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The load was tied on. Ivan jumped down and took the quiet, sleek

horse by the bridle. The young wife flung the rake up on the

load, and with a bold step, swinging her arms, she went to join

the women, who were forming a ring for the haymakers' dance. Ivan

drove off to the road and fell into line with the other loaded

carts. The peasant women, with their rakes on their shoulders,

gay with bright flowers, and chattering with ringing, merry

voices, walked behind the hay cart. One wild untrained female

voice broke into a song, and sang it alone through a verse, and

then the same verse was taken up and repeated by half a hundred

strong healthy voices, of all sorts, coarse and fine, singing in

unison.