came. All the people were engaged digging a pond for the merchant. Winter came, and King

Taras wanted to buy sable furs for a new overcoat. He sent to buy them, but the messengers returned and said,

'There are no sables left. The merchant has all the furs. He gave the best price, and made carpets of the skins.'

King Taras wanted to buy some stallions. He sent to buy them, but the messengers returned saying, 'The

All the King's affairs came to a standstill. Nobody would work for him, for every one was busy working for

the merchant; and they only brought King Taras the merchant's money to pay their taxes.

And the King collected so much money that he had nowhere to store it, and his life became wretched. He

ceased to form plans, and would have been glad enough simply to live, but he was hardly able even to do

that. He ran short of everything. One after another his cooks, coachmen, and servants left him to go to the

merchant. Soon he lacked even food. When he sent to the market to buy anything, there was nothing to be got

the merchant had bought up everything, and people only brought the King money to pay their taxes.

Taras the King got angry and banished the merchant from the country. But the merchant settled just across

the frontier, and went on as before. For the sake of the merchant's money, people took everything to him

Things went badly with King Taras. For days together he had nothing to eat, and a rumour even got about

that the merchant was boasting that he would buy up the King himself! King Taras got frightened, and did not

At this time Simon the Soldier came to him, saying, 'Help me, for the King of India has conquered me.'

But King Taras himself was over head and ears in difficulties. 'I myself,' said he, 'have had nothing to eat for

Having done with the two brothers, the old Devil went to Ivan. He changed himself into a General, and

'It does not become a king,' said he, 'to be without an army. Only give me the order, and I will collect soldiers

Ivan listened to him. 'All right,' said Ivan, 'form an army, and teach them to sing songs well. I like to hear

So the old Devil went through Ivan's kingdom to enlist men. He told them to go and be entered as soldiers,

'We have plenty of spirits,' said they. 'We make it ourselves; and as for caps, the women make all kinds of

The old Devil came to Ivan and said: 'Your fools won't enlist of their own free will. We shall have to make

So the old Devil gave notice that all the people were to enlist, and that Ivan would put to death any one who

The people came to the General and said, 'You say that if we do not go as soldiers the King will put us to

death, but you don't say what will happen if we do enlist. We have heard say that soldiers get killed!'

'Fools! You are fools!' said the old Devil. 'A soldier may be killed or he may not, but if you don't go, King

'A General has come,' said they, 'who says we must all become soldiers. "If you go as soldiers," says he "you

may be killed or you may not, but if you don't go, King Ivan will certainly kill you." Is this true?'

Ivan laughed and said, 'How can I, alone, put all you to death? If I were not a fool I would explain it to you

So the people went to the General and refused to enlist. And the old Devil saw that this game was up, and he

'Let us make war,' says he, 'and conquer King Ivan's country. It is true there is no money, but there is plenty

So the King of Tarakan prepared to make war. He mustered a great army, provided rifles and cannons,

And people came to Ivan and said, 'The King of Tarakan is coming to make war on us.'

Having crossed the frontier, the King of Tarakan sent scouts to look for Ivan's army. They looked and looked,

but there was no army! They waited and waited for one to appear somewhere, but there were no signs of an

army, and nobody to fight with. The King of Tarakan then sent to seize the villages. The soldiers came to a

village, and the people, both men and women, rushed out in astonishment to stare at the soldiers. The soldiers

began to take their corn and cattle; the people let them have it, and did not resist. The soldiers went on to

another village; the same thing happened again. The soldiers went on for one day, and for two days, and

everywhere the same thing happened. The people let them have everything, and no one resisted, but only

'Poor fellows,' said they, 'if you have a hard life in your own land, why don't you come and stay with us

The soldiers marched and marched: still no army, only people living and feeding themselves and others, and

not resisting, but inviting the soldiers to stay and live with them. The soldiers found it dull work, and they

came to the King of Tarakan and said, 'We cannot fight here, lead us elsewhere. War is all right, but what is

The King of Tarakan grew angry, and ordered his soldiers to overrun the whole kingdom, to destroy the

villages, to burn the grain and the houses, and to slaughter the cattle. 'And if you do not obey my orders,' said

The soldiers were frightened, and began to act according to the King's orders. They began to burn houses and

corn, and to kill cattle. But the fools still offered no resistance, and only wept. The old men wept, and the old

'Why do you harm us?' they said. 'Why do you waste good things? If you need them, why do you not take

At last the soldiers could stand it no longer. They refused to go any further, and the army disbanded and fled.

The old Devil had to give it up. He could not get the better of Ivan with soldiers. So he changed himself into

a fine gentleman, and settled down in Ivan's kingdom. He meant to overcome him by means of money, as he

'I wish,' says he, 'to do you a good turn, to teach you sense and reason. I will build a house among you and

Next morning the fine gentleman went out into the public square with a big sack of gold and a sheet of paper,

and said, 'You all live like swine. I wish to teach you how to live properly. Build me a house according to this

plan. You shall work, I will tell you how, and I will pay you with gold coins.' And he showed them the gold.

The fools were astonished; there was no money in use among them; they bartered their goods, and paid one

And they began to exchange their goods and labour for the gentleman's gold pieces. And the old Devil began,

as in Taras's kingdom, to be free with his gold, and the people began to exchange everything for gold and to

The old Devil was delighted, and thought he to himself, 'Things are going right this time. Now I shall ruin the

But as soon as the fools had provided themselves with gold pieces they gave them to the women for

necklaces. The lasses plaited them into their tresses, and at last the children in the street began to play with

the little pieces. Everybody had plenty of them, and they stopped taking them. But the fine gentleman's

mansion was not yet halfbuilt, and the grain and cattle for the year were not yet provided. So he gave notice

that he wished people to come and work for him, and that he wanted cattle and grain; for each thing, and for

But nobody came to work and nothing was brought. Only sometimes a boy or a little girl would run up to

exchange an egg for a gold coin, but nobody else came, and he had nothing to eat. And being hungry, the fine

gentleman went through the village to try and buy something for dinner. He tried at one house, and offered a

'I don't want it, my good sir,' said she. 'I have no children to play with it, and I myself already have three

He tried at a peasant's house to get bread, but neither would the peasant take money.

'I don't need it,' said he, 'but if you are begging "for Christ's sake[15]," wait a bit and I'll tell the housewife to

At that the Devil spat, and ran away. To hear Christ's name mentioned, let alone receiving anything for

And so he got no bread. Every one had gold, and no matter where the old Devil went, nobody would give

anything for money, but every one said, 'Either bring something else, or come and work, or receive what you

But the old Devil had nothing but money; for work he had no liking, and as for taking anything 'for Christ's

'What more do you want, when I give you money?' said he. 'You can buy everything with gold, and hire any

'No, we do not want money,' said they. 'We have no payments to make, and no taxes, so what should we do

The affair was told to Ivan the Fool. People came and asked him, 'What are we to do? A fine gentleman has

turned up, who likes to eat and drink and dress well, but he does not like to work, does not beg in "Christ's

name," but only offers gold pieces to every one. At first people gave him all he wanted until they had plenty

of gold pieces, but now no one gives him anything. What's to be done with him? He will die of hunger before

'All right,' says he, 'we must feed him. Let him live by turn at each house as a shepherd[16] does.'

In due course the turn came for him to go to Ivan's house. The old Devil came in to dinner, and the dumb girl

She had often been deceived by lazy folk who came early to dinner without having done their share of

work and ate up all the porridge, so it had occurred to her to find out the sluggards by their hands. Those

who had horny hands, she put at the table, but the others got only the scraps that were left over.

The old Devil sat down at the table, but the dumb girl seized him by the hands and looked at them there

were no hard places there: the hands were clean and smooth, with long nails. The dumb girl gave a grunt and

pulled the Devil away from the table. And Ivan's wife said to him, 'Don't be offended, fine gentleman. My

sisterinlaw does not allow any one to come to table who hasn't horny hands. But wait awhile, after the folk

The old Devil was offended that in the King's house they wished him to feed like a pig. He said to Ivan, 'It is

a foolish law you have in your kingdom that every one must work with his hands. It's your stupidity that

invented it. Do people work only with their hands? What do you think wise men work with?'

And Ivan said, 'How are we fools to know? We do most of our work with our hands and our backs.'

'That is because you are fools! But I will teach you how to work with the head. Then you will know that it is

And the old Devil went on. 'Only it is not easy to work with one's head. You give me nothing to eat, because I

have no hard places on my hands, but you do not know that it is a hundred times more difficult to work with

'Why, then, friend, do you torture yourself so? Is it pleasant when the head splits? Would it not be better to do

But the Devil said, 'I do it all out of pity for you fools. If I didn't torture myself you would remain fools for

'Do teach us!' said he, 'so that when our hands get cramped we may use our heads for a change.'

And the Devil promised to teach the people. So Ivan gave notice throughout the kingdom that a fine

gentleman had come who would teach everybody how to work with their heads; that with the head more

could be done than with the hands; and that the people ought all to come and learn.

Now there was in Ivan's kingdom a high tower, with many steps leading up to a lantern on the top. And Ivan

So the gentleman took his place on the top of the tower and began to speak, and the people came together to

see him. They thought the gentleman would really show them how to work with the head without using the

hands. But the old Devil only taught them in many words how they might live without working. The people

could make nothing of it. They looked and considered, and at last went off to attend to their affairs.

The old Devil stood on the tower a whole day, and after that a second day, talking all the time. But standing

there so long he grew hungry, and the fools never thought of taking food to him up in the tower. They

thought that if he could work with his head better than with his hands, he could at any rate easily provide

The old Devil stood on the top of the tower yet another day, talking away. People came near, looked on for

The old Devil stood on the tower one day more, but he began to grow weak, so that he staggered and hit his

head against one of the pillars of the lantern. One of the people noticed it and told Ivan's wife, and she ran to

'Come and look,' said she. 'They say the gentleman is beginning to work with his head.'

'Really?' says he, and he turned his horse round, and went to the tower. And by the time he reached the tower

the old Devil was quite exhausted with hunger, and was staggering and knocking his head against the pillars.

And just as Ivan arrived at the tower, the Devil stumbled, fell, and came bump, bump, bump, straight down

'Well!' says Ivan, 'the fine gentleman told the truth when he said that "sometimes one's head quite splits."

This is worse than blisters; after such work there will be swellings on the head.'

The old Devil tumbled out at the foot of the stairs, and struck his head against the ground. Ivan was about to

go up to him to see how much work he had done when suddenly the earth opened and the old Devil fell

'What a nasty thing,' says he. 'It's one of those devils again! What a whopper! He must be the father of them

Ivan is still living, and people crowd to his kingdom. His own brothers have come to live with him, and he

feeds them, too. To every one who comes and says 'Give me food!' Ivan says, 'All right. You can stay with

Only there is one special custom in his kingdom; whoever has horny hands comes to table, but whoever has

THERE lived in olden times a good and kindly man. He had this world's goods in abundance, and many

'There is no better lord than ours under the sun. He feeds and clothes us well, and gives us work suited to our

strength. He bears no malice and never speaks a harsh word to any one. He is not like other masters, who

treat their slaves worse than cattle: punishing them whether they deserve it or not, and never giving them a

friendly word. He wishes us well, does good, and speaks kindly to us. We do not wish for a better life.'

Thus the slaves praised their lord, and the Devil, seeing it, was vexed that slaves should live in such love and

harmony with their master. So getting one of them, whose name was Aleb, into his power, the Devil ordered

him to tempt the other slaves. And one day, when they were all sitting together resting and talking of their

'It is stupid to make so much of our master's goodness. The Devil himself would be kind to you, if you did

what he wanted. We serve our master well, and humour him in all things. As soon as he thinks of anything,

we do it: foreseeing all his wishes. What can he do but be kind to us? Just try how it will be if, instead of

humouring him, we do him some harm instead. He will act like any one else, and will repay evil for evil, as

The other slaves began denying what Aleb had said and at last bet with him. Aleb undertook to make their

master angry. If he failed, he was to lose his holiday garment; but if he succeeded, the other slaves were to

give him theirs. Moreover, they promised to defend him against the master, and to set him free if he should be

put in chains or imprisoned. Having arranged this bet, Aleb agreed to make his master angry next morning.

Aleb was a shepherd, and had in his charge a number of valuable, purebred sheep, of which his master was

very fond. Next morning, when the master brought some visitors into the inclosure to show them the valuable

All the other slaves assembled, looking in at the gates or over the fence, and the Devil climbed a tree near by

to see how his servant would do his work. The master walked about the inclosure, showing his guests the

'All the rams are valuable,' said he, 'but I have one with closely twisted horns, which is priceless. I prize him

Startled by the strangers, the sheep rushed about the inclosure, so that the visitors could not get a good look at

the ram. As soon as it stood still, Aleb startled the sheep as if by accident, and they all got mixed up again.

The visitors could not make out which was the priceless ram. At last the master got tired of it.

'Aleb, dear friend,' he said, 'pray catch our best ram for me, the one with the tightly twisted horns. Catch him

Scarcely had the master said this, when Aleb rushed in among the sheep like a lion, and clutched the priceless

ram. Holding him fast by the wool, he seized the left hind leg with one hand, and, before his master's eyes,

lifted it and jerked it so that it snapped like a dry branch. He had broken the ram's leg and it fell bleating on to

its knees. Then Aleb seized the right hind leg, while the left twisted round and hung quite limp. The visitors

and the slaves exclaimed in dismay, and the Devil, sitting up in the tree, rejoiced that Aleb had done his task

so cleverly. The master looked as black as thunder, frowned, bent his head, and did not say a word. The

visitors and the slaves were silent, too, waiting to see what would follow. After remaining silent for a while,

the master shook himself as if to throw off some burden. Then he lifted his head, and raising his eyes

heavenward, remained so for a short time. Presently the wrinkles passed from his face, and he looked down at

'Oh, Aleb, Aleb! Your master bade you anger me; but my master is stronger than yours. I am not angry with

you, but I will make your master angry. You are afraid that I shall punish you, and you have been wishing for

your freedom. Know, then, Aleb, that I shall not punish you; but, as you wish to be free, here, before my

guests, I set you free. Go where you like, and take your holiday garment with you!'

And the kind master returned with his guests to the house; but the Devil, grinding his teeth, fell down from

IT was an early Easter. Sledging was only just over; snow still lay in the yards; and water ran in streams

Two little girls from different houses happened to meet in a lane between two homesteads, where the dirty

water after running through the farmyards had formed a large puddle. One girl was very small, the other a

little bigger. Their mothers had dressed them both in new frocks. The little one wore a blue frock the other a

yellow print, and both had red kerchiefs on their heads. They had just come from church when they met, and

first they showed each other their finery, and then they began to play. Soon the fancy took them to splash

about in the water, and the smaller one was going to step into the puddle, shoes and all, when the elder

'Don't go in so, Malasha,' said she, 'your mother will scold you. I will take off my shoes and stockings, and

They did so, and then, picking up their skirts, began walking towards each other through the puddle. The

She had hardly said this, when Malasha plumped down her foot so that the water splashed right on to

Ako�lya's frock. The frock was splashed, and so were Ako�lya's eyes and nose. When she saw the stains on

her frock, she was angry and ran after Malasha to strike her. Malasha was frightened, and seeing that she had

got herself into trouble, she scrambled out of the puddle, and prepared to run home. Just then Ako�lya's

mother happened to be passing, and seeing that her daughter's skirt was splashed, and her sleeves dirty, she

At this Ako�lya's mother seized Malasha, and struck her on the back of her neck. Malasha began to howl so

'What are you beating my girl for?' said she; and began scolding her neighbour. One word led to another and

they had an angry quarrel. The men came out and a crowd collected in the street, every one shouting and no

one listening. They all went on quarrelling, till one gave another a push, and the affair had very nearly come

to blows, when Ako�lya's old grandmother, stepping in among them, tried to calm them.

'What are you thinking of, friends? Is it right to behave so? On a day like this, too! It is a time for rejoicing,

They would not listen to the old woman and nearly knocked her off her feet. And she would not have been

able to quiet the crowd, if it had not been for Ako�lya and Malasha themselves. While the women were

abusing each other, Ako�lya had wiped the mud off her frock, and gone back to the puddle. She took a stone

and began scraping away the earth in front of the puddle to make a channel through which the water could

run out into the street. Presently Malasha joined her, and with a chip of wood helped her dig the channel. Just

as the men were beginning to fight, the water from the little girls' channel ran streaming into the street

towards the very place where the old woman was trying to pacify the men. The girls followed it; one running

'Catch it, Malasha! Catch it!' shouted Ako�lya; while Malasha could not speak for laughing.

