If the number of souls were taken as the basis of distribution, she would receive four shares; but she would never be able to pay four shares of the Communal burdens.

She must therefore receive less than that amount.

When asked how many she will take, she replies with downcast eyes, "As the Mir decides, so be it!" "Then you must take three." "What do you say, little father ?" cries the woman, throwing off suddenly her air of submissive obedience.

"Do you hear that, ye orthodox?
They want to lay upon me three souls! Was such a thing ever heard of?
Since St.Peter's Day my husband has been bedridden--bewitched, it seems, for nothing does him good.

He cannot put a foot to the ground--all the same as if he were dead; only he eats bread!" "You talk nonsense," says a neighbour; "he was in the kabak [gin-shop] last week." "And you!" retorts the woman, wandering from the subject in hand; "what did YOU do last parish fete?
Was it not you who got drunk and beat your wife till she roused the whole village with her shrieking?
And no further gone than last Sunday--pfu!" "Listen!" says the old man, sternly cutting short the torrent of invective.