"Who can tell? We see they rule the men and women; yet every man has his planet and his angel. You must know, the girls who go to the proposeress leave with her a list of what they have--so many samovars, so much linen and household stuff. It is not often they have silver spoons. These lists the patriarchs come to her house and read. A sly fellow, like Old Dan, will steal to her door at dusk, when no one is about, and putting down his flask of whisky on the table, ask the old crone to drink. 'Come, motherkin,' he will giggle, 'bring out your list, and let us talk it over.' 'What are you seeking, Father Daniel?' leers the crone. 'A wife for Vanka, motherkin, a wife! Here, take a drink; the dram will do you good; and now bring out your book. A fine stout lass, with plenty of sticks and stones for me!' 'Ha!' pouts the witch, her finger on the glass, 'you want to see my book! Well, fatherkin, I have two nice lasses on my hands--good girls, and well to do; either one or other just the bride for Vanka. Here, now, is Lousha; pretty thing, but no household stuff; blue eyes, but not yet twenty; teeth like pearls, but shaky on her feet. Not do for you and your son? Why not? Well, as you please; I show my wares, you take them or you leave them. Lousha is a dainty thing--you need not blow the shingles off! Come, come, there's Dounia; well-built, buxom lassie; never raised a scandal in her life; had but one lover, a neighbor's boy. What sticks and stones? Dounia is a prize in herself--she eats very little, and she works like a horse. She has four samovars (Russian tea-urns). Not do for you! Well, now you _are_ in luck tonight, little father. Here's Nadia!'--on which comes out the story of her samovars and her silver spoons." "And so the match is made?" "A fee is paid to the parish priest, a day for the rite is fixed, and all is over--except the feast, the drinking, and the headache." "Tell me about Nadia?" "You think Nadia such a pretty name. For my part, I prefer Marfousha. My wife was Marfa; called Marfousha when the woman is a pet." "Is Nadia young and fair?" "Young? Twenty-nine. Fair? Brown as a turf." "Twenty-nine, and Vanka seventeen!" "But she is big and bony; strong as a mule, and she can go all day on very little food." "All that would be well enough, if what you wanted was a slave to thrust a spade and drive a cart." "That is what the patriarch wants; a servant for himself, a partner for his boy." "How came Vanka to accept her?" "Daniel shows him her silver spoons, her shining urns, and her chest of household stuff. The lad stares wistfully at these fine things; Lousha is absent, and the old man nods. The woman kisses him, and all is done." "Poor Lousha! where is she to-day?"