"Certainly. But if one is to dig up the roots of one's deeds and motives, mine might be put thus: The caps were manufactured from remnants of wool which were of no use to me and only encumbered my trunk. I refused to go and deliver them myself. They were put with a lot of other caps made from scraps on equally vicious principles. And, moreover, I neither plowed the land, sowed the grass, fed the sheep, sheared him, cleansed and spun the wool, and so on; neither did I manufacture the needle for the work." The count retreated to his former argument,--that one's personal labor is the only righteous thing which can be given to one's fellow-man; and that the labor must be given unquestioningly when asked for. "But it cannot always be right to work unquestioningly. There are always plenty of people who are glad to get their work done for them. That is human nature." "We have nothing to do with that," he answered. "If a man asks me to build his house or plow his field, I am bound to do it, just as I am bound to give the beggar whatever he asks for, if I have it. It is no business of mine _why_ he asks me to do it." "But suppose the man is lazy, or wants to get his work done while he is idling, enjoying himself, or earning money elsewhere for _vodka_ or what not? I do not object to helping the weak, or those who do not attempt to shirk. One must use discrimination." But Count Tolstoy persisted that the reason for the request was no business of the man anxious to do his duty by aiding his fellow-men, although his sensible wife came to my assistance by saying that she always looked into the matter before giving help, on the grounds which I had stated. So I attacked from another quarter. "Ought not every person to do as much as possible for himself, and not call upon others unless compelled to do so?" "Certainly." "Very good. I am strong, well, perfectly capable of waiting on myself. But I detest putting on my heavy Russian galoshes, and my big cloak; and I never do either when I can possibly avoid it. I have no right to ask you to put on my galoshes, supposing that there were no lackey at hand. But suppose I were to ask it?" "I would do it with pleasure," replied the count, his earnest face relaxing into a smile. "I will mend your boots, also, if you wish." I thanked him, with regret that my boots were whole, and pursued my point. "But you _ought_ to _refuse_. It would be your duty to teach me my duty of waiting on myself. You would have no right to encourage me in my evil ways."