ANÍSYA. Yes, quite weak, dear, quite weak. He's got me into a regular fix. I don't myself know anything. Oh, my poor head! NEIGHBOUR [listening] There's someone coming, I think. [The door opens and Akím enters]. AKÍM [crosses himself, knocks the snow off his feet, and takes off his coat] Peace be to this house! How do you do? Are you well, daughter? ANÍSYA. How d'you do, father? Do you come straight from home? AKÍM. I've been a-thinking, I'll go and see what's name, go to see my son, I mean,--my son. I didn't start early--had my dinner, I mean; I went, and it's so what d'you call it--so snowy, hard walking, and so there I'm what d'you call it--late, I mean. And my son--is he at home? At home? My son, I mean. ANÍSYA. No; he's gone to the town. AKÍM [sits down on a bench] I've some business with him, d'you see, some business, I mean. I told him t'other day, told him I was in need--told him, I mean, that our horse was done for, our horse, you see. So we must what d'ye call it, get a horse, I mean, some kind of a horse, I mean. So there, I've come, you see. ANÍSYA. Nikíta told me. When he comes back you'll have a talk. [Goes to the oven] Have some supper now, and he'll soon come. Mítritch, eh Mítritch, come have your supper. MÍTRITCH. Oh Lord! merciful Nicholas! ANÍSYA. Come to supper. NEIGHBOUR. I shall go now. Good-night. [Exit]. MÍTRITCH [gets down from the oven] I never noticed how I fell asleep. Oh Lord! gracious Nicholas! How d'you do, Daddy Akím? AKÍM. Ah, Mítritch! What are you, what d'ye call it, I mean?... MÍTRITCH. Why, I'm working for your son, Nikíta. AKÍM. Dear me! What d'ye call ... working for my son, I mean. Dear me! MÍTRITCH. I was living with a tradesman in town, but drank all I had there. Now I've come back to the village. I've no home, so I've gone into service. [Gapes] Oh Lord! AKÍM. But how's that, what d'you call it, or what's name, Nikíta, what does he do? Has he some business, I mean besides, that he should hire a labourer, a labourer I mean, hire a labourer? ANÍSYA. What business should he have? He used to manage, but now he's other things on his mind, so he's hired a labourer. MÍTRITCH. Why shouldn't he, seeing he has money? AKÍM. Now that's what d'you call it, that's wrong, I mean, quite wrong, I mean. That's spoiling oneself. ANÍSYA. Oh, he has got spoilt, that spoilt, it's just awful. AKÍM. There now, what d'you call it, one thinks how to make things better, and it gets worse I mean. Riches spoil a man, spoil, I mean. MÍTRITCH. Fatness makes even a dog go mad; how's one not to get spoilt by fat living? Myself now; how I went on with fat living. I drank for three weeks without being sober. I drank my last breeches. When I had nothing left, I gave it up. Now I've determined not to. Bother it! AKÍM. And where's what d'you call, your old woman?