"Well, friend, how are things going?"
"Please sir, what I need is some corn."
"How's that? Are you through with your own?
What a pity!
If you drank less vodka, and worked more, and prayed to God, the soil would feel it.
Where one grain grows now, two grains would grow.
Then there would be no need for you to borrow."
Foka smiles vaguely, instead of replying.
"You think if God is far from us, He does not see?" Porfiry Vladimirych goes on moralizing.
"God is here and there and everywhere, he is with us while we are talking here.
He sees everything and hears everything, he only pretends not to see things.
'Let my creatures live after their own way, and we shall see whether they will remember me.'
And we sinners take advantage of that, and instead of buying a candle for God from our meager means, we keep on going to the public-house.
That's why God gives us no corn. Am I not right, friend?"
"You are quite right, sir.
There's no denying it."
"Well, you see, you understand it now.
And why is it that you understand it? Because the Lord withdrew His mercy from you.
If you had had an abundant crop of corn, you would carry on again, but since God——"
"Right, sir, and if——"
"Wait a minute. Let me say a word.
The Lord recalls Himself to those who forgot Him. That is always the case.
And we must not grumble over it, but understand that God does it for our good.
Were we to remember God, He would never forget us.
He would grant us everything, corn and oats and potatoes—more than we need.
And He would take care of our animals. Look at your horse. It is skin and bones. And if you have chickens, He would keep them in condition, too."
"You are quite right, sir."
"Man's first duty is to honor God, man's second duty is to honor his superiors, those who have been distinguished by the czars themselves—the gentry, for instance."
"It seems to me, sir, that I——"
"That's just it, 'it seems to me.' But give a little thought to the matter, and you will find out that it's all different.
Now when you have come to borrow corn you are very respectful and bland. But two years ago, you remember, when I needed harvesters and came to you peasants to ask for help, what did you answer? 'We have to harvest ourselves,' you said.
'It is not the way it used to be,' you said, 'when we worked for the landlords. Now we are free!'
Free, and no corn!"
Yudushka looks at Foka, but Foka does not stir.
"You are very proud, that's why you have no luck.
Take me, for example. The Lord has blessed me, and the Czar has distinguished me.
But I am not proud. How can I be? What am I but a worm, a moth, a nothing.
God took and blessed me for my humility.
He loaded me with favors, and put it into the Czar's mind to favor me, too."
"Porfiry Vladimirych, I think that under serfdom we were far better off," Foka remarks, playing the flatterer.
"Yes, brother, those were fine days for you peasants.
You had plenty of everything, corn and hay and potatoes.
But why recall the old times? I am not rancorous. I have long forgotten about the harvesters. I only mentioned them in passing.
Let me see—did you say you needed corn?"
"Yes, I did, sir."
"You have come to buy some, have you?"
"How can I? I should like to borrow some until the new corn comes."
"My, my!
Corn is not to be had for money nowadays.
I really don't know what to do with you."