Olgaspokesedately，rhythmically，andshewalkedlikeapilgrimwoman，witharapid，anxiousstep。Everydayshereadthegospel，readitaloudlikeadeacon；agreatdealofitshedidnotunderstand，butthewordsofthegospelmovedhertotears，andwordslike“forasmuchas“and“verily“shepronouncedwithasweetflutteratherheart。ShebelievedinGod，intheHolyMother，intheSaints；shebelievedonemustnotoffendanyoneintheworld——notsimplefolks，norGermans，norgypsies，norJews——andwoeeventothosewhohavenocompassiononthebeasts。
ShebelievedthiswaswrittenintheHolyScriptures；andso，whenshepronouncedphrasesfromHolyWrit，eventhoughshedidnotunderstandthem，herfacegrewsoftened，compassionate，andradiant。
“Whatpartdoyoucomefrom？“Maryaaskedher。
“IamfromVladimir。OnlyIwastakentoMoscowlongago，whenI
waseightyearsold。“
Theyreachedtheriver。Onthefurthersideawomanwasstandingatthewater’sedge，undressing。
“It’sourFyokla，“saidMarya，recognizingher。“Shehasbeenovertherivertothemanoryard。Tothestewards。Sheisashamelesshussyandfoul-mouthed——fearfully！“
Fyokla，youngandvigorousasagirl，withherblackeyebrowsandherloosehair，jumpedoffthebankandbegansplashingthewaterwithherfeet，andwavesraninalldirectionsfromher。
“Shameless——dreadfully！“repeatedMarya。
Theriverwascrossedbyaricketylittlebridgeoflogs，andexactlybelowitintheclear，limpidwaterwasashoalofbroad-headedmullets。Thedewwasglisteningonthegreenbushesthatlookedintothewater。Therewasafeelingofwarmth；itwascomforting！Whatalovelymorning！Andhowlovelylifewouldhavebeeninthisworld，inalllikelihood，ifitwerenotforpoverty，horrible，hopelesspoverty，fromwhichonecanfindnorefuge！Onehadonlytolookroundatthevillagetoremembervividlyallthathadhappenedthedaybefore，andtheillusionofhappinesswhichseemedtosurroundthemvanishedinstantly。
Theyreachedthechurch。Maryastoodattheentrance，anddidnotdaretogofarther。Shedidnotdaretositdowneither。Thoughtheyonlybeganringingformassbetweeneightandnine，sheremainedstandingthewholetime。
Whilethegospelwasbeingreadthecrowdsuddenlypartedtomakewayforthefamilyfromthegreathouse。Twoyounggirlsinwhitefrocksandwide-brimmedhatswalkedin；withthemachubby，rosyboyinasailorsuit。TheirappearancetouchedOlga；shemadeuphermindfromthefirstglancethattheywererefined，well-educated，handsomepeople。Maryalookedatthemfromunderherbrows，sullenly，dejectedly，asthoughtheywerenothumanbeingscomingin，butmonsterswhomightcrushherifshedidnotmakewayforthem。
Andeverytimethedeaconboomedoutsomethinginhisbassvoiceshefanciedsheheard“Ma-arya！“andsheshuddered。
Thearrivalofthevisitorswasalreadyknowninthevillage，anddirectlyaftermassanumberofpeoplegatheredtogetherinthehut。TheLeonytchevsandMatvyeitchevsandtheIlyitchovscametoinquireabouttheirrelationswhowereinserviceinMoscow。AlltheladsofZhukovowhocouldreadandwritewerepackedofftoMoscowandhiredoutasbutlersorwaiterswhilefromthevillageontheothersideoftherivertheboysallbecamebakers，andthathadbeenthecustomfromthedaysofserfdomlongagowhenacertainLukaIvanitch，apeasantfromZhukovo，nowalegendaryfigure，whohadbeenawaiterinoneoftheMoscowclubs，wouldtakenonebuthisfellow-villagersintohisservice，andfoundjobsforthemintavernsandrestaurants；andfromthattimethevillageofZhukovowasalwayscalledamongtheinhabitantsofthesurroundingdistrictsSlaveytown。NikolayhadbeentakentoMoscowwhenhewaseleven，andIvanMakaritch，oneoftheMatvyeitchevs，atthattimeaheadwaiterinthe“Hermitage“garden，hadputhimintoasituation。Andnow，addressingtheMatvyeitchevs，Nikolaysaidemphatically:
“IvanMakaritchwasmybenefactor，andIamboundtoprayforhimdayandnight，asitisowingtohimIhavebecomeagoodman。“
“Mygoodsoul！“atalloldwoman，thesisterofIvanMakaritch，saidtearfully，“andnotawordhaveweheardabouthim，poordear。“
“InthewinterhewasinserviceatOmon’s，andthisseasontherewasarumourhewassomewhereoutoftown，ingardens。Hehasaged！Inolddayshewouldbringhomeasmuchastenroublesadayinthesummer-time，butnowthingsareveryquieteverywhere。Theoldmanfrets。“
ThewomenlookedatNikolay’sfeet，shodinfeltboots，andathispaleface，andsaidmournfully:
“Youarenotonetogeton，NikolayOsipitch；youarenotonetogeton！No，indeed！“
AndtheyallmademuchofSasha。Shewastenyearsold，butshewaslittleandverythin，andmighthavebeentakenfornomorethanseven。Amongtheotherlittlegirls，withtheirsunburntfacesandroughlycroppedhair，dressedinlongfadedsmocks，shewithherwhitelittleface，withherbigdarkeyes，witharedribboninherhair，lookedfunny，asthoughsheweresomelittlewildcreaturethathadbeencaughtandbroughtintothehut。
“Shecanread，too，“Olgasaidinherpraise，lookingtenderlyatherdaughter。“Readalittle，child！“shesaid，takingthegospelfromthecorner。“Youread，andthegoodChristianpeoplewilllisten。“
Thetestamentwasanoldandheavyoneinleatherbinding，withdog’s-earededges，anditexhaledasmellasthoughmonkshadcomeintothehut。Sasharaisedhereyebrowsandbeganinaloudrhythmicchant:
“’AndtheangeloftheLordappeareduntoJoseph，sayinguntohim:Riseup，andtaketheBabeandHismother。’“
“TheBabeandHismother，“Olgarepeated，andflushedalloverwithemotion。
“’AndfleeintoEgypt，andtarrythereuntilsuchtimeas’“
Attheword“tarry“Olgacouldnotrefrainfromtears。Lookingather，Maryabegantowhimper，andafterherIvanMakaritch’ssister。Theoldfatherclearedhisthroat，andbustledabouttofindsomethingtogivehisgrand-daughter，but，findingnothing，gaveitupwithawaveofhishand。Andwhenthereadingwasovertheneighboursdispersedtotheirhomes，feelingtouchedandverymuchpleasedwithOlgaandSasha。
Asitwasaholiday，thefamilyspentthewholedayathome。Theoldwoman，whomherhusband，herdaughters-in-law，hergrandchildrenallalikecalledGranny，triedtodoeverythingherself；sheheatedthestoveandsetthesamovarwithherownhands，evenwaitedatthemiddaymeal，andthencomplainedthatshewaswornoutwithwork。Andallthetimeshewasuneasyforfearsomeoneshouldeatapiecetoomuch，orthatherhusbandanddaughters-in-lawwouldsitidle。Atonetimeshewouldhearthetavern-keeper’sgeesegoingatthebackofthehutstoherkitchen-garden，andshewouldrunoutofthehutwithalongstickandspendhalfanhourscreamingshrillybyhercabbages，whichwereasgauntandscraggyasherself；atanothertimeshefanciedthatacrowhaddesignsonherchickens，andsherushedtoattackitwithloudwordsofabuse。Shewascrossandgrumblingfrommorningtillnight。Andoftensheraisedsuchanoutcrythatpassers-bystoppedinthestreet。
Shewasnotaffectionatetowardstheoldman，revilinghimasalazy-bonesandaplague。Hewasnotaresponsible，reliablepeasant，andperhapsifshehadnotbeencontinuallynaggingathimhewouldnothaveworkedatall，butwouldhavesimplysatonthestoveandtalked。Hetalkedtohissonatgreatlengthaboutcertainenemiesofhis，complainedoftheinsultshesaidhehadtoputupwitheverydayfromtheneighbours，anditwastedioustolistentohim。
“Yes，“hewouldsay，standingwithhisarmsakimbo，“yes。A
weekaftertheExaltationoftheCrossIsoldmyhaywillinglyatthirtykopecksapood。Wellandgood。SoyouseeI
wastakingthehayinthemorningwithagoodwill；Iwasinterferingwithnoone。InanunluckyhourIseethevillageelder，AntipSyedelnikov，comingoutofthetavern。’Whereareyoutakingit，youruffian？’sayshe，andtakesmebytheear。“
Kiryakhadafearfulheadacheafterhisdrinkingbout，andwasashamedtofacehisbrother。
“Whatvodkadoes！Ah，myGod！“hemuttered，shakinghisachinghead。“ForChrist’ssake，forgiveme，brotherandsister；I’mnothappymyself。“
Asitwasaholiday，theyboughtaherringatthetavernandmadeasoupoftheherring’shead。Atmiddaytheyallsatdowntodrinktea，andwentondrinkingitforalongtime，tilltheywereallperspiring；theylookedpositivelyswollenfromthetea-drinking，andafteritbegansippingthebrothfromtheherring’shead，allhelpingthemselvesoutofonebowl。ButtheherringitselfGrannyhadhidden。
Intheeveningapotterbeganfiringpotsontheravine。Inthemeadowbelowthegirlsgotupachoraldanceandsangsongs。Theyplayedtheconcertina。Andontheothersideoftheriverakilnforbakingpotswaslighted，too，andthegirlssangsongs，andinthedistancethesingingsoundedsoftandmusical。Thepeasantswerenoisyinandaboutthetavern。Theyweresingingwithdrunkenvoices，eachonhisownaccount，andswearingatoneanother，sothatOlgacouldonlyshudderandsay:
“Oh，holySaints！“
Shewasamazedthattheabusewasincessant，andthosewhowereloudestandmostpersistentinthisfoullanguageweretheoldmenwhoweresoneartheirend。Andthegirlsandchildrenheardtheswearing，andwerenotintheleastdisturbedbyit，anditwasevidentthattheywereusedtoitfromtheircradles。
Itwaspastmidnight，thekilnsonbothsidesoftheriverwereputout，butinthemeadowbelowandinthetavernthemerrymakingstillwenton。TheoldfatherandKiryak，bothdrunk，walkingarm-in-armandjostlingagainsteachother’sshoulders，wenttothebarnwhereOlgaandMaryawerelying。
“Letheralone，“theoldmanpersuadedhim；“letheralone。
Sheisaharmlesswoman。It’sasin。“
“Ma-arya！“shoutedKiryak。
“Letherbe。It’sasin。Sheisnotabadwoman。“
Bothstoppedbythebarnandwenton。
“Ilo-ovetheflowersofthefi-ield，“theoldmanbegansingingsuddenlyinahigh，piercingtenor。“Ilo-ovetogathertheminthemeadows！“
Thenhespat，andwithafilthyoathwentintothehut。