Levin had more than once already tried a way he knew for stifling his anger, and turning all that seemed dark right again, and he tried that way now.

He watched how Mishka strode along, swinging the huge clods of earth that clung to each foot; and getting off his horse, he took the sieve from Vassily and started sowing himself.

"Where did you stop?" Vassily pointed to the mark with his foot, and Levin went forward as best he could, scattering the seed on the land.

Walking was as difficult as on a bog, and by the time Levin had ended the row he was in a great heat, and he stopped and gave up the sieve to Vassily.