“Butpeoplehavegrownbetter，“observedthebailiff。
“Inwhatwaybetter？“
“Cleverer。“
“Cleverer，maybe，that’strue，youngman；butwhat’stheuseofthat？Whatearthlygoodisclevernesstopeopleonthebrinkofruin？Onecanperishwithoutcleverness。What’sthegoodofclevernesstoahuntsmanifthereisnogame？WhatIthinkisthatGodhasgivenmenbrainsandtakenawaytheirstrength。
Peoplehavegrownweak，exceedinglyweak。Takeme，forinstance。Iamnotworthahalfpenny，Iamthehumblestpeasantinthewholevillage，andyet，youngman，Ihavestrength。Mindyou，I
aminmyseventies，andItendmyherddayinanddayout，andkeepthenightwatch，too，fortwentykopecks，andIdon’tsleep，andIdon’tfeelthecold；mysonisclevererthanIam，butputhiminmyplaceandhewouldaskforaraisenextday，orwouldbegoingtothedoctors。Thereitis。Ieatnothingbutbread，for’Giveusthisdayourdailybread，’andmyfatheratenothingbutbread，andmygrandfather；butthepeasantnowadaysmusthaveteaandvodkaandwhiteloaves，andmustsleepfromsunsettodawn，andhegoestothedoctorandpampershimselfinallsortsofways。Andwhyisit？Hehasgrownweak；hehasnotthestrengthtoendure。Ifhewantstostayawake，hiseyesclose——
thereisnodoinganything。“
“That’strue，“Melitonagreed；“thepeasantisgoodfornothingnowadays。“
“It’snogoodhidingwhatiswrong；wegetworsefromyeartoyear。Andifyoutakethegentryintoconsideration，they’vegrownfeeblerevenmorethanthepeasantshave。Thegentlemannowadayshasmasteredeverything；heknowswhatheoughtnottoknow，andwhatisthesenseofit？Itmakesyoufeelpitifultolookathim。Heisathin，punylittlefellow，likesomeHungarianorFrenchman；thereisnodignitynorairabouthim；
it’sonlyinnameheisagentleman。Thereisnoplaceforhim，poordear，andnothingforhimtodo，andthereisnomakingoutwhathewants。Eitherhesitswithahookcatchingfish，orhelollsonhisbackreading，ortrotsaboutamongthepeasantssayingallsortsofthingstothem，andthosethatarehungrygoinforbeingclerks。Sohespendshislifeinvain。Andhehasnonotionofdoingsomethingrealanduseful。Thegentryinolddayswerehalfofthemgenerals，butnowadaystheyare——apoorlot。“
“Theyarebadlyoffnowadays，“saidMeliton。
“TheyarepoorerbecauseGodhastakenawaytheirstrength。Youcan’tgoagainstGod。“
Melitonstaredatafixedpointagain。Afterthinkingalittleheheavedasighasstaid，reasonablepeopledosigh，shookhishead，andsaid:
“Andallbecauseofwhat？Wehavesinnedgreatly，wehaveforgottenGodanditseemsthatthetimehascomeforalltoend。And，afterall，theworldcan’tlastforever——it’stimetoknowwhentotakeleave。“
Theshepherdsighedand，asthoughwishingtocutshortanunpleasantconversation，hewalkedawayfromthebirch-treeandbegansilentlyreckoningoverthecows。
“Hey-hey-hey！“heshouted。“Hey-hey-hey！Botheryou，theplaguetakeyou！Thedevilhastakenyouintothethicket。Tu-lu-lu！“
Withanangryfacehewentintothebushestocollecthisherd。
Melitongotupandsaunteredslowlyalongtheedgeofthewood。
Helookedatthegroundathisfeetandpondered；hestillwantedtothinkofsomethingwhichhadnotyetbeentouchedbydeath。
Patchesoflightcreptupontheslantingstreaksofrainagain；
theydancedonthetopsofthetreesanddiedawayamongthewetleaves。Damkafoundahedgehogunderabush，andwantingtoattracthermaster’sattentiontoit，barkedandhowled。
“Didyouhaveaneclipseornot？“theshepherdcalledfromthebushes。
“Yes，wehad，“answeredMeliton。
“Ah！Folksarecomplainingallaboutthattherewasone。Itshowsthereisdisorderevenintheheavens！It’snotfornothing……Hey-hey-hey！Hey！“
Drivinghisherdtogethertotheedgeofthewood，theshepherdleanedagainstthebirch-tree，lookedupatthesky，withouthastetookhispipefromhisbosomandbeganplaying。Asbefore，heplayedmechanicallyandtooknomorethanfiveorsixnotes；
