Anna Karenina (Dole)/Part Three/Chapter 11
CHAPTER XI
Toward the end of July, Levin received a visit from the starosta of his sister's estate, situated about twenty versts from Pokrovskoye. He brought the report about the progress of affairs, and about the haymaking.
The chief income from his sister's estate came from the meadows inundated in the spring. In former years the muzhiks rented these hayfields at the rate of twenty rubles a desyatin.[1] But when Levin undertook the management of this estate, and examined the haycrops, he came to the conclusion that the rent was too low, and he raised it to the rate of twenty-five rubles a desyatin. The muzhiks refused to pay this, and, as Levin suspected, drove away other lessees. Then Levin himself went there, and arranged to have the meadows mowed partly by day laborers, partly on shares. His muzhiks were greatly discontented with this new plan, and did their best to thwart it; but it was attended with success, and even the very first year the yield from the meadows was nearly doubled. The opposition of the peasantry continued through the second and third summers, and the haymaking was conducted on the same conditions.
But this year they had mowed the meadows on thirds, and now the starosta had come to announce that the work was done, and that he, fearing it was going to rain, had summoned the bookkeeper and made the division in his presence, and turned over the eighteen hayricks which were the proprietor's share.
By the unsatisfactory answer to his question, how much hay had been secured from the largest meadow, by the starosta's haste in making the division without orders, by the man's whole manner, Levin was induced to think there was something crooked in the division of the hay, and he concluded that it would be wise to go and look into it.
Levin reached the estate just at dinner-time; and, leaving his horse at the house of his old friend, the husband of his brother's former nurse, he went to find the old man at the apiary, hoping to obtain from him some light on the question of the hay-crop.
The loquacious, beautiful-looking old man, whose name was Parmenuitch, was delighted to see Levin, showed him all about his husbandry, and told him all the particulars about his bees, and how they swarmed this year; but when Levin asked him about the hay, he gave vague and unsatisfactory answers. This still more confirmed Levin in his suspicions.
He went to the meadows, and, on examination of the hayricks, found that they could not contain fifty loads each, as the muzhiks said. So in order to give the peasants a lesson he had one of the carts which they had used as a measure to be brought, and ordered all the hay from one of the ricks to be carried into the shed.
The hayrick was found to contain only thirty-two loads. Notwithstanding the starosta's protestations that the hay was measured right, and that it must have got pressed down in the cart; notwithstanding the fact that he called God to witness that it was all done in the most godly manner,—Levin insisted on it that, as the division had been made without his orders, he would not accept the hayricks as equivalent to fifty loads each.
After long parleys, it was decided that the muzhiks should take eleven of these hayricks for their share, but that the master's should be measured over again. The colloquy and the division of the hayricks lasted until the mid-afternoon luncheon hour. When the last of the hay had been divided. Levin, confiding the care of the work to the bookkeeper, sat down on one of the hayricks which was marked by a laburnum stake, and enjoyed the spectacle of the meadows alive with the busy peasantry.
Before him, at the bend of the river beyond the marsh, he saw the peasant women in a variegated line, and heard their ringing voices as they gossiped together, while raking into long brown ramparts the hay scattered over the bright green aftermath. Behind the women came the men with pitchforks turning the windrows into wide, high-swelling hayricks.
Toward the left across the meadow, already cleared of the hay, came the creaking telyegas, or peasant carts, and one by one, as the hayricks were lifted on the point of monstrous forks, disappeared, and their places were taken by the horse-wagons filled to overflowing with the fragrant hay which almost hid the rumps of the horses.
"Splendid hay-weather! It'll soon be all in," said Parmenuitch, as he sat down near Levin. "Tea, not hay! It scatters like seed for the ducks when they pitch it up." Then, pointing to a hayrick which the men were demolishing, the old man went on: "Since dinner, pitched up a good half of it.—Is that the last?" he shouted to a young fellow who, standing on the pole of a cart, and shaking the ends of his hempen reins, was driving by.
"The last, batyushka," shouted back the young fellow, pulling in his horse. Then he looked down with a smile on a happy-looking, rosy-faced woman who was sitting on the hay in the telyega, and whipped up his steed again.
"Who is that? your son?" asked Levin.
"My youngest," said the elder, with an expression of pride.
"What a fine fellow!"
"Not bad."
"Married yet?"
"Yes, three years come next Filippovok." [2]
"So? And are there children?"
"How? children? For a whole year I have n't heard anything about it! and it's a shame," said the old man, "Well, this is hay! Just tea!" he repeated, wishing to change the subject.
Levin looked with interest at Vanka Parmenof and his wife. They were loading on a hayrick near by. Ivan Parmenof was standing on the wagon, arranging, storing, and pressing down the fragrant hay which the handsome goodwife handed up to him in great loads, first in armfuls, then with the fork. The young woman worked gayly, industriously, and skilfully. First she arranged it with her fork; then, with elastic and agile motions, she exerted all her strength upon it; and, stooping over, she lifted up the great armful, and standing straight, with full bosom under the white chemise gathered with a red girdle, she piled it high upon the load.
Ivan, working as rapidly as he could, so as to relieve her of every moment of extra work, stretched out his arms wide, and caught up the load which she extended, and trampled it down into the wagon. Then, raking up what was left, the woman shook off the hay that had got into her neck, and, tying a red handkerchief around her broad white brow, she crept under the cart to fasten down the load. Vanka showed her how the ropes should be tied, and at some remark that she made burst into a roar of laughter. In the expression on the faces of both of them could be seen strong young love recently awakened.