Part Three: Chapter 4

by Leo Tolstoy

　　The personal matter that absorbed Levin during his conversationwith his brother was this. Once in a previous year he had goneto look at the mowing, and being made very angry by the bailiffhe had recourse to his favorite means for regaining his temper,--he took a scythe from a peasant and began mowing.

　　He liked the work so much that he had several times tried hishand at mowing since. He had cut the whole of the meadow infront of his house, and this year ever since the early spring hehad cherished a plan for mowing for whole days together with thepeasants. Ever since his brother's arrival, he had been in doubtwhether to mow or not. He was loath to leave his brother aloneall day long, and he was afraid his brother would laugh at himabout it. But as he drove into the meadow, and recalled thesensations of mowing, he came near deciding that he would gomowing. After the irritating discussion with his brother, hepondered over this intention again.

　　"I must have physical exercise, or my temper'll certainly beruined," he thought, and he determined he would go mowing,however awkward he might feel about it with his brother or thepeasants.

　　Towards evening Konstantin Levin went to his counting house, gavedirections as to the work to be done, and sent about the villageto summon the mowers for the morrow, to cut the hay in Kalinovmeadow, the largest and best of his grass lands.

　　"And send my scythe, please, to Tit, for him to set it, and bringit round tomorrow. I shall maybe do some mowing myself too," hesaid trying not to be embarrassed.

　　The bailiff smiled and said: "Yes, sir."

　　At tea the same evening Levin said to his brother:

　　"I fancy the fine weather will last. Tomorrow I shall startmowing."

　　"I'm so fond of that form of field labor," said SergeyIvanovitch.

　　"I'm awfully fond of it. I sometimes mow myself with thepeasants, and tomorrow I want to try mowing the whole day."

　　Sergey Ivanovitch lifted his head, and looked with interest athis brother.

　　"How do you mean? Just like one of the peasants, all day long?"

　　"Yes, it's very pleasant," said Levin.

　　"It's splendid as exercise, only you'll hardly be able to standit," said Sergey Ivanovitch, without a shade of irony.

　　"I've tried it. It's hard work at first, but you get into it.I dare say I shall manage to keep it up..."

　　"Really! what an idea! But tell me, how do the peasants look atit? I suppose they laugh in their sleeves at their master'sbeing such a queer fish?"

　　"No, I don't think so; but it's so delightful, and at the sametime such hard work, that one has no time to think about it."

　　"But how will you do about dining with them? To send you abottle of Lafitte and roast turkey out there would be a littleawkward."

　　"No, I'll simply come home at the time of their noonday rest."

　　Next morning Konstantin Levin got up earlier than usual, but hewas detained giving directions on the farm, and when he reachedthe mowing grass the mowers were already at their second row.

　　From the uplands he could get a view of the shaded cut part ofthe meadow below, with its grayish ridges of cut grass, and theblack heaps of coats, taken off by the mowers at the place fromwhich they had started cutting.

　　Gradually, as he rode towards the meadow, the peasants came intosight, some in coats, some in their shirts mowing, one behindanother in a long string, swinging their scythes differently. Hecounted forty-two of them.

　　They were mowing slowly over the uneven, low-lying parts of themeadow, where there had been an old dam. Levin recognized someof his own men. Here was old Yermil in a very long white smock,bending forward to swing a scythe; there was a young fellow,Vaska, who had been a coachman of Levin's, taking every row witha wide sweep. Here, too, was Tit, Levin's preceptor in the artof mowing, a thin little peasant. He was in front of all, andcut his wide row without bending, as though playing with thescythe.

　　Levin got off his mare, and fastening her up by the roadside wentto meet Tit, who took a second scythe out of a bush and gave itto him.

　　"It's ready, sir; it's like a razor, cuts of itself," said Tit,taking off his cap with a smile and giving him the scythe.

　　Levin took the scythe, and began trying it. As they finishedtheir rows, the mowers, hot and good-humored, came out into theroad one after another, and, laughing a little, greeted themaster. They all stared at him, but no one made any remark, tilla tall old man, with a wrinkled, beardless face, wearing a shortsheepskin jacket, came out into the road and accosted him.

　　"Look'ee now, master, once take hold of the rope there's noletting it go!" he said, and Levin heard smothered laughter amongthe mowers.

　　"I'll try not to let it go," he said, taking his stand behindTit, and waiting for the time to begin.

　　"Mind'ee," repeated the old man.

　　Tit made room, and Levin started behind him. The grass was shortclose to the road, and Levin, who had not done any mowing for along while, and was disconcerted by the eyes fastened upon him,cut badly for the first moments, though he swung his scythevigorously. Behind him he heard voices:

　　"It's not set right; handle's too high; see how he has to stoopto it," said one.