Highly delighted, and watching the chip float along on their stream, the little girls ran straight into the group

'Are you not ashamed of yourselves? To go fighting on account of these lassies, when they themselves have

forgotten all about it, and are playing happily together. Dear little souls! They are wiser than you!'

The men looked at the little girls, and were ashamed, and, laughing at themselves, went back each to his own

'Except ye turn, and become as little children, ye shall in no wise enter into the kingdom of heaven.'

THERE once lived, in the Government of Oufa a Bashk�r named Ilyas. His father, who died a year after he

had found his son a wife, did not leave him much property. Ilyas then had only seven mares, two cows, and

about a score of sheep. He was a good manager, however, and soon began to acquire more. He and his wife

worked from morn till night; rising earlier than others and going later to bed; and his possessions increased

year by year. Living in this way, Ilyas little by little acquired great wealth. At the end of thirtyfive years he

had 200 horses, 150 head of cattle, and 1,200 sheep. Hired labourers tended his flocks and herds, and hired

women milked his mares and cows, and made kumiss[17], butter and cheese. Ilyas had abundance of

'Ilyas is a fortunate man: he has plenty of everything. This world must be a pleasant place for him.'

People of position heard of Ilyas and sought his acquaintance. Visitors came to him from afar; and he

welcomed every one, and gave them food and drink. Whoever might come, there was always kumiss, tea,

sherbet, and mutton to set before them. Whenever visitors arrived a sheep would be killed, or sometimes two;

Ilyas had three children: two sons and a daughter; and he married them all off. While he was poor, his sons

worked with him, and looked after the flocks and herds themselves; but when he grew rich they got spoiled

and one of them took to drink. The eldest was killed in a brawl; and the younger, who had married a

selfwilled woman, ceased to obey his father, and they could not live together any more.

So they parted, and Ilyas gave his son a house and some of the cattle; and this diminished his wealth. Soon

after that, a disease broke out among Ilyas's sheep, and many died. Then followed a bad harvest, and the hay

crop failed; and many cattle died that winter. Then the Kirgh�z captured his best herd of horses; and Ilyas's

property dwindled away. It became smaller and smaller, while at the same time his strength grew less; till, by

the time he was seventy years old, he had begun to sell his furs, carpets, saddles, and tents. At last he had to

part with his remaining cattle, and found himself face to face with want. Before he knew how it had

happened, he had lost everything, and in their old age he and his wife had to go into service. Ilyas had

nothing left, except the clothes on his back, a fur cloak, a cup, his indoor shoes and overshoes, and his wife,

ShamShemagi, who also was old by this time. The son who had parted from him had gone into a far

country, and his daughter was dead, so that there was no one to help the old couple.

Their neighbour, MuhammadShah, took pity on them. MuhammadShah was neither rich nor poor, but

lived comfortably, and was a good man. He remembered Ilyas's hospitality, and pitying him, said:

'Come and live with me, Ilyas, you and your old woman. In summer you can work in my melongarden as

much as your strength allows, and in winter feed my cattle; and ShamShemagi shall milk my mares and

make kumiss. I will feed and clothe you both. When you need anything, tell me, and you shall have it.'

Ilyas thanked his neighbour, and he and his wife took service with MuhammadShah as labourers. At first

the position seemed hard to them, but they got used to it, and lived on, working as much as their strength

MuhammadShah found it was to his advantage to keep such people, because, having been masters

themselves, they knew how to manage and were not lazy, but did all the work they could. Yet it grieved

It happened once that some of MuhammadShah's relatives came from a great distance to visit him, and a

Mullah came too. MuhammadShah told Ilyas to catch a sheep and kill it. Ilyas skinned the sheep, and boiled

it, and sent it in to the guests. The guests ate the mutton, had some tea, and then began drinking kumiss. As

they were sitting with their host on down cushions on a carpet, conversing and sipping kumiss from their

cups, Ilyas, having finished his work passed by the open door. MuhammadShah, seeing him pass, said to

'Only this that he was once the richest man among us,' replied the host. 'His name is Ilyas. You may have

'Of course I have heard of him,' the guest answered 'I never saw him before, but his fame has spread far and

'Yes, and now he has nothing left,' said MuhammadShah, 'and he lives with me as my labourer, and his old

'Fortune turns like a wheel. One man it lifts, another it sets down! Does not the old man grieve over all he has

'May I speak to him?' asked the guest. 'I should like to ask him about his life.'

'Why not?' replied the master, and he called from the kib�tka[18] in which they were sitting:

'Babay;' (which in the Bashkir tongue means 'Grandfather ') 'come in and have a cup of kumiss with us, and

Ilyas entered with his wife; and after exchanging greetings with his master and the guests, he repeated a

prayer, and seated himself near the door. His wife passed in behind the curtain and sat down with her

A Cap of kumiss was handed to Ilyas; he wished the guests and his master good health, bowed, drank a little,

'Well, Daddy,' said the guest who had wished to speak to him, 'I suppose you feel rather sad at the sight of us.

'If I were to tell you what is happiness and what is misfortune, you would not believe me. You had better ask

my wife. She is a woman, and what is in her heart is on her tongue. She will tell you the whole truth.'

'Well, Granny,' he cried, 'tell me how your former happiness compares with your present misfortune.'

'This is what I think about it: My old man and I lived for fifty years seeking happiness and not finding it; and

it is only now, these last two years, since we had nothing left and have lived as labourers, that we have found

The guests were astonished, and so was the master; he even rose and drew the curtain back, so as to see the

old woman's face. There she stood with her arms folded, looking at her old husband, and smiling; and he

'I speak the truth and do not jest. For half a century we sought for happiness, and as long as we were rich we

never found it. Now that we have nothing left, and have taken service as labourers, we have found such

'Why, in this,' she replied, 'when we were rich my husband and I had so many cares that we had no time to

talk to one another, or to think of our souls, or to pray to God. Now we had visitors, and had to consider what

food to set before them, and what presents to give them, lest they should speak ill of us. When they left, we

had to look after our labourers who were always trying to shirk work and get the best food, while we wanted

to get all we could out of them. So we sinned. Then we were in fear lest a wolf should kill a foal or a calf, or

thieves steal our horses. We lay awake at night, worrying lest the ewes should overlie their lambs, and we got

up again and again to see that all was well. One thing attended to, another care would spring up: how, for

instance, to get enough fodder for the winter. And besides that, my old man and I used to disagree. He would

say we must do so and so, and I would differ from him; and then we disputed sinning again. So we passed

'Now, when my husband and I wake in the morning, we always have a loving word for one another and we

live peacefully, having nothing to quarrel about. We have no care but how best to serve our master. We work

as much as our strength allows and do it with a will, that our master may not lose but profit by us. When we

come in, dinner or supper is ready and there is kumiss to drink. We have fuel to burn when it is cold and we

have our fur cloak. And we have time to talk, time to think of our souls, and time to pray. For fifty years we

'Do not laugh, friends. It is not a matter for jesting it is the truth of life. We also were foolish at first, and

wept at the loss of our wealth; but now God has shown us the truth, and we tell it, not for our own

'That is a wise speech. Ilyas has spoken the exact truth. The same is said in Holy Writ.'

'And in praying use not vain repetitions, as the Gentiles do: for they think that they shall be heard for their

much speaking. Be not therefore like unto them: for your Father knoweth what things ye have need of, before

A BISHOP was sailing from Archangel to the Solovetsk Monastery; and on the same vessel were a number

of pilgrims on their way to visit the shrines at that place. The voyage was a smooth one. The wind favourable,

and the weather fair. The pilgrims lay on deck, eating, or sat in groups talking to one another. The Bishop,

too, came on deck, and as he was pacing up and down, he noticed a group of men standing near the prow and

listening to a fisherman who was pointing to the sea and telling them something. The Bishop stopped, and

looked in the direction in which the man was pointing. He could see nothing however, but the sea glistening

in the sunshine. He drew nearer to listen, but when the man saw him, he took off his cap and was silent. The

'Do not let me disturb you, friends,' said the Bishop. 'I came to hear what this good man was saying.'

'The fisherman was telling us about the hermits,' replied one, a tradesman, rather bolder than the rest.

'What hermits?' asked the Bishop, going to the side of the vessel and seating himself on a box. 'Tell me about

'Why, that little island you can just see over there,' answered the man, pointing to a spot ahead and a little to

the right. 'That is the island where the hermits live for the salvation of their souls.'

'There, in the distance, if you will please look along my hand. Do you see that little cloud? Below it and a bit

The Bishop looked carefully, but his unaccustomed eyes could make out nothing but the water shimmering in

'They are holy men,' answered the fisherman. 'I had long heard tell of them, but never chanced to see them

And the fisherman related how once, when he was out fishing, he had been stranded at night upon that island,

not knowing where he was. In the morning, as he wandered about the island, he came across an earth hut, and

met an old man standing near it. Presently two others came out, and after having fed him, and dried his

'One is a small man and his back is bent. He wears a priest's cassock and is very old; he must be more than a

hundred, I should say. He is so old that the white of his beard is taking a greenish tinge, but he is always

smiling, and his face is as bright as an angel's from heaven. The second is taller, but he also is very old. He

wears tattered, peasant coat. His beard is broad, and of a yellowish grey colour. He is a strong man. Before I

had time to help him, he turned my boat over as if it were only a pail. He too, is kindly and cheerful. The

third is tall, and has a beard as white as snow and reaching to his knees. He is stern, with overhanging

'For the most part they did everything in silence and spoke but little even to one another. One of them would

just give a glance, and the others would understand him. I asked the tallest whether they had lived there long.

He frowned, and muttered something as if he were angry; but the oldest one took his hand and smiled, and

then the tall one was quiet. The oldest one only said: "Have mercy upon us," and smiled.'

'There, now you can see it plainly, if your Grace will please to look,' said the tradesman, pointing with his

The Bishop looked, and now he really saw a dark streak which was the island. Having looked at it a while,

'Is it true that there are hermits who live there for the salvation of their souls?'

'So it is said, your Grace, but I don't know if it's true. Fishermen say they have seen them; but of course they

'I should like to land on the island and see these men,' said the Bishop. 'How could I manage it?'

'The ship cannot get close to the island,' replied the helmsman, 'but you might be rowed there in a boat. You

'I should like to see these hermits,' said the Bishop. 'Could I not be rowed ashore?'

'Of course it could be done,' said he, 'but we should lose much time. And if I might venture to say so to your

Grace, the old men are not worth your pains. I have heard say that they are foolish old fellows, who

'I wish to see them,' said the Bishop, 'and I will pay you for your trouble and loss of time. Please let me have

There was no help for it; so the order was given. The sailors trimmed the sails, the steersman put up the helm,

and the ship's course was set for the island. A chair was placed at the prow for the Bishop, and he sat there,

looking ahead. The passengers all collected at the prow, and gazed at the island. Those who had the sharpest

eyes could presently make out the rocks on it, and then a mud hut was seen. At last one man saw the hermits

themselves. The captain brought a telescope and, after looking through it, handed it to the Bishop.

'It's right enough. There are three men standing on the shore. There, a little to the right of that big rock.'

The Bishop took the telescope, got it into position, and he saw the three men: a tall one, a shorter one, and

one very small and bent, standing on the shore and holding each other by the hand.

'The vessel can get no nearer in than this, your Grace. If you wish to go ashore, we must ask you to go in the

The cable was quickly let out, the anchor cast, and the sails furled. There was a jerk, and the vessel shook.

Then a boat having been lowered, the oarsmen jumped in, and the Bishop descended the ladder and took his

seat. The men pulled at their oars, and the boat moved rapidly towards the island. When they came within a

stone's throw they saw three old men: a tall one with only a mat tied round his waist: a shorter one in a

tattered peasant coat, and a very old one bent with age and wearing an old cassock all three standing hand

The oarsmen pulled in to the shore, and held on with the boathook while the Bishop got out.

The old men bowed to him, and he gave them his benediction, at which they bowed still lower. Then the

'I have heard,' he said, 'that you, godly men, live here saving your own souls, and praying to our Lord Christ

for your fellow men. I, an unworthy servant of Christ, am called, by God's mercy, to keep and teach His

flock. I wished to see you, servants of God, and to do what I can to teach you, also.'

'Tell me,' said the Bishop, 'what you are doing to save your souls, and how you serve God on this island.'

The second hermit sighed, and looked at the oldest, the very ancient one. The latter smiled, and said:

'We do not know how to serve God. We only serve and support ourselves, servant of God.'

'We pray in this way,' replied the hermit. 'Three are ye, three are we, have mercy upon us.'

And when the old man said this, all three raised their eyes to heaven, and repeated:

'You have evidently heard something about the Holy Trinity,' said he. 'But you do not pray aright. You have

won my affection, godly men. I see you wish to please the Lord, but you do not know how to serve Him. That

is not the way to pray; but listen to me, and I will teach you. I will teach you, not a way of my own, but the

And the Bishop began explaining to the hermits how God had revealed Himself to men; telling them of God

'God the Son came down on earth,' said he, 'to save men, and this is how He taught us all to pray. Listen and

And the first old man repeated after him, 'Our Father,' and the second said, 'Our Father,' and the third said,

The first hermit repeated, 'Which art in heaven,' but the second blundered over the words, and the tall hermit

could not say them properly. His hair had grown over his mouth so that he could not speak plainly. The very

The Bishop repeated the words again, and the old men repeated them after him. The Bishop sat down on a

stone, and the old men stood before him, watching his mouth, and repeating the words as he uttered them.

And all day long the Bishop laboured, saying a word twenty, thirty, a hundred times over, and the old men

repeated it after him. They blundered, and he corrected them, and made them begin again.

The Bishop did not leave off till he had taught them the whole of the Lord's prayer so that they could not only

repeat it after him, but could say it by themselves. The middle one was the first to know it, and to repeat the

whole of it alone. The Bishop made him say it again and again, and at last the others could say it too.

It was getting dark, and the moon was appearing over the water, before the Bishop rose to return to the vessel.

When he took leave of the old men, they all bowed down to the ground before him. He raised them, and

kissed each of them, telling them to pray as he had taught them. Then he got into the boat and returned to the

And as he sat in the boat and was rowed to the ship he could hear the three voices of the hermits loudly

repeating the Lord's prayer. As the boat drew near the vessel their voices could no longer be heard, but they

could still be seen in the moonlight, standing as he had left them on the shore, the shortest in the middle, the

tallest on the right, the middle one on the left. As soon as the Bishop had reached the vessel and got on board,

the anchor was weighed and the sails unfurled. The wind filled them, and the ship sailed away, and the

Bishop took a seat in the stern and watched the island they had left. For a time he could still see the hermits,

but presently they disappeared from sight, though the island was still visible. At last it too vanished, and only

The pilgrims lay down to sleep, and all was quiet on deck. The Bishop did not wish to sleep, but sat alone at

the stern, gazing at the sea where the island was no longer visible, and thinking of the good old men. He

thought how pleased they had been to learn the Lord's prayer; and he thanked God for having sent him to

So the Bishop sat, thinking, and gazing at the sea where the island had disappeared. And the moonlight

flickered before his eyes, sparkling, now here, now there, upon the waves. Suddenly he saw something white

and shining, on the bright path which the moon cast across the sea. Was it a seagull, or the little gleaming sail

'It must be a boat sailing after us,' thought he 'but it is overtaking us very rapidly. It was far, far away a

minute ago, but now it is much nearer. It cannot be a boat, for I can see no sail; but whatever it may be, it is

And he could not make out what it was. Not a boat, nor a bird, nor a fish! It was too large for a man, and

besides a man could not be out there in the midst of the sea. The Bishop rose, and said to the helmsman:

'Look there, what is that, my friend? What is it?' the Bishop repeated, though he could now see plainly what it

was the three hermits running upon the water, all gleaming white, their grey beards shining, and

'Oh Lord! The hermits are running after us on the water as though it were dry land!'

The passengers hearing him, jumped up, and crowded to the stern. They saw the hermits coming along hand

in hand, and the two outer ones beckoning the ship to stop. All three were gliding along upon the water

without moving their feet. Before the ship could be stopped, the hermits had reached it, and raising their

'We have forgotten your teaching, servant of God. As long as we kept repeating it we remembered, but when

we stopped saying it for a time, a word dropped out, and now it has all gone to pieces. We can remember

'Your own prayer will reach the Lord, men of God. It is not for me to teach you. Pray for us sinners.

