FOR A MILESTONE. Prost. Express. 1. At a considerable distance. I wrote to you how we greedily rushed to the shore to warm ourselves with the hot breath of the earth, how we reveled in the fragrance of flowers blowing from the shore a mile away.(Goncharov. Frigate "Pallada"). To top it all, it seemed to him that his last name was not sufficiently distinguished among others, and he forced Nastya to rewrite it with his own capital letters. - Since the best plowman, - he shook his fist, - it is necessary that Lobanov be seen from a mile away(F. Abramov. Brothers and sisters). ON THE VERSE. Obsolete Except for a few willows and two or three skinny birches, you won’t see a tree for a mile around(Turgenev. Khor and Kalinich). 2. From afar. Respected Uncle Styopa For such a height. Uncle Styopa was walking from work - It was visible a mile away(S. Mikhalkov. Uncle Styopa). FOR TWO VERSTS. - Mitin, on the other hand, had a diabolical insight into Katya's mood. For two miles, he smelled - in the spirit, or plucked from all loops(Z. Boguslavskaya. Relatives).
- - noun, number of synonyms: 1 half a verst ...
Synonym dictionary
- - Simple. Shuttle. Walk long distances. He was a long and lean old man, on long and dry legs, with which he daily measured up to fifteen versts, going around the upper, middle and lower part Kyiv...
Phraseological dictionary of the Russian literary language
- - Cm....
- - Cm....
IN AND. Dal. Proverbs of the Russian people
- - Gorky. Predict, foretell. BalSok, 26...
- - Simple. Walk long distances. FSRYA, 242; ZS 1996, 496...
Big Dictionary Russian sayings
- - Zharg. school Jottle-iron. Road to school. /i> By movie title. Maksimov, 284...
Big dictionary of Russian sayings
- - adj., number of synonyms: 1 walking ...
Synonym dictionary
- - ...
Synonym dictionary
"Two miles away" in books
Neither miles, nor years - nothing at all
From the book Kolyma Notebooks the author Shalamov VarlamNeither miles, nor years - nothing at all Neither miles, nor years - nothing at all Can cope with our tradition. Look - the sky is propped up by the Northern Lights. And we will not be crushed by the deaf firmament, It will not collapse over the life of the ravine, It will not be squashed into the biblical patterned ice Hotheads
DIFFICULT VERSTS
From the book Ermak author Skrynnikov Ruslan GrigorievichDIFFICULT MILES Remezov was the first Siberian historian to crouch by the spring folk art. The spring did not dry up after the death of the historian. The remarkable folk poet Kirsha Danilov not only repeated the Cossack legends about Yermak in his songs, but also put them on paper.
fiery miles
From the book Denis Davydov author Serebryakov Gennady ViktorovichFiery versts Do we now slumber in peace, faithful sons of Russia?! Let's go, let's close in military formation, Let's go - and the horrors of war. Friends, fatherland, people Let's find glory and freedom, Or we'll all fall in our native fields! Which is better: life, where are the bonds of captivity, Or death, where are the Russian banners? AT
DISTANCES, VERSTS, MILES
From the book Crossing of Fates author Belkina Maria IosifovnaDISTANCES, MILES, MILES First there were poems, then she herself. The poems stood on the shelves, in bright calico bindings, typewritten, handwritten. There were not so many genuine books by Marina Ivanovna at Tarasenkov's. The main wealth is reprints,
“Distance: versts, miles…”
From the author's book“Distance: versts, miles…” Distance: versts, miles… We were placed, seated, To behave quietly At two different ends of the earth. Distance: versts, distances... We were glued, unsoldered, We were parted in two hands, crucified, And we didn't know that it was a fusion of Inspirations
Versts of one year (1916)
From the book by Marina Tsvetaeva. life and creation author Saakyants Anna AlexandrovnaVICTORIOUS VERTS FORTY-FIVE
From the author's bookVICTORIOUS VERTS FORTY-FIVE
From the book Literary Conversations. Book Two ("Link": 1926-1928) author Adamovich Georgy Viktorovich<Журнал «Версты»>1. "Versts" - a huge volume, published in our times not only beautifully, but even "luxuriously". Editors: Svyatopolk-Mirsky, Suvchinsky, Efron. The closest participants: Tsvetaeva, Remizov, Shestov. Various departments: fiction, criticism, philosophy,
"Versts"*
From the book Publicism 1918-1953 author Bunin Ivan AlekseevichVerst* Another Russian magazine abroad is the first (and enormous) book Verst. I looked it up and got pissed off again. Yes, things are bad with our "new ways". A ridiculous, boring and very bad book. What should a cultured European who is interested in us think of us?
Sun. Rozhdestvensky Review: Marina Tsvetaeva Versts: Poems. Moscow: Bonfires, 1921; Versts: Poems. Moscow: Gosizdat, 1922(59)
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I. Bunin Review: "Versts", No. 1 (112)
From the book Reviews of the works of Marina Tsvetaeva author Tsvetaeva MarinaI. Bunin Review: "Versts", No. 1<Отрывки>(112) Another Russian magazine abroad is the first (and huge) book Verst. I looked it up and got pissed off again. Yes, things are bad with our "new ways". A ridiculous, boring and very bad book. What should a cultured person think of us?
V. Zlobin Review: "Versts", No. 1 (117)
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From the book Reviews of the works of Marina Tsvetaeva author Tsvetaeva MarinaN. Kulman Review: "Versts", No. 2<Отрывок>{122} <…>The book is varied and interesting. The tragedy "Theseus" by M. Tsvetaeva is full of sound brilliance, rich in fresh, not worn out images. But M. Tsvetaeva has an evil genius - mannerisms, simpering and even rude
V. Veidle Review: "Versts", No. 3 (128)
From the book Reviews of the works of Marina Tsvetaeva author Tsvetaeva MarinaV. Veidle Rec.: "Versts", No. 3<Отрывок>{128} <…>There is one more reason not to believe the love of Prince. Svyatopolk-Mirsky to Pasternak - this is his well-known predilection for the poems of Marina Tsvetaeva. Two poems by this poetess (I deliberately do not say the poet, because these poems are
Striped miles of Russia
From the book Literaturnaya Gazeta 6263 (No. 59 2010) author Literary NewspaperStriped miles of Russia Art Striped miles of Russia TIME TRAVEL TO State Museum A.S. Pushkin on Prechistenka, a new large-scale exhibition "From the Western Seas to the Gates of the Eastern" was launched - Russia of Pushkin's time in engravings and maps, in
Russian language assignment do it in rows: Row 1 - option 1, second row - option 2, third row - option 3. Do not jump in the rows :), remember how you sit in my lessons.
ONE DAY is given to complete the task, because in a real learning situation you would have 40 minutes to complete it. Means, by the evening of Tuesday 19 February you should all send me your work.
Job evaluation carried out by points(See in your options for the scoring). Taken into account not only knowledge of the topic "Homogeneous members of the proposal", but also simple literacy. Therefore, before submitting, check your work several times. Resend with corrections it is forbidden.
