1 You put in too much at a time, Fyodor.
2 Fyodor says that Kirillov lives for his belly.
3 "Here, bring the light, Fyodor, this way," said Levin, examining the calf.
4 Levin, going up to the machine, moved Fyodor aside, and began feeding the corn in himself.
5 Fyodor came from a village at some distance from the one in which Levin had once allotted land to his cooperative association.
6 Fyodor, black with the dust that clung to his moist face, shouted something in response, but still went on doing it as Levin did not want him to.
7 Levin talked to Fyodor about this land and asked whether Platon, a well-to-do peasant of good character belonging to the same village, would not take the land for the coming year.
8 The little old box-keeper, recognizing Vronsky as he helped him off with his fur coat, called him "Your Excellency," and suggested he should not take a number but should simply call Fyodor.
9 A distant part of the estate, a tract of waste land that had lain fallow for eight years, was with the help of the clever carpenter, Fyodor Ryezunov, taken by six families of peasants on new conditions of partnership, and the peasant Shuraev took the management of all the vegetable gardens on the same terms.
10 And suddenly he recalled how they used to go to bed together as children, and how they only waited till Fyodor Bogdanitch was out of the room to fling pillows at each other and laugh, laugh irrepressibly, so that even their awe of Fyodor Bogdanitch could not check the effervescing, overbrimming sense of life and happiness.