"I didn't take it," said he. "What are you whacking me for? Let me go!"
Avdyeeich came up and tried to part them. He seized the lad by the arm and said: "Let him go, little mother! Forgive him for Christ's sake!"
"I'll forgive him so that he shan't forget the taste of fresh birch-rods. I mean to take the rascal to the police station." Avdyeeich began to entreat with the old woman.
"Let him go, little mother; he will not do so any more. Let him go for
Christ's sake."
The old woman let him go. The lad would have bolted, but Avdyeeich held him fast.
"Beg the little mother's pardon," said he, "and don't do such things any more. I saw thee take them."
Then the lad began to cry and beg pardon.
"Well, that's all right! And now, there's an apple for thee." And Avdyeeich took one out of the basket and gave it to the boy. "I'll pay thee for it, little mother," he said to the old woman.
"Thou wilt ruin them that way, the blackguards," said the old woman. "If I had the rewarding of him, he should not be able to sit down for a week."
"Oh, little mother, little mother!" cried Avdyeeich, "that is our way of looking at things, but it is not God's way. If we ought to be whipped so for the sake of one apple, what do we deserve for our sins!"