he 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 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 more of the good. And great is our
mother Russia!" and again he gazed to each side and looked round.

"Grandfather," Lipa asked, "when anyone dies, how many days does his
soul walk the earth?"

"Who can tell! Ask Vavila here, he has been to school. Now they teach
them everything. Vavila!" the old man called to him.

"Yes!"

"Vavila, when anyone dies how long does his soul walk the earth?"

Vavila stopped the horse and only then answered:

"Nine days. My uncle Kirilla died and his soul lived in our hut thirteen
days after."

"How do you know?"

"For thirteen days there was a knocking in the stove."

"Well, that's all right. Go on," said the old man, and it could be seen
that he did not believe a word of all that.

Near Kuzmenki the cart turned into the high road while Lipa went
straight on. It was by now getting light. As she went down into the
ravine the Ukleevo huts and the church were hidden in fog. It was cold,
and it seemed to her that the same cuckoo was calling still.

When Lipa reached home the cattle had not yet been driven out; everyone
was asleep. She sat down on the steps and waited. The old man was the
first to come out; he understood all that had happened from the first
glance at her, and for a long time he could not articulate a word, but
only moved his lips without a sound.

"Ech, Lipa," he said, "you did not take care of my grandchild...."

Varvara was awakened. She clasped her hands and broke into sobs, and
immediately began laying out the baby.

"And he was a pretty child..." she said. "Oh, dear, dear.... You only
had the one child, and you did not take