“Good day to you, Nikolai Eremyitch.”
“Well, what are the roads like?”
“Pretty fair, Nikolai Eremyitch. A bit muddy.” The peasant spoke slowly and not loud.
“Wife quite well?”
“She’s all right!”
The peasant gave a sigh and shifted one leg forward. Nikolai Eremyitch put his pen behind his ear, and blew his nose.
“Well, what have you come about?” he proceeded to inquire, putting his check handkerchief into his pocket.
“Why, they do say, Nikolai Eremyitch, they’re asking for carpenters from us.”
“Well, aren’t there any among you, hey?”
“To be sure there are, Nikolai Eremyitch; our place is right in the woods; our earnings are all from the wood, to be sure. But it’s the busy time, Nikolai Eremyitch. Where’s the time to come from?”