p toward the skies; the roaring of the mill-wheel sounded ever
louder, and it seemed as though it were the Porter blowing upon his
bassoon, so that I waked up with my heart throbbing violently.

In fact, a breeze had arisen, which was gently stirring the leaves of
the apple-tree above me; but the noise and roaring came neither from
the mill nor from the Porter's bassoon, but from the same peasant who
had before refused to show me the way to Italy. He had taken off
his Sunday coat and put on a white smock-frock. "Oho!" he said, as I
rubbed my sleepy eyes, "do you want to pick your oranges here, that
you trample down all my grass instead of going to church, you lazy
lout, you?" I was vexed that the boor should have waked me, and I
started up and cried, "Hold your tongue! I have been a better gardener
than you will ever be, and a Receiver, and if you had been driving to
town, you would have had to take off your dirty cap to me, sitting at
my door in my yellow-dotted, red dressing-gown--" But the fellow was
nothing daunted, and, putting his arms akimbo, merely asked, "What do
you want here? eh! eh!" I saw that he was a short, stubbed, bow-legged
fellow, with protruding goggle-eyes, and a red, rather crooked nose.
And when he went on saying nothing but "Eh! eh!" and kept advancing
toward me step by step, I was suddenly seized with so curious a
sensation of disgust that I hastily jumped to my feet, leaped over the
fence, and, without looking round, ran across country until my fiddle
in my pocket twanged again.

When at last I stopped to take breath, the orchard and the whole
valley were out of sight and I was in a beautiful forest. But I took
little note of it, for I was downright provoked at the peasant's
impertinence, and I fumed for a long time, to myself. I walked on
quickly, going farther and farther from the high-road and in among the
mountains. The plank-roadway which I had been following ceased, and
before me was only a narrow, unfrequented foot-path. Not a soul was
to be seen anywhere, and no sound was to be heard. But it was very
pleasant walking; the trees rustled and the birds sang sweetly. I
resigned myself to the guidance of heaven, and, taking out my violin,
played all my favorite airs. Very joyous they sounded in the lonely
forest.

I grew tired of playing after a while, for I stumbled every minute
over the tiresome roots of the trees, and I began to grow very hungry,
while the wood seemed endless. Thus I w