We have such mean peasants here!
Oh, my! oh, my!"
The mother, by giving the girl's disconnected, rapid talk her fixed
attention, tried to stifle her uneasiness, to dissipate her dismal
forebodings. As for the girl, she must have rejoiced in an auditor.
Her words fairly choked her and she babbled on in lowered voice with
greater and greater animation:
"Papa says it all comes from the poor crop. This is the second year
we've had a bad harvest. The people are exhausted. That's the
reason we have such peasants springing up now. What a shame! You
ought to hear them shout and fight at the village assemblies. The
other day when Vosynkov was sold out for arrears he dealt the
starosta (bailiff) a cracking blow on the face. 'There are my
arrears for you!' he says."
Heavy steps were heard at the door. The mother rose to her feet
with difficulty. The blue-eyed peasant came in, and taking off
his hat asked:
"Where is the baggage?"
He lifted the valise lightly, shook it, and said:
"Why, it's empty! Marya, show the guest the way to my house," and
he walked off without looking around.
"Are you going to stay here overnight?" asked the girl.
"Yes.
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