“Finemastersthese——masterswhogrudgeoneagroat，andsquanderarouble！WhatifafireWEREtobreakout？Oh，theblockheads！“
　　Presently，theproprietorsinpersonissuedintothecourtyard——thestout，baldPeterBirkin，amanwhosefacewasflushedeventothewhitesofhisshiftyeyes，and，closebehindhim，ekehisshadow，JonahBirkin——apersonofsandy，sullenmien，andoverhangingbrows，anddull，heavyeyes。
　　“Goodday，dearsir，“saidPeterBirkinthinly，aswithapuffyhandheraisedfromhisheadaclothcap，whileJonahnodded。
　　Andthen，withasidelongglanceatmyself，askedinadeepbassvoice:
　　“Whoisthisyoungman？“
　　Largeandimportantlikepeacocks，thepairthenshuffledacrossthewetyard，andinsodoing，wenttomuchtroubletoavoidsoilingtheirpolishedshoes。NextPetersaidtohisbrother:
　　“Haveyounoticedthatthewater-buttsarerotted？Oh，thatfineYakinika！Heoughtlongagotohavebeendismissed。“
　　“Whoisthatyoungmanoverthere？“Jonahrepeatedwithanairofasperity。
　　“Thesonofhisfatherandmother，“Gubinrepliedquietly，andwithoutsomuchasaglanceatthebrothers。
　　“Well，comealong，“snuffledPeterwithadrawlingofhisvowels。“Itishightimethatweweremoving。Itdoesn’tmatterwhotheyoungmanmaybe。“
　　Andwiththattheyslip-sloppedacrosstotheentrancegates，whileGubingazedafterthemwithknittedbrows，andasthebrothersweredisappearingthroughthewicketsaidcarelessly:
　　“Theoldsheep！Theylivesolelybythewitsoftheirstepmother，andifitwerenotforher，theywouldlongagohavecometogrief。Yes，sheisawomanbeyondwordsclever。Onceuponatimetherewerethreebrothers——Peter，Alexis，andJonah；
　　but，unfortunately，Alexisgotkilledinabrawl。Afine，tallfellowHEwas，whereasthesetwoareapairofgluttons，likeeveryoneelseinthistown。Notfornothingdothreeloavesfigureonthemunicipalarms！Now，toworkagain！Orshallwetakearest？“
　　Heretheresteppedontotheverandaatall，well-grownyoungwomaninanopenpinkbodiceandablueskirtwho，shadingblueeyeswithherhand，scannedthecourtyardandthesteps，andsaidwithsomediffidence:
　　“Goodday，YakovVasilitch。“
　　Withagood-humouredglanceinresponse，andhismouthopen，Gubinwavedahandingreeting:
　　“GooddaytoYOU，NadezhdaIvanovna，“hereplied。“Howareyouthismorning？“
　　Somehowthismadeherblush，andcrossherarmsuponheramplebosom，whileherkindly，rounded，eminentlyRussianfaceevincedtheghostofashysmile。Atthesametime，itwasafacewhereinnotasinglefeaturewasofakindtoremainfixedinthememory，afaceasvacantasthoughnaturehadforgottentostampthereonasinglewish。Hence，evenwhenthewomansmiledthereseemedtoremainadoubtwhetherthesmilehadreallymaterialised。
　　“HowisNataliaVasilievna？“continuedGubin。
　　“Muchasusual，“thewomanansweredsoftly。
　　Whereafterhesitantly，andwithdowncasteyes，sheessayedtocrossthecourtyard。AsshepassedmeIcaughtawhiffofraspberriesandcurrants。
　　Disappearingintothegreymistthroughasmalldoorwithironstaples，shesoonreissuedthencewithahencoop，and，seatingherselfonthestepsofthedoorway，andsettingthecooponherknees，tookbetweenhertwolargepalmssomefluttering，chirping，downy，goldenchicks，andraisedthemtoherruddylipsandcheekswithamurmurof:
　　“0hmylittledarlings！0hmylittledarlings！“
　　Andinhervoice，somehow，therewasanoteasofintoxication，ofabandonment。Meanwhiledull，reddishsunbeamswerebeginningtopeerthroughthefence，andtowarmthelong，pointedstapleswithwhichitwasfastenedtogether。Whileinastreamofwaterthatwasdrippingfromtheeaves，andtricklingoverthefloorofthecourt，andaroundthewoman’sfeet，asinglebeamwasbathingandquiveringasthoughitwouldfaineffectanadvancetothewoman’slapandthehencoop，and，withthesoft，downychicks，enjoythecaressesofthewoman’sbarewhitearms。
　　“Ah，littlethings！“againshemurmured。“Ah，littlechildrenofmine！“
　　UponthatGubinsuddenlydesistedfromhistaskofhaulingupthebucket，and，ashesteadiedtheropewithhisarmsraisedabovehishead，saidquickly:
　　“NadezhdaIvanovna，yououghtindeedtohavehadsomechildren——sixattheleast！“
　　Yetnoreplycame，nordidthewomanevenlookathim。
　　Theraysofthesunwerenowspreading，smokelikeandgreyish-yellow，overthesilverriver。Abovetheriver’scalmbedamuslintextureofmistwascoiling。Againstthenebulousheavenstheblueoftheforestwasrearingitselfamidthefragrant，pungentfumesfromtheburningtimber。
