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 lived. All the eldest had died in childhood. Martuin at first intended to send his little son to his sister in the village, but afterwards he felt sorry for him: he thought to himself, “It will be hard for my Kapitoshka to live in a strange family. I shall keep him with me.”

And Avdyéitch left his master, and went into lodgings with his little son. But, through God’s will, Avdyéitch had no luck with children. As Kapitoshka grew older, he began to help his father, and would have been a delight to him, but fell sick, went to bed, suffered a week, and died. Martuin buried his son, and fell into despair. So deep was this despair, that he began to complain of God. Martuin fell into such a melancholy state, that more than once he prayed to God for death, and reproached God because he did not take away him who was an old man, instead of his beloved only son. Avdyéitch also ceased to go to church.

And once a little old man, a fellow-countryman, came from Troïtsa (Trinity) to see Avdyéitch: for seven years he had been absent. Avdyéitch talked with him, and began to complain about his sorrows.

“I have no more desire to live,” he said: “I only wish I was dead. That is all I pray God for. I am a man without any thing to hope for now.”

And the little old man said to him,—

“You don’t talk right, Martuin: we must not judge God’s doings. The world moves, not by your skill, but by God’s will. God decreed for your son to die,—for you—to live. Consequently, it is for the best. And you are in despair, because you wish to live for your own happiness.”

“But what shall one live for?” asked Martuin.

And the little old man said, “We must live for God, Martuin. He gives you life, and for his sake you