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Levin untied his horse and rode home to his coffee. Sergey

Ivanovitch was only just getting up. When he had drunk his

coffee, Levin rode back again to the mowing before Sergey

Ivanovitch had had time to dress and come down to the

dining-room.

Chapter 5

After lunch Levin was not in the same place in the string of

mowers as before, but stood between the old man who had accosted

him jocosely, and now invited him to be his neighbor, and a young

peasant, who had only been married in the autumn, and who was

mowing this summer for the first time.

The old man, holding himself erect, moved in front, with his feet

turned out, taking long, regular strides, and with a precise and

regular action which seemed to cost him no more effort than

swinging one's arms in walking, as though it were in play, he

laid down the high, even row of grass. It was as though it were

not he but the sharp scythe of itself swishing through the juicy

grass.