"Listen to the humpback running on! Oh Lord!" The slater caused no little laughter. His high cheek-boned face wore a sleepy expression, and he used to talk as if he were raving, his honeyed phrases flowing in an intoxicating stream which obviously went to the women's heads. At length one of the elder ones said to her friend in a tone of amazement:
"Just listen to how that man is going on! A clean young fellow he is!"
"He sings like a bird."
"Or like a beggar in the church porch," said an obstinate girl, refusing to give way.
But Ephimushka was not like a beggar at all. He stood firmly, like a squat tree-trunk; his voice rang out like a challenge; his words became more and more alluring; the women listened to him in silence. In fact, it seemed as if his whole being was flowing away in a tender, narcotic speech.
It ended in his saying to his mates in a tone of astonishment at supper-time, or after the Sabbath rest, shaking his heavy, angular head:
"Well, what a sweet little woman, a dear little thing! I have never before come across anything like her!"
When he spoke of his conquests Ephimushka was not boastful, nor jeered at the victim of his charms, as the others always did. He was only joyfully and gratefully touched, his gray eyes wide open with astonishment.
Osip, shaking his head, exclaimed:
"Oh, you incorrigible fellow! How old are you?" "Forty-four years, but that's nothing! I have grown five years younger to-day, as if I had bathed in the healing water of a river. I feel thoroughly fit, and my heart is at peace! Some women can produce that effect, eh?"