And when he had begun to reckon, one was brought unto him, which owed him ten thousand talents.

But forasmuch as he had not to pay, his lord commanded him to be sold, and his wife, and children, and all that he had, and payment to be made.

The servant therefore fell down, and worshipped him, saying, Lord, have patience with me, and I will pay thee all.

Then the lord of that servant was moved with compa.s.sion, and loosed him, and forgave him the debt.

But the same servant went out, and found one of his fellowservants, which owed him an hundred pence: and he laid hands on him, and took him by the throat, saying, Pay me that thou owest.

And his fellowservant fell down at his feet, and besought him, saying, Have patience with me, and I will pay thee all.

And he would not: but went and cast him into prison, till he should pay the debt.

So when his fellowservants saw what was done, they were very sorry, and came and told unto their lord all that was done.

Then his lord, after that he had called him, said unto him, O thou wicked servant, I forgave thee all that debt, because thou desiredst me:

Shouldest not thou also have had compa.s.sion on thy fellowservant, even as I had pity on thee?

And his lord was wroth, and delivered him to the tormentors, till he should pay all that was due unto him.

So likewise shall my heavenly Father do also unto you, if ye from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their trespa.s.ses.

(Matt. xviii. 21-35.)

There lived in a village a peasant, by the name of Ivan Shcherbakov. He lived well; he was himself in full strength, the first worker in the village, and he had three sons,--all of them on their legs: one was married, the second about to marry, and the third a grown-up lad who drove horses and was beginning to plough. Ivan's wife was a clever woman and a good housekeeper, and his daughter-in-law turned out to be a quiet person and a good worker. There was no reason why Ivan should not have led a good life with his family. The only idle mouth on the farm was his old, ailing father (he had been lying on the oven for seven years, sick with the asthma).

Ivan had plenty of everything, three horses and a colt, a cow and a yearling calf, and fifteen sheep. The women made the shoes and the clothes for the men and worked in the field; the men worked on their farms.

They had enough grain until the next crop. From the oats they paid their taxes and met all their obligations. An easy life, indeed, might Ivan have led with his children. But next door to him he had a neighbour, Gavrilo the Lame, Gordyey Ivanov's son. And there was an enmity between him and Ivan.

So long as old man Gordyey was alive, and Ivan's father ran the farm, the peasants lived in neighbourly fashion. If the women needed a sieve or a vat, or the men had to get another axle or wheel for a time, they sent from one farm to another, and helped each other out in a neighbourly way. If a calf ran into the yard of the threshing-floor, they drove it out and only said: "Don't let it out, for the heap has not yet been put away." And it was not their custom to put it away and lock it up in the threshing-floor or in a shed, or to revile each other.

Thus they lived so long as the old men were alive. But when the young people began to farm, things went quite differently.

The whole thing began from a mere nothing. A hen of Ivan's daughter-in-law started laying early. The young woman gathered the eggs for Pa.s.sion week. Every day she went to the shed to pick up an egg from the wagon-box. But, it seems, the boys scared away the hen, and she flew across the wicker fence to the neighbour's yard, and laid an egg there.

The young woman heard the hen cackle, so she thought:

"I have no time now, I must get the hut in order for the holiday; I will go there later to get it."

In the evening she went to the wagon-box under the shed, to fetch the egg, but it was not there. The young woman asked her mother-in-law and her brother-in-law if they had taken it; but Taraska, her youngest brother-in-law, said:

"Your hen laid an egg in the neighbour's yard, for she cackled there and flew out from that yard."

The young woman went to look at her hen, and found her sitting with the c.o.c.k on the perch; she had closed her eyes and was getting ready to sleep. The woman would have liked to ask her where she laid the egg, but she would not have given her any answer. Then the young woman went to her neighbour. The old woman met her.

"What do you want, young woman?"

"Granny, my hen has been in your yard to-day,--did she not lay an egg there?"

"I have not set eyes on her. We have hens of our own, thank G.o.d, and they have been laying for quite awhile. We have gathered our own eggs, and we do not need other people's eggs. Young woman, we do not go to other people's yards to gather eggs."

