Yudushka looks at Foka, but Foka does not stir.
"You are very proud, that's why you have no luck. Take me, for example. The Lord has blessed me, and the Czar has distinguished me. But I am not proud. How can I be? What am I but a worm, a moth, a nothing. God took and blessed me for my humility. He loaded me with favors, and put it into the Czar's mind to favor me, too."
"Porfiry Vladimirych, I think that under serfdom we were far better off," Foka remarks, playing the flatterer.
"Yes, brother, those were fine days for you peasants. You had plenty of everything, corn and hay and potatoes. But why recall the old times? I am not rancorous. I have long forgotten about the harvesters. I only mentioned them in passing. Let me see—did you say you needed corn?"
"Yes, I did, sir."
"You have come to buy some, have you?"
"How can I? I should like to borrow some until the new corn comes."
"My, my! Corn is not to be had for money nowadays. I really don't know what to do with you."
Porfiry Vladimirych ponders for a while, as if really perplexed.
"I can lend you some corn, my friend," he finally says. "I have none for sale, for I loathe to traffic in God's gifts. But I will gladly lend you some corn. To-day I'll lend to you, to-morrow you'll lend to me. To-day I have plenty. Take some, help yourself. You want a measure of corn? Take a measure. You want half a measure? Take half a measure. Tomorrow may find me knocking at your window saying, 'Dear Foka, lend me half a measure of corn, I have nothing to eat.'"