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want？〃
A boy in a red shirt； sitting at the water's edge； was washing his
father's boots。 And not another soul was in sight either in the village or on
the hill。
〃It's not drinking；〃 said Lipa； looking at the horse。
Then the woman with the horse and the boy with the boots walked
away； and there was no one left at all。 The sun went to bed wrapped in
cloth of gold and purple； and long clouds； red and lilac； stretched across
the sky； guarded its slumbers。 Somewhere far away a bittern cried； a
hollow； melancholy sound like a cow shut up in a barn。 The cry of that
mysterious bird was heard every spring； but no one knew what it was like
or where it lived。 At the top of the hill by the hospital； in the bushes close
to the pond； and in the fields the nightingales were trilling。 The cuckoo
kept reckoning someone's years and losing count and beginning again。 In
the pond the frogs called angrily to one another； straining themselves to
bursting； and one could even make out the words： 〃That's what you are！
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That's what you are！ 〃 What a noise there was！ It seemed as though all
these creatures were singing and shouting so that no one might sleep on
that spring night； so that all； even the angry frogs； might appreciate and
enjoy every minute： life is given only once。
A silver half…moon was shining in the sky； there were many stars。 Lipa
had no idea how long she sat by the pond； but when she got up and walked
on everybody was asleep in the little village； and there was not a single
light。 It was probably about nine miles' walk home； but she had not the
strength； she had not the power to think how to go： the moon gleamed now
in front； now on the right； and the same cuckoo kept calling in a voice
grown husky； with a chuckle as though gibing at her： 〃Oy； look out； you'll
lose your way！〃 Lipa walked rapidly； she lost the kerchief from her
head 。 。 。 she looked at the sky and wondered where her baby's soul was
now： was it following her； or floating aloft yonder among the stars and
thinking nothing now of his mother？ Oh； how lonely it was in the open
country at night； in the midst of that singing when one cannot sing oneself；
in the midst of the incessant cries of joy when one cannot oneself be joyful；
when the moon； which cares not whether it is spring or winter； whether
men are alive or dead； looks down as lonely； too。 。 。 。 When there is grief in
the heart it is hard to be without people。 If only her mother； Praskovya；
had been with her； or Crutch； or the cook； or some peasant！
〃Boo…oo！〃 cried the bittern。 〃Boo…oo！〃
And suddenly she heard clearly the sound of human speech： 〃Put the
horses in； Vavila！〃
By the wayside a camp fire was burning ahead of her： the flames had
died down； there were only red embers。 She could hear the horses
munching。 In the darkness she could see the outlines of two carts； one with
a barrel； the other； a lower one with sacks in it； and the figures of two men；
one was leading a horse to put it into the shafts； the other was standing
motionless by the fire with his hands behind his back。 A dog growled by
the carts。 The one who was leading the horse stopped and said：
〃It seems as though someone were coming along the road。〃
〃Sharik； be quiet！ 〃 the other called to the dog。
And from the voice one could tell that the second was an old man。
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Lipa stopped and said：
〃God help you。〃
The old man went up to her and answered not immediately：
〃Good…evening！〃
〃Your dog does not bite； grandfather？〃
〃No； come along； he won't touch you。〃
〃I have been at the hospital；〃 said Lipa after a pause。 〃My little son
died there。 Here I am carrying him home。〃
It must have been unpleasant for the old man to hear this； for he
moved away and said hurriedly：
〃Never mind； my dear。 It's God's will。 You are very slow； lad；〃 he
added； addressing his companion； 〃look alive！
〃Your yoke's nowhere；〃 said the young man； 〃it is not to be seen。〃
〃You are a regular Vavila。〃
The old man picked up an ember； blew on it only his eyes and nose
were lighted up then； when they had found the yoke； he went with the
light to Lipa and looked at her； and his look expressed compassion and
tenderness。
〃You are a mother；〃 he said； 〃every mother grieves for her child。〃
And he sighed and shook his head as he said it。 Vavila threw
something on the fire； stamped on it and at once it was very dark； the
vision vanished； and as before there were only the fields； the sky with the
stars； and the noise of the birds hindering each other from sleep。 And the
landrail called； it seemed； in the very place where the fire had been。
But a minute passed； and again she could see the two carts and the old
man and lanky Vavila。 The carts creaked as they went out on the road。
〃Are you holy men？〃 Lipa asked the old man。
〃No。 We are from Firsanovo。〃
〃You looked at me just now and my heart was softened。 And the young
man is so gentle。 I thought you must be holy men。〃
〃Are you going far？〃
〃To Ukleevo。〃
〃Get in； we will give you a lift as far as Kuzmenki； then you go
straight on and we turn off to the left。〃
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Vavila got into the cart with the barrel and the old man and Lipa got
into the other。 They moved at a walking pace； Vavila in front。
〃My baby was in torment all day；〃 said Lipa。 〃He looked at me with
his little eyes and said nothing； he wanted to speak and could not。 Holy
Father； Queen of Heaven！ In my grief I kept falling down on the floor。 I
stood up and fell down by the bedside。 And tell me； grandfather； why a
little thing should be tormented before his death？ When a grown…up
person； a man or woman； are in torment their sins are forgiven； but why a
little thing； when he has no sins？ Why？〃
〃Who can tell？〃 answered the old man。
They drove on for half an hour in silence。
〃We can't know everything； how and wherefore；〃 said the old man。 〃It
is ordained for the bird to have not four wings but two because it is able to
fly with two； and so it is ordained for man not to know everything but only
a half or a quarter。 As much as he needs to know so as to live； so much he
knows。〃
〃It is better for me to go on foot； grandfather。 Now my heart is all of a
tremble。〃
〃Never mind； sit still。〃
The old man yawned and made the sign of the cross over his mouth。
〃Never mind；〃 he repeated。 〃Yours is not the worst of sorrows。 Life is
long； there will be good and bad to come； there will be everything。 Great
is mother Russia；〃 he said； and looked round on each side of him。 〃I have
been all over Russia； and I have seen everything in her； and you may
believe my words； my dear。 There will be good and there will be bad。 I
went as a delegate from my village to Siberia； and I have been to the Amur
River and the Altai Mountains and I settled in Siberia； I worked the land
there； then I was homesick for mother Russia and I came back to my
native village。 We came back to Russia on foot； and I remember we went
on a steamer； and I was thin as thin； all in rags； barefoot； freezing with
cold； and gnawing a crust； and a gentleman who was on the steamer the
kingdom of heaven be his if he is dead looked at me pitifully； and the
tears came into his eyes。 'Ah；' he said； 'your bread is black； your days are
black。 。 。 。' And when I got home； as the saying is； there was neither stick
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nor stall； I had a wife； but I left her behind in Siberia； she was buried there。
So I am living as a day labourer。 And yet I tell you： since then I have had
good as well as bad。 Here I do not want to die； my dear； I would be glad to
live another twenty years； so there has been mor