Since not all of you can use the capabilities of a word processor Microsoft Word (e.g. insert a character, underline, highlight
), then I propose to do the work - neat, legible, large- on a sheet, then take a picture or scan and send it to me as a document in PDF format or just like a regular photo. The photo must be clear and easy to read.
Job Rating:
"5" - 19 - 20 points (95 - 100% of work done)
"4" - 14 - 18 points (66 - 94% completion)
"3" - 10 - 13 points (50 - 65% completion)
"2" - 9 points or less (less than 50% completion)
I option.
1. Make sentence schemes: (2 points)
1) In the distance, the cuckoo cuckooed, and the midge was silently circling around.
2) The world is filled with the smell of pine, the sun and the singing of the lark.
2. Come up with and write down sentences according to the schemes: (2 points)
1)
[ ABOUT. sl :O O, O—….];2) [Oh oh O - OB.sl
].3. Write down sentences, place punctuation marks with homogeneous members.
(6 points)
1) Both summer and autumn were rainy.
2) He is blind, stubborn, impatient and frivolous and arrogant.
3) We found leaves in the pockets of our raincoats with caps in our hair.
4) Fogs in London happen, if not every day, then every other day without fail.
5) The air and water and trees and even cabbage tops already smell of this snow.
6) Either memories or dreams wandered in Olenin's head.
4. Find sentences with punctuation errors. Write down the corrected version. (2 points)
1) Sports, music, reading books have always fascinated me.
2) And the stars suddenly flashed in the fog and poured their cold light under the lindens.
3) Both the forest and the fields were all covered with snow.
4) Trees planted by caring hands: poplar, acacia, and also wild-growing maple greened friendly and fresh.
5. From a pair of sentences, make and write down one sentence with homogeneous members. (3 points)
1) Zhur..vli kr..chali anxiously. Zhur..vli shouted so..sklivo.
2) The wind rips off the tree..rev..ev sheet..i. The wind howls at night in the pipes.
3) Autumn splits the forest. Autumn is cold in..du.
6. Write down the text, punctuating and inserting the necessary spelling.
(5 points)
Some peoples of the North have, for example, dozens of words for designating the same phenomena for naming different types of snow ice for designating cold. In the language of one of the tribes living ..x on the islands of Oceania, there are a hundred n..titles for different .. species of banana. At the same time, some .. tribes .. on n.. call in one word all l.. melting objects, and in Swahili, in one word they designate both a train and a cart and a carriage and a pram and a bicycle.
II option.
1. Draw up proposal schemes: (2 points)
1) Tits, starlings, woodpeckers - exterminators of harmful insects.
2) On the ground it is somehow quiet and bare without wheat, and rye, and oats.
2. Come up with and write down sentences according to the schemes: (2 points)
1) [ OB.sl : O, O, O—….];
2) .
3. Write down sentences, place punctuation marks with homogeneous members.
(6 points)
1) For two versts one could hear the slightest sound of barking dogs in remote villages, voices at a neighboring mill, the sound of a board suddenly thrown to the ground.
2) Nekhlyudov looked at the moonlit garden and the roof and at the shade of the poplar and breathed in the life-giving fresh air.
3) The driver smiled and got into the cab and started the engine.
4) The apples were large, juicy and delicious.
5) Gymnastics wiping with cold water all this strengthens and tempers a person.
6) She knew German French and English well and taught her children this.
4. Find sentences with punctuation errors. Write down the corrected version. (2 points)
1) Forests and oak forests, birch forests with picturesque lakes are increasingly attracting citizens.
2) White clouds, a forest that stretched along the sides of the road - everything was pleasing to the eye.
3) In the evenings, grandfather watched: TV or read, or went to the theater, or to play chess with a neighbor.
4) Yellow acacia and lilac, growing in our forests, are ornamental shrubs.
5. From a pair of sentences, make and write down one sentence with homogeneous members. (3 points)
1) The day was sunny. The day was windy. The day was cool.
2) I began to visit museums and theaters. I started reading books.
3) Buran. Blizzard, cold. Bad weather delayed our progress.
6. Write down the text, punctuating and inserting the necessary spelling.
(5 points)
The whole night sh..l warm rain. It began as (something) very quietly without wind, without thunderstorms, without creeping black clouds. The simple sky was slightly dimmed, and after sunset the stars did not light up. There was a damp smell of spruce tar, and large rare drops pounded on the branches of trees. So it always begins (n ..) than (in) noticeable ordinary (n, n) rain. However, everything is quiet, lulling .. the sound of drops falling to the ground, the soft rustle of grass surrounding .. the p..
III option.
1. Draw up proposal schemes: (2 points)
1) Buran twists, throws snow, and whistles, and fills with a terrible howl.
2) The room was small but cozy and well furnished.
2. Come up with and write down sentences according to the schemes: (2 points)
1) [ OB.sl : O, O, O].
Poor Andrey from Yagodnya had already ground his sack of rye a long time ago and left the mill; moreover, of the three wagons that arrived so inopportunely then, only one remained; and yet there was no sign of either Pyotr, who had gone to the village with invitations, or Grishutka, who had gone off to get some wine. The time was approaching evening. The sun was setting, increasing with every minute the purple gleam of the hills and distant groves that looked westward; from the east, meanwhile, blue, cold shadows descended; they ran as if from the sun, quickly filled the hollows and spread wider and wider across the meadows, leaving behind them the top of a willow or a roof, which, at the brilliance of the sunset, burned as if engulfed in flames. The wind did not touch a single faded stem, not a single straw on the roof; but even without the wind, the ears and cheeks were strongly tingled. The transparency of the air and the dazzling clarity of the sunset foreshadowed a decent frost for the night; even now in low-lying places, where the shadow thickened, fallen leaves and grass were covered with gray drizzle. The road rang underfoot. For two or three versts one could, it seems, make out the slightest sound: the barking of dogs in remote villages, voices at a neighboring mill, the noise of a plank suddenly thrown onto the frozen ground. But no matter how hard Savely listened, the rattling of the cart was not heard anywhere: Grishutka did not appear. It was also in vain that the eyes of the old man turned to the valley along which the road wound: and Peter did not appear. After standing for about two minutes at the gate, Savely returned to the yard, looked into the barn, exchanged a few words with the clerk, who was finishing the last cart, and again went into the hut.
