I'll make myself a wreath first; there will be time enough for my reaping afterward.' Well, I began plucking the corn-flowers, but they melted away in my hands, and so I could not make myself a wreath. Meanwhile I heard some one come close to me and call: 'Loukeria, Loukeria!' 'Ah!' thought I, 'what a pity; I've not had time enough after all. Never mind, I'll put this moon on my head instead of the corn-flowers.' So I put on the moon, just like a Kokoshnick [*], and immediately I began to shine so brightly that I lighted up the whole field. Presently there came swiftly gliding along the surface of the corn, not Vassily, but Christ himself! How I knew that it was Christ I cannot say. He was not as we see him in Church pictures, but still it was he -- tall, youthful, beardless, all in white, only with a golden girdle. He stretched out his hand to me and said: 'Be not afraid, my chosen spouse, but follow me. In my heavenly kingdom shalt thou lead the choral dance, and sing songs of Paradise.' And I, how closely did I cling to his hand! The dog was following at my heels, but just then we rose in the air. He was in front -- his wings, long wings like a sea-gull's, spreading over all the heavens -- and I followed after him. So the dog had to stay behind. Then for the first time I understood that the dog was my ailment, and that in the heavenly kingdom there was now no place for it."

Loukeria paused for a while.

"Another time I had a dream," she continued; "or, perhaps it was a revelation; I know not. It seemed to me that I was lying here in this hut, and there came to me my dead parents, my father and my mother. And they bowed low before me, but without uttering a word. And I said to them: 'Wherefore, O my father and my mother, do ye bow down before me?' And they replied: 'Because thou hast suffered much in this world, thou hast not only freed thine own soul, but thou hast also taken from us a heavy burden; and, therefore, have we fared far better in the other world. With thine own sins hast thou already finished thy reckoning. Now dost thou overcome ours also."

"And when they had thus spoken, my parents again rendered me obeisance and disappeared -- there was nothing to be seen but the bare walls. Thereupon I was greatly troubled as to what manner of thing had come to pass. I even made confession of it to the priest. But he was of opinion that it was not a revelation, inasmuch as revelations are made only to clerical personages.

"Here is another dream I have had," continued Loukeria. "I saw myself sitting by the road-side under a willow-tree, holding a staff in my hand, a bag slung across my shoulder, my head wrapped in a kerchief -- just like a pilgrim. And on a pilgrimage, in truth, I had wandered somewhere far, far away. And before me pilgrims kept incessantly passing. Slowly did they move, as though unwillingly, and all in one direction; the faces of all of them were sad, and they all closely resembled one another. And I saw that among them, there kept darting to and fro a female form, a whole head taller than the rest, and her dress was strange, not like ours, not a Russian dress. Her face also was strange, a meager face and stern. All the others seemed to keep aloof from her. Suddenly she turned round and came straight up to me. Then she stopped and looked at me steadfastly. Her eyes were like those of a hawk, yellow, large, and exceedingly clear.