“We know what it means to you, and our hearts are not of stone.” “And your goodman is away too, as ours are.” “And that makes it so much harder for you!” “Our Lord has sent a far heavier trial to you than to us.” They had put their heads together to bring her what they could: pease, pearl barley, flour ... and so forth. “O kind goodwives, dear to me as ever my own mother was!” And she embraced them fondly, with many a sob, whilst they wept with her. But Hanka had no time to stay; so, glad that there were still good people in the world, she hurried back to her cabin. Though there was no direct sunlight, it was a pretty fine day, and plenty of sun filtered through the clouds. The sky rose above, like a great sheet of bluish canvas, with white ragged kerchiefs of cloud laid out upon it. Beneath, the fields expanded unendingly, distinctly seen, verdant in places, and in others tawny with stubble or with bits of fallow land, or bright with streams, glittering like window-panes. Larks sang loud. From the plain was wafted the fresh odour of springtime, redolent with moist warmth, and the honey-sweet aromas of poplar-buds. There was a breeze, but so soft that the down of the first verdure on the boughs was all but motionless. About the church were congregated sparrows in such countless multitudes that the wide-spreading branches of the maples and lindens were black with them as with soot, and the deafening din of their chirping was heard throughout the village. On the smooth lustrous pond, the ganders screamed, watching their goslings, while the sharp squattering of the washerwomen’s beaters told that a good deal of linen was being bucked. Rooms and passages stood wide open from one end of the huts to the other, the wash was drying on the hedges, bedding was being aired in the orchards, and in some places they were whitewashing the walls. Swine, much vexed by dogs, sniffed about in the ditches; and here and there a few cows, lifting their horned heads from behind the fences, would utter a plaintive bellow. Many a wagon, too, was rolling along to town to make purchases for Eastertide; but, immediately after noonday, there came the old pedlar Yudka in his long cart, with his wife and a young olive-branch. With a following of unfriendly dogs, they were driving from hut to hut, and seldom did old Yudka leave with empty hands. For he was no cheat, such as the tavern-keeper and many another: he gave good prices, and, if anyone needed a loan till harvest-time, would grant one on easy terms: a shrewd man, who knew all the folk in the village, and how to deal with them. Often enough he had a calf trotting after his wagon, or half a bushel of good corn inside of it. His Jewess did business, but on her own account, mostly by way of barter; getting eggs, cocks, or moulting hens, for which she would give (at a scandalous profit) the frills and ribbons, the braid and pins, and other articles of finery, so much coveted by the female sex.