　　Yetstillasleepamiditsshelteringhalf-circleofforestwasthequietlittletownofMiamlin，whilebehindit，andencompassingitaswithapairofdarkwings，theforestinquestionlookedasthoughitwererufflingitsfeathersinpreparationforfurtherflightbeyondthepointwhere，thepeacefulOkareached，thetreesstooddarkening，overshadowingthewater’scleardepths，andlookingatthemselvestherein。
　　Yet，thoughthehourwassoearly，everythingseemedtohaveaboutitanairofsadness，amienasthoughthedaylackedpromise，asthoughitsfacewereveiledandmournful，asthough，notyetcometobirth，itneverthelesswerefeelingwearyinadvance。
　　SeatingmyselfbyGubinonsometrampledstrawinthehutordinarilyusedbythewatchmanoftheBirkins’extensiveorchard，Ifoundthat，owingtotheorchardbeingsetonahillside，Icouldseeoverthetopsoftheappleandpearandfigtrees，wheretheirtopshungbespangledwithdewaswithquicksilver，andviewthewholetownanditsmulticolouredchurches，yellow，newly-paintedprison，andyellow-paintedbank。
　　Andwhileinthetown’slurid，four-squarebuildingsIcouldtraceacertainresemblancetotheacesofclubsstampeduponconvicts’backs，inthegreystripsofthestreetsIcouldtraceacertainresemblancetoanumberofrentsinanold，ragged，faded，dustycoat。Indeed，thatmorningallcomparisonsseemedtotakeonatingeofmelancholy；thereasonbeingthatthroughoutthepreviouseveningtherehadbeenmoaninginmysoulamournfuldirgeonthefuturelife。
　　Withnothing，however，werethechurchesofthetownofwhichI
　　amspeakingexactlycomparable，formanyofthemhadattainedadegreeofbeautythecontemplationofwhichcausedthetowntoassumethroughout——adifferent，amorepleasingandseductive，aspect。ThoughtItomyself:“Wouldthatmenhadfashionedallotherbuildingsinthetownasthechurcheshavebeenfashioned！“
　　Oneofthelatter，anold，squatedificetheblankwindowsofwhichweredeeplysunkeninthestuccoedwalls，wasknownasthe“Prince’sChurch，“forthereasonthatitenshrinedtheremainsofalocalPrinceandhiswife，personsofwhomitstoodrecordedthat“theydidpassalltheirlivesinkindly，unchanginglove。“……
　　ThefollowingnightGubinandIchancedtoseePeterBirkin’stall，pale，timidyoungwifetraversethegardenonherwaytoatrystinthewashhousewithherlover，theprecentorofthePrince’sChurch。Andascladinasimplegown，andbarefooted，andhavingherampleshouldersswathedinanold，goldjacketorshawlofsomesort，shecrossedtheorchardbyapathrunningbetweentwolinesofappletrees；shewalkedwiththeunhastinggaitofacatwhichiscrossingayardafterashowerofrain，andfromtimetotime，wheneverapuddleisencountered，liftsandshakesfastidiouslyoneofitssoftpaws。
　　Probably，inthewoman’scase，thiscameofthefactthatthingskeptprickingandticklinghersolesassheproceeded。Also，herknees，Icouldsee，weretrembling，andherstephadinitacertainhesitancy，acertainlackofassurance。
　　Meanwhile，bendingoverthegardenfromthewarmnightsky，themoon’skindlyvisage，thoughonthewane，wasshiningbrightly；
　　andwhenthewomanemergedfromtheshadowofthetreesIcoulddiscernthedarkpatchesofhereyes，herrounded，half-partedlips，andthethickplaitofhairwhichlayacrossherbosom。
　　Also，inthemoonlightherbodicehadassumedabluishtinge，sothatshelookedalmostphantasmal；andwhensoundlessly，movingasthoughonair，shesteppedbackintotheshadowofthetrees，thatshadowseemedtolighten。
　　Allthishappenedatmidnight，orthereabouts，butneitherofuswasyetasleep，owingtothefactthatGubinhadbeentellingmesomeinterestingstoriesconcerningthetownanditsfamiliesandinhabitants。However，assoonashedescriedthewomanloominglikeaghost，heleapttohisfeetincomicalterror，thensubsidedontothestrawagain，contractedhisbodyasthoughhewereinconvulsions，andhurriedlymadethesignofthecross。
　　“OhJesusourLord！“hegasped。“Tellmewhatthatis，tellmewhatthatis！“
　　“Keepquiet，you，“Iurged。
　　Instead，lurchinginmydirection，henudgedmewithhisarm，“IsitNadezhda，thinkyou？“hewhispered。
　　“Itis。“
　　“Phew！Thesceneseemslikeadream。Justinthesameway，andintheverysameplace，didhermother-in-law，Petrushka’sstepmother，usetocomeandwalk。Yes，itwasjustlikethis。“
　　Then，rollingover，facedownwards，hebrokeintosubdued，maliciouschuckles；whereafter，seizingmyhandandsawingitupanddown，hewhisperedamidhisexultantpants: