He liked the work so much that he had several times tried his hand at mowing since.  He had cut the whole of the meadow in front of his house, and this year ever since the early spring he had cherished a plan for mowing for whole days together with the peasants.  Ever since his brother’s arrival, he had been in doubt whether to mow or not.  He was loath to leave his brother alone all day long, and he was afraid his brother would laugh at him about it.  But as he drove into the meadow, and recalled the sensations of mowing, he came near deciding that he would go mowing.  After the irritating discussion with his brother, he pondered over this intention again.

“I must have physical exercise, or my temper’ll certainly be ruined,” he thought, and he determined he would go mowing, however awkward he might feel about it with his brother or the peasants.

Towards evening Konstantin Levin went to his counting house, gave directions as to the work to be done, and sent about the village to summon the mowers for the morrow, to cut the hay in Kalinov meadow, the largest and best of his grass lands.

“And send my scythe, please, to Tit, for him to set it, and bring it round tomorrow.  I shall maybe do some mowing myself too,” he said, 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 start mowing.”

“I’m so fond of that form of field labor,” said Sergey Ivanovitch.

“I’m awfully fond of it.  I sometimes mow myself with the peasants, and tomorrow I want to try mowing the whole day.”

Sergey Ivanovitch lifted his head, and looked with interest at his 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 stand it,” 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 at it?  I suppose they laugh in their sleeves at their master’s being such a queer fish?”

“No, I don’t think so; but it’s so delightful, and at the same time such hard work, that one has no time to think about it.”

“But how will you do about dining with them?  To send you a bottle of Lafitte and roast turkey out there would be a little awkward.”

“No, I’ll simply come home at the time of their noonday rest.”

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

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