And the Bishop bowed low before the old men; and they turned and went back across the sea. And a light

A POOR peasant set out early one morning to plough, taking with him for his breakfast a crust of bread. He

got his plough ready, wrapped the bread in his coat, put it under a bush, and set to work. After a while when

his horse was tired and he was hungry, the peasant fixed the plough, let the horse loose to graze and went to

He lifted the coat, but the bread was gone! He looked and looked, turned the coat over, shook it out but

'That's strange,' thought he; 'I saw no one, but all the same some one has been here and has taken the bread!'

It was an imp who had stolen the bread while the peasant was ploughing, and at that moment he was sitting

The peasant was sorry to lose his breakfast, but 'It can't be helped,' said he. 'After all, I shan't die of hunger!

And he went to the well, had a drink of water, and rested a bit. Then he caught his horse, harnessed it, and

The imp was crestfallen at not having made the peasant sin, and he went to report what had happened to the

He came to the Devil and told how he had taken the peasant's bread, and how the peasant instead of cursing

The Devil was angry, and replied: 'If the man got the better of you, it was your own fault you don't

understand your business! If the peasants, and their wives after them, take to that sort of thing, it will be all

up with us. The matter can't be left like that! Go back at once,' said he, 'and put things right. If in three years

The imp was frightened. He scampered back to earth, thinking how he could redeem his fault. He thought and

He turned himself into a labouring man, and went and took service with the poor peasant. The first year he

advised the peasant to sow corn in a marshy place. The peasant took his advice, and sowed in the marsh. The

year turned out a very dry one, and the crops of the other peasants were all scorched by the sun, but the poor

peasant's corn grew thick and tall and fulleared. Not only had he grain enough to last him for the whole

The next year the imp advised the peasant to sow on the hill; and it turned out a wet summer. Other people's

corn was beaten down and rotted and the ears did not fill; but the peasant's crop, up on the hill, was a fine

one. He had more grain left over than before, so that he did not know what to do with it all.

Then the imp showed the peasant how he could mash the grain and distil spirit from it; and the peasant made

So the imp went to the Devil, his master, and boasted that he had made up for his failure. The Devil said that

He came to the peasant's house, and saw that the peasant had invited his welltodo neighbours and was

treating them to drink. His wife was offering the drink to the guests, and as she handed it round she tumbled

The peasant was angry, and scolded his wife: 'What do you mean, you slut? Do you think it's ditchwater, you

The imp nudged the Devil, his master, with his elbow: 'See,' said he, 'that's the man who did not grudge his

The peasant, still railing at his wife, began to carry the drink round himself. Just then a poor peasant returning

from work came in uninvited. He greeted the company, sat down, and saw that they were drinking. Tired with

his day's work he felt that he too would like a drop. He sat and sat, and his mouth kept watering, but the host

instead of offering him any only muttered: 'I can't find drink for every one who comes along.'

This pleased the Devil; but the imp chuckled and said, 'Wait a bit, there's more to come yet!'

The rich peasants drank, and their host drank too. And they began to make false, oily speeches to one another.

'If,' said he, 'the drink makes them so foxy that they begin to cheat each other, they will soon all be in our

'Wait for what's coming,' said the imp. 'Let them have another glass all round. Now they are like foxes,

wagging their tails and trying to get round one another; but presently you will see them like savage wolves.'

The peasants had another glass each, and their talk became wilder and rougher. Instead of oily speeches they

began to abuse and snarl at one another. Soon they took to fighting, and punched one another's noses. And the

The Devil looked on and was much pleased at all this. 'This is firstrate!' said he.

But the imp replied: 'Wait a bit the best is yet to come. Wait till they have had a third glass. Now they are

raging like wolves, but let them have one more glass, and they will be like swine.'

The peasants had their third glass, and became quite like brutes. They muttered and shouted, not knowing

Then the party began to break up. Some went alone, some in twos, and some in threes, all staggering down

the street. The host went out to speed his guests, but he fell on his nose into a puddle, smeared himself from

'Well,' said he, 'you have hit on a firstrate drink, and have quite made up for your blunder about the bread.

But now tell me how this drink is made. You must first have put in fox's blood: that was what made the

peasants sly as foxes. Then, I suppose, you added wolf's blood: that is what made them fierce like wolves.

And you must have finished off with swine's blood, to make them behave like swine.'

'No,' said the imp, 'that was not the way I did it. All I did was to see that the peasant had more corn than he

needed. The blood of the beasts is always in man; but as long as he has only enough corn for his needs, it is

kept in bounds. While that was the case, the peasant did not grudge his last crust. But when he had corn left

over, he looked for ways of getting pleasure out of it. And I showed him a pleasure drinking! And when

he began to turn God's good gifts into spirits for his own pleasure the fox's, wolf's and swine's blood in

The Devil praised the imp, forgave him for his former blunder, and advanced him to a post of high honour.

AN elder sister came to visit her younger sister in the country. The elder was married to a tradesman in town,

the younger to a peasant in the village. As the sisters sat over their tea talking, the elder began to boast of the

advantages of town life: saying how comfortably they lived there, how well they dressed, what fine clothes

her children wore what good things they ate and drank, and how she went to the theatre, promenades, and

The younger sister was piqued, and in turn disparage the life of a tradesman, and stood up for that of a

'I would not change my way of life for yours,' said she. We may live roughly, but at least we are free from

anxiety. You live in better style than we do but though you often earn more than you need, you are very likely

to lose all you have. You know the proverb, "Loss and gain are brothers twain." It often happens that people

who are wealthy one day are begging their bread the next. Our way is safer. Though a peasant's life is not a

fat one, it is a long one. We shall never grow rich, but we shall always have enough to eat.'

'Enough? Yes, if you like to share with the pigs and the calves! What do you know of elegance or manners!

However much your goodman may slave, you will die as you are living on a dung heap and your

'Well, what of that?' replied the younger. 'Of course our work is rough and coarse. But, on the other hand, it is

sure; and we need not bow to any one. But you, in your towns, are surrounded by temptations; today all may

be right, but tomorrow the Evil One may tempt your husband with cards, wine, or women, and all will go to

Pahm, the master of the house, was lying on the top of the oven, and he listened to the women's chatter.

'It is perfectly true,' thought he. 'Busy as we are from childhood tilling mother earth, we peasants have no

time to let any nonsense settle in our heads. Our only trouble is that we haven't land enough. If I had plenty of

The women finished their tea, chatted a while about dress, and then cleared away the teathings and lay down

But the Devil had been sitting behind the oven, and had heard all that was said. He was pleased that the

peasant's wife had led her husband into boasting, and that he had said that if he had plenty of land he would

'All right,' thought the Devil. 'We will have a tussle. I'll give you land enough; and by means of that land I

Close to the village there lived a lady, a small landowner, who had an estate of about three hundred acres[19].

She had always lived on good terms with the peasants, until she engaged as her steward an old soldier, who

took to burdening the people with fines. However careful Pahm tried to be, it happened again and again that

now a horse of his got among the lady's oats, now a cow strayed into her garden, now his calves found their

Pahm paid up, but grumbled, and, going home in a temper, was rough with his family. All through that

summer, Pahm had much trouble because of this steward; and he was even glad when winter came and the

cattle had to be stabled. Though he grudged the fodder when they could no longer graze on the pastureland,

In the winter the news got about that the lady was going to sell her land, and that the keeper of the inn on the

high road was bargaining for it. When the peasants heard this they were very much alarmed.

'Well', thought they, 'if the innkeeper gets the land, he will worry us with fines worse than the lady's steward.

So the peasants went on behalf of their Commune and asked the lady not to sell the land to the innkeeper

offering her a better price for it themselves. The lady agreed to let them have it. Then the peasants tried to

arrange for the Commune to buy the whole estate so that it might be held by them all in common. They met

twice to discuss it, but could not settle the matter; the Evil One sowed discord among them, and they could

not agree. So they decided to buy the land individually, each according to his means; and the lady agreed to

Presently Pahm heard that a neighbour of his was buying fifty acres, and that the lady had consented to accept

'Look at that,' thought he, 'the land is all being sold, and I shall get none of it.' So he spoke to his wife.

'Other people are buying,' said he, 'and we must also buy twenty acres or so. Life is becoming impossible.

So they put their heads together and considered how they could manage to buy it. They had one hundred

roubles laid by. They sold a colt, and one half of their bees; hired out one of their sons as a labourer, and took

his wages in advance; borrowed the rest from a brotherinlaw, and so scraped together half the purchase

Having done this, Pahm chose out a farm of forty acres, some of it wooded, and went to the lady to bargain

for it. They came to an agreement, and he shook hands with her upon it, and paid her a deposit in advance.

Then they went to town and signed the deeds; he paying half the price down, and undertaking to pay the

So now Pahm had land of his own. He borrowed seed, and sowed it on the land he had bought. The harvest

was a good one, and within a year he had managed to pay off his debts both to the lady and to his

brotherinlaw. So he became a landowner, ploughing and sowing his own land, making hay on his own

land, cutting his own trees, and feeding his cattle on his own pasture. When he went out to plough his fields,

or to look at his growing corn, or at his grassmeadows, his heart would fill with joy. The grass that grew and

the flowers that bloomed there, seemed to him unlike any that grew elsewhere. Formerly, when he had passed

by that land it had appeared the same as any other land, but now it seemed quite different.

So Pahm was wellcontented, and everything would have been right if the neighbouring peasants would only

not have trespassed on his cornfields and meadows. He appealed to them most civilly, but they still went on:

now the Communal herdsmen would let the village cows stray into his meadows; then horses from the night

pasture would get among his corn. Pahm turned them out again and again, and forgave their owners, and for a

long time he forbore from prosecuting any one. But at last he lost patience and complained to the District

Court. He knew it was the peasants' want of land, and no evil intent on their part, that caused the trouble; but

'I cannot go on overlooking it, or they will destroy all I have. They must be taught a lesson.'

So he had them up, gave them one lesson, and then another, and two or three of the peasants were fined. After

a time Pahm's neighbours began to bear him a grudge for this, and would now and then let their cattle on to

his land on purpose. One peasant even got into Pahm's wood at night and cut down five young lime trees for

their bark. Pahm passing through the wood one day noticed something white. He came nearer, and saw the

stripped trunks lying on the ground, and close by stood the stumps, where the trees had been. Pahm was

'If he had only cut one here and there it would have been bad enough,' thought Pahm, 'but the rascal has

actually cut down a whole clump. If I could only find out who did this, I would pay him out.'

He racked his brains as to who it could be. Finally he decided: 'It must be Simon no one else could have

done it.' So he went to Simon's homestead to have a look round, but he found nothing, and only had an angry

scene. However, he now felt more certain than ever that Simon had done it, and he lodged a complaint.

Simon was summoned. The case was tried, and retried, and at the end of it all Simon was acquitted, there

being no evidence against him. Pahm felt still more aggrieved, and let his anger loose upon the Elder and the

'You let thieves grease your palms,' said he. 'If you were honest folk yourselves, you would not let a thief go

So Pahm quarrelled with the Judges and with his neighbours. Threats to burn his building began to be uttered.

So though Pahm had more land, his place in the Commune was much worse than before.

'There's no need for me to leave my land,' thought Pahm. 'But some of the others might leave our village and

then there would be more room for us. I would take over their land myself, and make my estate a bit bigger. I

could then live more at ease. As it is, I am still too cramped to be comfortable.

One day Pahm was sitting at home, when a peasant, passing through the village, happened to call in. He was

allowed to stay the night, and supper was given him. Pahm had a talk with this peasant and asked him where

he came from. The stranger answered that he came from beyond the Volga, where he had been working. One

word led to another, and the man went on to say that many people were settling in those parts. He told how

some people from his village had settled there. They had joined the Commune, and had had twentyfive

acres per man granted them. The land was so good, he said, that the rye sown on it grew as high as a horse,

and so thick that five cuts of a sickle made a sheaf. One peasant, he said, had brought nothing with him but

'Why should I suffer in this narrow hole, if one can live so well elsewhere? I will sell my land and my

homestead here, and with the money I will start afresh over there and get everything new. In this crowded

place one is always having trouble. But I must first go and find out all about it myself.

Towards summer he got ready and started. He went down the Volga on a steamer to Samara, then walked

another three hundred miles on foot, and at last reached the place. It was just as the stranger had said. The

peasants had plenty of land: every man had twentyfive acres of Communal land given him for his use, and

any one who had money could buy, besides, at two shillings an acre[20] as much good freehold land as he

Having found out all he wished to know, Pahm returned home as autumn came on, and began selling off his

belongings. He sold his land at a profit, sold his homestead and all his cattle, and withdrew from membership

of the Commune. He only waited till the spring, and then started with his family for the new settlement.

As soon as Pahm and his family arrived at their new abode, he applied for admission into the Commune of a

large village. He stood treat to the Elders, and obtained the necessary documents. Five shares of Communal

land were given him for his own and his sons' use: that is to say 125 acres (not all together but in different

fields) besides the use of the Communal pasture. Pahm put up the buildings he needed, and bought cattle. Of

the Communal land alone he had three times as much as at his former home, and the land was good

cornland. He was ten times better off than he had been. He had plenty of arable land and pasturage, and

At first, in the bustle of building and settling down, Pahm was pleased with it all, but when he got used to it

he began to think that even here he had not enough land. The first year, he sowed wheat on his share of the

Communal land, and had a good crop. He wanted to go on sowing wheat, but had not enough Communal land

for the purpose, and what he had already used was not available; for in those parts wheat is only sown on

virgin soil or on fallow land. It is sown for one or two years, and then the land lies fallow till it is again

overgrown with prairie grass. There were many who wanted such land, and there was not enough for all; so

that people quarrelled about it. Those who were better off, wanted it for growing wheat, and those who were

poor, wanted it to let to dealers, so that they might raise money to pay their taxes. Pahm wanted to sow more

wheat; so he rented land from a dealer for a year. He sowed much wheat and had a fine crop, but the land was

too far from the village the wheat had to be carted more than ten miles. After a time Pahm noticed that

some peasantdealers were living on separate farms, and were growing wealthy; and he thought:

'If I were to buy some freehold land, and have a homestead on it, it would be a different thing altogether.

He went on in the same way for three years: renting land and sowing wheat. The seasons turned out well and

the crops were good, so that he began to lay money by. He might have gone on living contentedly, but he

grew tired of having to rent other people's land every year, and having to scramble for it. Wherever there was

good land to be had, the peasants would rush for it and it was taken up at once, so that unless you were sharp

about it you got none. It happened in the third year that he and a dealer together rented a piece of pasture land

from some peasants; and they had already ploughed it up, when there was some dispute, and the peasants

'If it were my own land,' thought Pahm, 'I should be independent, and there would not be all this

So Pahm began looking out for land which he could buy; and he came across a peasant who had bought

thirteen hundred acres, but having got into difficulties was willing to sell again cheap. Pahm bargained and

haggled with him, and at last they settled the price at 1,500 roubles, part in cash and part to be paid later.

They had all but clinched the matter, when a passing dealer happened to stop at Pahm's one day to get a feed

for his horses. He drank tea with Pahm, and they had a talk. The dealer said that he was just returning from

the land of the Bashk�rs, far away, where he had bought thirteen thousand acres of land, all for 1,000 roubles.

'All one need do is to make friends with the chiefs. I gave away about one hundred roubles, worth of

dressinggowns and carpets, besides a case of tea, and I gave wine to those who would drink it; and I got the

land for less than twopence an acre[21]. And he showed Pahm the titledeeds, saying:

'There is more land there than you could cover if you walked a year, and it all belongs to the Bashk�rs. They

'There now,' thought Pahm, 'with my one thousand roubles, why should I get only thirteen hundred acres, and

saddle myself with a debt besides. If I take it out there, I can get more than ten times as much for the money.'

Pahm inquired how to get to the place, and as soon as the tradesman had left him, he prepared to go there

himself. He left his wife to look after the homestead, and started on his journey taking his man with him.

They stopped at a town on their way, and bought a case of tea, some wine, and other presents, as the

tradesman had advised. On and on they went until they had gone more than three hundred miles, and on the

seventh day they came to a place where the Bashk�rs had pitched their tents. It was all just as the tradesman

had said. The people lived on the steppes, by a river, in feltcovered tents[22]. They neither tilled the ground,

nor ate bread. Their cattle and horses grazed in herds on the steppe. The colts were tethered behind the tents,

and the mares were driven to them twice a day. The mares were milked, and from the milk kumiss was made.

It was the women who prepared kumiss, and they also made cheese. As far as the men were concerned,

drinking kumiss and tea, eating mutton, and playing on their pipes, was all they cared about. They were all

stout and merry, and all the summer long they never thought of doing any work. They were quite ignorant,

As soon as they saw Pahm, they came out of their tents and gathered round their visitor. An interpreter was

found, and Pahm told them he had come about some land. The Bashk�rs seemed very glad they took Pahm

and led him into one of the best tents, where they made him sit on some down cushions placed on a carpet,

while they sat round him. They gave him tea and kumiss, and had a sheep killed, and gave him mutton to eat.

