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Updated: May 16, 2025
"But perhaps you lack a sufficiency of land or souls?" "Not at all. I and my brother own ten thousand desiatins of land, and over a thousand souls." "Curious! I do not understand it. But perhaps the harvest has failed, or you have sickness about, and many of your male peasants have died of it?" "On the contrary, everything is in splendid order, for my brother is the best of managers."
"And what has brought you here?" he asked. "Business, old fellow. Guardianship business. I am a guardian now. I am managing Samanoff's affairs the millionaire, you know. He has softening of the brain, and he's got fifty-four thousand desiatins of land," he said, with peculiar pride, as if he had himself made all these desiatins. "The affairs were terribly neglected.
It's all interwoven and heavy, and has sunk beneath its weight; that must be reaped. You and Taras had better go and see to it to-morrow. Well, friend, from that moment she took to the work and worked so that every one wondered. At that time we rented three desiatins, and by God's help we had a wonderful crop both of oats and rye. I mow and she binds the sheaves, and sometimes we both of us reap.
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