Anna Karenina

parts trampled and checkered with furrows, in parts dotted with ridges of
dung, and in parts even ploughed. A string of carts was moving across it.
Levin counted the carts, and was pleased that all that were wanted had been
brought, and at the sight of the meadows his thoughts passed to the
mowing. He always felt something special moving him to the quick at the
hay-making. On reaching the meadow Levin stopped the horse.
The morning dew was still lying on the thick undergrowth of the grass, and
that he might not get his feet wet, Sergey Ivanovitch asked his brother to
drive him in the trap up to the willow tree from which the carp was caught.
Sorry as Konstantin Levin was to crush down his mowing grass, he drove
him into the meadow. The high grass softly turned about the wheels and the
horse's legs, leaving its seeds clinging to the wet axles and spokes of the
wheels. His brother seated himself under a bush, arranging his tackle, while
Levin led the horse away, fastened him up, and walked into the vast
gray-green sea of grass unstirred by the wind. The silky grass with its ripe
seeds came almost to his waist in the dampest spots.
Crossing the meadow, Konstantin Levin came out onto the road, and met
an old man with a swollen eye, carrying a skep on his shoulder.
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"What? taken a stray swarm, Fomitch?" he asked.
"No, indeed, Konstantin Mitritch! All we can do to keep our own! This is
the second swarm that has flown away.... Luckily the lads caught them.
They were ploughing your field. They unyoked the horses and galloped
after them."
"Well, what do you say, Fomitch--start mowing or wait a bit?"
"Eh, well. Our way's to wait till St. Peter's Day. But you always mow
sooner. Well, to be sure, please God, the hay's good. There'll be plenty for
the beasts."
"What do you think about the weather?"
"That's in God's hands. Maybe it will be fine."
Levin went up to his brother.
Sergey Ivanovitch had caught nothing, but he was not bored, and seemed in
the most cheerful frame of mind. Levin saw that, stimulated by his
conversation with the doctor, he wanted to talk. Levin, on the other hand,
would have liked to get home as soon as possible to give orders about
getting together the mowers for next day, and to set at rest his doubts about
the mowing, which greatly absorbed him.
"Well, let's be going," he said.
"Why be in such a hurry? Let's stay a little. But how wet you are! Even
though one catches nothing, it's nice. That's the best thing about every part
of sport, that one has to do with nature. How exquisite this steely water is!"
said Sergey Ivanovitch. "These riverside banks always remind me of the
riddle--do you know it? 'The grass says to the water: we quiver and we
quiver.'"
"I don't know the riddle," answered Levin wearily.
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