Easy as it was to mow the wet, soft grass, it was hard work going

up and down the steep sides of the ravine. But this did not

trouble the old man. Swinging his scythe just as ever, and

moving his feet in their big, plaited shoes with firm, little

steps, he climbed slowly up the steep place, and though his

breeches hanging out below his smock, and his whole frame

trembled with effort, he did not miss one blade of grass or one

mushroom on his way, and kept making jokes with the peasants and

Levin. Levin walked after him and often thought he must fall, as

he climbed with a scythe up a steep cliff where it would have

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been hard work to clamber without anything. But he climbed up

and did what he had to do. He felt as though some external force

were moving him.




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