When Gregory Shevchenko—for this was the father’s name—was on his
deathbed, he called his family around him and gave his parting
bequests. A serf might not, indeed, sell any of his household goods
without permission of his landlord, but he could give them to his
relatives who, of course, were the property of the same landlord. So
Gregory Shevchenko distributed his pitiful treasures to the children
and to his wife,—saying finally—
“To my son, Taras, I give nothing. He will be no common man. Either he
will be something very good or else a great rascal. For him the
patrimony will either mean nothing, or will not help any.”