estimate; he took more work than he could get through, and when
calculating he was agitated, lost his head, and so was almost always
out of pocket over his jobs. He undertook painting, glazing,
paperhanging, and even tiling roofs, and I can remember his running
about for three days to find tilers for the sake of a paltry job.
He was a first-rate workman; he sometimes earned as much as ten
roubles a day; and if it had not been for the desire at all costs
to be a master, and to be called a contractor, he would probably
have had plenty of money.

He was paid by the job, but he paid me and the other workmen by the
day, from one and twopence to two shillings a day. When it was fine
and dry we did all kinds of outside work, chiefly painting roofs.
When I was new to the work it made my feet burn as though I were
walking on hot bricks, and when I put on felt boots they were hotter
than ever. But this was only at first; later on I got used to it,
and everything went swimmingly. I was living now among people to
whom labour was obligatory, inevitable, and who worked like
cart-horses, often with no idea of the moral significance of labour,
and, indeed, never using the word "labour" in conversation at all.
Beside them I, too, felt like a cart-horse, growing more and more
imbued with the feeling of the obligatory and inevitable character
of what I was doing, and this made my life easier, setting me free
from all doubt and uncertainty.

At first everything interested me, everything was new, as though I
had been born again. I could sleep on the ground and go about
barefoot, and that was extremely pleasant; I could stand in a crowd
of the common people and be no constraint to anyone, and when a cab
horse fell down in the street I ran to help it up without being