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Levin smiled contemptuously. "I know," he thought, "that fashion

not only in him, but in all city people, who, after being twice

in ten years in the country, pick up two or three phrases and use

them in season and out of season, firmly persuaded that they know

all about it. 'Timber, run to so many yards the acre.' He says

those words without understanding them himself."

"I wouldn't attempt to teach you what you write about in your

office," said he, "and if need arose, I should come to you to ask

about it. But you're so positive you know all the lore of the

forest. It's difficult. Have you counted the trees?"

"How count the trees?" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, laughing, still

trying to draw his friend out of his ill-temper. "Count the sands

of the sea, number the stars. Some higher power might do it."