Anna Karenina (Literature Classics Series). Leo TolstoyЧитать онлайн книгу.
all finished except some short patches at the corners. But Levin wanted to get as much as possible done that day, and it was vexatious to see the sun already declining. He was not feeling at all tired and was only longing to work again and to accomplish as much as he could.
‘What do you think — could we manage to get Mashkin Heights mown to-day?’ he asked the old man.
‘Well, God willing, we might! The sun is not very high though. Perhaps — if the lads could have a little vodka!’
At half-time, when they sat down again and those who smoked were lighting their pipes, the old man informed the young fellows that if they mowed the Mashkin Heights there would be vodka.
‘What? Not mow that? Come along, Titus; we’ll get it clear in no time!’
‘You can eat your fill at night. Let’s begin!’ shouted different voices, and the mowers took their places, finishing their bread as they went.
‘Now then, lads! Keep going!’ said Titus, starting off ahead almost at a trot.
‘Go on, go on!’ said the old man, hurrying after him and easily catching him up. ‘Take care, I’ll mow you down!’
And young and old vied with each other at mowing. But in spite of their haste they did not spoil the grass, and the swaths fell just as evenly and exactly as before. The small patch that was left in the last corner was mown in five minutes; and whilst the last mowers were finishing their swaths, those in front, carrying their coats over their shoulders, were already crossing the road toward Mashkin Heights.
The sun was already setting toward the trees when, with their tin boxes rattling, they entered the wooded ravine of the Heights.
The grass that in the middle of the ravine reached to their waists was delicate, soft, and broad-bladed, speckled here and there with cow-wheat.
After a short consultation as to whether they should mow the ravine across or lengthwise, Prokhor — a gigantic dark man and a famous mower — took the lead. He went in front, mowed a swath, turned round and restarted; following him all the others took their places, going downhill along the creek and back up to the very skirts of the wood. The sun had set behind the wood and now shone only on the mowers at the top of the hill, while in the valley, where the mists were rising, they were in cool, dewy shade. The work proceeded briskly.
The scented grass, cut down with a sound that showed how juicy it was, fell in high ridges. On the short swaths the mowers crowded together, their tin boxes clattering, their scythes ringing whenever they touched, the whetstones whistling upon the blades, and their merry voices resounding as they urged each other on.
Levin was again mowing between the old man and the lad. The old man, who had put on his sheepskin jacket, was still as jolly, witty, and easy in his movements as before. In the wood their scythes continually cut down wood mushrooms, grown plump amid the juicy grass. The old man stooped each time he came upon one, picked it up, and put it inside his jacket, saying, ‘Another treat for my old woman.’
It was easy to cut the wet soft grass, but on the other hand it was very difficult to go up and down the steep slopes of the ravine. This, however, did not trouble the old man. Swinging his scythe just as usual, taking short steps with feet shod in large bark-plaited shoes, he slowly climbed the slopes; and though his whole body and his loosely-hanging trousers shook, he did not miss a single mushroom or a curious grass, and continued joking with the other peasants and with Levin. Levin followed, and often thought he would certainly fall when climbing a mound with his scythe in his hand — a mound so steep that it would have been hard to climb even unencumbered. Still, he managed to climb it and to do all that had to be done; and he felt as if some external force were urging him on.
Chapter 6
MASHKIN HEIGHTS were mown, and the peasants, having completed their last swaths, put on their coats and went home in high spirits. Levin, having regretfully taken leave of them, mounted and rode home. He looked back from the top of the hill. He could not see the men, for the mist rising from the hollow hid them; but he heard their merry rough voices, laughter, and the clanking of the scythes.
Koznyshev had long had his dinner, and was in his room drinking iced water with lemon, while looking over the papers and magazines just arrived by post, when Levin rushed in, his tangled hair clinging to his moist brow, his shirt saturated back and front and dark with perspiration, and cried out joyfully:
‘We have finished the whole of the meadow! How delightful it is! And how have you got on?’ Levin had quite forgotten the unpleasant conversation of the previous day.
‘Dear me, what a sight you are!’ said Koznyshev, turning to his brother with a momentary look of vexation. ‘The door — the door! Shut it!’ he exclaimed. ‘You’ve certainly let in a whole dozen!’
Koznyshev could not bear flies, and opened the windows in his room only at night, keeping the door carefully closed.
‘No, not one, I swear. And if I have, I’ll catch it… . You would not believe what enjoyment it was! And how have you spent the day?’
‘Quite well. But have you really been mowing all day? You must be as hungry as a wolf. Kuzma has everything ready for you.’
‘No, I don’t want to eat; I have had something there. But I’ll go and wash.’
‘Yes, yes, go; and I will come presently.’ Koznyshev shook his head as he looked at his brother. ‘Go, go, and be quick!’ he added with a smile, as, gathering together his books, he prepared to go too. He also felt suddenly quite cheerful and did not wish to part from his brother. ‘And where were you when it rained?’
‘What rain was that? Only a few drops… . Well, then, I’ll come back directly. So you have spent the day all right? That’s good.’ And Levin went off to dress.
Five minutes later the brothers met again in the dining-room. Though Levin had imagined that he was not hungry, and sat down to table only not to offend Kuzma, yet when he began eating he thought everything delicious. Koznyshev smiled as he looked at him.
‘Oh, yes, there’s a letter for you,’ said he. ‘Kuzma, please bring it. It’s downstairs. And mind you shut the door.’
The letter was from Oblonsky. Levin read it aloud. Oblonsky wrote from Petersburg: ‘I have had a letter from Dolly. She is in Ergushovo, and everything is out of gear there. Please go and see her and help her with your advice — you know all about everything. She is quite alone, poor thing; my motherin-law is still abroad.’
‘That’s splendid! I will certainly go and see her,’ said Levin. ‘Or shall we both go? She is such a good woman; don’t you think so?’
‘Is it far from here?’
‘A little over twenty-five miles or maybe even thirty, but the road is excellent. We’ll have a fine drive.’
‘I shall be very glad,’ replied Koznyshev, still smiling. The sight of his younger brother had a distinctly cheering influence on him.
‘I must say you have an appetite!’ he said, glancing at the sunburnt ruddy face bent over the plate.
‘Fine! You would hardly believe what a remedy it is for every kind of folly. I am thinking of enriching Medicine with a new word: Arbeitskur [Work-cure]!’
‘You would hardly require it, I should say.’
‘No, but those who suffer from their nerves do.’
‘Yes, it ought to be tested. You know, I thought of coming to the meadow to have a look at you, but it was so unbearably hot that I got only as far as the forest! I sat there a little, and then went through the forest to the village, where I met your old wet-nurse and sounded her as to what the peasants think of you. From her I understand that they do not approve of your doing it. She said: “It’s