Ignaty drew a deep breath, raised his head, smiled satirically, and closing his eyes said with a scowl:
"Here it says: 'The peasant has ceased to be a human being.' Of course he has." Over his simple, open face glided a shadow of offense. "Well, try to wear my skin for a day or so, and turn around in it, and then we'll see what you'll be like, you wiseacre, you!"
"I'm going to lie down," said the mother quietly. "I got tired, after all. My head is going around. And you?" she asked Sofya.
"I don't want to."
The mother stretched herself on the board and soon fell asleep. Sofya sat over her looking at the people reading. When the bees buzzed about the mother's face, she solicitously drove them away.
"Is she asleep?"
"Yes."
He was silent for a moment, looked fixedly at the calm sleeping face, and said softly:
"She is probably the first mother who has followed in the footsteps of her son—the first."