His hut was not large, but it was both warm and cozy in it. On the occasion of cooking for the christening, it was even hot in it; but that's nothing; when it freezes in the yard, one feels a special pleasantness to enter a very heated dwelling. The hut was no different from the other huts: to the right of the door was a stove; a wooden partition, separated from the stove by a small door, rested at the other end against the back wall. Two windows illuminated this first half; the windows looked to the west, and the setting sun hit the partition, the stove, and the floor so hard that the light was reflected under the table and benches, leaving here and there only impenetrable patches of shadow. In the back corner, which is called red, although it is usually the darkest, one could see icons, a copper cast cross, the tips of yellow wax candles, and an awkward cup of thick purple glass; all this was located on two shelves, decorated inside with pieces of wallpaper, outside - with a rough but intricate carving; the style of the carving was the same as on the valances that once adorned the church of Yagodnya; it belonged, presumably, to that time and belonged to the same chisel and axe. The rays of the sun, penetrating the small windowpanes with an iridescent tint, gilded the dust, which passed in two parallel stripes through the entire hut, and rested on a pot of water that stood by the stove; above the cast-iron, in the dark, smoky ceiling, a bright spot trembled, which the children call "mouse." A cat and four tabby kittens were playing nearby.
In the second half, behind a partition, opposite the stove, there was a bed covered with straw and covered with felt, on which Peter's wife lay. A cradle hung under her arm, attached to the end of a pole fixed in the ceiling; the baby was lying, however, not in the cradle, but beside the mother. There was also a cupboard with crockery, two trunks, and a wide bench, which Palagea, busy at the stove, filled with loaves, pots, and pies. Behind this partition it was both cramped and stuffy. There was also a window, but Sunshine, meeting many corners and ledges, clinging now to the cradle, now to the edge of the bench, now passing along a row of pies, thickly browned with egg yolk, produced a terrible variegation here; the eye rested only on the upper part of the bed, which was immersed in a soft yellowish half-light, where the head of the puerperal and the baby sleeping beside her rested.
- Ah yes frost! Wraps up nicely! - Savely said, entering the hut and rubbing it with his palms, which resembled the crust of old tree stumps. - If it stays like that for two days, perhaps the river will become ... Ek, they fried it! - he said, turning around the partition, - as if in a bathhouse, really, in a bathhouse! .. Only now the spirit is different: it smells of cakes! her great tenderness), I don’t know what to do with our fellows: oh, now I can’t see it! And it seems like a long time ago...
- Here is something to scatter with the mind! - Palagea smartly fit in, rattling at the same time with her fork, - one must not have found the owners. Came: "At home?" he asks. “Gone,” they say; he sat down to wait for him, or went to look for him ... Another is sitting in a tavern; maybe there are a lot of people - he waits until the kisser releases the others; we know: the guy is small, he won’t shout down the big ones; he came after, but the first took ...
- Well, no, not like that! Shuster, u-u-u-shuster! the old man interrupted, shaking his finger at some imaginary object, “I suppose he won’t let himself be offended, for nothing small!.. That’s not what I’m thinking about at all; I think: the boy is very good, he wouldn’t mess up there ... Well, yes, he’ll come, we’ll ask, we’ll ask ... - he added, as if hushing up his speech and going up to the bed of the puerperal. - Well, my dear son, how can you, huh?
- Nothing, father, God is merciful ...
- All of you ... for example, you don’t listen to me! .. That's what ...
- What is it, father?
- And if you like in that ... you take a lot of work ... by golly! At first, it’s not good like that ... After all, he deliberately made a pitch for a small one. No, you keep him by your side, you keep busy with him; Well, God have mercy, you'll still fall asleep somehow ... How long before trouble!
“I-and, killer whale,” interrupted Palageya, “Christ is with you!” The Lord is merciful, he will not allow such a sin!
- No, it happens! It happens! Savely picked it up in a tone of conviction. “It just happened: the Vyselovsky Martha fell asleep as a child! .. If not this, all the same, another case may come out: she falls asleep, the kittens pick up somehow, the face of the baby, Christ be with him! scratched ... Well, what good! You, women, do not understand in any way! After all, he deliberately made a roll, purposely hung it beside the bed: the baby cried - just stretch out your hand, or, if you can’t handle it, Palagea will give ... Again, now another reasoning: isn’t it easier for him to lie in a cradle than on a bed? .. He, of course, , he won’t say, and everyone sees that it’s calmer in the cradle! On purpose for peace of mind and made ...
The old man leaned over to the baby.
- Aha, father, aha! - he said, shaking his gray hair and somehow wrinkling comically. “Listen, mother-in-law… let me, right… let me put him in the cradle… Well, why is he here? Did you feed him?
- Feeding, father ...
- Well, okay! .. Come on, killer whale, come on! said the old man, raising the child, while both women looked at him silently.
The child was as red as a freshly baked crayfish, and for the time being represented a piece of meat wrapped in white swaddling clothes: nothing was good; for all that, Savely’s wrinkles somehow parted sweetly, his face grinned, and such a feeling of joy played in his eyes, which he did not experience even when he successfully dammed the mill for the first time, when it was put into operation, when he cheaply bought his millstones ... Come on, judge after that how the human soul is arranged, and what sometimes its joys are based on!
Holding the child in his arms with such a look, as if mentally estimating how much weight he had, the old man carefully laid him in the cradle.
- Well, why not calmer? he exclaimed smugly, stepping back. - How can it not be quieter? .. Look: as if in a boat ... Evna! he added, setting the cradle slightly in motion, “evna! Evna how!
- Oh, you're an entertainer! Entertainer! meanwhile old Palagea was saying, leaning her elbow on the end of the grip and shaking her head, “really, the entertainer! ..
During these last explanations, the sound of an approaching cart was heard; but Savely spoke loudly, Palageya rattled her grip, the daughter-in-law's attention was absorbed by the child and the chatter of her father-in-law; so that no one noticed the noise from outside, until at last the cart drove up almost to the very gate.
- And here is Grishutka! said the old man.
At that moment, such desperate cries and cries were heard from the yard that the feet of those present for a second rooted to the ground. Savely rushed headlong out of the hut. Peter held the horse by the bridle and sadly led it into the yard; in the cart next to Grishutka sat a man with a thin, but purple and pockmarked face, in a high ram's hat and a blue sheepskin coat tightly tied with a belt.
Savely recognized him as a cordon, retired soldier guarding the border of the neighboring province against smuggling of wine. The old man's heart skipped a beat. The cordon officer was holding Grishka by the collar, who was roaring at the top of his voice and saying, sobbing bitterly:
- By God, I didn’t know! .. Let me go! .. Golden, let me go! .. Father, I didn’t know! .. Golden, I didn’t know! ..
Grishutka's face was swollen with tears; they flowed in streams from half-closed eyes and dripped into his mouth, which was gaping unreasonably, probably from an excess of sighs and sobs that crushed him. The procession was closed by a youth, who remained to finish the last cart; It was a small black man's peasant, a very prominent, fussy look; however, as soon as he saw Savely, he jumped forward, waved his arms and, terribly wide-eyed, shouted in a voice torn with zeal:
- Caught with wine! .. Grabbed! .. They took it! They took it with wine!
“Caught with wine!” Peter repeated sadly.
– How?.. Oh, my God! Savely said, stopping in bewilderment.
The noise in the passage and Palagea's voice made him turn around. Marya rushed forward onto the porch, so that Palagea could hardly hold her back; the young woman's face was pale, and she was trembling all over from head to toe; seeing her little brother in the hands of a stranger, she screamed and swayed.
