living in town, airless and crowded, our writing useless papers, our
playing _vint_--isn't that all a sort of case for us? And our spending
our whole lives among trivial, fussy men and silly, idle women, our
talking and our listening to all sorts of nonsense--isn't that a case
for us, too? If you like, I will tell you a very edifying story."

"No; it's time we were asleep," said Burkin. "Tell it tomorrow."

They went into the barn and lay down on the hay. And they were both
covered up and beginning to doze when they suddenly heard light
footsteps--patter, patter.... Some one was walking not far from the
barn, walking a little and stopping, and a minute later, patter, patter
again.... The dogs began growling.

"That's Mavra," said Burkin.

The footsteps died away.

"You see and hear that they lie," said Ivan Ivanovitch, turning over
on the other side, "and they call you a fool for putting up with their
lying. You endure insult and humiliation, and dare not openly say that
you are on the side of the honest and the free, and you lie and smile
yourself; and all that for the sake of a crust of bread, for the sake of
a warm corner, for the sake of a wretched little worthless rank in the
service. No, one can't go on living like this."

"Well, you are off on another tack now, Ivan Ivanovitch," said the
schoolmaster. "Let us go to sleep!"

And ten minutes later Burkin was asleep. But Ivan Ivanovitch kept