"On the road near Nikita's buckwheat . . . the engineer with his dog . . ." Rodion began, after a rest, scratching his ribs and his elbow. " 'You must pay,' says he . . . 'coin,' says he. . . . Coin or no coin, we shall have to collect ten kopecks from every hut. We've offended the gentleman very much. I am sorry for him. . . .""We've lived without a bridge," said Volodka, not looking at anyone, "and we don't want one.""What next; the bridge is a government business." "We don't want it.""Your opinion is not asked. What is it to you?"" 'Your opinion is not asked,' " Volodka mimicked hi m. "We don't want to drive anywhere; what do we want with a bridge? If we have to, we can cross by the boat."Someone from the yard outside knocked at the window so violently that it seemed to shake the whole hut.
"Is Volodka at home?" he heard the voice of the younger Lytchkov. "Volodka, come out, come along."Volodka jumped down off the stove and began looking for his cap. "Don't go, Volodka," said Rodion diffidently. "Don't go with them, son.
You are foolish, like a little child; they will teach you no good; don't go!" "Don't go, son," said Stepanida, and she blinked as though about toshed tears. "I bet they are calling you to the tavern." " 'To the tavern,' " Volodka mimicked.
"You'll come back drunk again, you currish Herod," said Lukerya, looking at him angrily. "Go along, go along, and may you burn up with vodka, you tailless Satan!""You hold your tongue," shouted Volodka.
"They've married me to a fool, they've ruined me, a luckless orphan, you red-headed drunkard . . ." wailed Lukerya, wiping her face with a hand covered with dough. "I wish I had never set eyes on you."Volodka gave her a blow on the ear and went off.
III
Elena Ivanovna and her little daughter visited the village on foot. They were out for a walk. It was a Sunday, and the peasant women and girls were walking up and down the street in their brightly-coloured dresses. Rodion and Stepanida, sitting side by side at their door, bowed and smiled to Elena Ivanovna and her little daughter as to acquaintances. From the windows more than a dozen children stared at them; their faces expressed amazement and curiosity, and they could be heard whispering:
"The Kutcherov lady has come! The Kutcherov lady!""Good-morning," said Elena Ivanovna, and she stopped; she paused, and then asked: "Well, how are you getting on?""We get along all right, thank God," answered Rodion, speaking rapidly. "To be sure we get along.""The life we lead!" smiled Stepanida. "You can see our poverty yourself, dear lady! The family is fourteen souls in all, and only two bread-winners. We are supposed to be blacksmiths, but when they bring us a horse to shoe we have no coal, nothing to buy it with. We are worried to death, lady," she went on, and laughed. "Oh, oh, we are worried to death."Elena Ivanovna sat down at the entrance and, putting her arm roundher little girl, pondered something, and judging from the little girl's expression, melancholy thoughts were straying through her mind, too; as she brooded she played with the sumptuous lace on the parasol she had taken out of her mother's hands.
"Poverty," said Rodion, "a great deal of anxiety -- you see no end to it. Here, God sends no rain . . . our life is not easy, there is no denying it.""You have a hard time in this life," said Elena Ivanovna, "but in the other world you will be happy."Rodion did not understand her, and simply coughed into his clenched hand by way of reply. Stepanida said:
"Dear lady, the rich men will be all right in the next world, too. The rich put up candles, pay for services; the rich give to beggars, but what can the poor man do? He has no time to make the sign of the cross. He is the beggar of beggars himself; how can he think of his soul? And many sins come from poverty; from trouble we snarl at one another like dogs, we haven't a good word to say to one another, and all sorts of things happen, dear lady -- God forbid! It seems we have no luck in this world nor the next. All the luck has fallen to the rich."She spoke gaily; she was evidently used to talking of her hard life. And Rodion smiled, too; he was pleased that his old woman was so clever, so ready of speech.
"It is only on the surface that the rich seem to be happy," said Elena Ivanovna. "Every man has his sorrow. Here my husband and I do not live poorly, we have means, but are we happy? I am young, but I have had four children; my children are always being ill. I am ill, too, and constantly being doctored.""And what is your illness?" asked Rodion.
"A woman's complaint. I get no sleep; a continual headache gives me no peace. Here I am sitting and talking, but my head is bad, I am weak all over, and I should prefer the hardest labour to such a condition. My soul, too, is troubled; I am in continual fear for my children, my husband. Every family has its own trouble of some sort; we have ours. I am not of noble birth. My grandfather was a ****** peasant, my father was a tradesman in Moscow; he was a plain, uneducated man, too, while my husband'sparents were wealthy and distinguished. They did not want him to marry me, but he disobeyed them, quarrelled with them, and they have not forgiven us to this day. That worries my husband; it troubles him and keeps him in constant agitation; he loves his mother, loves her dearly. So I am uneasy, too, my soul is in pain."Peasants, men and women, were by now standing round Rodion's hut and listening. Kozov came up, too, and stood twitching his long, narrow beard. The Lytchkovs, father and son, drew near.