Pahm took presents out of his cart and distributed them among the Bashk�rs, and divided amongst them the

tea. The Bashk�rs were delighted. They talked a great deal among themselves, and then told the interpreter to

'They wish to tell you,' said the interpreter, 'that they like you, and that it is our custom to do all we can to

please a guest and to repay him for his gifts. You have given us presents, now tell us which of the things we

'What pleases me best here,' answered Pahm 'is your land. Our land is crowded, and the soil is exhausted; but

The interpreter translated. The Bashk�rs talked among themselves for a while. Pahm could not understand

what they were saying, but saw that they were much amused, and that they shouted and laughed. Then they

'They wish me to tell you that in return for your presents they will gladly give you as much land as you want.

The Bashk�rs talked again for a while and began to dispute. Pahm asked what they were disputing about, and

the interpreter told him that some of them thought they ought to ask their Chief about the land and not act in

While the Bashk�rs were disputing, a man in a large foxfur cap appeared on the scene. They all became

silent and rose to their feet. The interpreter said, 'This is our Chief himself.'

Pahm immediately fetched the best dressinggown and five pounds of tea, and offered these to the Chief. The

Chief accepted them, and seated himself in the place of honour. The Bashk�rs at once began telling him

something. The Chief listened for a while, then made a sign with his head for them to be silent, and

'Well, let it be so. Choose whatever piece of land you like; we have plenty of it.'

'How can I take as much as I like?' thought Pahm. 'I must get a deed to make it secure, or else they may say,

'Thank you for your kind words,' he said aloud. 'You have much land, and I only want a little. But I should

like to be sure which bit is mine. Could it not be measured and made over to me? Life and death are in God's

hands. You good people give it to me, but your children might wish to take it away again.'

'I heard that a dealer had been here,' continued Pahm, 'and that you gave him a little land, too, and signed

'Yes,' replied he, 'that can be done quite easily. We have a scribe, and we will go to town with you and have

'We do not know how to reckon it out,' said the Chief. 'We sell it by the day. As much as you can go round on

'It will all be yours!' said he. 'But there is one condition: If you don't return on the same day to the spot

'Why, we shall go to any spot you like, and stay there. You must start from that spot and make your round,

taking a spade with you. Wherever you think necessary, make a mark. At every turning, dig a hole and pile

up the turf; then afterwards we will go round with a plough from hole to hole. You may make as large a

circuit as you please, but before the sun sets you must return to the place you started from. All the land you

Pahm was delighted. It was decided to start early next morning. They talked a while, and after drinking some

more kumiss and eating some more mutton, they had tea again, and then the night came on. They gave Pahm

a featherbed to sleep on, and the Bashk�rs dispersed for the night, promising to assemble the next morning

Pahm lay on the featherbed, but could not sleep. He kept thinking about the land.

'What a large tract I will mark off!' thought he. 'I can easily do thirtyfive miles in a day. The days are long

now, and within a circuit of thirtyfive miles what a lot of land there will be! I will sell the poorer land, or let

it to peasants, but I'll pick out the best and farm it. I will buy two oxteams, and hire two more labourers.

About a hundred and fifty acres shall be ploughland, and I will pasture cattle on the rest.'

Pahm lay awake all night, and dozed off only just before dawn. Hardly were his eyes closed when he had a

dream. He thought he was lying in that same tent, and heard somebody chuckling outside. He wondered who

it could be, and rose and went out and he saw the Bashk�r Chief sitting in front of the tent holding his sides

and rolling about with laughter. Going nearer to the Chief, Pahm asked: 'What are you laughing at?' But he

saw that it was no longer the Chief, but the dealer who had recently stopped at his house and had told him

about the land. Just as Pahm was going to ask, 'Have you been here long?' he saw that it was not the dealer,

but the peasant who had come up from the Volga, long ago, to Pahm's old home. Then he saw that it was not

the peasant either, but the Devil himself with hoofs and horns sitting there and chuckling, and before him lay

a man barefoot, prostrate on the ground, with only trousers and a shirt on. And Pahm dreamt that he looked

more attentively to see what sort of a man it was that was lying there, and he saw that the man was dead and

He got up, roused his man (who was sleeping in his cart), bade him harness; and went to call the Bashk�rs.

The Bashk�rs rose and assembled, and the Chief came too. Then they began drinking kumiss again, and

The Bashk�rs got ready and they all started: some mounted on horses, and some in carts. Pahm drove in his

own small cart with his servant, and took a spade with him. When they reached the steppe, the morning red

was beginning to kindle. They ascended a hillock (called by the Bashk�rs a shikhan) and dismounting from

their carts and their horses, gathered in one spot. The Chief came up to Pahm and stretching out his arm

'See,' said he, 'all this, as far as your eye can reach, is ours. You may have any part of it you like.'

Pahm's eyes glistened: it was all virgin soil, as flat as the palm of your hand, as black as the seed of a poppy,

'This will be the mark. Start from here, and return here again. All the land you go round shall be yours.'

Pahm took out his money and put it on the cap. Then he took off his outer coat, remaining in his sleeveless

undercoat. He unfastened his girdle and tied it tight below his stomach, put a little bag of bread into the

breast of his coat, and tying a flask of water to his girdle, he drew up the tops of his boots, took the spade

from his man, and stood ready to start. He considered for some moments which way he had better go it

He turned his face to the east, stretched himself and waited for the sun to appear above the rim.

'I must lose no time,' he thought, 'and it is easier walking while it is still cool.'

The sun's rays had hardly flashed above the horizon, before Pahm, carrying the spade over his shoulder went

Pahm started walking neither slowly nor quickly. After having gone a thousand yards he stopped, dug a hole,

and placed pieces of turf one on another to make it more visible. Then he went on; and now that he had

walked off his stiffness he quickened his pace. After a while he dug another hole.

Pahm looked back. The hillock could be distinctly seen in the sunlight, with the people on it, and the

glittering tyres of the cartwheels. At a rough guess Pahm concluded that he had walked three miles. It was

growing warmer; he took off his undercoat, flung it across his shoulder, and went on again. It had grown

'The first shift is done, but there are four in a day, and it is too soon yet to turn. But I will just take off my

He sat down, took off his boots, stuck them into his girdle, and went on. It was easy walking now.

'I will go on for another three miles,' thought he, 'and then turn to the left. This spot is so fine, that it would be

He went straight on for a while, and when he looked round, the hillock was scarcely visible and the people on

it looked like black ants, and he could just see something glistening there in the sun.

'Ah,' thought Pahm, 'I have gone far enough in this direction, it is time to turn. Besides I am in a regular

He stopped, dug a large hole, and heaped up pieces of turf. Next he untied his flask, had a drink, and then

turned sharply to the left. He went on and on; the grass was high, and it was very hot.

He sat down, and ate some bread and drank some water; but he did not lie down, thinking that if he did he

might fall asleep. After sitting a little while, he went on again. At first he walked easily: the food had

strengthened him; but it had become terribly hot, and he felt sleepy; still he went on, thinking: 'An hour to

He went a long way in this direction also, and was about to turn to the left again, when he perceived a damp

hollow: 'It would be a pity to leave that out,' he thought. 'Flax would do well there.' So he went on past the

hollow, and dug a hole on the other side of it before he turned the corner. Pahm looked towards the hillock.

The heat made the air hazy: it seemed to be quivering, and through the haze the people on the hillock could

'Ah!' thought Pahm, 'I have made the sides too long; I must make this one shorter.' And he went along the

third side stepping faster. He looked at the sun: it was nearly half way to the horizon, and he had not yet done

two miles of the third side of the square. He was still ten miles from the goal.

'No,' he thought, 'though it will make my land lopsided, I must hurry back in a straight line now. I might go

Pahm went straight towards the hillock, but he now walked with difficulty. He was done up with the heat, his

bare feet were cut and bruised, and his legs began to fail. He longed to rest, but it was impossible if he meant

to get back before sunset. The sun waits for no man, and it was sinking lower and lower.

'Oh dear,' he thought, 'if only I have not blundered trying for too much! What if I am too late?'

He looked towards the hillock and at the sun. He was still far from his goal, and the sun was already near the

Pahm walked on and on; it was very hard walking, but he went quicker and quicker. He pressed on, but was

still far from the place. He began running, threw away his coat, his boots, his flask, and his cap, and kept only

'What shall I do,' he thought again, 'I have grasped too much, and ruined the whole affair. I can't get there

And this fear made him still more breathless. Pahm went on running, his soaking shirt and trousers stuck to

him, and his mouth was parched. His breast was working like a blacksmith's bellows, his heart was beating

like a hammer, and his legs were giving way as if they did not belong to him. Pahm was seized with terror

Though afraid of death, he could not stop. 'After having run all that way they will call me a fool if I stop

now,' thought he. And he ran on and on, and drew near and heard the Bashk�rs yelling and shouting to him,

and their cries inflamed his heart still more. He gathered his last strength and ran on.

The sun was close to the rim, and cloaked in mist looked large, and red as blood. Now, yes now, it was about

to set! The sun was quite low, but he was also quite near his aim. Pahm could already see the people on the

hillock waving their arms to hurry him up. He could see the foxfur cap on the ground, and the money on it,

and the Chief sitting on the ground holding his sides. And Pahm remembered his dream.

'There is plenty of land,' thought he, 'but will God let me live on it? I have lost my life, I have lost my life! I

Pahm looked at the sun, which had reached the earth: one side of it had already disappeared. With all his

remaining strength he rushed on, bending his body forward so that his legs could hardly follow fast enough to

keep him from falling. Just as he reached the hillock it suddenly grew dark. He looked up the sun had

already set! He gave a cry: 'All my labour has been in vain,' thought he, and was about to stop, but he heard

the Bashk�rs still shouting, and remembered that though to him, from below, the sun seemed to have set, they

on the hillock could still see it. He took a long breath and ran up the hillock. It was still light there. He

reached the top and saw the cap. Before it sat the Chief laughing and holding his sides. Again Pahm

remembered his dream, and he uttered a cry: his legs gave way beneath him, he fell forward and reached the

Pahm's servant came running up and tried to raise him, but he saw that blood was flogging from his mouth.

His servant picked up the spade and dug a grave long enough for Pahm to he in, and buried him in it. Six feet

ONE day some children found, in a ravine, a thing shaped like a grain of corn, with a groove down the

middle, but as large as a hen's egg. A traveller passing by saw the thing, bought it from the children for a

The King called together his wise men, and told them to find out what the thing was. The wise men pondered

and pondered and could not make head or tail of it, till one day, when the thing was lying on a windowsill, a

hen flew in and pecked at it till she made a hole in it, and then every one saw that it was a grain of corn. The

At this the King was much surprised; and he ordered the learned men to find out when and where such corn

had grown. The learned men pondered again, and searched in their books, but could find nothing about it. So

'We can give you no answer. There is nothing about it in our books. You will have to ask the peasants;

perhaps some of them may have heard from their fathers when and where grain grew to such a size.'

So the King gave orders that some very old peasant should be brought before him; and his servants found

such a man and brought him to the King. Old and bent, ashy pale and toothless, he just managed with the help

The King showed him the grain, but the old man could hardly see it; he took it, however, and felt it with his

'Can you tell us, old man, where such grain as this grew? Have you ever bought such corn, or sown such in

The old man was so deaf that he could hardly hear what the King said, and only understood with great

'No!' he answered at last, 'I never sowed nor reaped any like it in my fields, nor did I ever buy any such.

When we bought corn, the grains were always as small as they are now. But you might ask my father. He

So the King sent for the old man's father, and he was found and brought before the King. He came walking

with one crutch. The King showed him the grain, and the old peasant, who was still able to see, took a good

'Can you not tell us, old man, where corn like this used to grow? Have you ever bought any like it, or sown

Though the old man was rather hard of hearing, he still heard better than his son had done.

'No,' he said, 'I never sowed nor reaped any grain like this in my field. As to buying, I never bought any, for

in my time money was not yet in use. Every one grew his own corn, and when there was any need we shared

with one another. I do not know where corn like this grew. Ours was larger and yielded more flour than

presentday grain, but I never saw any like this. I have, however, heard my father say that in his time the

So the King sent for this old man's father, and they found him too, and brought him before the King. He

entered walking easily and without crutches: his eye was clear, his hearing good, and he spoke distinctly. The

King showed him the grain, and the old grandfather looked at it, and turned it about in his hand.

'It is long since I saw such a fine grain,' said he, and he bit a piece off and tasted it.

'Tell me, grandfather,' said the King, 'when and where was such corn grown? Have you ever bought any like

'Corn like this used to grow everywhere in my time. I lived on corn like this in my young days, and fed others

'Tell me, grandfather, did you buy it anywhere, or did you grow it all yourself?'

'In my time,' he answered, 'no one ever thought of such a sin as buying or selling bread; and we knew nothing

'Then tell me, grandfather,' asked the King, 'where was your field, where did you grow corn like this?'

'My field was God's earth. Wherever I ploughed, there was my field. Land was free. It was a thing no man

'Answer me two more questions,' said the King. 'The first is, Why did the earth bear such grain then and has

ceased to do so now? And the second is, Why your grandson walks with two crutches, your son with one, and

you yourself with none? Your eyes are bright, your teeth sound, and your speech clear and pleasant to the ear.

'These things are so, because men have ceased to live by their own labour, and have taken to depending on

the labour of others. In the old time, men lived according to God's law. They had what was their own, and

'Ye have heard that it was said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth, but I say unto you, Resist not him

A SON was born to a poor peasant. He was glad and went to his neighbour to ask him to stand godfather to

the boy. The neighbour refused he did not like standing godfather to a poor man's child. The peasant

asked another neighbour, but he too refused, and after that the poor father went to every house in the village,

but found no one willing to be godfather to his son. So he set off to another village, and on the way he met a

'God has given me a child,' said the peasant, 'to rejoice my eyes in youth, to comfort my old age, and to pray

for my soul after death. But I am poor, and no one in our village will stand godfather to him, so I am now on

The peasant was glad, and thanked him, but added: 'And whom shall I ask to be godmother?'

'Go to the town,' replied the stranger, 'and, in the square, you will see a stone house with shopwindows in

the front. At the entrance you will find the tradesman to whom it belongs. Ask him to let his daughter stand

'How can I ask a rich tradesman?' said he. 'He will despise me, and will not let his daughter come.'

'Don't trouble about that. Go and ask. Get everything ready by tomorrow morning, and I will come to the

The poor peasant returned home, and then drove to the town to find the tradesman. He had hardly taken his

'Why, sir,' said the peasant, 'you see God has given me a son to rejoice my eyes in youth, to comfort my old

age, and to pray for my soul after death. Be so kind as to let your daughter stand godmother to him.

The next day the godmother came, and the godfather also, and the infant was baptized. Immediately after the

christening the godfather went away. They did not know who he was, and never saw him again.

The child grew up to be a joy to his parents. He was strong, willing to work, clever and obedient. When he

was ten years old his parents sent him to school to learn to read and write. What others learnt in five years, he

Easter came round, and the boy went to see his godmother, to give her his Easter greeting.

'Father and mother,' said he when he got home again, 'where does my godfather live? I should like to give

'We know nothing about your godfather, dear son. We often regret it ourselves. Since the day you were

christened we have never seen him, nor had any news of him. We do not know where he lives, or even

'Father and mother,' said he, 'let me go and look for my godfather. I must find him and give him my Easter

The boy left the house and set out along the road. He had been walking for several hours when he met a

'I went to see my godmother and to give her my Easter greeting, and when I got home I asked my parents

where my godfather lives, that I might go and greet him also. They told me they did not know. They said he

went away as soon as I was christened, and they know nothing about him, not even if he be still alive. But I

The boy was glad to hear this. After kissing his godfather three times for an Easter greeting, he asked him:

'Which way are you going now, godfather? If you are coming our way, please come to our house; but if you

'I have no time now,' replied his godfather, 'to come to your house. I have business in several villages; but I

'When you leave home, go straight towards the rising sun, and you will come to a forest; going through the

forest you will come to a glade. When you reach this glade sit down and rest awhile, and look around you and

see what happens. On the further side of the forest you will find a garden, and in it a house with a golden

roof. That is my home. Go up to the gate, and I will myself be there to meet you.'