- Where! Don't let her in... Peter, hold her!.. Oh, you, merciful creator! Take her away as soon as possible! .. - Savely exclaimed.
Peter rushed to his wife and, with the help of Palagea, took her to the hut. At this time, the cordon jumped off the cart.
- Are you the boss here? Did you send for wine? he asked, turning to the old man, who could not come to his senses.
- I, father ...
- Caught with wine! .. What a deal! Oh! Got it! Have taken! - the dark-skinned peasant hastened to explain, again using his eyes and hands.
- Exactly, father, caught! - said Peter, appearing on the porch and quickly descending into the yard.
Savely hit himself with his palms on the skirts of his sheepskin coat and shook his head with a contrite look.
“Uncle… I didn’t know… I didn’t know, uncle!” Grishutka started sobbing. - The Mikulin millers taught ... They said: that tavern is closer ...
Who sent for wine? Are you? the cordon guard repeated again, looking insolently at Savely.
We sent! - Peter answered, because the father only shook his head and beat himself with his palms on his sheepskin coat.
- And who are you? asked the cordon Peter.
“I am his son ... I, father,” Peter picked up, “I met with them, as they drove up to our gates ...
- Now just met! - intervened again a little grinder, - drove up, - he's here! Look: and I came up! Eco business!
"You'll tell me about that later," the cordon guard interrupted. - Here he sent for wine, - it became, he will answer ... What robbers! - he added, getting excited, - his tavern is at hand ... no, you have to send it to another! ..
“I didn’t know anything!.. They taught me at the mill…” said Grishutka, shedding tears.
- Shut up! Peter said.
The boy put his hand to his mouth, leaned his forehead against the cart, and roared louder than before.
– But what is it, father… How is it? - Savely said, impatiently waving his hand in response to the youngster, who blinked, tugged at his sleeve and made some mysterious signs.
- Got caught with wine - and that's it! - the cordon objected. - I got caught in our village as soon as I left the tavern; Our headman still had some wine left, and they put a seal on the cask there.
- Printed! They sealed it!.. – Grishutka cried out desperately.
- That's bad! – shouted the youngster, coming all in motion. - They will drag you, grandfather, they will drag you! .. Burst your eyes - they will drag you! ..
- And then how, so, or what, will come down? - the cordon interrupted. - It is known, they will teach a lesson! You will know how to go to a foreign province for wine! It is said: do not dare, not ordered! No, get in the habit, damned! We are waiting for an attorney; they will hand it over to him, approximately, they will tell everything ... Tomorrow they will present it to the court ...
Up to the present moment, Savely had only beaten his sheepskin coat with his hands and shook his head with the air of a man placed in the most difficult situation; at the word "judgment" he raised his head, and a color suddenly played in his embarrassed features; even his neck turned red. The word "judgment" also seemed to have an effect on Grishutka; while the last explanations were going on, he stood with his mouth open, into which tears continued to drip; now he again leaned his forehead against the cart again and again filled the yard with desperate sobs. Peter shifted on the spot and did not take his eyes off his father.
- They called trouble! Here's a sin they did not look forward to! said the old man at last, looking around at those present.
He still wanted to add something, but suddenly changed his mind and walked with quick steps to a small gate that overlooked the stream.
– Listen, good man!.. Hey, listen! - he said, stopping at the gate and nodding to the cordon officer, - come, brother, here ... In two words! ..
The crimson face of the cordon took on a worried look; he went to the gate, showing that he did it reluctantly - so, only out of condescension.
“Listen, good man,” Savely began, leading him to the pond, “listen,” he said, shaking his lips, “listen!” Is it possible how ... huh?
- It's about what? - he asked in a more relaxed tone and as if trying to understand the words of the interlocutor.
“Do me a favour,” the old man pleaded. - As long as I live in the world, there was no such sin. The main reason, the boy got caught! Everything came out through him… Loosen up somehow… huh? Listen, good man!
- Now it’s impossible, in no way, that is, in a manner ... The seal was applied! In addition, the case was in front of witnesses ... it’s impossible ...
“Do me a favor,” the old man continued, dissatisfied this time with pleading with his voice, but still using pantomime and convincingly spreading his trembling hands.
The gray, roguish eyes of the cordon rushed to the barn, beyond which the voices of Peter and the benefactor were heard; after that he retreated a few more steps from the gate.
“Listen, good man! - picked up the encouraged Savely, - take the trouble from me ... but is it possible how it is something ... for example ... Is it possible how to weaken ... really! ..
Kordonny straightened his sheepskin hat and scratched the bridge of his nose. index finger and thought for a second.
- Will you give me twenty rubles? he asked, lowering his voice.
Savely was so taken aback that he only opened his mouth and leaned back.
- It can't be less! - the cordon officer picked up in a calmly persuasive tone. “Just think: now you need to give it to the headman in the village, you need to give it to the peasants who were witnesses, you also need to give it to the kisser; if you don’t give it, they’ll tell the attorney about everything - it’s without fail, you know yourself: what a people these days! .. Well, count: how much will I get out of twenty rubles? Our business is this: we, brother, are then appointed to a position; how, they will say, you caught with wine, concealed it from the office, and took it from the peasant! .. Through this, I must remain a scoundrel before the authorities! From that you fuss, so that there is something from ...
- Twenty rubles for a bucket of wine! said the old man, again flushing up to his neck,
“Listen, uncle,” the cordon officer said peacefully, “don’t shout, it’s not good!” We did not come to that here; he said: if you want to make peace, so do it, but the fact that shouting is not good. I say to my heart, right, you will give more if they are presented to the court: they will take one wine from you three times; so according to the law you will give twelve rubles for wine! Yes, in court how many more quarrels you will quarrel ...
The old man listened and looked at the ground; now, more than ever, he seemed to be overwhelmed by the incident.
- Eco business! Eka attack! he repeated, smacking his lips, shaking his head, and spreading his arms hopelessly. “Father,” Peter suddenly said, appearing at the gate, “come here!”
Savely hastily hobbled over to his son. He signaled him to turn around the corner of the barn. There stood a little fellow, who, as soon as the old man appeared, was again filled with speed.
“Listen, uncle,” he began hastily, grabbing the old man by the sleeve and expressively winking at him at the gate, “listen: don’t give him anything, spit!” Spit, I say! Besides him, everyone saw it! We saw how the little one got caught! There was business with the people! Give it to him - nothing will happen, rumors will reach, everything is unique! Spit! No matter how much you give, everyone will demand it in court: this is the case, it was with the people; rumors will reach; everything is unique! Wants to deceive!.. Spit, I say!
The little man hurriedly jumped back, hearing footsteps behind the gate. The cordon officer seemed to have guessed what was being discussed behind the barn. He was finally convinced of this when he called the old man, and instead of going to him, he thoughtfully continued to look at the ground.
