rich, but lived in medium circumstances; and he was a good man.

He remembered Ilyas's hospitality,1 and pitied him, and said to Ilyas :

"Come, Ilyas," says he, "and live with me you and your old woman. In summer you can work for me in the garden, and in winter take care of the cattle; and Sham-Shemagi may milk the mares, and make kumys. I will feed and clothe you both; and whatever you need, tell me; I will give it."

Ilyas thanked his neighbor, and he and his wife began to live with Muhamedshah as servants. At first it came hard to them, but afterward they got used to it; and the old people went on living and working as much as their strength permitted.

The khozyaïn found it profitable to keep such people, because they had been masters2 themselves, and knew how to keep things orderly, and were not lazy, and worked according to their strength; only Muhamedshah felt sorry to see how people of such high station should have fallen to such a low condition.

Once it came to pass that some guests, some kinsmen from a distance, came to visit Muhamedshah; a Mulla came with them.

Muhamedshah gave orders to have a ram caught and killed. Ilyas dressed the ram, cooked it, and served it to the guests. The guests ate the mutton, drank some tea, and took some kumys.

While the guests were sitting with the khozyaïn on down pillows, on carpets, and were drinking kumys out of cups, and chatting, Ilyas had finished his chores, and was passing in front of the door.

Muhamedshah saw him, and asked a guest :

"Did you see that old man who went by the door?" "I saw him," said the guest; "but what is there remarkable about him?"

1 Khlyeb-sol; literally, bread-salt.

2 Khozyaeva.

3 Mulla or Molla, a sort of title given to priest and teachers among the Mohammedans.

"This is remarkable, he was once our richest man. His name is Ilyas; maybe you have heard of him?" "Certainly I have," said the guest. "I never saw him before, but his fame has been widespread."

"Now he has nothing at all left, and lives out at service with me; he and his old woman milk the cows." The guest was amazed, clucked with his tongue, shook his head, and said:

"Yes, this shows how fortune turns round like a wheel, he who is on top gets to the bottom. Well, I suppose the old man feels pretty bad about it?"

"Who can tell about him? He lives quietly, peacefully; works well."

The guest said:

"May I have a talk with him? I should like to ask him about his life."

"Well, you can,' says the khozyaïn, and shouts toward the kibitka, "Babar,1 come in; bring some kumys, and call your old woman.'

So Ilyas came with his wife. He greeted the guests and his master, repeated a prayer, and squatted down by the door. But his wife went behind the curtain, and sat with her mistress.

Ilyas was given a cup of kumys. Ilyas wished the health of the guests and of his master, bowed, sipped a little, and set it down.

"Well, dyedushka," says the guest, "I suppose you feel rather blue looking at us, to remember your past life, how you used to be in luck, and how now your life is spent in sorrow?"

And Ilyas smiled and said:

"If I told you about my fortune and misfortune, you would not believe me. Better ask my wife. She is a woman, what's in her heart's on her tongue also. She will tell you the whole truth about this matter."

And the guest spoke to her behind the curtain: "Well, now, babushka, tell us what you think about your former luck, and your present misfortune."

1 Babai, signifies dyedushka, little grandfather, in Bashkirian. - AU THOR'S NOTE IN TEXT.

And Sham-Shemagi spoke from behind the curtain :"This is what I think about it: my old man and I have lived fifty years. We sought for happiness, and did not find it; and now here it is two years since we lost everything, and have been living out at service; and we have found real happiness, and ask for nothing better."

The guests were amazed; and the khozyain was amazed, and even rose from his seat, lifted the curtain to look at the old woman; and the old woman was standing, with folded arms. She smiled as she looked at her old man, and the old man smiled back.

The old woman went on :

"I am speaking the truth, not jesting. We sought for happiness for half a century, and as long as we were rich we did not find it; but now that we have nothing left, and have to go out to service, we have found such happiness that we ask for nothing better."

"But wherein consists your happiness now?" "Well, in this: while we were rich, my old man and I never had an hour's rest. We never had time to talk, nor to think about our souls, nor to pray to God. There was nothing for us but care. When we had guests, it was a bother how to treat them, what to give them, so that they might not talk ill about us. Then, when guests went away, we had to look after our workpeople; they would have to rest, they would have to be furnished with enough to eat, and we would have to see to it that nothing that was ours got lost. So we sinned. Then, again, there was worry lest the wolf should kill a colt or a calf, or lest thieves should drive off our horses. We would lie down to sleep, but could not sleep for fear the sheep should trample the lambs. We would go out, we would walk in the night; and at last, when we would get ourselves calmed down, then, again, there would be anxiety about getting food for the winter. Besides this, my old man and I never agreed. He would say we must do so, and I would say we must do so; and we would begin to quarrel; so we sinned. So we lived in worry and care, in worry and care, and never knew the happiness of life."

"Well, and now?"

'Now, when my old man and I get up in the morning, we always have a talk, in love and sympathy, we have nothing to quarrel about, nothing to worry about; our only care is to serve our khozyaïn. We work according to our strength, we work willingly, so that our khozyaïn may not lose, but gain. When we come in, we have dinner, we have supper, we have kumys. If it is cold, we have our kizyak1 to warm us, and a sheepskin shuba. And we have time to talk and think about our souls, and to pray to God. For fifty years we sought for happiness, and only now we have found it!"

The guests began to laugh.

But Ilyas said:

"Don't laugh, brothers; this thing is no jest, but human life. And the old woman and I were foolish when we wept over the loss of our property, but now God has revealed the truth to us; and it is not for our own consolation, but for your good, that we reveal it to you."

"This is a wise saying, and Ilyas has told the exact truth; and this is written also in the Scriptures."

And the guests ceased laughing, and were lost in thought.

1 Kizyak or tizyak, a Tartar word meaning a brick made of dried dung.

THE THREE HERMITS

(1886)

"But when ye pray, use not vain repetitions, as the heathen do: for they think that they shall be heard for their much speaking.

Be ye not therefore like unto them: for your Father knoweth what things ye have need of, before ye ask him". - MATT. vi. 6, 7.

BISHOP set sail in a ship from the city of Archangelsk to Solovki.1 In the same ship sailed some pilgrims to the saints.

The wind was propitious, the weather was clear, the sea was not rough. The pilgrims, some of whom were lying down, some lunching, some sitting in little groups, conversed together.

The bishop also came on deck and began to walk up and down on the bridge. As he approached the bow, he saw a knot of people crowded together. A little muzhik was pointing his hand at something in the sea, and talking; and the people were listening.

The bishop stood still, and looked where the little muzhik was pointing; nothing was to be seen, except the sea glittering in the sun.

The bishop came closer and began to listen. When the little muzhik saw the bishop, he took off his cap, and stopped speaking. The people also, when they saw the bishop, took off their hats, and paid their respects.

"I

"Don't mind me, brothers," said the bishop. have also come to listen to what you are saying, my good friend."

1 The Slovetsky Monastery, at the mouth of the Dvina River.