The young woman was offended. She said a word too much, the neighbour answered with two, and the women began to scold. Ivan's wife was carrying water, and she, too, took a hand in it. Gavrilo's wife jumped out, and began to rebuke her neighbour. She reminded her of things that had happened, and mentioned things that had not happened at all. And the tongue-lashing began. All yelled together, trying to say two words at the same time. And they used bad words.

"You are such and such a one; you are a thief, a sneak; you are simply starving your father-in-law; you are a tramp."

"And you are a beggar: you have torn my sieve; and you have our shoulder-yoke. Give me back the yoke!"

They grabbed the yoke, spilled the water, tore off their kerchiefs, and began to fight. Gavrilo drove up from the field, and he took his wife's part. Ivan jumped out with his son, and they all fell in a heap. Ivan was a st.u.r.dy peasant, and he scattered them all. He yanked out a piece of Gavrilo's beard. People ran up to them, and they were with difficulty pulled apart.

That's the way it began.

Gavrilo wrapped the piece of his beard in a pet.i.tion and went to the township court to enter a complaint.

"I did not raise a beard for freckled Ivan to pull it out."

In the meantime his wife bragged to the neighbours that they would now get Ivan sentenced and would have him sent to Siberia, and the feud began.

The old man on the oven tried to persuade them to stop the first day they started to quarrel, but the young people paid no attention to him.

He said to them:

"Children, you are doing a foolish thing, and for a foolish thing have you started a feud. Think of it,--the whole affair began from an egg.

The children picked up the egg,--well, G.o.d be with them! There is no profit in one egg. With G.o.d's aid there will be enough for everybody.

Well, you have said a bad word, so correct it, show her how to use better words! Well, you have had a fight,--you are sinful people. That, too, happens. Well, go and make peace, and let there be an end to it! If you keep it up, it will only be worse."

The young people did not obey the old man; they thought that he was not using sense, but just babbling in old man's fashion.

Ivan did not give in to his neighbour.

"I did not pull his beard," he said. "He jerked it out himself; but his son has yanked off my shirt-b.u.t.ton and has torn my whole shirt. Here it is."

And Ivan, too, took the matter to court. The case was heard before a justice of the peace, and in the township court. While they were suing each other, Gavrilo lost a coupling-pin out of his cart. The women in Gavrilo's house accused Ivan's son of having taken it.

"We saw him in the night," they said, "making his way under the window to the cart, and the gossip says that he went to the dram-shop and asked the dram-shopkeeper to take the pin from him."

Again they started a suit. But at home not a day pa.s.sed but that they quarrelled, nay, even fought. The children cursed one another,--they learned this from their elders,--and when the women met at the brook, they did not so much strike the beetles as let loose their tongues, and to no good.

At first the men just accused each other, but later they began to s.n.a.t.c.h up things that lay about loose. And they taught the women and children to do the same. Their life grew worse and worse. Ivan Shcherbakov and Gavrilo the Lame kept suing one another at the meetings of the Commune, and in the township court, and before the justices of the peace, and all the judges were tired of them. Now Gavrilo got Ivan to pay a fine, or he sent him to the lockup, and now Ivan did the same to Gavrilo. And the more they did each other harm, the more furious they grew. When dogs make for each other, they get more enraged the more they fight. You strike a dog from behind, and he thinks that the other dog is biting him, and gets only madder than ever. Just so it was with these peasants: when they went to court, one or the other was punished, either by being made to pay a fine, or by being thrown into prison, and that only made their rage flame up more and more toward one another.

"Just wait, I will pay you back for it!"

And thus it went on for six years. The old man on the oven kept repeating the same advice. He would say to them:

"What are you doing, my children? Drop all your accounts, stick to your work, don't show such malice toward others, and it will be better. The more you rage, the worse will it be."

They paid no attention to the old man.

In the seventh year the matter went so far that Ivan's daughter-in-law at a wedding accused Gavrilo before people of having been caught with horses. Gavrilo was drunk, and he did not hold back his anger, but struck the woman and hurt her so that she lay sick for a week, for she was heavy with child. Ivan rejoiced, and went with a pet.i.tion to the prosecuting magistrate.