“It’s such a real thing,” said the cordon officer, throwing an evil glance at the beggar, who was yawning at the rafters of the sheds, as if nothing had happened, “we can fall through this abyss ... Everyone protects himself: such a thing! Tomorrow they will introduce him to an attorney, you ask him ... A sort of people! It is said: do not go to a strange tavern - no! Now scout out!.. What about me?.. I can't. Ask an attorney! The last words were spoken outside the gates. The cordon straightened his cap and, muttering something under his breath, quickly walked along the road.
“He must have heard what we were talking about here ...” all his quickness suddenly returned, “of course, he heard, or guessed, everything is the only one!” He sees: there is nothing to take, he did not talk! How much did you ask, uncle? How?
- Twenty cents!
- Oh, he, embroidered mug! Hey robber! Oh you! exclaimed the peasant, rushing in all directions at once, “twenty roubles!” Come on! .. Ek, waved! Ah, the beast! These kissers, there are none worse! The most that there are scammers ... soul out! By God! Oh, you embroidered mug, come on! .. Oh, he! ..
Savely did not pay any attention to the words of the youth; he did not take his eyes off the ground and seemed to be meditating with himself. He had never felt so upset before. This is perhaps because in all his life he has never been so calm and happy as in the last three years, when he built a mill and lived on his own, with his son and daughter-in-law.
Pomolets was about to start again and already grabbed him by the sleeve, but Savely only waved his hand, turned away and, with a slow, burdened step, wandered into the hut.
Prost. Express. 1.
At a considerable distance. I wrote to you how we greedily rushed to the shore to warm ourselves with the hot breath of the earth, how we reveled in the fragrance of flowers blowing from the shore a mile away.(Goncharov. Frigate "Pallada"). To top it all, it seemed to him that his last name was not sufficiently distinguished from others, and he forced Nastya to rewrite it in the largest letters. - Since the best plowman, - he shook his fist, - it is necessary that Lobanov be seen from a mile away(F. Abramov. Brothers and sisters). .
Obsolete Except for a few willows and two or three skinny birches, you won’t see a tree for a mile around(Turgenev. Khor and Kalinich). 2.
From afar. Respected Uncle Styopa For such a height. Uncle Styopa was walking from work - It was visible a mile away(S. Mikhalkov. Uncle Styopa). FOR TWO VERSTS. - Mitin, on the other hand, had a diabolical insight into Katya's mood. For two miles, he smelled - in the spirit, or plucked from all loops(Z. Boguslavskaya. Relatives).
Phraseological dictionary of the Russian literary language. - M.: Astrel, AST. A. I. Fedorov. 2008 .
See what "For two miles" is in other dictionaries:
Kutuzov, Mikhail Illarionovich- Prince Mikhail Illarionovich Kutuzov (Golenishchev Kutuzov Smolensky), 40th General Field Marshal. Prince Mikhail Illarionovich Golenishchev Kutuzov [The Golenishchev Kutuzovs descended from Germany, who left for Russia to Grand Duke Alexander Nevsky ... ...
Skobelev, Mikhail Dmitrievich- son of Lieutenant General Dm. Iv. Skobelev and his wife Olga Nikolaevna, nee Poltavtseva, b. in St. Petersburg on September 17, 1843. As a child, the future warrior already affected him: he was very brave, proud and persistent, but at the same time ... ... Big biographical encyclopedia
Corps of military topographers- Establishment Decree of Emperor Alexander I on January 28, 1822 Liquidation Decree of the Council of People's Commissars of the USSR 1918 The Corps of Military Topographers (KVT) (until 1866 the Corps of Topographers) was organized in 1822 for centralized ... Wikipedia
Chelokhovo (Moscow region)- This term has other meanings, see Chelokhovo. Village Chelokhovo Country Russia Russia ... Wikipedia
two-verst- oh, oh. 1. Stretching two miles. Double distance. 2. Having a scale of two versts to an inch (about geographical maps). Double card... Small Academic Dictionary
Dvukhverstny- double-sided I adj. Having a length of two miles. II adj. Having a scale of two versts in an inch (about geographical map dvuhverstka). Explanatory Dictionary of Efremova. T. F. Efremova. 2000... Modern dictionary Russian language Efremova
Fight on the Sestra River- Great North War Date July 8 (July 19), 1703 (July 9 according to the Swedish calendar) ... Wikipedia
FOR A MILESTONE. Prost. Express. 1. At a considerable distance. I wrote to you how we greedily rushed to the shore to warm ourselves with the hot breath of the earth, how we reveled in the fragrance of flowers blowing from the shore a mile away (Goncharov. Frigate "Pallada"). To top it off…… Phraseological dictionary of the Russian literary language
two-verst- DOUBLE-LOCK oh, oh. 1. Two versts long. D th distance. 2. Having a scale of two miles in an inch (about a geographical map). D ya card… encyclopedic Dictionary
Books
- Verses of courage, . “No, it’s not only in a dream that elderly men who have turned gray during the war years cry. They also cry in reality. The main thing here is to be able to turn away in time. The most important thing here is not to hurt the child’s heart so that he doesn’t ...