The boy did as his godfather had told him. He walked eastward until he reached a forest, and there he came to

a glade, and in the midst of the glade he saw a pine tree to a branch of which was tied a rope supporting a

heavy log of oak. Close under this log stood a wooden trough filled with honey. Hardly had the boy had time

to wonder why the honey was placed there, and why the log hung above it, when he heard a crackling in the

wood, and saw some bears approaching; a shebear, followed by a yearling and three tiny cubs. The

shebear, sniffing the air, went straight to the trough, the cubs following her. She thrust her muzzle into the

honey, and called the cubs to do the same. They scampered up and began to eat. As they did so, the log,

which the shebear had moved aside with her head, swung away a little and, returning, gave the cubs a push.

Seeing this the shebear shoved the log away with her paw. It swung further out and returned more forcibly,

striking one cub on the back and another on the head. The cubs ran away howling with pain, and the mother,

with a growl, caught the log in her fore paws and, raising it above her head flung it away. The log flew high

in the air and the yearling, rushing to the trough, pushed his muzzle into the honey and began to suck noisily.

The others also drew near, but they had not reached the trough when the log, flying back, struck the yearling

on the head and killed him. The mother growled louder than before and, seizing the log, flung it from her

with all her might. It flew higher than the branch it was tied to; so high that the rope slackened; and the

shebear returned to the trough, and the little cubs after her. The log flew higher and higher, then stopped,

and began to fall. The nearer it came the faster it swung, and at last, at full speed, it crashed down on her

head. The shebear rolled over, her legs jerked and she died! The cubs ran away into the forest.

The boy watched all this in surprise, and then continued his way. Leaving the forest, he came upon a large

garden in the midst of which stood a lofty palace with a golden roof. At the gate stood his godfather, smiling.

He welcomed his godson, and led him through the gateway into the garden. The boy had never dreamed of

Then his godfather led him into the palace, which was even more beautiful inside than outside. The godfather

showed the boy through all the rooms: each brighter and finer than the other, but at last they came to one door

'You see this door,' said he. 'It is not locked, but only sealed. It can be opened, but I forbid you to open it.

You may live here, and go where you please and enjoy all the delights of the place. My only command is

do not open that door! But should you ever do so, remember what you saw in the forest.'

Having said this the godfather went away. The godson remained in the palace, and life there was so bright

and joyful that he thought he had only been there three hours, when he had really lived there thirty years.

When thirty years had gone by, the godson happened to be passing the sealed door one day, and he wondered

'I'll just look in and see what is there,' thought he, and he gave the door a push. The seals gave way, the door

opened, and the godson entering saw a hall more lofty and beautiful than all the others, and in the midst of it

a throne. He wandered about the hall for a while, and then mounted the steps and seated himself upon the

throne. As he sat there he noticed a sceptre leaning against the throne, and took it in his hand. Hardly had he

done so when the four walls of the hall suddenly disappeared. The godson looked around, and saw the whole

world, and all that men were doing in it. He looked in front, and saw the sea with ships sailing on it. He

looked to the right, and saw where strange heathen people lived. He looked to the left, and saw where men

who were Christians, but not Russians, lived. He looked round, and on the fourth side, he saw Russian

'I will look,' said he, 'and see what is happening at home, and whether the harvest is good.'

He looked towards his father's fields and saw the sheaves standing in stooks. He began counting them to see

whether there was much corn, when he noticed a peasant driving in a cart. It was night, and the godson

thought it was his father coming to cart the corn by night. But as he looked he recognized Vas�ly Koudryashf,

the thief, driving into the field and beginning to load the sheaves on to his cart. This made the godson angry,

'I dreamt the sheaves were being stolen,' said he. 'I will just ride down and see.'

So he got on a horse and rode out to the field. Finding Vas�ly there, he called together other peasants to help

Then the godson looked at the town, where his godmother lived. He saw that she was now married to a

tradesman. She lay asleep, and her husband rose and went to his mistress. The godson shouted to her:

The godmother jumped up and dressed, and finding out where her husband was, she shamed and beat his

Then the godson looked for his mother, and saw her lying asleep in her cottage. And a thief crept into the

cottage and began to break open the chest in which she kept her things. The mother awoke and screamed, and

The godson could not refrain from hurling the sceptre at the robber. It struck him upon the temple, and killed

As soon as the godson had killed the robber, the walls closed and the hall became just as it had been before.

Then the door opened and the godfather entered, and coming up to his godson he took him by the hand and

'You have not obeyed my command,' said he. 'You did one wrong thing, when you opened the forbidden

door; another, when you mounted the throne and took my sceptre into your hands; and you have now done a

third wrong, which has much increased the evil in the world. Had you sat here an hour longer, you would

Then the godfather led his godson back to the throne, and took the sceptre in his hand; and again the walls

'See what you have done to your father. Vas�ly has now been a year in prison, and has come out having learnt

every kind of wickedness, and has become quite incorrigible. See, he has stolen two of your father's horses,

and he is now setting fire to his barn. All this you have brought upon your father.'

The godson saw his father's barn breaking into flames, but his godfather shut off the sight from him, and told

'Here is your godmother's husband,' he said. 'It is a year since he left his wife, and now he goes after other

women. His former mistress has sunk to still lower depths. Sorrow has driven his wife to drink. That's what

The godfather shut off this also, and showed the godson his father's house. There he saw his mother weeping

'It would have been better had the robber killed me that night. I should not have sinned so heavily.'

He shut this off also, and pointed downwards; and the godson saw two warders holding the robber in front of

'This man had murdered ten men. He should have expiated his sins himself, but by killing him you have taken

his sins on yourself. Now you must answer for all his sins. That is what you have done to yourself. The

shebear pushed the log aside once, and disturbed her cubs; she pushed it again, and killed her yearling; she

pushed it a third time, and was killed herself. You have done the same. Now I give you thirty years to go into

the world and atone for the robber's sins. If you do not atone for them, you will have to take his place.'

'When you have rid the world of as much evil as you have brought into it, you will have atoned both for your

'Go out,' replied the godfather, 'and walk straight towards the rising sun. After a time you will come to a field

with some men in it. Notice what they are doing, and teach them what you know. Then go on and note what

you see. On the fourth day you will come to a forest. In the midst of the forest is a cell and in the cell lives a

hermit. Tell him all that has happened. He will teach you what to do. When you have done all he tells you,

The godson went his way, and as he went he thought: How am I to destroy evil in the world? Evil is

destroyed by banishing evil men, keeping them in prison, or putting them to death. How then am I to destroy

The godson pondered over it for a long time, but could come to no conclusion. He went on until he came to a

field where corn was growing thick and good and ready for the reapers. The godson saw that a little calf had

got in among the corn. Some men who were at hand saw it, and mounting their horses they chased it

backwards and forwards through the corn. Each time the calf was about to come out of the corn some one

rode up and the calf got frightened and turned back again, and they all galloped after it, trampling down the

'What are you doing? Come out of the cornfield all of you, and let the woman call her calf.'

The men did so; and the woman came to the edge of the cornfield and called to the calf. 'Come along

browney, come along,' said she. The calf pricked up its ears, listened a while, and then ran towards the

woman of its own accord, and hid its head in her skirts, almost knocking her over. The men were glad the

'Now I see that evil spreads evil. The more people try to drive away evil, the more the evil grows. Evil, it

seems, cannot be destroyed by evil; but in what way it can be destroyed, I do not know. The calf obeyed its

mistress and so all went well; but if it had not obeyed her, how could we have got it out of the field?'

He went on until he came to a village. At the furthest end he stopped and asked leave to stay the night. The

woman of the house was there alone, housecleaning, and she let him in. The godson entered, and taking his

seat upon the brick oven he watched what the woman was doing. He saw her finish scrubbing the room and

begin scrubbing the table. Having done this, she began wiping the table with a dirty cloth. She wiped it from

side to side but it did not come clean. The soiled cloth left streaks of dirt. Then she wiped it the other way.

The first streaks disappeared, but others came in their place. Then she wiped it from one end to the other, but

again the same thing happened. The soiled cloth messed the table; when one streak was wiped off another

'Don't you see I'm cleaning up for the holiday. Only I can't manage this table, it won't come clean. I'm quite

'You should rinse your cloth,' said the godson, 'before you wipe the table with it.'

In the morning he took leave of the woman and went on his way. After walking a good while, he came to the

edge of a forest. There he saw some peasants who were making wheelrims of bent wood. Coming nearer,

the godson saw that the men were going round and round, but could not bend the wood.

He stood and looked on, and noticed that the block, to which the piece of wood was fastened, was not fixed,

'Why, don't you see, we are making wheel rims. We have twice steamed the wood, and are quite tired out, but

'You should fix the block, friends,' said the godson, 'or else it goes round when you do.'

The peasants took his advice and fixed the block, and then the work went on merrily.

The godson spent the night with them, and then went on. He walked all day and all night, and just before

dawn he came upon some drovers encamped for the night, and lay down beside them. He saw that they had

got all their cattle settled, and were trying to light a fire. They had taken dry twigs and lighted them, but

before the twigs had time to burn up, they smothered them with damp brushwood. The brushwood hissed and

the fire smouldered and went out. Then the drovers brought more dry wood, lit it, and again put on the

brushwood and again the fire went out. They struggled with it for a long time, but could not get the fire to

'Do not be in such a hurry to put on the brushwood. Let the dry wood burn up properly before you put any on.

The drovers followed his advice. They let the fire burn up fiercely before adding the brushwood, which then

The godson remained with them for a while, and then continued his way. He went on, wondering what the

The godson walked the whole of that day, and in the evening came to another forest. There he found a

'A great sinner,' replied the godson. I must atone for another's sins as well as for my own.

The godson told him everything: about his godfather; about the shebear with the cubs; about the throne in

the sealed room; about the commands his godfather had given him, as well as about the peasants he had seen

'I have seen that one cannot destroy evil by evil,' said he, 'but I cannot understand how it is to be destroyed.

The godson told him about the woman washing the table, and the men making cartwheels, and the drovers

The hermit listened to it all, and then went back to his cell and brought out an old jagged axe.

The godson chopped the tree into three pieces. Then the hermit went back to his cell, and brought out some

So the godson made a fire, and burnt the three logs till only three charred stumps remained.

'You see that river at the foot of the hill. Bring water from there in your mouth, and water these stumps.

Water this stump, as you taught the woman: this one as you taught the wheelwrights: and this one, as you

taught the drovers. When all three have taken root and from these charred stumps appletrees have sprung

you will know how to destroy evil in men, and will have atoned for all your sins.'

Having said this, the hermit returned to his cell. The godson pondered for a long time, but could not

understand what the hermit meant. Nevertheless he set to work to do as he had been told.

The godson went down to the river, filled his mouth with water, and returning, emptied it on to one of the

charred stumps. This he did again and again, and watered all threestumps. When he was hungry and quite

tired out, he went to the cell to ask the old hermit for some food. He opened the door, and there upon a bench

he saw the old man lying dead. The godson looked round for food, and he found some dried bread and ate a

little of it. Then he took a spade and set to work to dig the hermit's grave. During the night he carried water

and watered the stumps, and in the day he dug the grave. He had hardly finished the grave and was about to

bury the corpse, when some people from the village came, bringing food for the old man.

The people heard that the old hermit was dead, and that he had given the godson his blessing, and left him in

his place. So they buried the old man, gave the bread they had brought to the godson, and promising to bring

The godson remained in the old man's place. There he lived, eating the food people brought him, and doing as

he had been told: carrying water from the river in his mouth and watering the charred stumps.

He lived thus for a year, and many people visited him. His fame spread abroad, as a holy man who lived in

the forest and brought water from the bottom of a hill in his mouth to water charred stumps for the salvation

of his soul. People flocked to see him. Rich merchants drove up bringing him presents, but he kept only the

And so the godson lived: carrying water in his mouth and watering the stumps half the day, and resting and

receiving people the other half. And he began to think that this was the way he had been told to live, in order

He spent two years in this manner, not omitting for a single day to water the stumps. But still not one of them

One day, as he sat in his cell, he heard a man ride past, singing as he went. The godson came out to see what

sort of a man it was. He saw a strong young fellow, well dressed, and mounted on a handsome, wellsaddled

'I am a robber,' the man answered, drawing rein. 'I ride about the highways killing people; and the more I kill,

'How can the evil be destroyed in such a man as this? It is easy to speak to those who come to me of their

So he said nothing, and turned away, thinking: 'What am I to do now? This robber may take to riding about

here, and he will frighten away the people. They will leave off coming to me. It will be a loss to them, and I

'People come to me here, not to boast of their sins, but to repent, and to pray for forgiveness. Repent of your

sins, if you fear God; but if there is no repentance in your heart, then go away and never come here again. Do

not trouble me, and do not frighten people away from me. If you do not hearken, God will punish you.'

'I am not afraid of God, and I will not listen to you. You are not my master,' said he. 'You live by your piety,

and I by my robbery. We all must live. You may teach the old women who come to you, but you have

nothing to teach me. And because you have reminded me of God, I will kill two more men tomorrow. I would

kill you, but I do not want to soil my hands just now. See that in future you keep out of my way!'

Having uttered this threat, the robber rode away. He did not come again, and the godson lived in peace, as

One night the godson watered his stumps, and, after returning to his cell, he sat down to rest, and watched the

footpath, wondering if some one would soon come. But no one came at all that day. He sat alone till evening,

feeling lonely and dull, and he thought about his past life. Ho remembered how the robber had reproached

him for living by his piety; and he reflected on his way of life. 'I am not living as the hermit commanded me

to,' thought he. 'The hermit laid a penance upon me, and I have made both a living and fame out of it; and

have been so tempted by it, that now I feel dull when people do not come to me; and when they do come, I

only rejoice because they praise my holiness. That is not how one should live. I have been led astray by love

of praise. I have not atoned for my past sins, but have added fresh ones. I will go to another part of the forest

where people will not find me; and I will live so as to atone for my old sins and commit no fresh ones.'

Having come to this conclusion the godson filled a bag with dried bread and, taking a spade, left the cell and

started for a ravine he knew of in a lonely spot, where he could dig himself a cave and hide from the people.

As he was going along with his bag and his spade he saw the robber riding towards him. The godson was

The godson told him he wished to get away from the people and live somewhere where no one would come

The godson had not even thought of this, but the robber's question reminded him that food would be

'Why did I not say anything to him about his way of life?' thought the godson. 'He might repent now. Today

he seems in a gentler mood, and has not threatened to kill me.' And he shouted to the robber:

The robber turned his horse, and drawing a knife from his girdle threatened the hermit with it. The latter was

'Twice I have let you off, old man, but next time you come in my way I will kill you!'

Having said this, he rode away. In the evening when the godson went to water his stumps one of them was

After hiding himself from everybody, the godson lived all alone. When his supply of bread was exhausted, he

thought: 'Now I must go and look for some roots to eat.' He had not gone far, however, before he saw a bag of

dried bread hanging on a branch. He took it down, and as long as it lasted he lived upon that.

When he had eaten it all, he found another bagful on the same branch. So he lived on, his only trouble being

In this way he lived for ten more years. The one appletree continued to grow, but the other two stumps

One morning the godson rose early and went to his work. By the time he had thoroughly moistened the

ground round the stumps, he was tired out and sat down to rest. As he sat there he thought to himself:

'I have sinned, and have become afraid of death. It may be God's will that I should redeem my sins by death.'

Hardly had this thought crossed his mind when he heard the robber riding up, swearing at something. When

And he went to meet the robber. He saw the robber was not alone, but behind him on the saddle sat another

man, gagged, and bound hand and foot. The man was doing nothing, but the robber was abusing him

'Into the forest,' replied the robber. 'He is a merchant's son, and will not tell me where his father's money is

And the robber spurred on his horse, but the godson caught hold of his bridle, and would not let him pass.

'Would you like a taste of what I am going to give this man? Have I not promised to kill you? Let go!'

'You shall not go,' said he. 'I do not fear you. I fear no one but God, and He wills that I should not let you

The robber frowned, and snatching out his knife, cut the ropes with which the merchant's son was bound, and

The merchant's son jumped down and ran away. The robber was about to ride on, but the godson stopped him

again, and again spoke to him about giving up his evil life. The robber heard him to the end in silence, and

The next morning the godson went to water his stumps and lo! the second stump was sprouting. A second

Another ten years had gone by. The godson was sitting quietly one day, desiring nothing, fearing nothing,

'What blessings God showers on men!' thought he. 'Yet how needlessly they torment themselves. What

And remembering all the evil in men, and the troubles they bring upon themselves, his heart filled with pity.

'It is wrong of me to live as I do,' he said to himself. 'I must go and teach others what I have myself learnt.'

