re accomplished before her eyes, with her help. The result in her
was a confused feeling, compounded of distrust of herself, complacency,
perplexity, and sadness.

The scenery about her seemed to be slowly moving. Gray clouds floated
in the sky, chasing each other heavily; wet trees flashed along the
sides of the road, swinging their bare tops; little hills appeared and
swam asunder. The whole turbid day seemed to be hastening to meet the
sun--to be seeking it.

The drawling voice of the coachman, the sound of the bells, the humid
rustle and whistle of the wind, blended in a trembling, tortuous
stream, which flowed on with a monotonous force, and roused the wind.

"The rich man feels crowded, even in Paradise. That's the way it is.
Once he begins to oppress, the government authorities are his friends,"
quoth the coachman, swaying on his seat.

While unhitching the horses at the station he said to the mother in a
hopeless voice:

"If you gave me only enough for a drink----"

She gave him a coin, and tossing it in the palm of his hand, he
informed her in the same hopeless tone:

"I'll take a drink for three coppers, and buy myself bread for two."

In the afternoon the mother, shaken up by the ride and chilled, reached
the large village of Nikolsk. She went to a tavern and asked for tea.
After placing her heavy valise under the bench, she sat at a window and
looked out into an open square, covered with yellow, trampled grass,
and into the town hall, a long, old building with an overhanging roof.
Swine were straggling about in the square, and on the steps of the town
hail sat a bald, thin-bearded peasant smoking a pipe. The clouds swam
overhead in dark masses, and piled up, one absorbing the other. It was
dark, gloomy, and tedious. Life seemed to be in hiding.

Suddenly the village sergeant galloped up to the square, stopped his
sorrel at the steps of the town hall, and waving his whip in the air,
shouted to the peasant. The shouts rattled against the window panes,
but the words were indistinguishable. The peasant rose and stretched
his hand, pointing to something. The sergeant jumped to the ground,
reeled, threw the reins to the peasant, and seizing the rails with his
hands, lifted himself heavily up the steps, and disappeared behind the
doors of the town hall.

Quiet reigned again. Only the horse struck the soft earth with the
iron of his shoes.

A girl came into the room. A short yellow braid lay