_Stepanìda._ Lord, save us! You’re in a mighty hurry, my girl! What are you rushing about like a wild thing for? Nothing is going to fall on our heads. And as for you, little father, you must be gone clean daft! How many more times in the day do you want to drink tea? This is the third time at home; and I doubt you had some down in the town too? (_Pours out tea._) _Antìp._ Well, dear heart! what does it matter? A fellow can’t get tipsy on tea. Yes; I had some tea with Brioùkhov, and again with Sàvva Sàvvich. What harm is there in drinking tea with a jolly good fellow? I say, mamma, I did Brioùkhov out of a thousand roubles to-day. (_Takes teacup._) _Stepanìda._ What next, child! Why, you get fleeced yourself on all sides. You never keep an eye upon your shopmen; you never look after the business. Why, Antìpoushka, what sort of business man are you? All you do is to sit from morning till night in a tavern and drink tea. Ah! dear, dear! it’s just a grief to look at you; there’s not a bit of method in you; even _I_ can’t manage to keep order in this house. The samovar stands on the table till eleven o’clock in the morning; first the men have their breakfast and go off to the shop; then you get up and dawdle over your breakfast till goodness knows when; and then your fine lady here comes down. And as for going to mass before breakfast, why, you don’t so much as cross yourselves, the Lord forgive you! Ah! Antìpoushka! if you’d give up your new-fangled ways and live as all respectable people should! You ought to get up at four in the morning and see that everything’s in order, and go out into the yard and look after everything there, and go to mass. Yes, my dear, and rout your good lady here out of bed too, and tell her it’s time to get up and look after the house; that’s what you ought to do. Yes, you needn’t look at me like that, Matryòna Sàvishna; I’ve said nothing but what’s right and true. _Matryòna._ I suppose you are going to begin and preach now!