red to engage him as man of all work,
and he should come back the next day ready to take the place.

Gerasim was fairly stunned by the great stroke of fortune. So
overwhelming was his joy that his legs would scarcely carry him. He
went to the coachman's room, and Yegor said to him:

"Well, my lad, see to it that you do your work right, so that I shan't
have to be ashamed of you. You know what masters are like. If you go
wrong once, they'll be at you forever after with their fault-finding,
and never give you peace."

"Don't worry about that, Yegor Danilych."

"Well--well."

Gerasim took leave, crossing the yard to go out by the gate.
Polikarpych's rooms gave on the yard, and a broad beam of light from
the window fell across Gerasim's way. He was curio as to get a glimpse
of his future home, but the panes were all frosted over, and it was
impossible to peep through. However, he could hear what the people
inside were saying.

"What will we do now?" was said in a woman's voice.

"I don't know, I don't know," a man, undoubtedly Polikarpych, replied.
"Go begging, I suppose."

"That's all we can do. There's nothing else left," said the woman.
"Oh, we poor people, what a miserable life we lead. We work and work
from early morning till late at night, day after day, and when we get
old, then it's, 'Away with you!'"

"What can we do? Our master is not one of us. It wouldn't be worth the
while to say much to him about it. He cares only for his own
advantage."

"All the masters are so mean. They don't think of any one but
themselves. It doesn't occur to them that we work for them honestly
and faithfully for years, and use up our best strength in their
service. They're afraid to keep us a year longer, even though we've
got all the strength we need to do their work. If we weren't strong
enough, we'd go of our own accord."

"The master's not so much to blame as his coachman. Yegor Danilych
wants to get a good position for his friend."

"Yes, he's a serpent. He knows how to wag his tongue. You wait, you
foul-mouthed beast, I'll get even with you. I'll go straight to the
master and tell him how the fellow deceives him, how he steals the hay
and fodder. I'll put it down in writing, and he can convince himself
how the fellow lies about us all."

"Don't, old woman. Don't sin."

"Sin? Isn't what I said all true? I know to a dot what I'm saying, and
I mean to tell it straight out to the master. He should see with his
own e