faded from the air and evening shadows swept across the land.
Meantime the absent family returned to the hut. First came Nikolai's father and mother, dry, bent, and toothless, and of equal height. Later, their sons' wives, Marya and Fekla, employed on the noble's farm across the river. Marya, wife of Nikolai's brother Kiriak, had six children ; Fekla, wife of Denis, then a soldier, two; and when Nikolai, entering the hut, saw the whole family, all these big and little bodies, which moved in the loft, in cradles, in corners; when he saw the greed with which the old man and women ate black bread soaked in water, he felt that he had made a mistake in coming home, sick, penniless, and — what was worse — with his family.
“And where is brother Kiriak?” he asked, greeting his parents.
“He's watchman at the trader's,” answered the old man. “In the wood. He's a good lad, but drinks heavily.”
“He's no profit,” said the old woman in a lachrymose voice. “Our men are not much use, they bring nothing home with them, and only take things. Our Kiriak drinks; and the old man, there's no use hiding it, himself knows the way to the drink-shop. They've angered our Mother in Heaven!”
In honour of the guests the samovar was brought out. The tea smelt of fish, the sugar was damp
