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More Tales from Tolstoi Dina seized him, and began to fumble about his sleeves to see if she could find a place wherein to stuff some pancakes. He took the pancakes.

"Thanks, my wise little woman," said he; "who will make dolls for thee when I am gone, I wonder?" And he stroked her head.

How bitterly Dina wept! Finally she covered her face with her hands and ran away up the mountain like a wild kid. The clattering of the coins in the long tresses of hair hanging down her back was audible in the darkness.

Zhilin crossed himself, seized the lock of the kolodka so as not to stumble as he went, and hobbled along the road, gazing constantly at the reflection of light where the moon was rising. He knew the road. He had to go straight on for about eight miles. If only he could get to the forest before the moon had quite risen! He crossed the stream—the light behind the mountain was growing brighter. He passed through the gully. On he went, glancing upwards from time to time—still the moon was not visible. The burning reflection was increasing, and everything on one side of the gully was growing brighter and brighter. A shadow was creeping along the mountain and coming nearer and nearer to him.

Zhilin went on and on, and the shadows still continued to advance. He hastened on, and the moon was working her way out even more quickly than he had anticipated, to the right the tops of the trees were already lit up. He was now close to the forest when the moon burst forth from behind the mountain—everything was as light and bright as if it were