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"Iván," said the old man, "my death has come : you, too, will have to die. Whose sin is it?"

Iván looked at his father, and said nothing. He could not utter a word.

"Tell me in God's presence! Whose sin was it? What did I tell you?"

Only at this moment Iván came to himself, and comprehended all. He began to snuffle with his nose, and

said,

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Mine, bátiushka ! " and he fell on his knees before his father, began to weep, and said,

"Forgive me, bátiushka : I am guilty before you and before God."

The old man waved his hands, took the candle in his left, and pointed with his right to his forehead; tried to cross himself, but failed to lift it high enough, and stopped short.

"Praise the Lord, praise the Lord!" he said, and then he looked sternly at his son.

"But Vánka, Vánka!"

"What is it, bátiushka?"

"What ought you to do now?”

Iván kept on weeping.

"I don't know, bátiushka," he said. "How are we going to live now, bátiushka?"

The old man shut his eyes, moved his lips, as though trying to gather his strength; and then he opened his eyes again, and said, "You will get along! if you live with God-you will get along."

The old man stopped speaking, and smiled, and said, "Look, Ványa! don't tell who set the fire. Hide your neighbor's sin, and God will forgive two

sins.

The old man took the candle in both his hands, held

them crossed on his breast, sighed, stretched himself, and died.

Iván did not expose Gavrilo, and no one knew who set the fire.

And Iván's heart grew soft toward Gavrilo, and Gavrilo was surprised because Iván did not tell any one about him. At first Gavrilo was afraid of him, but afterwards he got accustomed to it. The muzhiks ceased to quarrel, their families also. While they were rebuilding, both families lived in one dvor; and when the village was restored, and the dvors were put at a greater distance apart, Iván and Gavrilo again became neighbors in one nest.

And Iván and Gavrilo lived in neighborly fashion, just as the old men used to live. And Iván Shcherbakóf remembers the old man's advice, and God's proof that a fire ought to be quenched at the beginning.

And if any one does him harm, he does not try to retaliate, but he tries to arrange things; and if any one calls him a bad name, he does not try to outdo him in his reply, but he tries to teach him not to say bad things; and thus he teaches his babas and children; and thus Iván Shcherbakóf reformed, and began to live better than before.

WHERE LOVE IS, THERE GOD IS ALSO.

1885.

IN the city lived Martuin Avdyéitch, a shoemaker. He lived in a basement, in a little room with one window. The window looked out on the street. Through the window he used to watch the people passing by: although only their feet could be seen, yet by the boots Martuin Avdyéitch recognized their owners. Martuin Avdyéitch had lived long in one place, and had many acquaintances. Few pairs of boots in his district had not been in his hands once and again. Some he would half-sole, some he would patch, some he would stitch around, and occasionally he would also put on new uppers. And through the window he quite often recognized his work. Avdyéitch had plenty to do, because he was a faithful workman, used good material, did not make exorbitant charges, and kept his word. If he can finish an order by a certain time, he accepts it: if not, he will not deceive you, - he tells you so beforehand. And all knew Avdyéitch, and he was never out of work.

Avdyéitch had always been a good man; but as he grew old, he began to think more about his soul, and get nearer to God. Martuin's wife had died when he was still living with his master. His wife left him a boy three years old. None of their other children had

lived.

All the eldest had died in childhood.

Martuin

at first intended to send his little son to his sister in the village, but afterwards he felt sorry for him: he thought to himself, "It will be hard for my Kapitoshka to live in a strange family. I shall keep him with me."

And Avdyéitch left his master, and went into lodgings with his little son. But, through God's will, Avdyéitch had no luck with children. As Kapitoshka grew older, he began to help his father, and would have been a delight to him, but fell sick, went to bed, suffered a week, and died. Martuin buried his son, and fell into despair. So deep was this despair, that he began to complain of God. Martuin fell into such a melancholy state, that more than once he prayed to God for death, and reproached God because he did not take away him who was an old man, instead of his beloved only son. Avdyéitch also ceased to go to church.

And once a little old man, a fellow-countryman, came from Troïtsa (Trinity) to see Avdyéitch: for seven years he had been absent. Avdyéitch talked with him, and began to complain about his sorrows.

"I have no more desire to live," he said: "I only wish I was dead. That is all I pray God for. I am a man without any thing to hope for now."

And the little old man said to him,

"You don't talk right, Martuin: we must not judge God's doings. The world moves, not by your skill, but by God's will. God decreed for your son to die,— Consequently, it is for the best.

for you to live.

And you are in despair, because you wish to live for your own happiness."

"But what shall one live for?" asked Martuin.

And the little old man said, "We must live for God, Martuin. He gives you life, and for his sake you

must live. When you begin to live for him, you will not grieve over any thing, and all will seem easy to you."

Martuin kept silent for a moment, and then says, "But how can one live for the sake of God?"

And the little old man said, "Christ has taught us how to live for God. You know how to read? Buy a Testament, and read it: there you will learn how to live for God. Every thing is explained there."

And these words kindled a fire in Avdyéitch's heart. And he went that very same day, bought a New Testament in large print, and began to read. At first Avdyéitch intended to read only on holidays; but as he began to read, it so cheered his soul that he used to read every day. At times he would become so absorbed in reading, that all the kerosene in the lamp would burn out, and still he could not tear himself away. And so Avdyéitch used to read every evening. And the more he read, the clearer he understood what God wanted of him, and how one should live for God; and his heart constantly grew easier and easier. Formerly, when he lay down to sleep, he used to sigh and groan, and always think of his Kapitoshka; and now he only exclaimed, "Glory to thee! glory to thee, Lord! Thy will be done."

And from that time Avdyéitch's whole life was changed. In other days he, too, used to drop into a saloon, as a holiday amusement, to drink a cup of tea; and he was not averse to a little brandy either. He would take a drink with some acquaintance, and leave the saloon, not intoxicated exactly, yet in a happy frame of mind, and inclined to talk nonsense, and shout, and use abusive language at a person. Now he left off this sort of thing. His life became quiet

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