Dmitry Vasilievich Grigorovich cat and mouse
I. Autumn views and a boy with a barrel
By the end of autumn, when there is still no snow, but in the morning and in the evening it begins to freeze quite a bit, sometimes such clear, radiant days fall out that you are deceived for a minute and think: isn’t it April again in the yard? .. The sun burns just as brightly, in the air the same brilliance, the shadows on the bare hills are just as light and transparent! All that is missing is the cooing of spring streams, the smell of the earth and the song of the lark, to completely bribe you. On one of these days, about ten o'clock in the morning, a fair-haired boy of about thirteen appeared in the outskirts of the village of Yagodnya. A boy, of whatever age and with whatever hair: white, black or red, belongs to the most ordinary rural phenomena. But the boy in question deserved special attention: he carried a bucket barrel behind his shoulders, tied with an old sash, the ends of which were in his hands. Be behind this boy a trough, a tub, a bunch of brushwood, a wicker bag with chaff, a bunch of hay; sit there another boy - a younger brother - or hang bast shoes or even new oiled boots over your shoulders, nothing would be surprising, but a barrel - especially with iron hoops and a new chiseled wooden stopper, your will, such a circumstance involuntarily aroused curiosity! To begin with, dishes of this kind are not at all in use in the peasant economy: there is nothing to put there; then, the keg is too expensive; finally, it was known that in the whole neighborhood only the sexton had such a barrel; and then he got it by chance: one of the parish landowners gave it. Why, then, was this boy, who did not belong on any side to the deacon's house, carrying this barrel? .. But the boy seemed to be little interested in such considerations. Going outside the outskirts, he shook the barrel with the most carefree look, transferred the ends of the sash to left hand , with his free hand straightened his hat, which was falling over his eyes, and, whistling merrily, walked along the road. The road, paved with carts with oat and rye sheaves that had just passed, rang underfoot and glistened in the sun like gray polished stone. To her right, the fields covered with rough stubble turned yellow indefinitely; to the left stretched the peasant threshing floors, surrounded by an old earthen rampart, with wattle fences sticking out here and there, and willows that had shed their leaves. The shadow from wattle and willows crossed the road in places, imprinting on it whimsical patterns of hoarfrost, which turned into drops and disappeared as soon as the shadow ran away and the rays of the sun touched it; from the groove filled with leaves, nettle bushes and sagebrush, white with drizzle, carried a sharp freshness. But the darker the wattle and willow trunks were drawn, the more dazzlingly the stacks and roofs of the humens sparkled behind them; the quieter it was to the right of the road, the noisier it was behind the willows. There, from end to end, the blows of the flail sounded incessantly, the rye rustled, falling in sonorous, dry grains on the smoothly killed frozen current, the voice of the people, the rustle of pigeons and the cry of jackdaws flying from place to place were heard. Among the feathered sparrows, as always, however, they were distinguished by their particular anger and chatter. No wonder they are called in the common people thieves and robbers! Looking at how they fussed, how they bullied lone jackdaws, and how then their gray feathers goggled when one of these birds showed an intention to attack in turn; how they then sprinkled the neighboring willow and at once began to squeak and beat their wings - one could think that they considered themselves complete masters here and came into such a rage only because they were protecting property. Such tricks greatly amused the boy; it can be said that sparrows even became the only object of his attention as soon as he set foot on the road. Following them with quick, cheerful eyes, he now quickened his pace, then slowed it down; every time the noisy flock, having made an unexpected turn in the air, descended on the top of the willow, the boy fell to the ground and began to creep up; his eyebrows rose, and his face expressed speed and slyness; in the features and movements there was clearly an intention to creep closer and take the birds by surprise; but impatience every time spoiled the matter: before he had taken three steps, he fussily hung his burden on one side and began to knock with a stone on the bottom of the barrel, which at the same time made some kind of stupid dull sound. The keg was empty—this is clear: it could not be otherwise: the emptiness of the keg alone could explain the boy's jumps, his light tread and gaiety; otherwise he could not have run after the sparrows and would not have laughed so loudly when the birds, frightened by the roar of the keg, scattered fearfully and apart. The boy showed, however, such a cheerful disposition that he could, it seems, laugh even under a heavier burden. His gaiety apparently stemmed as much from temper as from health and contentment with life; from his full cheeks, flushed by the sharpness of the morning air, breathed freshness; there was no trace of deprivation and premature fatigue in the features. He was wearing bast shoes, an old sheepskin coat, obviously belonging to a tall man, and a hat, which, of course, could only belong to the owner of the sheepskin coat; but all this was, however, in order; there were many payments; there were even patches of blue and brown cloth, but they did not hang in tatters, but were carefully sheathed all around with healthy white threads; in short, everything showed a very happy boy, a cherished boy who stuffed bread and porridge to his heart's content, not devoid of tender motherly cares. His very figure, strong, full of health and looking from a distance like a bear cub standing on its hind legs, eloquently confirmed such assumptions. He continued banging on the cask and whistling until he passed the Humen. Here he shook his hat somehow from top to bottom and pulled it over his eyes without the help of his hands. The sun's rays, not obscured by willows and stacks, hit him now directly in the eyes. The road led out onto a gently sloping, brightly lit meadow, behind which a mountain ledge rose steeply in the distance, shrouded in shadow; on the left side of the meadow, the last roofs of the village flashed; in the same place, but only incomparably closer to the road, rose an old wooden church, surrounded by bars. The deep expanse of air behind the church was filled with bright sunshine ; from the church across the meadow there was a long shadow, in which the drizzle silvered in the same way, imprinting on the grass the corners of the bell tower, the cross and thin strips of the lattice. The boy with the keg continued to descend and whistle. Suddenly he stopped and stopped. In the midst of dead silence, groans were heard ... They were heard outside the church fence, where the cemetery was located ... If such a circumstance had happened at night or even at dusk, the boy would have thrown his keg and flew without looking back to the village, but now he limited himself to what he became listen carefully. His ruddy face, filled up to the present moment with absent-mindedness and childish carelessness, was comprehended by an expression of attention. He turned off the road and walked towards the church. The moans intensified and turned into sobs. After a while the boy stopped at the fence; putting his cheeks to the bars, he saw a tall, thin peasant who was digging in a grave; The woman, meanwhile, lay on her back beside the pit and desperately pounded her head on the ground. The peasant's face was familiar to the boy; he knew that the peasant's name was Andrei; he met him in the village, met him in church on Sundays, met him on the road, at the mill. He heard how relatives, speaking of him, always called him poor. The boy remembered all this, and the sight of a familiar person in tears and grief aroused his curiosity even more. But curiosity found special nourishment in the woman's despair; she fought at the grave and said in a singsong voice: Oh, it's hard for me... it's hard! Oh, my gray dove, Beloved child! .. Who will chirp to me now? Who will make me happy? - Enough, wife ... Oh! ., we know, it's hard! How to be! .. The power of God! .. - the peasant was saying at the same time, heavily translating shortness of breath and continuing to dig in the grave. - Father! .. Father! - the woman cried even more desperately. - Oh, father! .. Yegorushka ... my child ... whiteness! .. Your bright eyes fell asleep, my breadwinner ... You won’t come back from that, my dear! .. Oh! .. It’s hard! .. It’s hard for me , bitter! .. - Full! .. Well, full ... How to be ... Christ be with him, - Andrey said, continuing to work and stopping often to wipe away the tears that flowed down his cheeks and ate into wrinkles. Listening to such speeches, the boy mechanically followed Andrei's shovel with his eyes. Frozen clods of earth fell from the shovel into the grave; she gradually faded away. Here there was another corner flashed, where a ray of