asili said, 'He shall die like a dog,
having no chance to repent!'"
"Oh, the villain!" exclaimed Michael. "He would kill me if he were not
afraid. All right, Vasili; we shall have an accounting with you. And
Tishka--he called me a dog, I suppose?"
"Well," said the elder, "they all spoke of you in anything but
complimentary terms; but it is mean in me to repeat what they said."
"Mean or not you must tell me, I say!"
"Some of them declared that your back should be broken."
Simeonovitch appeared to enjoy this immensely, for he laughed outright.
"We shall see whose back will be the first to be broken," said he. "Was
that Tishka's opinion? While I did not suppose they would say anything
good about me, I did not expect such curses and threats. And Peter
Mikhayeff--was that fool cursing me too?"
"No; he did not curse you at all. He appeared to be the only silent one
among them. Mikhayeff is a very wise moujik, and he surprises me very
much. At his actions all the other peasants seemed amazed."
"What did he do?"
"He did something remarkable. He was diligently ploughing, and as I
approached him I heard some one singing very sweetly. Looking between
the ploughshares, I observed a bright object shining."
"Well, what was it? Hurry up!"
"It was a small, five-kopeck wax candle, burning brightly, and the wind
was unable to blow it out. Peter, wearing a new shirt, sang beautiful
hymns as he ploughed, and no matter how he handled the implement the
candle continued to burn. In my presence he fixed the plough, shaking
it violently, but the bright little object between the colters remained
undisturbed."
"And what did Mikhayeff say?"
"He said nothing--except when, on seeing me, he gave me the holy-day
salutation, after which he went on his way singing and ploughing as
before. I did not say anything to him, but, on approaching the other
moujiks, I found that they were laughing and making sport of their
silent companion. 'It is a great sin to plough on Easter Monday,' they
said. 'You could not get absolution from your sin if you were to pray
all your life.'"
"And did Mikhayeff make no reply?"
"He stood long enough to say: 'There should be peace on earth and
good-will to men,' after which he resumed his ploughing and singing, the
candle burning even more brightly than before."
Simeonovitch had now ceased to ridicule, and, putting aside his guitar,
his head dropped on his breast and he became lost in thought. P
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