“Ah, all right!” responded the head, and vanished. The fat man went up to the table, sat down, opened a book, took out a reckoning frame, and began shifting the beads to and fro as he counted, using not the forefinger, but the third finger of his right hand, which has a much more showy effect. The clerk on duty came in. “What is it?” “Sidor is here from Goloplek.” “Oh! ask him in. Wait a bit, wait a bit.--First go and look whether the strange gentleman’s still asleep, or whether he has waked up.” The clerk on duty came cautiously into my room. I laid my head on my game-bag, which served me as a pillow, and closed my eyes. “He’s asleep,” whispered the clerk on duty, returning to the counting-house. The fat man muttered something. “Well, send Sidor in,” he said at last. I got up again. A peasant of about thirty, of huge stature, came in--a red-cheeked, vigorous-looking fellow, with brown hair, and a short curly beard. He crossed himself, praying to the holy image, bowed to the head clerk, held his hat before him in both hands, and stood erect. “Good day, Sidor,” said the fat man, tapping with the reckoning beads. “Good day to you, Nikolai Eremyitch.” “Well, what are the roads like?” “Pretty fair, Nikolai Eremyitch. A bit muddy.” The peasant spoke slowly and not loud. “Wife quite well?” “She’s all right!” The peasant gave a sigh and shifted one leg forward. Nikolai Eremyitch put his pen behind his ear, and blew his nose. “Well, what have you come about?” he proceeded to inquire, putting his check handkerchief into his pocket. “Why, they do say, Nikolai Eremyitch, they’re asking for carpenters from us.” “Well, aren’t there any among you, hey?” “To be sure there are, Nikolai Eremyitch; our place is right in the woods; our earnings are all from the wood, to be sure. But it’s the busy time, Nikolai Eremyitch. Where’s the time to come from?” “The time to come from! Busy time! I dare say you’re so eager to work for outsiders, and don’t care to work for your mistress.--It’s all the same!” “The work’s all the same, certainly, Nikolai Eremyitch--but--” “Well?” “The pay’s--very--” “What next! You’ve been spoiled; that’s what it is. Get along with you!” “And what’s more, Nikolai Eremyitch, there’ll be only a week’s work, but they’ll keep us hanging on a month. One time there’s not material enough, and another time they’ll send us into the garden to weed the path.” “What of it? Our lady herself is pleased to give the order, so it’s useless you and me talking about it.” Sidor was silent; he began shifting from one leg to the other. Nikolai Eremyitch put his head on one side, and began busily playing with the reckoning beads. “Our--peasants--Nikolai Eremyitch--” Sidor began at last, hesitating over each word, “sent word to your honor--there is--see here--” He thrust his big hand into the bosom of his coat, and began to pull out a folded linen kerchief with a red border.