The sun had just risen, the air was fresh and invigorating and densely filled with the odour of pines; the calm water of the river, reflecting the clear sky, was gently murmuring, breaking against the sides of the vessels and the chains of the anchors. The loud and cheerful noise of toil, the youthful beauty of nature, gaily illumined by the sunbeams--all was full of a kind-hearted, somewhat crude, sound power, which pleasantly stirred Foma’s soul, awakening in him new and perplexed sensations and desires. He was sitting by the table under the awning of the steamer and drinking tea, together with Yefim and the receiver of the corn, a provincial clerk--a redheaded, short-sighted gentleman in glasses. Nervously shrugging his shoulders the receiver was telling in a hoarse voice how the peasants were starving, but Foma paid little attention to his words, looking now at the work below, now at the other side of the river--a tall, yellow, sandy steep shore, whose edges were covered with pine trees. It was unpeopled and quiet. “I’ll have to go over there,” thought Foma. And as though from a distance the receiver’s tiresome, unpleasant, harsh voice fell on his ears: “You wouldn’t believe it--at last it became horrible! Such an incident took place! A peasant came up to a certain intelligent man in Osa and brought along with him a girl about sixteen years old. “‘What do you wish?” “‘Here,’ he says, ‘I’ve brought my daughter to your Honour.’ “‘What for?’ “‘Perhaps,’ he says, ‘you’ll take her--you are a bachelor.’ “‘That is, how? What do you mean?’ “‘I took her around town,’ he says. ‘I wanted to hire her out as a servant--but nobody would have her--take her at least as your mistress!’ “Do you understand? He offered his own daughter--just think of it! A daughter--as a mistress! The devil knows what that is! Eh? The man, of course, became indignant and began abusing the peasant. But the peasant spoke to him reasonably: “‘Your Honour! Of what use is she to me at this time? Utterly useless. I have,’ says he, ‘three boys--they will be working men; it is necessary to keep them up. Give me,’ says he, ‘ten roubles for the girl, and that will improve my lot and that of my boys.’ “How is that? Eh? It is simply terrible, I tell you.” “No good!” sighed Yefim. “As they say--hunger will break through stone walls. The stomach, you see, has its own laws.” This story called forth in Foma a great incomprehensible interest in the fate of the girl, and the youth hastened to enquire of the receiver: “Well, did the man buy her?” “Of course not!” exclaimed the receiver, reproachfully. “Well, and what became of her?” “Some good people took pity on her--and provided for her.” “A-h!” drawled Foma, and suddenly he said firmly and angrily: “I would have given that peasant such a thrashing! I would have broken his head!” And he showed the receiver his big tightly-clenched fist.