asthoughthepipehadcomeintohishandsforthefirsttime，thesoundsfloatedfromituncertainly，withnoregularity，notblendingintoatune，buttoMeliton，broodingonthedestructionoftheworld，therewasasoundinitofsomethingverydepressingandrevoltingwhichhewouldmuchrathernothaveheard。Thehighest，shrillestnotes，whichquiveredandbroke，seemedtobeweepingdisconsolately，asthoughthepipeweresickandfrightened，whilethelowestnotesforsomereasonremindedhimofthemist，thedejectedtrees，thegreysky。Suchmusicseemedinkeepingwiththeweather，theoldmanandhissayings。
Melitonwantedtocomplain。Hewentuptotheoldmanand，lookingathismournful，mockingfaceandatthepipe，muttered:
“Andlifehasgrownworse，grandfather。Itisutterlyimpossibletolive。Badcrops，want。Cattleplaguecontinually，diseasesofallsorts。Wearecrushedbypoverty。“
Thebailiff’spuffyfaceturnedcrimsonandtookadejected，womanishexpression。Hetwirledhisfingersasthoughseekingwordstoconveyhisvaguefeelingandwenton:
“Eightchildren，awifeandmymotherstillliving，andmywholesalarytenroublesamonthandtoboardmyself。MywifehasbecomeaSatanfrompoverty。Igooffdrinkingmyself。Iamasensible，steadyman；Ihaveeducation。Ioughttositathomeinpeace，butIstrayaboutalldaywithmygunlikeadogbecauseitismorethanIcanstand；myhomeishatefultome！“
Feelingthathistonguewasutteringsomethingquitedifferentfromwhathewantedtosay，thebailiffwavedhishandandsaidbitterly:
“Iftheworld’sgoingtoendIwishitwouldmakehasteaboutit。
There’snoneedtodragitoutandmakefolksmiserablefornothing。“
Theoldmantookthepipefromhislipsand，screwinguponeeye，lookedintoitslittleopening。Hisfacewassadandcoveredwiththickdropsliketears。Hesmiledandsaid:
“It’sapity，myfriend！Mygoodness，whatapity！Theearth，theforest，thesky，thebeastsofallsorts——allthishasbeencreated，youknow，adapted；theyallhavetheirintelligence。Itisallgoingtoruin。AndmostofallIamsorryforpeople。“
Therewasthesoundinthewoodofheavyraincomingnearer。
Melitonlookedinthedirectionofthesound，didupallhisbuttons，andsaid:
“Iamgoingtothevillage。Good-bye，grandfather。Whatisyourname？“
“LukathePoor。“
“Well，good-bye，Luka！Thankyouforyourgoodwords。Damka，ici！“
AfterpartingfromtheshepherdMelitonmadehiswayalongtheedgeofthewood，andthendownhilltoameadowwhichbydegreesturnedintoamarsh。Therewasasquelchofwaterunderhisfeet，andtherustymarshsedge，stillgreenandjuicy，droopeddowntotheearthasthoughafraidofbeingtrampledunderfoot。Beyondthemarsh，onthebankofthePestchanka，ofwhichtheoldmanhadspoken，stoodarowofwillows，andbeyondthewillowsabarnlookeddarkblueinthemist。Onecouldfeeltheapproachofthatmiserable，utterlyinevitableseason，whenthefieldsgrowdarkandtheearthismuddyandcold，whentheweepingwillowseemsstillmoremournfulandtearstrickledownitsstem，andonlythecranesflyawayfromthegeneralmisery，andeventhey，asthoughafraidofinsultingdispiritednaturebytheexpressionoftheirhappiness，filltheairwiththeirmournful，drearynotes。
Melitonploddedalongtotheriver，andheardthesoundsofthepipegraduallydyingawaybehindhim。Hestillwantedtocomplain。Helookeddejectedlyabouthim，andhefeltinsufferablysorryfortheskyandtheearthandthesunandthewoodsandhisDamka，andwhenthehighestdrawn-outnoteofthepipefloatedquiveringintheair，likeavoiceweeping，hefeltextremelybitterandresentfuloftheimproprietyintheconductofnature。
Thehighnotequivered，brokeoff，andthepipewassilent。
AGAFYA
DURINGmystayinthedistrictofS。IoftenusedtogotoseethewatchmanSavvaStukatch，orsimplySavka，inthekitchengardensofDubovo。Thesekitchengardensweremyfavoriteresortforso-called“mixed“fishing，whenonegoesoutwithoutknowingwhatdayorhouronemayreturn，takingwithoneeverysortoffishingtackleaswellasastoreofprovisions。Totellthetruth，itwasnotsomuchthefishingthatattractedmeasthepeacefulstroll，themealsatnosettime，thetalkwithSavka，andbeingforsolongfacetofacewiththecalmsummernights。