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 when, with scythe on the arm, there was time to wipe the heated brow, fill the lungs full, and glance round at the long line of haymakers, and the busy work that had been accomplished in field and forest.

The longer Levin mowed, the more frequently he felt the moments of oblivion, when his hands did not wield the scythe, but the scythe seemed to have a self-conscious body, full of life, and carrying on, as it were by enchantment, a regular and systematic work. These were indeed joyful moments.

It was hard only when he was obliged to interrupt this unconscious activity to think about something, when he had to remove a clod or a clump of wild sorrel. The old man did this easily. When he came to a clod, he changed his motion and now with his heel, now with the end of the scythe, pushed it aside with repeated taps. And while doing this he noticed everything and examined everything that was to be seen. Now he picked a strawberry, and ate it himself or gave it to Levin; now snipped off a twig with the end of the scythe; now he discovered a nest of quail from which the mother was scurrying away, or impaled a snake as if with a spear, and, having shown it to Levin, flung it out of the way.

But for Levin and the young fellow behind him these changes of motion were difficult. When once they got into the swing of work, they could not easily change their movements and at the same time observe what was before them.

Levin did not realize how the time was flying. If he had been asked how long he had been mowing, he would have answered, "Half an hour;" and here it was almost dinner-time.

After they finished one row, the old man drew his attention to some little girls and boys, half concealed by the tall grass, who were coming from all sides, through the tall grass and down the roads, bringing to the haymakers their parcels of bread and rag-stoppered jugs of kvas, which seemed too heavy for their little arms.