"A peasant does not cheat much," grumbled good-looking Osip with a sigh, as if he pitied the peasant.
The dark bricklayer, bending his round-shouldered back over the table, said thickly:
"Sin is like a sort of bog; the farther you go, the more swampy it gets!"
And the master said to them, as if he were making a speech:
"What about me? I go into it because something calls me. Though I don't want to."
After this philosophising they again tried to get the better of one another, but when they had finished their accounts, perspiring and tired from the effort, they went out to the tavern to drink tea, inviting the master to go with them.
On the market-place it was my duty to watch these people, to see that they did not steal nails, or bricks, or boards. Every one of them, in addition to my master's work, held contracts of his own, and would try to steal something for his own work under my very nose. They welcomed me kindly, and Shishlin said:
"Do you remember how you wanted to come into my gang? And look at you now; put over me as chief!"
"Well, well," said Osip banteringly, "keep watch over the river-banks, and may God help you!"
Petr observed in an unfriendly tone: