Varvarahasgrownevenfatterandwhiter，andasbeforesheisactiveingoodworks，andAksinyadoesnotinterferewithher。
　　Thereissomuchjamnowthattheyhavenottimetoeatitbeforethefreshfruitcomesin；itgoessugary，andVarvaraalmostshedstears，notknowingwhattodowithit。
　　TheyhavebeguntoforgetaboutAnisim。Aletterhascomefromhimwritteninverseonabigsheetofpaperasthoughitwereapetition，allinthesamesplendidhandwriting。EvidentlyhisfriendSamorodovwassharinghispunishment。Undertheversesinanugly，scarcelylegiblehandwritingtherewasasingleline:“I
　　amillhereallthetime；Iamwretched，forChrist’ssakehelpme！“
　　Towardsevening——itwasafineautumnday——oldTsybukinwassittingnearthechurchgates，withthecollarofhisfurcoatturnedupandnothingofhimcouldbeseenbuthisnoseandthepeakofhiscap。AttheotherendofthelongseatwassittingElizarovthecontractor，andbesidehimYakovtheschoolwatchman，atoothlessoldmanofseventy。Crutchandthewatchmanweretalking。
　　“Childrenoughttogivefoodanddrinktotheold。Honourthyfatherandmother“Yakovwassayingwithirritation，“whileshe，thisdaughter-in-law，hasturnedherfather-in-lawoutofhisownhouse；theoldmanhasneitherfoodnordrink，whereishetogo？Hehasnothadamorselforthesethreedays。“
　　“Threedays！“saidCrutch，amazed。
　　“Herehesitsanddoesnotsayaword。Hehasgrownfeeble。Andwhybesilent？Heoughttoprosecuteher，theywouldn’tflatterherinthepolicecourt。“
　　“Wouldn’tflatterwhom？“askedCrutch，nothearing。
　　“What？“
　　“Thewoman’sallright，shedoesherbest。Intheirlineofbusinesstheycan’tgetonwithoutthatwithoutsin，I
　　mean。“
　　“Fromhisownhouse，“Yakovwentonwithirritation。“Saveupandbuyyourownhouse，thenturnpeopleoutofit！Sheisaniceone，tobesure！Apla-ague！“
　　Tsybukinlistenedanddidnotstir。
　　“Whetheritisyourownhouseorothers’itmakesnodifferencesolongasitiswarmandthewomendon’tscold“saidCrutch，andhelaughed。“WhenIwasyoungIwasveryfondofmyNastasya。Shewasaquietwoman。Andsheusedtobealwaysatit:
　　’Buyahouse，Makaritch！Buyahouse，Makaritch！Buyahouse，Makaritch！’Shewasdyingandyetshekeptonsaying，’Buyyourselfaracingdroshky，Makaritch，thatyoumaynothavetowalk。’AndIboughthernothingbutgingerbread。“
　　“Herhusband’sdeafandstupid，“Yakovwenton，nothearingCrutch；“aregularfool，justlikeagoose。Hecan’tunderstandanything。Hitagooseontheheadwithastickandeventhenitdoesnotunderstand。“
　　Crutchgotuptogohometothefactory。Yakovalsogotup，andbothofthemwentofftogether，stilltalking。WhentheyhadgonefiftypacesoldTsybukingotup，too，andwalkedafterthem，steppinguncertainlyasthoughonslipperyice。
　　Thevillagewasalreadyplungedintheduskofeveningandthesunonlygleamedontheupperpartoftheroadwhichranwrigglinglikeasnakeuptheslope。Oldwomenwerecomingbackfromthewoodsandchildrenwiththem；theywerebringingbasketsofmushrooms。Peasantwomenandgirlscameinacrowdfromthestationwheretheyhadbeenloadingthetruckswithbricks，andtheirnosesandtheircheeksundertheireyeswerecoveredwithredbrick-dust。Theyweresinging。AheadofthemallwasLipasinginginahighvoice，withhereyesturnedupwardstothesky，breakingintotrillsasthoughtriumphantandecstaticthatatlastthedaywasoverandshecouldrest。InthecrowdwashermotherPraskovya，whowaswalkingwithabundleinherarmsandbreathlessasusual。
　　“Good-evening，Makaritch！“criedLipa，seeingCrutch。
　　“Good-evening，darling！“
　　“Good-evening，Lipinka，“criedCrutchdelighted。“Deargirlsandwomen，lovetherichcarpenter！Ho-ho！Mylittlechildren，mylittlechildren。Crutchgaveagulp。Mydearlittleaxes！“
　　CrutchandYakovwentonfurtherandcouldstillbeheardtalking。ThenafterthemthecrowdwasmetbyoldTsybukinandtherewasasuddenhush。LipaandPraskovyahaddroppedalittlebehind，andwhentheoldmanwasonalevelwiththemLipaboweddownlowandsaid:
　　“Good-evening，GrigoryPetrovitch。“
　　Hermother，too，boweddown。Theoldmanstoppedand，sayingnothing，lookedatthetwoinsilence；hislipswerequiveringandhiseyesfulloftears。Lipatookoutofhermother’sbundleapieceofsavouryturnoverandgaveithim。Hetookitandbeganeating。
　　Thesunhadbynowset:itsglowdiedawayontheroadabove。Itgrewdarkandcool。LipaandPraskovyawalkedonandforsometimetheykeptcrossingthemselves。
　　ASULTRY，stiflingmidday。Notacloudletinthesky。Thesun-bakedgrasshadadisconsolate，hopelesslook:eveniftherewererainitcouldneverbegreenagain。Theforeststoodsilent，motionless，asthoughitwerelookingatsomethingwithitstree-topsorexpectingsomething。
