Grandfather Polycarp

“Having arrived at the Valkov station, I got out of the tarantas, told them to harness the horses, and walked on ahead along the road. Beyond the outskirts, by a windmill, an old man sat on the roadside embankment. In the sunlight he was weaving lapti. I approached him and started a conversation. He was a peasant from the village of Valki, the father of the old miller—everyone called him Grandfather Polikarp. No one knew how old he was, and he himself didn’t remember. All he would say was that he had been carrying burdens even back when Queen Catherine held the land.”