Oh Lord, have pity upon me through Thy great mercy." And heaving a penitent sigh, he would lift heavenward his stern eyes, grown dim now, devoid of their bright, sparkling glitter.
"Death keeps an eye on me somewhere close by," he said one day morosely, but humbly.

And indeed, it soon felled his big, sturdy body to the ground.
This happened in August, early in the morning.

Foma was sound asleep when suddenly he felt somebody shaking him by the shoulder, and a hoarse voice called at his ear: "Get up." He opened his eyes and saw that his father was seated in a chair near his bed, monotonously repeating in a dull voice: "Get up, get up." The sun had just risen, and its light, falling on Ignat's white linen shirt, had not yet lost its rosy tints.
"It's early," said Foma, stretching himself.
"Well, you'll sleep enough later." Lazily muffling himself in the blanket, Foma asked: "Why do you need me ?" "Get up, dear, will you, please ?" exclaimed Ignat, adding, somewhat offended: "It must be necessary, since I am waking you." When Foma looked closely at his father's face, he noticed that it was gray and weary.
"Are you ill ?" "Slightly." "Shall we send for a doctor ?" "The devil take him!" Ignat waved his hand.

"I am not a young man any longer.

I know it as well without him." "What ?" "Oh, I know it!" said the old man, mysteriously, casting a strange glance around the room.