the sun penetrated, but the earth covered it. And the sun will never shine again in this corner! Yegorushka will never see the light of day either! What had become of him now, who had so recently run, shouted and frolicked in the street? However, it is true that he is warmer now than his father and mother, who are barely covered by rags! But on the other hand, how cold it will be when the frost penetrates through the loose earth of the grave! How dreadful it will be for Yegorushka on a dead winter night, when a living person does not pass by the cemetery; when only a gray wolf roams the district, listening with a sensitive ear to the barking of dogs and the whistling of the wind... The wind hums in the rafters of the bell tower and loose snow blows from around the corner of the church... The snow spins like a screw in the frozen air and falls in oblique strips across the graveyard. .. Such considerations could easily have occurred to the imagination of a boy with a barrel over his shoulders, but by the way, I can’t vouch; it is certain that he moved away from the fence only when Andrei filled up the grave, picked up his wife and led her from the churchyard. The boy returned to the road; once or twice he stopped to look after them, but suddenly, as if remembering something, he went forward along the slope with accelerated steps. A little further on, when the meadow slope was already completely open, descending to the mountain ledge, the boy saw a woman knitting bunches of flax, spread out in even rows on the grass; other women immediately appeared behind her, doing the same work. The road passed by, and the first woman called out to the boy as soon as he caught up with her. - Grishutka! - Hey! the boy said cheerfully. - From where, from the village? - Yes. - They sent it, why? - intervened another young woman, also leaving work and approaching the boy. Why were they sent? - Look, keg! - said the boy, shaking his burden. - Hello, Grishutka! - said two more others, going out onto the road, - where? - Yes, I said - from the village! - the boy objected, - They sent for a barrel; they want to take the wine... What is your holiday, or what? the women asked with one voice. - My sister gave birth ... - answered the boy. - Oy! When?.. - Ahti, killer whales! exclaimed the young lady. - Whom did you give birth to, a boy or a girl? .. - A boy ... - That's it, I tea, Uncle Savely rejoiced. As?.. Seven years waiting for a granddaughter something! And you, I suppose, are glad, Grishutka? Huh?.. Glad, I'm tea? He himself has become an uncle now ... Uncle now! .. Uncle! - the youngest one picked up, looking at the boy with sly eyes, - she suits herself like a chufarka, really! He doesn't even want to look... Oh, uncle! Uncle! .. - she said, laughing, and unexpectedly pulled her hat over his eyes. - Well! .. Leave it! .. What are you ... Enough! Grishutka shouted, leaning back and making incredible efforts with his eyebrows to raise his hat on his forehead. - That's something his cheeks somehow faded away the other day! Look at the red ones and what fatty ones! - picked up the other, jumping up to the boy before he could lift his hat, and putting her hands to his cheeks, which were so fresh that the woman felt freshness even on her palms. - Leave! Well! .. What are they pestering? .. Well! .. - the boy shouted, trying in vain to free his eyes from the hat and fighting off the women, who, rejoicing at the opportunity to pamper and laugh, surrounded him, squeezed and pulled in all directions. - Oh, well, weave, is the keg heavy? - said one, putting her hands on the dish and arching the boy back. - No more heavy! laughed another, tugging at the ends of the sash that was catching the boy's shoulders and bending him forward. - Babs, bring him to the ground! Bring down the robber! - shouted the third. At the same moment, several arms were wrapped around him; but someone's shoulder twisted Grishka's hat to one side, and his right eye was freed from the darkness; this circumstance instantly revived in him courage, which was already beginning to fall; he began to tear in all directions, to work with his elbows, to kick with his feet, to move the barrel, and before the women, in the midst of laughter and shouting, had time to resume the siege, deftly wriggled out of the circle and rushed headlong down the road. The boy's gallops set in motion an old cork that had once been pierced into the barrel, and which lay there, clinging to the bottom; Mistaking the noise of the jumping cork for a chase, Grishka flew for the first minute like an arrow and without looking back. He soon woke up, however, and stopped to take a breath. - What witches! he shouted, turning quickly to the upper part of the meadow, where the women stood, laughing at the top of their lungs. - Right, witches! .. Witches! Witches! - he picked up quickly and gradually strengthening his voice. The women clapped their hands and made a movement, as if they were starting to catch up with him. Grishutka moved his legs and again flew without looking back. He had already stopped when he ran almost to the foot of the meadow slope and clearly saw that his fears were not based on anything; the women were not even visible: the flax was spread out in a small hollow, which became noticeable only from a distance; the women apparently set to work again, and their bowed position hid them from the boy's eyes. However, he considered it a duty to call them witches several times; relieving himself as if from an enormous weight, he cheerfully shook the barrel and began to jump over the stones that served as a crossing over the stream; the stream ran between the foot of the passed meadow slope and the mountain precipice, which rose almost sheer. At this point the carts usually forded, and the road, intercepted by the stream, again showed its ruts between the bank and the cliff; she followed the course of the stream and went to the left. After a little while the boy rounded part of the slope, and the church appeared before him on high, turned by its other face; turning back, he could also see the village of Yagodnya, which, from this point of the road, was almost completely pictured and looked out of its windows, playing in the sun, at a small valley along which a stream wound. But Grishutka did not think to turn around. He was attracted to other subjects; then a crow perched on one of the stones and it was required to slow down the step, get closer to it and frighten it from its place; then his attention was stopped by small creeks of a stream, covered with shining needles of ice that had not yet had time to thaw in the sun; it was impossible to pass by without breaking the ice crust, without sucking it. Ice is now a curiosity; joke! How long has he been gone! It was also hard to resist, so as not to push a stone that hung over the stream and seemed to ask itself to fall into the water; or not to let a piece of tree bark down the stream and not to admire how it will wag and jump between stones, how it will growl and disappear in the foam that gathered near the ledges, and how then it will float again, following a whimsical bend. In some places the banks were covered with willow bushes, which even strengthened here and there in the middle of the stream in the form of small islands. But how deplorable those little islands looked now! The stronger the sun penetrated them, the more noticeable was their poverty; instead of dense, impenetrable greenery, bare, coldly shiny twigs stuck out everywhere, intertwined with faded brambles, covered at the base with a leaf that looked like an onion shell and plaintively crunched in the lightest breeze. Passing by, Grishutka sometimes opened a gray fluffy nest between the bars; such a discovery gave him every time the opportunity to wonder how he had not noticed it before, passing here in the summer. What kind of bird was this? .. It must have been some kind of tiny one! And where does she go now? "Wait, wait, summer will come again, she will fly back to her former place to hatch eggs! .." And the boy, looking around, tried to notice a stone, an earthen ledge, a ravine opposite a bush with a nest, so as not to be mistaken when the time came to attack directly on the trail. Meanwhile, the cheeks of the valley diverged, the slopes on both sides went down, the stony ground noticeably became softer and covered with grass, along which now smoothly, without foam and noise, the stream descended. Soon spacious meadows opened up, in some places enclosed by wooded hills. This whole plane, flooded with the same brilliant, though cold radiance, seemed perfectly smooth; the village was nowhere to be seen. But here and there thin wisps of smoke rose in the distance. Somewhat closer, though still very far away, stood a building with a high gabled roof, which cut out in a bluish triangle under the glittering edge of the horizon. A group of willows rose even closer; between their big-headed trunks and through the bare boughs, a new log barn flashed in the sun with a hut and a shed clinging to it. The brook, leaning back from the road, made two or three turns, disappeared twice, and again sparkled at the willows; the road went straight to the barn. At the sight of the old willows and the barn, the absent-minded, carefree