“No, no.  If they wish to separate from you, they will take some land from you.  You must take at least four.  The old wives there who have little children cannot take shares according to the number of souls.”

“He is a rich muzhik!” says a voice in the crowd.  “Lay on him five souls!” (that is to say, give him five shares of the land and of the burdens).

“Five souls I cannot!  By God, I cannot!”

“Very well, you shall have four,” says the leading spirit to Ivan; and then, turning to the crowd, inquires, “Shall it be so?”

“Four! four!” murmurs the crowd; and the question is settled.

Next comes one of the old wives just referred to.  Her husband is a permanent invalid, and she has three little boys, only one of whom is old enough for field labour.  If the number of souls were taken as the basis of distribution, she would receive four shares; but she would never be able to pay four shares of the Communal burdens.  She must therefore receive less than that amount.  When asked how many she will take, she replies with downcast eyes, “As the Mir decides, so be it!”

“Then you must take three.”

“What do you say, little father?” cries the woman, throwing off suddenly her air of submissive obedience.  “Do you hear that, ye orthodox?  They want to lay upon me three souls!  Was such a thing ever heard of?  Since St. Peter’s Day my husband has been bedridden—­bewitched, it seems, for nothing does him good.  He cannot put a foot to the ground—­all the same as if he were dead; only he eats bread!”

“You talk nonsense,” says a neighbour; “he was in the kabak [gin-shop] last week.”

“And you!” retorts the woman, wandering from the subject in hand; “what did you do last parish fete?  Was it not you who got drunk and beat your wife till she roused the whole village with her shrieking?  And no further gone than last Sunday—­pfu!”

“Listen!” says the old man, sternly cutting short the torrent of invective.  “You must take at least two shares and a half.  If you cannot manage it yourself, you can get some one to help you.”

“How can that be?  Where am I to get the money to pay a labourer?” asks the woman, with much wailing and a flood of tears.  “Have pity, ye orthodox, on the poor orphans!  God will reward you!” and so on, and so on.

I need not worry the reader with a further description of these scenes, which are always very long and sometimes violent.  All present are deeply interested, for the allotment of the land is by far the most important event in Russian peasant life, and the arrangement cannot be made without endless talking and discussion.  After the number of shares for each family has been decided, the distribution of the lots gives rise to new difficulties.  The families who have plentifully manured their land strive to get back their old lots, and the Commune respects their claims so far as these are consistent with the new arrangement; but often