ivilege but a decided hardship. Often the land is so poor
that it cannot be rented at any price, and in the old days it was quite
often the case that even though it could be rented, the rent would not
be sufficient to pay the taxes on same. Therefore, each family is quite
well satisfied with his share of the land and is not looking for more
trouble and labor if they can avoid it, and at the assembly meetings,
when the land is distributed each year, it is amusing to hear the
thousand-and-one excuses for not taking more land, as the following
brief description will illustrate.

It is assembly day, we will imagine, and all the villagers are assembled
to do their best from having more land and its consequent
responsibilities thrust upon them. Nicholas is being asked how many
shares of the communal land he will take, and after due deliberation and
much scratching of the head to stir up the cerebral processes (at least
we will assume that is the function of this last movement) he slowly
replies that inasmuch as he has two sons he will take three shares for
his family to farm, or perhaps a little less as his health is none too
good, though as a matter of fact he may be one of the most ruddy-faced
and healthiest individuals present.

This last remark is the signal for an outburst of laughter and ridicule
by the others present and the arguments pro and con wax furious. Of a
sudden, a voice in the crowd cries out: "He is a rich moujik, and he
should have five shares of the land as his burden at the least."

Nicholas, seeing that the wave is about to overwhelm him, then resorts
to entreaty and makes every possible explanation now why it will be
utterly impossible for him to take five shares, his point now being to
cut down this allotment if within his power. After considerable more
discussion the leader of the crowd then puts the question to the
assembly and inquires if it be their will that Nicholas take four
shares. There is an immediate storm of assent from all quarters and this
settles the question beyond further argument.

This native shrewdness and spirit of barter is quite typical of the
Russian peasant in all matters--large or small--and he greets the
outcome of every such combat with stoical indifference, in typical
fatalist fashion.

The writer recalls one experience in the village of Shegovari on the
occasion of our first occupation of this place. It was before the rivers
had frozen over and headquarters at Shenkur