in the sunshine and lowed to go to the meadow.�

Levin gazed admiringly at the cows he knew so intimately to the minutest detail of their condition, and gave orders for them to be driven out into the meadow, and the calves to be let into the paddock. The herdsman ran gaily to get ready for the meadow. The cowherd girls, picking up their petticoats, ran splashing through the mud with bare legs, still white, not yet brown from the sun, waving brush wood in their hands, chasing the calves that frolicked in the mirth of spring.

After admiring the young ones of that year, who were particularly fine—�the early calves were the size of a peasant’s cow, and Pava’s daughter, at three months old, was as big as a yearling—� Levin gave orders for a trough to be brought out