Hardly had he thought this, when he heard the robber approaching. He let him pass, thinking:

That was his first thought, but ho changed his mind and went out into the road. He saw that the robber was

gloomy, and was riding with downcast eyes. The godson looked at him, pitied him, and running up to him

'Brother, dear,' said he, 'have some pity on your own soul! In you lives the spirit of God. You suffer, and

torment others, and lay up more and more suffering for the future. Yet God loves you, and has prepared such

Then the robber lifted his eyes and looked at the godson. He looked at him for a long time, and alighting from

'You have overcome me, old man,' said he. 'For twenty years I have resisted you, but now you have

conquered me. Do what you will with me, for I have no more power over myself. When you first tried to

persuade me, it only angered me more. Only when you hid yourself from men did I begin to consider your

words: for I saw then that you asked nothing of them for yourself. Since that day I have brought food for you,

Then the godson remembered that the woman got her table clean only after she had rinsed her cloth. In the

same way, it was only when he ceased caring about himself, and cleansed his own heart, that he was able to

Then the godson remembered that the wheelwrights could not bend the rims until they had fixed their block.

So, not till he had cast away the fear of death and made his life fast in God, could he subdue this man's unruly

'But my heart did not quite melt,' continued the robber, 'until you pitied me and wept for me.'

The godson, full of joy, led the robber to the place where the stumps were. And when they got there, they saw

that from the third stump an appletree had begun to sprout. And the godson remembered that the drovers

had not been able to light the damp wood until the fire had burnt up well. So it was only when his own heart

He told all this to the robber, and died. The robber buried him, and lived as the godson had commanded him,

'And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy Kingdom. And Jesus said unto him,

Verily I say unto thee, Today shalt thou be with me in paradise.' Luke xxiii. 42, 43.

THERE was once a man who lived for seventy years in the world, and lived in sin all that time. He fell ill but

even then did not repent. Only at the last moment, as he was dying, he wept and said:

And as he said these words, his soul left his body. And the soul of the sinner, feeling love towards God and

faith in His mercy, went to the gates of heaven and knocked, praying to be let into the heavenly kingdom.

'What man is it that knocks at the gates of Paradise and what deeds did he do during his life?'

And the voice of the Accuser replied, recounting all the man's evil deeds, and not a single good one.

'Have pity on me, Apostle Peter! Remember man's weakness, and God's mercy. Wert not thou a disciple of

Christ? Didst not thou hear his teaching from his own lips, and hadst thou not his example before thee?

Remember then how, when he sorrowed and was grieved in spirit, and three times asked thee to keep awake

and pray, thou didst sleep, because thine eyes were heavy, and three times he found thee sleeping. So it was

with me. Remember, also, how thou didst promise to be faithful unto death, and yet didst thrice deny him,

when he was taken before Caiaphas. So it was with me. And remember, too, how when the cock crowed thou

didst go out and didst weep bitterly. So it is with me. Thou canst not refuse to let me in.'

Then the sinner stood a little while, and again began to knock, and to ask to be let into the kingdom of

And the voice of the Accuser again repeated all the sinner's evil deeds, and not a single good one.

Have pity on me, King David! Remember man's weakness, and God's mercy. God loved thee and exalted thee

among men. Thou hadst all: a kingdom, and honour, and riches, and wives, and children; but thou sawest

from thy housetop the wife of a poor man, and sin entered into thee, and thou tookest the wife of Uriah, and

didst slay him with the sword of the Ammonites. Thou, a rich man, didst take from the poor man his one ewe

lamb, and didst kill him. I have done likewise. Remember, then, how thou didst repent, and how thou saidst,

"I acknowledge my transgressions: my sin is ever before me?" I have done the same. Thou canst not refuse to

The sinner having stood a little while, began knocking again, and asking to be let into the kingdom of heaven.

And the voice of the Accuser replied for the third time, recounting the sinner's evil deeds, and not mentioning

'Now surely I shall be allowed to enter. Peter and David must let me in, because they know man's weakness

and God's mercy; and thou wilt let me in, because thou lovest much. Was it not thou, John the Divine who

wrote that God is Love, and that he who loves not, knows not God? And in thine old age didst thou not say

unto men: "Brethren, love one another." How, then, canst thou look on me with hatred, and drive me away?

Either thou must renounce what thou hast said, or loving me, must let me enter the kingdom of heaven.'

And the gates of Paradise opened, and John embraced the repentant sinner and took him into the kingdom of

EMELYAN was a labourer and worked for a master. Crossing the meadows one day on his way to work, he

nearly trod on a frog that jumped right in front of him, but he just managed to avoid it. Suddenly he heard

Emelyan looked round and saw a lovely lassie, who said to him: 'Why don't you get married, Emelyan?'

'How can I marry, my lass?' said he. 'I have but the clothes I stand up in, nothing more, and no one would

Emelyan liked the maid. 'I should be glad to,' said he, 'but where and how could we live?'

'Why trouble about that?' said the girl. 'One only has to work more and sleep less, and one can clothe and feed

So Emelyan and the lass went to town, and she took him to a small hut on the very edge of the town, and they

One day the King, driving through the town, passed by Emelyan's hut. Emelyan's wife came out to see the

'Where did such a beauty come from?' said he and stopping his carriage he called Emelyan's wife and asked

'Why did you, who are such a beauty, marry a peasant?' said the King. 'You ought to be a queen!'

'Thank you for your kind words,' said she, 'but a peasant husband is good enough for me.'

The King talked to her awhile and then drove on. He returned to the palace, but could not get Emelyan's wife

out of his head. All night he did not sleep, but kept thinking how to get her for himself. He could think of no

The King's servants said: 'Command Emelyan to come to the palace to work, and we will work him so hard

that he will die. His wife will be left a widow, and then you can take her for yourself.'

The King followed their advice. He sent an order that Emelyan should come to the palace as a workman and

The messengers came to Emelyan and gave him the King's message. His wife said, 'Go, Emelyan; work all

So Emelyan went, and when he got to the palace the King's steward asked him, 'Why have you come alone,

At the King's palace they gave Emelyan work enough for two. He began the job not hoping to finish it; but

when evening came, lo and behold! it was all done. The steward saw that it was finished, and set him four

Emelyan went home. Everything there was swept and tidy; the oven was heated, his supper was cooked and

ready, and his wife sat by the table sewing and waiting for his return. She greeted him, laid the table, gave

'Ah!' said he, 'it's a bad business: they give me tasks beyond my strength, and want to kill me with work.'

'Don't fret about the work,' said she, 'don't look either before or behind to see how much you have done or

So Emelyan lay down and slept. Next morning he went to work again and worked without once looking

round. And, lo and behold! by the evening it was all done, and before dark he came home for the night.

Again and again they increased Emelyan's work, but he always got through it in good time and went back to

his hut to sleep. A week passed, and the King's servants saw they could not crush him with rough work so

they tried giving him work that required skill. But this, also, was of no avail. Carpentering, and masonry, and

roofing, whatever they set him to do, Emelyan had it ready in time, and went home to his wife at night. So a

Then the King called his servants and said: 'Am I to feed you for nothing? Two weeks have gone, and I don't

see that you have done anything. You were going to tire Emelyan out with work, but I see from my windows

how he goes home every evening singing cheerfully! Do you mean to make a fool of me?'

The King's servants began to excuse themselves. 'We tried our best to wear him out with rough work,' they

said, 'but nothing was too hard for him; he cleared it all off as though he had swept it away with a broom.

There was no tiring him out. Then we set him to tasks needing skill, which we did not think he was clever

enough to do, but he managed them all. No matter what one sets him, he does it all, no one knows how.

Either he or his wife must know some spell that helps them. We ourselves are sick of him, and wish to find a

task he cannot master. We have now thought of setting him to build a cathedral in a single day. Send for

Emelyan, and order him to build a cathedral in front of the palace in a single day. Then, if he does not do it,

The King sent for Emelyan. 'Listen to my command,' said he: 'build me a new cathedral on the square in front

of my palace, and have it ready by tomorrow evening. If you have it ready I will reward you, but if not I will

When Emelyan heard the King's command he turned away and went home. 'My end is near,' thought he. And

coming to his wife, he said: 'Get ready, wife we must fly from here, or I shall be lost by no fault of my own.'

'How can I help being frightened? The King has ordered me, tomorrow, in a single day, to build him a

cathedral. If I fail he will cut my head off. There is only one thing to be done: we must fly while there is yet

But his wife would not hear of it. 'The King has many soldiers,' said she. 'They would catch us anywhere. We

'Eh, goodman, don't be downhearted. Eat your supper now, and go to sleep. Rise early in the morning and all

So Emelyan lay down and slept. His wife roused him early next day. 'Go quickly,' said she, 'and finish the

cathedral. Here are nails and a hammer; there is still enough work there for a day.'

Emelyan went into the town, reached the palace square, and there stood a large cathedral not quite finished.

When the King awoke he looked out from his palace, and saw the cathedral, and Emelyan going about

driving in nails here and there. And the King was not pleased to have the cathedral he was annoyed at not

being able to condemn Emelyan and take his wife. Again he called his servants. 'Emelyan has done this task

also,' said the King, 'and there is no excuse for putting him to death. Even this work was not too hard for him.

You must find a more cunning plan, or I will cut off your heads as well as his.'

So his servants planned that Emelyan should be ordered to make a river round the palace, with ships sailing

'If,' said he, 'you could build a cathedral in one night, you can also do this. Tomorrow all must be ready. If

But his wife replied: 'There is no escaping the soldiers; they will catch us wherever we go. There is nothing

'Eh! eh! goodman,' said she, 'don't be downhearted. Eat your supper now, and go to sleep. Rise early, and all

So Emelyan lay down and slept. In the morning his wife woke him. 'Go,' said she 'to the palace all is

ready. Only, near the wharf in front of the palace, there is a mound left; take a spade and level it.

When the King awoke he saw a river where there had not been one; ships were sailing up and down, and

Emelyan was levelling a mound with a spade. The King wondered, but was pleased neither with the river nor

with the ships, so vexed was he at not being able to condemn Emelyan. 'There is no task,' thought he, 'that he

cannot manage. What is to be done?' And he called his servants and again asked their advice.

'Find some task,' said he, 'which Emelyan cannot compass. For whatever we plan he fulfils, and I cannot take

The King's servants thought and thought, and at last devised a plan. They came to the King and said: 'Send

for Emelyan and say to him: "Go to there, don't know where," and bring back "that, don't know what." Then

he will not be able to escape you. No matter where he goes, you can say that he has not gone to the right

place, and no matter what he brings, you can say it is not the right thing. Then you can have him beheaded

The King was pleased. 'That is well thought of,' said he. So the King sent for Emelyan and said to him: 'Go to

"there, don't know where," and bring back "that, don't know what." If you fail to bring it, I will have you

Emelyan returned to his wife and told her what the King had said. His wife became thoughtful.

'Well,' said she, 'they have taught the King how to catch you. Now we must act warily.' So she sat and

thought, and at last said to her husband: 'You must go far, to our Grandam the old peasant woman, the

mother of soldiers and you must ask her aid. If she helps you to anything, go straight to the palace with it,

I shall be there: I cannot escape them now. They will take me by force, but it will not be for long. If you do

So the wife got her husband ready for the journey. She gave him a wallet, and also a spindle. 'Give her this,'

said she. 'By this token she will know that you are my husband.' And his wife showed him his road.

Emelyan set off. He left the town behind, and came to where some soldiers were being drilled. Emelyan stood

and watched them. After drill the soldiers sat down to rest. Then Emelyan went up to them and asked: 'Do

you know, brothers, the way to "there, don't know where?" and how I can get "that, don't know what?"'

The soldiers listened to him with surprise. 'Who sent you on this errand?' said they

'We ourselves,' said they, 'from the day we became soldiers, go we "don't know where," and never yet have

we got there; and we seek we "don't know what," and cannot find it. We cannot help you.'

Emelyan sat a while with the soldiers and then went on again. He trudged many a mile, and at last came to a

wood. In the wood was a hut, and in the hut sat an old, old woman, the mother of peasant soldiers, spinning

flax and weeping. And as she spun she did not put her fingers to her mouth to wet them with spittle, but to

her eyes to wet them with tears. When the old woman saw Emelyan she cried out at him: 'Why have you

The old woman softened at once, and began to question him. And Emelyan told her his whole life: how he

married the lass; how they went to live in the town; how he had worked, and what he had done at the palace;

how he built the cathedral, and made a river with ships on it, and how the King had now told him to go to

The Grandam listened to the end, and ceased weeping. She muttered to herself: 'The time has surely come,'

and said to him: 'All right, my lad. Sit down now, and I will give you something to eat.'

Emelyan ate, and then the Grandam told him what to do. 'Here,' said she, 'is a ball of thread; roll it before

you, and follow where it goes. You must go far till you come right to the sea. When you get there you will

see a great city. Enter the city and ask for a night's lodging at the furthest house. There look out for what you

'When you see something men obey more than father or mother, that is it. Seize that, and take it to the King.

When you bring it to the King, he will say it is not right, and you must answer: "If it is not the right thing it

must be smashed," and you must beat it, and carry it to the river, break it in pieces, and throw it into the

Emelyan bade farewell to the Grandam and began rolling his ball before him. It rolled and rolled until at last

it reached the sea. By the sea stood a great city, and at the further end of the city was a big house. There

Emelyan begged for a night's lodging, and was granted it. He lay down to sleep, and in the morning awoke

and heard a father rousing his son to go and cut wood for the fire. But the son did not obey. 'It is too early,'

said he, 'there is time enough.' Then Emelyan heard the mother say, 'Go, my son, your father's bones ache;

But the son only murmured some words and fell asleep again. Hardly was he asleep when something

thundered and rattled in the street. Up jumped the son and quickly putting on his clothes ran out into the

street. Up jumped Emelyan, too, and ran after him to see what it was that a son obeys more than father or

mother. What he saw was a man walking along the street carrying, tied to his stomach, a thing which he beat

with sticks, and that it was that rattled and thundered so, and that the son had obeyed. Emelyan ran up and

had a look at it. He saw it was round, like a small tub, with a skin stretched over both ends, and he asked what

Emelyan was surprised. He asked them to give the thing to him, but they would not. So Emelyan left off

asking, and followed the drummer. All day he followed, and when the drummer at last lay down to sleep,

He ran and ran, till at last he got back to his own town. He went to see his wife, but she was not at home. The

day after he went away, the King had taken her. So Emelyan went to the palace, and sent in a message to the

King: 'He has returned who went to "there, don't know where," and he has brought with him "that, don't know

But Emelyan said, 'Tell the King I am here today, and have brought what the King wanted. Let him come

'If it is not the right thing,' said Emelyan, 'it must be smashed, and may the devil take it!'

And Emelyan left the palace, carrying the drum and beating it. And as he beat it all the King's army ran out to

The King, from his window, began to shout at his army telling them not to follow Emelyan. They did not

When the King saw that, he gave orders that Emelyan's wife should be taken back to him, and he sent to ask

'It can't be done,' said Emelyan. 'I was told to smash it and to throw the splinters into the river.'

So Emelyan went down to the river carrying the drum, and the soldiers followed him. When he reached the

river bank Emelyan smashed the drum to splinters, and threw the splinters into the stream. And then all the

Emelyan took his wife and went home with her. And after that the King ceased to trouble him; and so they

IN the town of Surat, in India, was a coffeehouse where many travellers and foreigners from all parts of the

One day a learned Persian theologian visited this coffeehouse. He was a man who had spent his life

studying the nature of the Deity, and reading and writing books upon the subject. He had thought, read, and

written so much about God, that eventually he lost his wits became quite confused, and ceased even to

believe in the existence of a God. The Shah, hearing of this, had banished him from Persia.

After having argued all his life about the First Cause, this unfortunate theologian had ended by quite

perplexing himself, and instead of understanding that he had lost his own reason, he began to think that there

This man had an African slave who followed him everywhere. When the theologian entered the coffeehouse,

the slave remained outside, near the door sitting on a stone in the glare of the sun, and driving away the flies

that buzzed around him. The Persian having settled down on a divan in the coffeehouse, ordered himself a

cup of opium. When he had drunk it and the opium had begun to quicken the workings of his brain, he

'Of course there is,' said the slave, and immediately drew from under his girdle a small idol of wood.

'There,' said he, 'that is the God who has guarded me from the day of my birth. Every one in our country

This conversation between the theologian and his slave was listened to with surprise by the other guests in the

coffeehouse. They were astonished at the master's question, and yet more so at the slave's reply.

One of them, a Brahmin, on hearing the words spoken by the slave, turned to him and said:

'Miserable fool! Is it possible you believe that God can be carried under a man's girdle? There is one God

Brahma, and he is greater than the whole world, for he created it. Brahma is the One, the mighty God, and in

His honour are built the temples on the Ganges' banks, where his true priests, the Brahmins, worship him.

