WITH COUNT TOLSTOI. 95 



a gallon of milk a day, the Count explained, and the 

 foals were allowed to run with them at night. They 

 were milked several times a day, and gave a pint at 

 each milking. 



Inside the aoul the Bashkir woman was plying a 

 dasher in a horse-hide churn of milk. A big jar of kou- 

 miss stood on a table. The Count poured some into a 

 wooden bowl. 



" See how you like it," he said. 



It tasted very much like buttermilk, and betrayed 

 to the palate no suggestion of alcohol. 



" I thought it had to be fermented," I said. 



" It is fermented," returned the Count, " and if a 

 man were to drink enough of it he would feel it go to 

 the head." 



" And so you have been mowing hay. You do not, 

 then, like Mr. Gladstone, confine yourself to one form 

 of manual exertion ? " 



Tolstoi is an admirer of Mr. Gladstone, but freely 

 criticised the motive of that statesman in chopping 

 down trees as compared with his own ideas of why 

 everybody should work. He had nothing to say 

 against Mr. Gladstone felling trees, but thought it 

 would be better were he to ply his ax for less selfish 

 reasons than to exercise his body and maintain his 

 health. Mr. Gladstone should wield his ax, if he pre- 

 fers to chop down trees rather than to dig potatoes 

 or mow hay, not merely for the same reason that an 

 athlete goes to the gymnasium, but to earn his living. 



" Every man," said the novelist, " ought to do 

 enough work each day to pay for the food he eats 

 and the clothes he wears, Unless he does that he is 



