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- Лев Толстой
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- Анна Каренина
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- Стр. 803/828
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Having
lived
the
greater
part
of
his
life
in
the
country
and
in
the
closest
relations
with
the
peasants
,
Levin
always
felt
in
this
busy
time
that
he
was
infected
by
this
general
quickening
of
energy
in
the
people
.
In
the
early
morning
he
rode
over
to
the
first
sowing
of
the
rye
,
and
to
the
oats
,
which
were
being
carried
to
the
stacks
,
and
returning
home
at
the
time
his
wife
and
sister
-
in
-
law
were
getting
up
,
he
drank
coffee
with
them
and
walked
to
the
farm
,
where
a
new
thrashing
machine
was
to
be
set
working
to
get
ready
the
seed
-
corn
.
He
was
standing
in
the
cool
granary
,
still
fragrant
with
the
leaves
of
the
hazel
branches
interlaced
on
the
freshly
peeled
aspen
beams
of
the
new
thatch
roof
.
He
gazed
through
the
open
door
in
which
the
dry
bitter
dust
of
the
thrashing
whirled
and
played
,
at
the
grass
of
the
thrashing
floor
in
the
sunlight
and
the
fresh
straw
that
had
been
brought
in
from
the
barn
,
then
at
the
speckly
-
headed
,
white
-
breasted
swallows
that
flew
chirping
in
under
the
roof
and
,
fluttering
their
wings
,
settled
in
the
crevices
of
the
doorway
,
then
at
the
peasants
bustling
in
the
dark
,
dusty
barn
,
and
he
thought
strange
thoughts
.
“
Why
is
it
all
being
done
?
”
he
thought
.
“
Why
am
I
standing
here
,
making
them
work
?
What
are
they
all
so
busy
for
,
trying
to
show
their
zeal
before
me
?
What
is
that
old
Matrona
,
my
old
friend
,
toiling
for
?
(
I
doctored
her
,
when
the
beam
fell
on
her
in
the
fire
)
”
he
thought
,
looking
at
a
thin
old
woman
who
was
raking
up
the
grain
,
moving
painfully
with
her
bare
,
sun
-
blackened
feet
over
the
uneven
,
rough
floor
.
“
Then
she
recovered
,
but
today
or
tomorrow
or
in
ten
years
she
won
’
t
;
they
’
ll
bury
her
,
and
nothing
will
be
left
either
of
her
or
of
that
smart
girl
in
the
red
jacket
,
who
with
that
skillful
,
soft
action
shakes
the
ears
out
of
their
husks
.
They
’
ll
bury
her
and
this
piebald
horse
,
and
very
soon
too
,
”
he
thought
,
gazing
at
the
heavily
moving
,
panting
horse
that
kept
walking
up
the
wheel
that
turned
under
him
.
“
And
they
will
bury
her
and
Fyodor
the
thrasher
with
his
curly
beard
full
of
chaff
and
his
shirt
torn
on
his
white
shoulders
—
they
will
bury
him
.
He
’
s
untying
the
sheaves
,
and
giving
orders
,
and
shouting
to
the
women
,
and
quickly
setting
straight
the
strap
on
the
moving
wheel
.
And
what
’
s
more
,
it
’
s
not
them
alone
—
me
they
’
ll
bury
too
,
and
nothing
will
be
left
.
What
for
?
”
He
thought
this
,
and
at
the
same
time
looked
at
his
watch
to
reckon
how
much
they
thrashed
in
an
hour
.
He
wanted
to
know
this
so
as
to
judge
by
it
the
task
to
set
for
the
day
.
“
It
’
ll
soon
be
one
,
and
they
’
re
only
beginning
the
third
sheaf
,
”
thought
Levin
.
He
went
up
to
the
man
that
was
feeding
the
machine
,
and
shouting
over
the
roar
of
the
machine
he
told
him
to
put
it
in
more
slowly
.
“
You
put
in
too
much
at
a
time
,
Fyodor
.
Do
you
see
—
it
gets
choked
,
that
’
s
why
it
isn
’
t
getting
on
.
Do
it
evenly
.
”
Fyodor
,
black
with
the
dust
that
clung
to
his
moist
face
,
shouted
something
in
response
,
but
still
went
on
doing
it
as
Levin
did
not
want
him
to
.
Levin
,
going
up
to
the
machine
,
moved
Fyodor
aside
,
and
began
feeding
the
corn
in
himself
.
Working
on
till
the
peasants
’
dinner
hour
,
which
was
not
long
in
coming
,
he
went
out
of
the
barn
with
Fyodor
and
fell
into
talk
with
him
,
stopping
beside
a
neat
yellow
sheaf
of
rye
laid
on
the
thrashing
floor
for
seed
.
Fyodor
came
from
a
village
at
some
distance
from
the
one
in
which
Levin
had
once
allotted
land
to
his
cooperative
association
.
Now
it
had
been
let
to
a
former
house
porter
.
