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"Yes, sir," answered Vassily, and he took the horse's head. "What

a sowing, Konstantin Dmitrievitch," he said, hesitating; "first

rate. Only it's a work to get about! You drag a ton of earth on

your shoes."

"Why is it you have earth that's not sifted?" said Levin.

"Well, we crumble it up," answered Vassily, taking up some seed

and rolling the earth in his palms.

Vassily was not to blame for their having filled up his cart with

unsifted earth, but still it was annoying.

Levin had more than once already tried a way he knew for stifling

his anger, and turning all that seemed dark right again, and he

tried that way now. He watched how Mishka strode along, swinging

the huge clods of earth that clung to each foot; and getting off

his horse, he took the sieve from Vassily and started sowing

himself.

"Where did you stop?"