　　"Press more on the heel," said another.

　　"Never mind, he'll get on all right," the old man resumed.

　　"He's made a start.... You swing it too wide, you'll tireyourself out.... The master, sure, does his best for himself!But see the grass missed out! For such work us fellows wouldcatch it!"

　　The grass became softer, and Levin, listening without answering,followed Tit, trying to do the best he could. They moved ahundred paces. Tit kept moving on, without stopping, not showingthe slightest weariness, but Levin was already beginning to beafraid he would not be able to keep it up: he was so tired.

　　He felt as he swung his scythe that he was at the very end of hisstrength, and was making up his mind to ask Tit to stop. But atthat very moment Tit stopped of his own accord, and stooping downpicked up some grass, rubbed his scythe, and began whetting it.Levin straightened himself, and drawing a deep breath lookedround. Behind him came a peasant, and he too was evidentlytired, for he stopped at once without waiting to mow up to Levin,and began whetting his scythe. Tit sharpened his scythe andLevin's, and they went on. The next time it was just the same.Tit moved on with sweep after sweep of his scythe, not stoppingor showing signs of weariness. Levin followed him, trying not toget left behind, and he found it harder and harder: the momentcame when he felt he had no strength left, but at that verymoment Tit stopped and whetted the scythes.

　　So they mowed the first row. And this long row seemedparticularly hard work to Levin; but when the end was reached andTit, shouldering his scythe, began with deliberate stridereturning on the tracks left by his heels in the cut grass, andLevin walked back in the same way over the space he had cut, inspite of the sweat that ran in streams over his face and fell indrops down his nose, and drenched his back as though he had beensoaked in water, he felt very happy. What delighted himparticularly was that now he knew he would be able to hold out.

　　His pleasure was only disturbed by his row not being well cut."I will swing less with my arm and more with my whole body," hethought, comparing Tit's row, which looked as if it had been cutwith a line, with his own unevenly and irregularly lying grass.

　　The first row, as Levin noticed, Tit had mowed specially quickly,probably wishing to put his master to the test, and the rowhappened to be a long one. The next rows were easier, but stillLevin had to strain every nerve not to drop behind the peasants.

　　He thought of nothing, wished for nothing, but not to be leftbehind the peasants, and to do his work as well as possible. Heheard nothing but the swish of scythes, and saw before him Tit'supright figure mowing away, the crescent-shaped curve of the cutgrass, the grass and flower heads slowly and rhythmically fallingbefore the blade of his scythe, and ahead of him the end of therow, where would come the rest.

　　Suddenly, in the midst of his toil, without understanding what itwas or whence it came, he felt a pleasant sensation of chill onhis hot, moist shoulders. He glanced at the sky in the intervalfor whetting the scythes. A heavy, lowering storm cloud hadblown up, and big raindrops were falling. Some of the peasantswent to their coats and put them on; others--just like Levinhimself--merely shrugged their shoulders, enjoying the pleasantcoolness of it.

　　Another row, and yet another row, followed--long rows and shortrows, with good grass and with poor grass. Levin lost all senseof time, and could not have told whether it was late or earlynow. A change began to come over his work, which gave himimmense satisfaction. In the midst of his toil there weremoments during which he forgot what he was doing, and it came alleasy to him, and at those same moments his row was almost assmooth and well cut as Tit's. But so soon as he recollected whathe was doing, and began trying to do better, he was at onceconscious of all the difficulty of his task, and the row wasbadly mown.

　　On finishing yet another row he would have gone back to the topof the meadow again to begin the next, but Tit stopped, and goingup to the old man said something in a low voice to him. Theyboth looked at the sun. "What are they talking about, and whydoesn't he go back?" thought Levin, not guessing that thepeasants had been mowing no less than four hours withoutstopping, and it was time for their lunch.

　　"Lunch, sir," said the old man.

　　"Is it really time? That's right; lunch, then."

　　Levin gave his scythe to Tit, and together with the peasants, whowere crossing the long stretch of mown grass, slightly sprinkledwith rain, to get their bread from the heap of coats, he wenttowards his house. Only then he suddenly awoke to the fact thathe had been wrong about the weather and the rain was drenchinghis hay.

　　"The hay will be spoiled," he said.

　　"Not a bit of it, sir; mow in the rain, and you'll rake in fineweather!" said the old man.

　　Levin untied his horse and rode home to his coffee. SergeyIvanovitch was only just getting up. When he had drunk hiscoffee, Levin rode back again to the mowing before SergeyIvanovitch had had time to dress and come down to thedining room.