They know the true God, and none but they. A thousand score of years have passed, and yet through

revolution after revolution these priests have held their sway, because Brahma, the one true God, has

So spoke the Brahmin, thinking to convince every one; but a Jewish broker who was present replied to him,

'No! the temple of the true God is not in India. Neither does God protect the Brahmin caste. The true God is

not the God of the Brahmins, but of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. None does He protect but His chosen people,

the Israelites. From the commencement of the world, our nation has been beloved of Him, and ours alone. If

we are now scattered over the whole earth it is but to try us; for God has promised that He will one day gather

His people together in Jerusalem. Then, with the Temple of Jerusalem the wonder of the ancient world

restored to its splendour, shall Israel be established a ruler over all nations.'

So spoke the Jew, and burst into tears. He wished to say more, but an Italian missionary who was there

'What you are saying is untrue,' said he to the Jew. 'You attribute injustice to God. He cannot love your nation

above the rest. Nay rather, even if it be true that of old He favoured the Israelites, it is now nineteen hundred

years since they angered Him, and caused Him to destroy their nation and scatter them over the earth, so that

their faith makes no converts and has died out except here and there. God shows preference to no nation, but

calls all who wish to be saved to the bosom of the Catholic Church of Rome, the one outside whose borders

So spoke the Italian. But a Protestant minister who happened to be present, growing pale, turned to the

'How can you say that salvation belongs to your religion? Those only will be saved, who serve God according

Then a Turk, an officeholder in the customhouse at Surat, who was sitting in the coffeehouse smoking a

'Your belief in your Roman religion is vain,' said he. 'It was superseded twelve hundred years ago by the true

faith: that of Mohammed! You cannot but observe how the true Mohammedan faith continues to spread both

in Europe and Asia, and even in the enlightened country of China. You say yourselves that God has rejected

the Jews; and, as a proof, you quote the fact that the Jews are humiliated and their faith does not spread.

Confess then the truth of Mohammedanism, for it is triumphant and spreads far and wide. None will be saved

but the followers of Mohammed, God's latest prophet; and of them, only the followers of Omar, and not of

To this the Persian theologian, who was of the sect of Ali, wished to reply; but by this time a great dispute

had arisen among all the strangers of different faiths and creeds present. There were Abyssinian Christians,

Llamas from Thibet, Ismailians and Fireworshippers. They all argued about the nature of God, and how He

should be worshipped. Each of them asserted that in his country alone was the true God known and rightly

Every one argued and shouted, except a Chinaman, a student of Confucius, who sat quietly in one corner of

the coffeehouse, not joining in the dispute. He sat there drinking tea and listening to what the others said,

'You can confirm what I say, my good Chinaman. You hold your peace, but if you spoke I know you would

uphold my opinion. Traders from your country, who come to me for assistance, tell me that though many

religions have been introduced into China, you Chinese consider Mohammedanism the best of all, and adopt

it willingly. Confirm, then, my words, and tell us your opinion of the true God and of His prophet.'

'Yes, yes,' said the rest, turning to the Chinaman, 'let us hear what you think on the subject.'

The Chinaman, the student of Confucius, closed his eyes, and thought a while. Then he opened them again,

and drawing his hands out of the wide sleeves of his garment, and folding them on his breast, he spoke as

Sirs, it seems to me that it is chiefly pride that prevents men agreeing with one another on matters of faith. If

you care to listen to me, I will tell you a story which will explain this by an example.

I came here from China on an English steamer which had been round the world. We stopped for fresh water,

and landed on the east coast of the island of Sumatra. It was midday, and some of us, having landed, sat in

the shade of some coconut palms by the seashore, not far from a native village. We were a party of men of

As we sat there, a blind man approached us. We learnt afterwards that he had gone blind from gazing too

long and too persistently at the sun, trying to find out what it is, in order to seize its light.

He strove a long time to accomplish this, constantly looking at the sun; but the only result was that his eyes

'The light of the sun is not a liquid; for if it were a liquid it would be possible to pour it from one vessel into

another, and it would be moved, like water, by the wind. Neither is it fire; for if it were fire, water would

extinguish it. Neither is light a spirit, for it is seen by the eye, nor is it matter, for it cannot be moved.

Therefore, as the light of the sun is neither liquid, nor fire, nor spirit, nor matter, it is nothing!'

So he argued, and, as a result of always looking at the sun and always thinking about it, he lost both his sight

and his reason. And when he went quite blind, he became fully convinced that the sun did not exist.

With this blind man came a slave, who after placing his master in the shade of a coconut tree, picked up a

coconut from the ground, and began making it into a nightlight. He twisted a wick from the fibre of the

'Well, slave, was I not right when I told you there is no sun? Do you not see how dark it is? Yet people say

'I do not know what the sun is,' said the slave 'That is no business of mine. But I know what light is. Here, I

have made a nightlight, by the help of which I can serve you and find anything I want in the hut.'

A lame man with crutches, who was sitting near by heard these words, and laughed:

'You have evidently been blind all your life,' said he to the blind man, 'not to know what the sun is, I will tell

you what it is. The sun is a ball of fire, which rises every morning out of the sea and goes down again among

the mountains of our island each evening. We have all seen this, and if you had had your eyesight you too

'It is plain enough that you have never been beyond your own island. If you were not lame, and if you had

been out as I have in a fishingboat, you would know that the sun does not set among the mountains of our

island, but as it rises from the ocean every morning so it sets again in the sea every night. What I am telling

'I am astonished that a reasonable man should talk such nonsense. How can a ball of fire possibly descend

into the water and not be extinguished? The sun is not a ball of fire at all, it is the Deity named Deva who

rides for ever in a chariot round the golden mountain, Meru. Sometimes the evil serpents Ragu and Ketu

attack Deva and swallow him: and then the earth is dark. But our priests pray that the Deity may be released,

and then he is set free. Only such ignorant men as you, who have never been beyond their own island, can

'No,' said he, 'you also are wrong. The sun is not a Deity, and does not move only round India and its golden

mountain. I have sailed much on the Black Sea, and along the coasts of Arabia, and have been to Madagascar

and to the Philippines. The sun lights the whole earth, and not India alone. It does not circle round one

mountain, but rises far in the east, beyond the Isles of Japan, and sets far, far away in the west, beyond the

islands of England. That is why the Japanese call their country "Nippon," that is "the birth of the sun." I know

this well, for I have myself seen much, and heard more from my grandfather, who sailed to the very ends of

'There is no country,' he said, 'where people know so much about the sun's movements as in England. The

sun, as every one in England knows, rises nowhere and sets nowhere. It is always moving round the earth.

We can be sure of this for we have just been round the world ourselves, and nowhere knocked up against the

sun. Wherever we went, the sun showed itself in the morning and hid itself at night, just as it does here.'

And the Englishman took a stick and, drawing circles on the sand, tried to explain how the sun moves in the

heavens and goes round the world. But he was unable to explain it clearly, and pointing to the ship's pilot

The pilot, who was an intelligent man, had listened in silence to the talk till he was asked to speak. Now

'You are all misleading one another, and are yourselves deceived. The sun does not go round the earth, but

the earth goes round the sun, revolving as it goes and turning towards the sun in the course of each

twentyfour hours, not only Japan, and the Philippines and Sumatra where we now are, but Africa, and

Europe and America, and many lands besides. The sun does not shine for some one mountain, or for some

one island, or for some one sea, nor even for one earth alone, but for other planets as well as our earth. If you

would only look up at the heavens, instead of at the ground beneath your own feet, you might all understand

this, and would then no longer suppose that the sun shines for you, or for your country alone.'

Thus spoke the wise pilot, who had voyaged much about the world, and had gazed much upon the heavens

'So on matters of faith,' continued the Chinaman the student of Confucius, 'it is pride that causes error and

discord among men. As with the sun, so it is with God. Each man wants to have a special God of his own, or

at least a special God for his native land. Each nation wishes to confine in its own temples Him, whom the

'Can any temple compare with that which God Himself has built to unite all men in one faith and one

'All human temples are built on the model of this temple, which is God's own world. Every temple has its

fonts, its vaulted roof, its lamps, its pictures or sculptures, its inscriptions, its books of the law, its offerings,

its altars and its priests. But in what temple is there such a font as the ocean; such a vault as that of the

heavens; such lamps as the sun, moon, and stars; or any figures to be compared with living, loving,

mutuallyhelpful men? Where are there any records of God's goodness so easy to understand as the blessings

which God has strewn abroad for man's happiness? Where is there any book of the law so clear to each man

as that written in his heart? What sacrifices equal the selfdenials which loving men and women make for

one another? And what altar can be compared with the heart of a good man, on which God Himself accepts

'The higher a man's conception of God, the better will he know Him. And the better he knows God, the nearer

'Therefore, let him who sees the sun's whole light filling the world, refrain from blaming or despising the

superstitious man, who in his own idol sees one ray of that same light. Let him not despise even the

So spoke the Chinaman, the student of Confucius; and all who were present in the coffeehouse were silent,

NEAR the borders of France and Italy, on the shore of the Mediterranean Sea, lies a tiny little kingdom called

Monaco. Many a small country town can boast more inhabitants than this kingdom, for there are only about

seven thousand of them all told, and if all the land in the kingdom were divided there would not be an acre for

each inhabitant. But in this toy kingdom there is a real kinglet; and he has a palace, and courtiers, and

It is not a large army, only sixty men in all, but still it is an army. There were also taxes in this kingdom as

elsewhere: a tax on tobacco, and on wine and spirits and a polltax. But though the people there drink and

smoke as people do in other countries, there are so few of them that the King would have been hard put to it

to feed his courtiers and officials and to keep himself, if he had not found a new and special source of

revenue. This special revenue comes from a gaming house, where people play roulette. People play, and

whether they win or lose the keeper always gets a percentage on the turnover; and out of his profits he pays a

large sum to the King. The reason he pays so much is that it is the only such gambling establishment left in

Europe. Some of the little German Sovereigns used to keep gaming houses of the same kind, but some years

ago they were forbidden to do so. The reason they were stopped was because these gaming houses did so

much harm. A man would come and try his luck, then he would risk all he had and lose it, then he would

even risk money that did not belong to him and lose that too, and then, in despair, he would drown or shoot

himself. So the Germans forbade their rulers to make money in this way; but there was no one to stop the

So now every one who wants to gamble goes to Monaco. Whether they win or lose, the King gains by it. 'You

can't earn stone palaces by honest labour,' as the proverb says; and the Kinglet of Monaco knows it is a dirty

business, but what is he to do? He has to live; and to draw a revenue from drink and from tobacco is also not

a nice thing. So he lives and reigns, and rakes in the money, and holds his court with all the ceremony of a

He has his coronation, his levees; he rewards, sentences, and pardons, and he also has his reviews, councils,

laws, and courts of justice: just like other kings, only all on a smaller scale.

Now it happened a few years ago that a murder was committed in this toy King's domains. The people of that

kingdom are peaceable, and such a thing had not happened before. The judges assembled with much

ceremony and tried the case in the most judicial manner. There were judges, and prosecutors, and jurymen,

and barristers. They argued and judged, and at last they condemned the criminal to have his head cut off as

the law directs. So far so good. Next they submitted the sentence to the King. The King read the sentence and

There was only one hitch in the matter; and that was that they had neither a guillotine for cutting heads off,

nor an executioner. The Ministers considered the matter, and decided to address an inquiry to the French

Government, asking whether the French could not lend them a machine and an expert to cut off the criminal's

head; and if so, would the French kindly inform them what the cost would be. The letter was sent. A week

later the reply came: a machine and an expert could be supplied, and the cost would be 16,000 francs. This

was laid before the King. He thought it over. Sixteen thousand francs! 'The wretch is not worth the money,'

said he. 'Can't it be done, somehow, cheaper? Why 16,000 francs is more than two francs a head on the whole

So a Council was called to consider what could be done; and it was decided to send a similar inquiry to the

King of Italy. The French Government is republican, and has no proper respect for kings; but the King of

Italy was a brother monarch, and might be induced to do the thing cheaper. So the letter was written, and a

The Italian Government wrote that they would have pleasure in supplying both a machine and an expert; and

the whole cost would be 12,000 francs, including travelling expenses. This was cheaper, but still it seemed

too much. The rascal was really not worth the money. It would still mean nearly two francs more per head on

the taxes. Another Council was called. They discussed and considered how it could be done with less

expense. Could not one of the soldiers perhaps be got to do it in a rough and homely fashion? The General

was called and was asked: 'Can't you find us a soldier who would cut the man's head off? In war they don't

mind killing people. In fact, that is what they are trained for.' So the General talked it over with the soldiers to

see whether one of them would not undertake the job. But none of the soldiers would do it. 'No,' they said,

What was to be done? Again the Ministers considered and reconsidered. They assembled a Commission, and

a Committee, and a SubCommittee, and at last they decided that the best thing would be to alter the death

sentence to one of imprisonment for life. This would enable the King to show his mercy, and it would come

The King agreed to this, and so the matter was arranged. The only hitch now was that there was no suitable

prison for a man sentenced for life. There was a small lockup where people were sometimes kept

temporarily, but there was no strong prison fit for permanent use. However, they managed to find a place that

would do, and they put the young fellow there and placed a guard over him. The guard had to watch the

The prisoner remained there month after month till a year had passed. But when a year had passed, the

Kinglet, looking over the account of his income and expenditure one day, noticed a new item of expenditure.

This was for the keep of the criminal; nor was it a small item either. There was a special guard, and there was

also the man's food. It came to more than 600 francs a year. And the worst of it was that the fellow was still

young and healthy, and might live for fifty years. When one came to reckon it up, the matter was serious. It

'You must find some cheaper way of dealing with this rascal. The present plan is too expensive.' And the

Ministers met and considered and reconsidered, till one of them said: 'Gentlemen, in my opinion we must

dismiss the guard.' 'But then,' rejoined another Minister, 'the fellow will run away.' 'Well,' said the first

speaker, 'let him run away, and be hanged to him!' So they reported the result of their deliberations to the

Kinglet, and he agreed with them. The guard was dismissed, and they waited to see what would happen. All

that happened was that at dinnertime the criminal came out, and, not finding his guard, he went to the King's

kitchen to fetch his own dinner. He took what was given him, returned to the prison, shut the door on himself,

and stayed inside. Next day the same thing occurred. He went for his food at the proper time; but as for

running away, he did not show the least sign of it! What was to be done? They considered the matter again.

'We shall have to tell him straight out,' said they 'that we do not want to keep him.' So the Minister of Justice

'Why do you not run away?' said the Minister. 'There is no guard to keep you. You can go where you like,

'I daresay the King would not mind,' replied the man, 'but I have nowhere to go. What can I do? You have

ruined my character by your sentence, and people will turn their backs on me. Besides, I have got out of the

way of working. You have treated me badly. It is not fair. In the first place, when once you sentenced me to

death you ought to have executed me; but you did not do it. That is one thing. I did not complain about that.

Then you sentenced me to imprisonment for life and put a guard to bring me my food; but after a time you

took him away again and I had to fetch my own food. Again I did not complain. But now you actually want

me to go away! I can't agree to that. You may do as you like, but I won't go away!'

What was to be done? Once more the Council was summoned. What course could they adopt? The man

would not go. They reflected and considered. The only way to get rid of him was to offer him a pension. And

so they reported to the King. 'There is nothing else for it,' said they; 'we must get rid of him somehow.' The

'Well,' said he, 'I don't mind, so long as you undertake to pay it regularly. On that condition I am willing to

So the matter was settled. He received onethird of his annuity in advance, and left the King's dominions. It

was only a quarter of an hour by rail; and he emigrated, and settled just across the frontier, where he bought a

bit of land, started marketgardening, and now lives comfortably. He always goes at the proper time to draw

his pension. Having received it, he goes to the gaming tables, stakes two or three francs, sometimes wins and

It is a good thing that he did not commit his crime in a country where they do not grudge expense to cut a

THE Assyrian King, Esarhaddon, had conquered the kingdom of King Lailie, had destroyed and burnt the

towns, taken all the inhabitants captive to his own country, slaughtered the warriors, beheaded some

chieftains and impaled or flayed others, and had confined King Lailie himself in a cage.

As he lay on his bed one night, King Esarhaddon was thinking how he should execute Lailie, when suddenly

he heard a rustling near his bed, and opening his eyes saw an old man with a long grey bead and mild eyes.

'You and Lailie are one,' said the old man. 'You only imagine you are not Lailie, and that Lailie is not you.'

