Анна Кареніна

Chapter 13

           

           “Why,it’saspringsuchastheoldmendon’trememberthelikeof.Iwasuphome;anoldmanuptherehassownwheattoo,aboutanacreofit.Hewassayingyouwouldn’tknowitfromrye.”

           “Haveyoubeensowingwheatlong?”

           “Why,sir,itwasyoutaughtustheyearbeforelast.Yougavemetwomeasures.Wesoldabouteightbushelsandsowedarood.”

           “Well,mindyoucrumbleuptheclods,”saidLevin,goingtowardshishorse,“andkeepaneyeonMishka.Andifthere’sagoodcropyoushallhavehalfaroubleforeveryacre.”

           “Humblythankful.Weareverywellcontent,sir,asitis.”

           Levingotonhishorseandrodetowardsthefieldwherewaslastyear’sclover,andtheonewhichwasploughedreadyforthespringcorn.

           Thecropofclovercomingupinthestubblewasmagnificent.Ithadsurvivedeverything,andstoodupvividlygreenthroughthebrokenstalksoflastyear’swheat.Thehorsesankinuptothepasterns,andhedreweachhoofwithasuckingsoundoutofthehalf-thawedground.Overtheploughlandridingwasutterlyimpossible;thehorsecouldonlykeepafootholdwheretherewasice,andinthethawingfurrowshesankdeepinateachstep.Theploughlandwasinsplendidcondition;inacoupleofdaysitwouldbefitforharrowingandsowing.Everythingwascapital,everythingwascheering.Levinrodebackacrossthestreams,hopingthewaterwouldhavegonedown.Andhedidinfactgetacross,andstartledtwoducks.“Theremustbesnipetoo,”hethought,andjustashereachedtheturninghomewardshemettheforestkeeper,whoconfirmedhistheoryaboutthesnipe

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