Everything seemed to be saying to man: 'Rest, brother of ours; breathe lightly, and grieve not, thou too, at the sleep close before thee. I raised my head and saw at the very end of a delicate twig one of those large flies with emerald head, long body, and four transparent wings, which the fanciful French call 'maidens, while our guileless people has named them 'bucket-yokes. For a long while, more than an hour, I did not take my eyes off her.
"People will not buy sabots nor bucket-yokes." "They need food before sabots," remarked the old man. "But I too must have food. Are we never to have good bread again? Three years ago we had good bread." "This barley, half eaten away, produces more bran than flour," said the old man, trembling with weakness.