Men won't go against themselves." And with the firm conviction of a peasant fed on centuries of distrust, he added: "No good will ever come from the masters! Take my word for it!" "What concoction has your brain put together ?" the mother asked, again seized with anxious misgiving.
"I ?" Rybin looked at her, was silent for a while, then repeated: "Keep away from the masters! That's what!" He grew morosely silent again, and seemed to shrink within himself.
"I'll go away, mother," he said after a pause.

"I wanted to join the fellows, to work along with them.

I'm fit for the work.

I can read and write.

I'm persevering and not a fool.