BOOK TWELVE: 1812
12. CHAPTER XII
 (continued)
"Well, lad," and a smile changed the tone of his voice "we thought
 it was a misfortune but it turned out a blessing! If it had not been
 for my sin, my brother would have had to go as a soldier. But he, my
 younger brother, had five little ones, while I, you see, only left a
 wife behind. We had a little girl, but God took her before I went as a
 soldier. I come home on leave and I'll tell you how it was, I look and
 see that they are living better than before. The yard full of
 cattle, the women at home, two brothers away earning wages, and only
 Michael the youngest, at home. Father, he says, 'All my children are
 the same to me: it hurts the same whichever finger gets bitten. But if
 Platon hadn't been shaved for a soldier, Michael would have had to
 go.' called us all to him and, will you believe it, placed us in front
 of the icons. 'Michael,' he says, 'come here and bow down to his feet;
 and you, young woman, you bow down too; and you, grandchildren, also
 bow down before him! Do you understand?' he says. That's how it is,
 dear fellow. Fate looks for a head. But we are always judging, 'that's
 not well- that's not right!' Our luck is like water in a dragnet:
 you pull at it and it bulges, but when you've drawn it out it's empty!
 That's how it is." 
And Platon shifted his seat on the straw. 
After a short silence he rose. 
"Well, I think you must be sleepy," said he, and began rapidly
 crossing himself and repeating: 
"Lord Jesus Christ, holy Saint Nicholas, Frola and Lavra! Lord Jesus
 Christ, holy Saint Nicholas, Frola and Lavra! Lord Jesus Christ,
 have mercy on us and save us!" he concluded, then bowed to the ground,
 got up, sighed, and sat down again on his heap of straw. "That's the
 way. Lay me down like a stone, O God, and raise me up like a loaf," he
 muttered as he lay down, pulling his coat over him. 
"What prayer was that you were saying?" asked Pierre. 
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