'And how are your pigs doing?' asked Yermolai, after a brief pause.

'They're alive.'

'You ought to make me a present of a sucking pig.'

The miller's wife was silent for a while, then she sighed.

'Who is it you're with?' she asked.

'A gentleman from Kostomarovo.'

Yermolai threw a few pine twigs on the fire; they all caught fire at
once, and a thick white smoke came puffing into his face.

'Why didn't your husband let us into the cottage?'

'He's afraid.'

'Afraid! the fat old tub! Arina Timofyevna, my darling, bring me a
little glass of spirits.'

The miller's wife rose and vanished into the darkness. Yermolai began
to sing in an undertone--

'When I went to see my sweetheart,
I wore out all my shoes.'


Arina returned with a small flask and a glass. Yermolai got up, crossed