　　Attheedgeoftheclearingatall，narrow-shoulderedmanoffortyinaredshirt，inpatchedtrousersthathadbeenagentleman’s，andinhighboots，wasslouchingalongwithalazy，shamblingstep。Hewassaunteringalongtheroad。Ontherightwasthegreenoftheclearing，ontheleftagoldenseaofriperyestretchedtotheveryhorizon。Hewasredandperspiring，awhitecapwithastraightjockeypeak，evidentlyagiftfromsomeopen-handedyounggentleman，perchedjauntilyonhishandsomeflaxenhead。Acrosshisshoulderhungagame-bagwithablackcocklyinginit。Themanheldadouble-barrelledguncockedinhishand，andscreweduphiseyesinthedirectionofhisleanolddogwhowasrunningonaheadsniffingthebushes。Therewasstillnessallround，notasoundeverythinglivingwashidingawayfromtheheat。
　　“YegorVlassitch！“thehuntsmansuddenlyheardasoftvoice。
　　Hestartedand，lookinground，scowled。Besidehim，asthoughshehadsprungoutoftheearth，stoodapale-facedwomanofthirtywithasickleinherhand。Shewastryingtolookintohisface，andwassmilingdiffidently。
　　“Oh，itisyou，Pelagea！“saidthehuntsman，stoppinganddeliberatelyuncockingthegun。“H’m！Howhaveyoucomehere？“
　　“Thewomenfromourvillageareworkinghere，soIhavecomewiththem。Asalabourer，YegorVlassitch。“
　　“Oh“growledYegorVlassitch，andslowlywalkedon。
　　Pelageafollowedhim。Theywalkedinsilencefortwentypaces。
　　“Ihavenotseenyouforalongtime，YegorVlassitch“saidPelagealookingtenderlyatthehuntsman’smovingshoulders。“I
　　havenotseenyousinceyoucameintoourhutatEasterforadrinkofwateryoucameinatEasterforaminuteandthenGodknowshowdrunkyouscoldedandbeatmeandwentawayIhavebeenwaitingandwaitingI’vetiredmyeyesoutlookingforyou。Ah，YegorVlassitch，YegorVlassitch！
　　youmightlookinjustonce！“
　　“Whatisthereformetodothere？“
　　“Ofcoursethereisnothingforyoutodothoughtobesurethereistheplacetolookafter。Toseehowthingsaregoing。Youarethemaster。Isay，youhaveshotablackcock，YegorVlassitch！Yououghttositdownandrest！“
　　AsshesaidallthisPelagealaughedlikeasillygirlandlookedupatYegor’sface。Herfacewassimplyradiantwithhappiness。
　　“Sitdown？Ifyoulike“saidYegorinatoneofindifference，andhechoseaspotbetweentwofir-trees。“Whyareyoustanding？Yousitdowntoo。“
　　Pelageasatalittlewayoffinthesunand，ashamedofherjoy，putherhandoverhersmilingmouth。Twominutespassedinsilence。
　　“Youmightcomeforonce，“saidPelagea。
　　“Whatfor？“sighedYegor，takingoffhiscapandwipinghisredforeheadwithhishand。“Thereisnoobjectinmycoming。Togoforanhourortwoisonlywasteoftime，it’ssimplyupsettingyou，andtolivecontinuallyinthevillagemysoulcouldnotendure。YouknowyourselfIamapamperedman。Iwantabedtosleepin，goodteatodrink，andrefinedconversation……Iwantalltheniceties，whileyouliveinpovertyanddirtinthevillage。Icouldn’tstanditforaday。SupposetherewereanedictthatImustlivewithyou，Ishouldeithersetfiretothehutorlayhandsonmyself。FromaboyI’vehadthisloveforease；thereisnohelpforit。“
　　“Whereareyoulivingnow？“
　　“Withthegentlemanhere，DmitryIvanitch，asahuntsman。I
　　furnishhistablewithgame，buthekeepsmemoreforhispleasurethananything。“
　　“That’snotproperworkyou’redoing，YegorVlassitch。Forotherpeopleit’sapastime，butwithyouit’slikeatrade
　　likerealwork。“
　　“Youdon’tunderstand，yousilly，“saidYegor，gazinggloomilyatthesky。“Youhaveneverunderstood，andaslongasyouliveyouwillneverunderstandwhatsortofmanIam。Youthinkofmeasafoolishman，gonetothebad，buttoanyonewhounderstandsIamthebestshotthereisinthewholedistrict。
　　Thegentryfeelthat，andtheyhaveevenprintedthingsaboutmeinamagazine。Thereisn’tamantobecomparedwithmeasasportsman。AnditisnotbecauseIampamperedandproudthatIlookdownuponyourvillagework。Frommychildhood，youknow，Ihaveneverhadanycallingapartfromgunsanddogs。Iftheytookawaymygun，Iusedtogooutwiththefishing-hook，iftheytookthehookIcaughtthingswithmyhands。AndIwentinforhorse-dealingtoo，IusedtogotothefairswhenIhadthemoney，andyouknowthatifapeasantgoesinforbeingasportsman，orahorse-dealer，it’sgood-byetotheplough。Oncethespiritoffreedomhastakenamanyouwillneverrootitoutofhim。Inthesameway，ifagentlemangoesinforbeinganactororforanyotherart，hewillnevermakeanofficialoralandowner。Youareawoman，andyoudonotunderstand，butonemustunderstandthat。“