"That's impossible for the likes of us," said a sharp-nosed old man. "You say, 'Why do you let the horse get into the corn?' just as if I let it in. Why, I was swinging my scythe, or something of the kind, the livelong day, till the day seemed as long as a year, and so I fell asleep while watching the herd of horses at night, and it got into your oats, and now you're skinning me."
"And you should keep order."
"It's easy for you to talk about order, but it's more than our strength will bear," answered a tall, dark, hairy middleaged man.
"Didn't I tell you to put up a fence?"
"You give us the wood to make it of," said a short, plain-looking peasant. "I was going to put up a fence last year, and you put me to feed vermin in prison for three months. That was the end of that fence."
"What is it he is saying?" asked Nekhludoff, turning to the steward.
"Der ersto Dieb im Dorfe, [The greatest thief in the village] answered the steward in German. "He is caught stealing wood from the forest every year." Then turning to the peasant, he added, "You must learn to respect other people's property."
"Why, don't we respect you?" said an old man. "We are obliged to respect you. Why, you could twist us into a rope; we are in your hands."
"Eh, my friend, it's impossible to do you. It's you who are ever ready to do us," said the steward.
"Do you, indeed. Didn't you smash my jaw for me, and I got nothing for it? No good going to law with the rich, it seems."