"Very true, your excellency. You don't want to do us an injury, but there's no one to take care of the house; for while I and the old woman are doing the enforced labor, the boy, though he's so young, is a great help, driving the cattle and watering the horses. Whatever he is, he's a true muzhík;" and Churis, with a smile, took the lad's nose between his fat fingers, and deftly removed the mucus.
"Nevertheless, you must send him to school, for now you are at home, and he has plenty of time,—do you hear? Don't you fail."
Churis sighed deeply, and made no reply.
V.
"There's one other thing I wished to speak to you about," said Nekhliudof. "Why don't you haul out your manure?"
"What manure, sir,[14] your excellency? There isn't any to haul out. What cattle have I got? One mare and colt; and last autumn I sold my heifer to the porter,—that's all the cattle I've got."
"I know you haven't much, but why did you sell your heifer?" asked the bárin in amazement.
"What have I got to feed her on?"
"Didn't you have some straw for feeding the cow? The others did."
"The others have their fields manured, but my land's all clay. I can't do any thing with it."