all patched; her feet
were bare and muddy, and on her head she had an old blue kerchief. Her
neck, arms, and face were sinewy like a peasant's. Her clothing and her
whole appearance indicated that she always did the hard work of a man.
She brought in a heap of logs which she threw down by the oven. Then
she went up to her brother, and with a joyful smile which made her
whole face pucker up, touched him on the shoulder and began making
rapid signs to him with her hands, her face, and whole body.

'That's right, that's right, Stepka is a trump!' answered the brother,
nodding. 'She's fetched everything and mended everything, she's a
trump! Here, take this for it!' He brought out two pieces of
gingerbread from his pocket and gave them to her.

The dumb woman's face flushed with pleasure, and she began making a
weird noise for joy. Having seized the gingerbread she began to
gesticulate still more rapidly, frequently pointing in one direction
and passing her thick finger over her eyebrows and her face. Lukashka
understood her and kept nodding, while he smiled slightly. She was
telling him to give the girls dainties, and that the girls liked him,
and that one girl, Maryanka--the best of them all--loved him. She
indicated Maryanka by rapidly pointing in the direction of Maryanka's
home and to her own eyebrows and face, and by smacking her lips and
swaying her head. 'Loves' she expressed by pressing her hands to her
breast, kissing her hand, and pretending to embrace someone. Their
mother returned to the hut, and seeing what her dumb daughter was
saying, smiled and shook her head. Her daughter showed her the
gingerbread and again made the noise which expressed joy.

'I told Ulitka the other day that I'd send a matchmaker to them,' said
the mother. 'She took my words well.'

Lukashka looked silently at his mother.

'But how about selling the wine, mother? I need a horse.'

'I'll cart it when I have time. I must get the barrels ready,' said the
mother, evidently not wishing her son to meddle in domestic matters.
'When you go out you'll find a bag in the passage. I borrowed from the
neighbours and got something for you to take back to the cordon; or
shall I put it in your saddle-bag?'

'All right,' answered Lukashka. 'And if Girey Khan should come across
the river send him to me at the cordon, for I shan't get leave again
for a long time now; I have some business with him.'

He began to get ready to start.

'I will send