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- Лев Толстой
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- Анна Каренина
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- Стр. 277/828
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At
the
afternoon
rest
,
when
they
were
sitting
down
again
,
and
those
who
smoked
had
lighted
their
pipes
,
the
old
man
told
the
men
that
“
Mashkin
Upland
’
s
to
be
cut
—
there
’
ll
be
some
vodka
.
”
“
Why
not
cut
it
?
Come
on
,
Tit
!
We
’
ll
look
sharp
!
We
can
eat
at
night
.
Come
on
!
”
cried
voices
,
and
eating
up
their
bread
,
the
mowers
went
back
to
work
.
“
Come
,
lads
,
keep
it
up
!
”
said
Tit
,
and
ran
on
ahead
almost
at
a
trot
.
“
Get
along
,
get
along
!
”
said
the
old
man
,
hurrying
after
him
and
easily
overtaking
him
,
“
I
’
ll
mow
you
down
,
look
out
!
”
And
young
and
old
mowed
away
,
as
though
they
were
racing
with
one
another
.
But
however
fast
they
worked
,
they
did
not
spoil
the
grass
,
and
the
rows
were
laid
just
as
neatly
and
exactly
.
The
little
piece
left
uncut
in
the
corner
was
mown
in
five
minutes
.
The
last
of
the
mowers
were
just
ending
their
rows
while
the
foremost
snatched
up
their
coats
onto
their
shoulders
,
and
crossed
the
road
towards
Mashkin
Upland
.
The
sun
was
already
sinking
into
the
trees
when
they
went
with
their
jingling
dippers
into
the
wooded
ravine
of
Mashkin
Upland
.
The
grass
was
up
to
their
waists
in
the
middle
of
the
hollow
,
soft
,
tender
,
and
feathery
,
spotted
here
and
there
among
the
trees
with
wild
heart
’
s
-
ease
.
After
a
brief
consultation
—
whether
to
take
the
rows
lengthwise
or
diagonally
—
Prohor
Yermilin
,
also
a
renowned
mower
,
a
huge
,
black
-
haired
peasant
,
went
on
ahead
.
He
went
up
to
the
top
,
turned
back
again
and
started
mowing
,
and
they
all
proceeded
to
form
in
line
behind
him
,
going
downhill
through
the
hollow
and
uphill
right
up
to
the
edge
of
the
forest
.
The
sun
sank
behind
the
forest
.
The
dew
was
falling
by
now
;
the
mowers
were
in
the
sun
only
on
the
hillside
,
but
below
,
where
a
mist
was
rising
,
and
on
the
opposite
side
,
they
mowed
into
the
fresh
,
dewy
shade
.
The
work
went
rapidly
.
The
grass
cut
with
a
juicy
sound
,
and
was
at
once
laid
in
high
,
fragrant
rows
.
The
mowers
from
all
sides
,
brought
closer
together
in
the
short
row
,
kept
urging
one
another
on
to
the
sound
of
jingling
dippers
and
clanging
scythes
,
and
the
hiss
of
the
whetstones
sharpening
them
,
and
good
-
humored
shouts
.
Levin
still
kept
between
the
young
peasant
and
the
old
man
.
The
old
man
,
who
had
put
on
his
short
sheepskin
jacket
,
was
just
as
good
-
humored
,
jocose
,
and
free
in
his
movements
.
Among
the
trees
they
were
continually
cutting
with
their
scythes
the
so
-
called
“
birch
mushrooms
,
”
swollen
fat
in
the
succulent
grass
.
But
the
old
man
bent
down
every
time
he
came
across
a
mushroom
,
picked
it
up
and
put
it
in
his
bosom
.
“
Another
present
for
my
old
woman
,
”
he
said
as
he
did
so
.
Easy
as
it
was
to
mow
the
wet
,
soft
grass
,
it
was
hard
work
going
up
and
down
the
steep
sides
of
the
ravine
.
But
this
did
not
trouble
the
old
man
