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I got up； gave a luxurious stretch； and began greedily drinking in the
damp and fragrant air。
〃Has Agasha gone？〃 I asked。
〃There she is；〃 said Savka； pointing in the direction of the ford。
I glanced and saw Agafya。 Dishevelled； with her kerchief dropping off
her head； she was crossing the river； holding up her skirt。 Her legs were
scarcely moving。 。 。 。
〃The cat knows whose meat it has eaten；〃 muttered Savka； screwing
up his eyes as he looked at her。 〃She goes with her tail hanging down。 。 。 。
They are sly as cats； these women； and timid as hares。 。 。 。 She didn't go；
silly thing； in the evening when we told her to！ Now she will catch it； and
they'll flog me again at the peasant court 。 。 。 all on account of the
women。 。 。 。〃
Agafya stepped upon the bank and went across the fields to the village。
At first she walked fairly boldly； but soon terror and excitement got the
upper hand； she turned round fearfully； stopped and took breath。
〃Yes； you are frightened！〃 Savka laughed mournfully； looking at the
bright green streak left by Agafya in the dewy grass。 〃She doesn't want to
go！ Her husband's been standing waiting for her for a good hour。 。 。 。 Did
you see him？〃
Savka said the last words with a smile； but they sent a chill to my heart。
In the village； near the furthest hut； Yakov was standing in the road； gazing
fixedly at his returning wife。 He stood without stirring； and was as
motionless as a post。 What was he thinking as he looked at her？ What
words was he preparing to greet her with？ Agafya stood still a little while；
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looked round once more as though expecting help from us； and went on。 I
have never seen anyone； drunk or sober； move as she did。 Agafya seemed
to be shrivelled up by her husband's eyes。 At one time she moved in
zigzags； then she moved her feet up and down without going forward；
bending her knees and stretching out her hands； then she staggered back。
When she had gone another hundred paces she looked round once more
and sat down。
〃You ought at least to hide behind a bush 。 。 。〃 I said to Savka。 〃If the
husband sees you 。 。 。〃
〃He knows； anyway； who it is Agafya has come from。 。 。 。 The women
don't go to the kitchen garden at night for cabbages we all know that。〃
I glanced at Savka's face。 It was pale and puckered up with a look of
fastidious pity such as one sees in the faces of people watching tortured
animals。
〃What's fun for the cat is tears for the mouse。 。 。〃 he muttered。
Agafya suddenly jumped up； shook her head； and with a bold step
went towards her husband。 She had evidently plucked up her courage and
made up her mind。
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AT CHRISTMAS TIME
I
〃WHAT shall I write？〃 said Yegor； and he dipped his pen in the ink。
Vasilisa had not seen her daughter for four years。 Her daughter
Yefimya had gone after her wedding to Petersburg； had sent them two
letters； and since then seemed to vanish out of their lives； there had been
no sight nor sound of her。 And whether the old woman were milking her
cow at dawn； or heating her stove； or dozing at night； she was always
thinking of one and the same thing what was happening to Yefimya；
whether she were alive out yonder。 She ought to have sent a letter； but the
old father could not write； and there was no one to write。
But now Christmas had come； and Vasilisa could not bear it any longer；
and went to the tavern to Yegor； the brother of the innkeeper's wife； who
had sat in the tavern doing nothing ever since he came back from the army；
people said that he could write letters very well if he were properly paid。
Vasilisa talked to the cook at the tavern； then to the mistress of the house；
then to Yegor himself。 They agreed upon fifteen kopecks。
And now it happened on the second day of the holidays； in the
tavern kitchen Yegor was sitting at the table； holding the pen in his hand。
Vasilisa was standing before him； pondering with an expression of anxiety
and woe on her face。 Pyotr； her husband； a very thin old man with a
brownish bald patch； had come with her； he stood looking straight before
him like a blind man。 On the stove a piece of pork was being braised in a
saucepan； it was spurting and hissing； and seemed to be actually saying：
〃Flu…flu…flu。〃 It was stifling。
〃What am I to write？〃 Yegor asked again。
〃What？〃 asked Vasilisa； looking at him angrily and suspiciously。
〃Don't worry me！ You are not writing for nothing； no fear； you'll be paid
for it。 Come； write： 'To our dear son…in…law； Andrey Hrisanfitch； and to our
only beloved daughter； Yefimya Petrovna； with our love we send a low
bow and our parental blessing abiding for ever。' 〃
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〃Written； fire away。〃
〃 'And we wish them a happy Christmas； we are alive and well； and I
wish you the same； please the Lord 。 。 。 the Heavenly King。' 〃
Vasilisa pondered and exchanged glances with the old man。
〃 'And I wish you the same； please the Lord the Heavenly King；' 〃 she
repeated； beginning to cry。
She could say nothing more。 And yet before； when she lay awake
thinking at night； it had seemed to her that she could not get all she had to
say into a dozen letters。 Since the time when her daughter had gone away
with her husband much water had flowed into the sea； the old people had
lived feeling bereaved； and sighed heavily at night as though they had
buried their daughter。 And how many events had occurred in the village
since then； how many marriages and deaths！ How long the winters had
been！ How long the nights！
〃It's hot；〃 said Yegor； unbuttoning his waistcoat。 〃It must be seventy
degrees。 What more？〃 he asked。
The old people were silent。
〃What does your son…in…law do in Petersburg？〃 asked Yegor。
〃He was a soldier； my good friend；〃 the old man answered in a weak
voice。 〃 He left the service at the same time as you did。 He was a soldier；
and now； to be sure； he is at Petersburg at a hydropathic establ