gerasim returned to moscow just at a time when it was hardest to find work, a short while before christmas, when a man sticks even to a poor job in the expectation of a present. for three weeks the peasant lad had been going about in vain seeking a position.

he stayed with relatives and friends from his village, and although he had not yet suffered great want, it disheartened him that he, a strong young man, should go without work.

gerasim had lived in moscow from early boyhood. when still a mere child, he had gone to work in a brewery as bottle-washer, and later as a lower servant in a house. in the last two years he had been in a merchant’s employ, and would still have held that position, had he not been summoned back to his village for military duty. however, he had not been drafted. it seemed dull to him in the village, he was not used to the country life, so he decided he would rather count the stones in moscow than stay there.

every minute it was getting to be more and more irksome for him to be tramping the streets in idleness. not a stone did he leave unturned in his efforts to secure any sort of work. he plagued all of his acquaintances, he even held up people on the street and asked them if they knew of a situation—all in vain.

finally gerasim could no longer bear being a burden on his people. some of them were annoyed by his coming to them; and others had suffered unpleasantness from their masters on his account. he was altogether at a loss what to do. sometimes he would go a whole day without eating.