Book 2 Chapter 12 Why the Peasants Flock to Town

"Yes, it is a stupid house," he said, uttering his thought out
aloud.

"Why stupid?" replied the isvostchik, in an offended tone.
"Thanks to it, the people get work; it's not stupid."

"But the work is useless."

"It can't be useless, or why should it be done?" said the
isvostchik. "The people get bread by it."

Nekhludoff was silent, and it would have been difficult to talk
because of the clatter the wheels made.

When they came nearer the prison, and the isvostchik turned off
the paved on to the macadamised road, it became easier to talk,
and he again turned to Nekhludoff.

"And what a lot of these people are flocking to the town
nowadays; it's awful," he said, turning round on the box and
pointing to a party of peasant workmen who were coming towards
them, carrying saws, axes, sheepskins, coats, and bags strapped
to their shoulders.

"More than in other years?" Nekhludoff asked.

"By far. This year every place is crowded, so that it's just
terrible. The employers just fling the workmen about like chaff.
Not a job to be got."

"Why is that?"

"They've increased. There's no room for them."

"Well, what if they have increased? Why do not they stay in the
village?"

"There's nothing for them to do in the village--no land to be
had."

Nekhludoff felt as one does when touching a sore place. It feels
as if the bruised part was always being hit; yet it is only
because the place is sore that the touch is felt.