'What do you mean by that?' said the King. 'Here am I, lying on a soft bed; around me are obedient

menslaves and womenslaves, and tomorrow I shall feast with my friends as I did today; whereas Lailie

is sitting like a bird in a cage, and tomorrow he will be impaled, and with his tongue hanging out will

'And how about the fourteen thousand warriors I killed, with whose bodies I built a mound?' said the King. 'I

am alive, but they no longer exist. Does not that prove that I can destroy life?'

'Because I no longer see them. And, above all, they were tormented, but I was not. It was ill for them, but

'As soon as I begin to pour this water over you,' said the old man, filling a pitcher with the water, 'dip down

The old man tilted the pitcher over the King's head and the King bent his head till it was under water.

And as soon as King Esarhaddon was under the water he felt that he was no longer Esarhaddon, but some one

else. And, feeling himself to be that other man, he saw himself lying on a rich bed, beside a beautiful woman.

He had never seen her before, but he knew she was his wife. The woman raised herself and said to him:

'Dear husband, Lailie! You were wearied by yesterday's work and have slept longer than usual, and I have

guarded your rest, and have not roused you. But now the Princes await you in the Great Hall. Dress and go

And Esarhaddon understanding from these words that he was Lailie, and not feeling at all surprised at

this, but only wondering that he did not know it before rose, dressed, and went into the Great Hall where

The Princes greeted Lailie, their King, bowing to the ground, and then they rose, and at his word sat down

before him; and the eldest of the Princes began to speak, saying that it was impossible longer to endure the

insults of the wicked King Esarhaddon, and that they must make war on him. But Lailie disagreed, and gave

orders that envoys shall be sent to remonstrate with King Esarhaddon; and he dismissed the Princes from the

audience. Afterwards he appointed men of note to act as ambassadors, and impressed on them what they were

to say to King Esarhaddon. Having finished this business, Esarhaddon feeling himself to be Lailie rode

out to hunt wild asses. The hunt was successful. He killed two wild asses himself, and having returned home,

feasted with his friends, and witnessed a dance of slave girls. The next day he went to the Court, where he

was awaited by petitioners suitors, and prisoners brought for trial; and there as usual he decided the cases

submitted to him. Having finished this business, he again rode out to his favourite amusement: the hunt. And

again he was successful: this time killing with his own hand an old lioness, and capturing her two cubs. After

the hunt he again feasted with his friends, and was entertained with music and dances, and the night he spent

So, dividing his time between kingly duties and pleasures, he lived for days and weeks, awaiting the return of

the ambassadors he had sent to that King Esarhaddon who used to be himself. Not till a month had passed did

King Esarhaddon had ordered them to tell Lailie that what had been done to them the ambassadors

would be done to King Lailie himself also, unless he sent immediately a tribute of silver, gold, and

Lailie, formerly Esarhaddon, again assembled the Princes, and took counsel with them as to what he should

do. They all with one accord said that war must be made against Esarhaddon, without waiting for him to

attack them. The King agreed; and taking his place at the head of the army, started on the campaign. The

campaign lasts seven days. Each day the King rode round the army to rouse the courage of his warriors. On

the eighth day his army met that of Esarhaddon in a broad valley through which a river flowed. Lailie's army

fought bravely, but Lailie, formerly Esarhaddon, saw the enemy swarming down from the mountains like

ants, overrunning the valley and overwhelming his army; and, in his chariot, he flung himself into the midst

of the battle, hewing and felling the enemy. But the warriors of Lailie were but as hundreds, while those of

Esarhaddon were as thousands; and Lailie felt himself wounded and taken prisoner. Nine days he journeyed

with other captives, bound, and guarded by the warriors of Esarhaddon. On the tenth day he reached Nineveh,

and was placed in a cage. Lailie suffered not so much from hunger and from his wound as from shame and

impotent rage. He felt how powerless he was to avenge himself on his enemy for all he was suffering. All he

could do was to deprive his enemies of the pleasure of seeing his sufferings; and he firmly resolved to endure

courageously without a murmur, all they could do to him. For twenty days he sat in his cage, awaiting

execution. He saw his relatives and friends led out to death; he heard the groans of those who were executed:

some had their hands and feet cut off, others were flayed alive, but he showed neither disquietude, nor pity,

nor fear. He saw the wife he loved, bound, and led by two black eunuchs. He knew she was being taken as a

slave to Esarhaddon. That, too, he bore without a murmur. But one of the guards placed to watch him said, 'I

pity you, Lailie; you were a king, but what are you now?' And hearing these words, Lailie remembered all he

had lost. He clutched the bars of his cage, and, wishing to kill himself, beat his head against them. But he had

not the strength to do so and, groaning in despair, he fell upon the floor of his cage.

At last two executioners opened his cage door, and having strapped his arms tight behind him, led him to the

place of execution, which was soaked with blood. Lailie saw a sharp stake dripping with blood, from which

the corpse of one of his friends had just been torn, and he understood that this had been done that the stake

might serve for his own execution. They stripped Lailie of his clothes. He was startled at the leanness of his

once strong, handsome body. The two executioners seized that body by its lean thighs; they lifted him up and

'This is death, destruction!' thought Lailie, and, forgetful of his resolve to remain bravely calm to the end, he

'But this cannot be,' thought he. 'Surely I am asleep. It is a dream.' And he made an effort to rouse himself,

and did indeed awake, to find himself neither Esarhaddon nor Lailie but some kind of an animal. He was

astonished that he was an animal, and astonished, also, at not having known this before.

He was grazing in a valley, tearing the tender grass with his teeth, and brushing away flies with his long tail.

Around him was frolicking a longlegged, darkgray asscolt, striped down its back. Kicking up its hind

legs, the colt galloped full speed to Esarhaddon, and poking him under the stomach with its smooth little

muzzle, searched for the teat, and, finding it, quieted down, swallowing regularly. Esarhaddon understood

that he was a sheass, the colt's mother, and this neither surprised nor grieved him, but rather gave him

pleasure. He experienced a glad feeling of simultaneous life in himself and in his offspring.

But suddenly something flew near with a whistling sound and hit him in the side, and with its sharp point

entered his skin and flesh. Feeling a burning pain, Esarhaddon who was at the same time the ass tore

the udder from the colt's teeth, and laying back his ears galloped to the herd from which he had strayed. The

colt kept up with him, galloping by his side. They had already nearly reached the herd, which had started off,

when another arrow in full flight struck the colt's neck. It pierced the skin and quivered in its flesh. The colt

sobbed piteously and fell upon its knees. Esarhaddon could not abandon it, and remained standing over it.

The colt rose, tottered on its long, thin legs, and again fell. A fearful twolegged being a man ran up

'This cannot be; it is still a dream! thought Esarhaddon, and made a last effort to awake. 'Surely I am not

He cried out, and at the same instant lifted his head out of the font. . . . The old man was standing by him,

'Long?' replied the old man, 'you have only dipped your head under water and lifted it again; see, the water is

'Do you now understand,' continued the old man, 'that Lailie is you, and the warriors you put to death were

you also? And not the warriors only, but the animals which you slew when hunting and ate at your feasts

were also you. You thought life dwelt in you alone but I have drawn aside the veil of delusion, and have let

you see that by doing evil to others you have done it to yourself also. Life is one in them all, and yours is but

a portion of this same common life. And only in that one part of life that is yours, can you make life better or

worse increasing or decreasing it. You can only improve life in yourself by destroying the barriers that

divide your life from that of others, and by considering others as yourself, and loving them. By so doing you

increase your share of life. You injure your life when you think of it as the only life, and try to add to its

welfare at the expense of other lives. By so doing you only lessen it. To destroy the life that dwells in others

is beyond your power. The life of those you have slain has vanished from your eyes, but is not destroyed.

You thought to lengthen your own life and to shorten theirs, but you cannot do this. Life knows neither time

nor space. The life of a moment, and the life of a thousand years: your life and the life of all the visible and

invisible beings in the world, are equal. To destroy life, or to alter it, is impossible; for life is the one thing

Next morning King Esarhaddon gave orders that Lailie and all the prisoners should be set at liberty and that

On the third day he called his son Assurbanipal, and gave the kingdom over into his hands; and he himself

went into the desert to think over all he had learnt. Afterwards he went about as a wanderer through the towns

and villages, preaching to the people that all life is one, and that when men wish to harm others, they really

God, say they, at first made men so that they had no need to work: they needed neither houses, nor clothes,

nor food, and they all lived till they were a hundred, and did not know what illness was.

When, after some time, God looked to see how people were living, he saw that instead of being happy in their

life, they had quarrelled with one another, and, each caring for himself, had brought matters to such a pass

Then God said to himself: 'This comes of their living separately, each for himself.' And to change this state of

things, God so arranged matters that it became impossible for people to live without working. To avoid

suffering from cold and hunger, they were now obliged to build dwellings, and to dig the ground, and to grow

'They cannot make their tools, prepare and transport their timber, build their houses, sow and gather their

'It will make them understand that the more heartily they work together, the more they will have and the

Time passed on, and again God came to see how men were living, and whether they were now happy.

But he found them living worse than before. They worked together (that they could not help doing), but not

all together, being broken up into little groups. And each group tried to snatch work from other groups, and

they hindered one another, wasting time and strength in their struggles, so that things went ill with them all.

Having seen that this, too, was not well, God decided so as to arrange things that man should not know the

'Knowing that each of them may die at any moment,' thought God, 'they will not, by grasping at gains that

But it turned out otherwise. When God returned to see how people were living, he saw that their life was as

Those who were strongest, availing themselves of the fact that men might die at any time, subdued those who

were weaker, killing some and threatening others with death. And it came about that the strongest and their

descendants did no work, and suffered from the weariness of idleness, while those who were weaker had to

work beyond their strength, and suffered from lack of rest. Each set of men feared and hated the other. And

Having seen all this, God, to mend matters, decided to make use of one last means; he sent all kinds of

sickness among men. God thought that when all men were exposed to sickness they would understand that

those who are well should have pity on those who are sick, and should help them, that when they themselves

And again God went away, but when He came back to see how men lived now that they were subject to

sicknesses, he saw that their life was worse even than before. The very sickness that in God's purpose should

have united men, had divided them more than ever. Those men who were strong enough to make others work,

forced them also to wait on them in times of sickness; but they did not, in their turn, look after others who

were ill. And those who were forced to work for others and to look after them when sick, were so worn with

work that they had no time to look after their own sick, but left them without attendance. That the sight of

sick folk might not disturb the pleasures of the wealthy, houses were arranged in which these poor people

suffered and died, far from those whose sympathy might have cheered them, and in the arms of hired people

who nursed them without compassion, or even with disgust. Moreover, people considered many of the

illnesses infectious, and, fearing to catch them, not only avoided the sick, but even separated themselves from

Then God said to Himself: 'If even this means will not bring men to understand wherein their happiness lies,

And, left to themselves, men lived long before they understood that they all ought to, and might be, happy.

Only in the very latest times have a few of them begun to understand that work ought not to be a bugbear to

some and like galleyslavery for others, but should be a common and happy occupation, uniting all men.

They have begun to understand that with death constantly threatening each of us, the only reasonable

business of every man is to spend the years, months, hours, and minutes, allotted him in unity and love.

They have begun to understand that sickness, far from dividing men, should, on the contrary, give

IT once occurred to a certain king, that if he always knew the right time to begin everything; if he knew who

were the right people to listen to, and whom to avoid, and, above all, if he always knew what was the most

And this thought having occurred to him, he had it proclaimed throughout his kingdom that he would give a

great reward to any one who would teach him what was the right time for every action, and who were the

most necessary people, and how he might know what was the most important thing to do.

And learned men came to the King, but they all answered his questions differently.

In reply to the first question, some said that to know the right time for every action, one must draw up in

advance, a table of days, months and years, and must live strictly according to it. Only thus, said they, could

everything be done at its proper time. Others declared that it was impossible to decide beforehand the right

time for every action; but that, not letting oneself be absorbed in idle pastimes, one should always attend to

all that was going on, and then do what was most needful. Others, again, said that however attentive the King

might be to what was going on, it was impossible for one man to decide correctly the right time for every

action, but that he should have a Council of wise men, who would help him to fix the proper time for

But then again others said there were some things which could not wait to be laid before a Council, but about

which one had at once to decide whether to undertake them or not. But in order to decide that one must know

beforehand what was going to happen. It is only magicians who know that; and, therefore in order to know

Equally various were the answers to the second question. Some said, the people the King most needed were

his councillors; others, the priests; others, the doctors; while some said the warriors were the most necessary.

To the third question, as to what was the most important occupation: some replied that the most important

thing in the world was science. Others said it was skill in warfare; and others, again, that it was religious

All the answers being different, the King agreed with none of them, and gave the reward to none. But still

wishing to find the right answers to his questions, he decided to consult a hermit, widely renowned for his

The hermit lived in a wood which he never quitted and he received none but common folk. So the King put

on simple clothes, and before reaching the hermit's cell dismounted from his horse, and, leaving his

When the King approached, the hermit was digging the ground in front of his hut. Seeing the King, he

greeted him and went on digging. The hermit was frail and weak, and each time he stuck his spade into the

The King went up to him and said: 'I have come to you, wise hermit, to ask you to answer three questions:

How can I learn to do the right thing at the right time? Who are the people I most need, and to whom should

I, therefore, pay more attention than to the rest? And, what affairs are the most important and need my first

The hermit listened to the King, but answered nothing. He just spat on his hand and recommenced digging.

'You are tired,' said the King, 'let me take the spade and work awhile for you.'

'Thanks!' said the hermit, and, giving the spade to the King, he sat down on the ground.

When he had dug two beds, the King stopped and repeated his questions. The hermit again gave no answer,

But the King did not give him the spade, and continued to dig. One hour passed, and another. The sun began

to sink behind the trees, and the King at last stuck the spade into the ground, and said:

'I came to you, wise man, for an answer to my questions. If you can give me none, tell me so, and I will

The King turned round, and saw a bearded man come running out of the wood. The man held his hands

pressed against his stomach, and blood was flowing from under them. When he reached the King, he fell

fainting on the ground moaning feebly. The King and the hermit unfastened the man's clothing. There was a

large wound in his stomach. The King washed it as best he could, and bandaged it with his handkerchief and

with a towel the hermit had. But the blood would not stop flowing, and the King again and again removed the

bandage soaked with warm blood, and washed and rebandaged the wound. When at last the blood ceased

flowing, the man revived and asked for something to drink. The King brought fresh water and gave it to him.

Meanwhile the sun had set, and it had become cool. So the King, with the hermit's help, carried the wounded

man into the hut and laid him on the bed. Lying on the bed the man closed his eyes and was quiet; but the

King was so tired with his walk and with the work he had done, that he crouched down on the threshold, and

also fell asleep so soundly that he slept all through the short summer night. When he awoke in the

morning, it was long before he could remember where he was, or who was the strange bearded man lying on

'Forgive me!' said the bearded man in a weak voice, when he saw that the King was awake and was looking at

'You do not know me, but I know you. I am that enemy of yours who swore to revenge himself on you,

because you executed his brother and seized his property. I knew you had gone alone to see the hermit, and I

resolved to kill you on your way back. But the day passed and you did not return. So I came out from my

ambush to find you, and I came upon your bodyguard, and they recognized me, and wounded me. I escaped

from them, but should have bled to death had you not dressed my wound. I wished to kill you, and you have

saved my life. Now, if I live, and if you wish it, I will serve you as your most faithful slave, and will bid my

The King was very glad to have made peace with his enemy so easily, and to have gained him for a friend,

and he not only forgave him, but said he would send his servants and his own physician to attend him, and

Having taken leave of the wounded man, the King went out into the porch and looked around for the hermit.

Before going away he wished once more to beg an answer to the questions he had put. The hermit was

outside, on his knees, sowing seeds in the beds that had been dug the day before.

'You have already been answered!' said the hermit still crouching on his thin legs, and looking up at the King,

'Do you not see,' replied the hermit. 'If you had not pitied my weakness yesterday, and had not dug these beds

for me, but had gone your way, that man would have attacked you, and you would have repented of not

having stayed with me. So the most important time was when you were digging the beds; and I was the most

important man; and to do me good was your most important business. Afterwards, when that man ran to us,

the most important time was when you were attending to him, for if you had not bound up his wounds he

would have died without having made peace with you. So he was the most important man, and what you did

for him was your most important business. Remember then: there is only one time that is important Now!

It is the most important time because it is the only time when we have any power. The most necessary man is

he with whom you are, for no man knows whether he will ever have dealings with any one else: and the most

important affair is, to do him good, because for that purpose alone was man sent into this life!'