look of the boy disappeared immediately; he again seemed to remember something, and now, with a preoccupied and completely business-like air, he briskly walked forward. Little by little, not far away, behind the willows, the bank of the river appeared, stretching straight to the building with a high roof, flashing in the distance. The stream ran to the river; but before rolling off it, he closed himself with a dam and filled a small pond lined with willows on one side; a barn, a hut and wattle fences with a canopy adjoined the same side. AT summer time all this should have disappeared in the greenery, but now the fallen leaf made it possible to see two water wheels attached to the barn, and under them a plank trough; long silvery threads of water seeped through the cracks in the boards, while a rod of water cascaded from the far end of the gutter, foaming all over the lower part of the barn. The water was obviously let in from excess, because the wheels remained motionless. The pond sparkled like a mirror; and on its unshakable surface the willow trunks with their twigs, a part of the wattle fence, a wattle gate and a brightly lit barn with its roof sprinkled with flour dust were clearly reflected; the place where the water from the pond rushed into the gutter seemed to be a motionless mass of glass; the speed of striving was shown only by ducks, which, no matter how hasty they were in moving their red paws, still barely swam against the current. Rounding the pond (the road ran along the other side of the pond and ended directly at the barn gate, which was now locked), Grishutka stepped onto a flexible plank thrown through the chute opposite the gate. At another time, of course, he would not have failed to scare the ducks, already struggling with their strength to swim out of the rapids; He would also not fail to stop in the middle of the plank and swing over the water, in which he imagined himself standing upside down with his keg - but, one must think, it was not up to that now. He fussily crossed the plank, looked at first through the crack in the gate, and, suddenly assuming a determined intention, stepped into the courtyard of the mill.II. Family joy and preparations
- Is that you, well done? .. Why so long? And I thought - your legs are fast; I thought you were losing your spirits... This voice, somewhat torn, but somehow condescending and very soft, belonged to an old man who was sitting under a canopy of the yard astride a stump of a log and worked something with an axe. It was only such a voice that could belong to this old man; he somehow walked towards him, answered his meek, grinning face, supplemented, so to speak, the impression that the old man made at first sight. If his voice sounded hoarse, like a dull saw in a rotten tree, or resounded like from a barrel, it would be the same as if a sparrow barked like a crow. If you like, the old man's outward appearance partly even looked like a sparrow: the same quickness and vanity in movements, the same sharp nose and quick eyes, the same, relatively, of course, personal dimensions; the difference in resemblance consisted in the fact that the sparrow was all gray, while the old man had only gray eyebrows; his hair was white as snow, and scattered in strands as fibrous as tattered linen, on both sides of a small, but extremely intelligent and lively face. - What's taking so long, huh? repeated the old man, looking at Grishka. It cannot be said that the boy was very embarrassed; he stammered, however, did not find what to answer and, in order to recover, hastened to lower the keg from his shoulders and put it on display. - That's what I see ... I see ... - the old man said, shaking his head, - but why was it so long ?., that's what ... - The women, uncle ... detained ... they all ... What kind of women? asked the surprised old man. - Linen was knitted in the meadow. I'm going ... and they ... they and let's get attached. I’m all on the run… read, all the way… you can’t do anything with them! bro, there's something wrong. You're talking painfully! Something's not right, Grishunka... With the name Grishunka, the boy's awkwardness disappeared in an instant. He knew very well that when the old man wanted to scold him, or was generally out of sorts, he always called him Grishka, Grigory; when he was in the spirit, there was no other name than Grishutka, Grishakha or Grishunka. It was time for the boy to get used to such shades: he lived with the old man for the third year; he was the brother of his daughter-in-law, and the old man took him from his parents in order to gradually accustom him to the mill business. - Well, what are you looking at? huh? .. - picked up the old man. - The keg brought, well, okay; what are you looking at? .. Ali, what is a curiosity here? - No, uncle, I look: where are these our dogs? - objected the boy, to whom his frivolity and absent-mindedness returned again. - No dogs to be seen ... - Ek care fell ... dogs not to be seen! .. Ah! .. The wolves ate. At this, the old man grinned at his toothless gums and laughed. From everything it was evident that he was in an excellent mood; gaiety shone in his eyes, peeped out in the movements of his gray-haired head, which swirled smugly; it seemed to him that gaiety was tight in his chest, and it burst out of there by itself. - Look, what he laments about: about dogs! Eh, lad, lad! .. That's really it: young and green! - You better look here, look here. Completely, honestly, already finished ... Well, is it all right? .. The object pointed out by the old man really deserved attention: from under the canopy, which cast a thick shadow on the yard, a long flexible pole protruded; at the end of the pole passed an old rusty ring, four short ropes descended from the ring, which diverged and attached their ends to the corners of a wooden frame, sheathed inside with linen and representing a kind of clumsy bag. - Well, what's the thing, eh? - said the old man, bending down several poles with ropes and suddenly releasing them from his hands, and the frame and the bag began to jump. - What is it, uncle? the boy asked, following the evolution of the bag and the frame. - What did you think? - Kachka? - Heh, heh, heh! .. - the old man burst out. - It is known that pitching, not a granary box. Well, well done, say: well, or what? - All right, uncle! - Evna! Evna! Evna! - said the old man, again setting the cradle in motion and leaning his palms on his sides. - Evna! It will notably lie down for our young man! .. I’ll also make the bottom with felt, and put a mattress ... Here is a little more rope of that ... I see it myself - it’s crooked, it takes everything to the right side. And then we'll hang you!.. My granddaughter and your nephew will sleep well, Grishutka; like in a boat! Will not stir. Here the grinning face of the old man suddenly became serious; he turned away and bowed his head. “Only God grant that he, his heart, live ... Create such mercy, the queen of heaven! ..” he said in an undertone, crossing himself slowly, with an arrangement. Grishutka, who never took his eyes off him, mechanically took off his hat. - You, Grishakha, did not meet dear Peter? asked the old man, straightening his eyebrows. - No, uncle. - Something all of you nonche how hesitated? The day is like this: the mouth is full of trouble, but they don’t lead with their ears ... exactly, really, they gave a vow ... - Here he is, uncle. ..Here goes! - shouted Grishka and ran to open the gate, beyond which the sound of a cart approaching was heard. A wooden bolt clicked, the gates creaked piercingly, and in the dark bottom of the sheds a brightly shining square suddenly opened up with a horse in the foreground, a cart and a young guy sitting in it. But before Grishka could take the horse by the bridle, he was almost knocked over by two dogs: one gray, large, like a wolf; the other is somewhat smaller, black, with yellow pupils, half-hidden by rough eyebrows, covered all over with disheveled curls, making it look from a distance like a ball trimmed with black furry ram. “Uncle is waiting,” said Grishka, fighting off the dogs with one hand, grabbing the reins with the other. - Yes, it's time! It is high time! said the old man from the other end of the shed. The cart drove into the yard. A light-brown fellow, about twenty-seven years old, of medium height, but dense, squat, breathing strength and health, crawled out of it. It was the old man's son and the husband of Grishka's sister. As much as he took against his father by force, so much, it seemed, was inferior to him in quickness, liveliness and that quick wit and intelligence that was reflected in the eyes and every feature of the old man. The little one even looked like a simpleton, but, by the way, he was a zealous assistant to his father, a reliable, solid support of his old age; small, he was meek, calm, honest; These properties were clearly imprinted on his broad, round face, pubescent below with a beard, through which thick, kind lips shone through and from time to time a row of dazzling white teeth flashed. - So late? asked the old man, going out to meet him. “You can’t do anything, father,” the son humbly objected, “Vasily was not at home: he had to wait. - Well, did you buy it? - I bought, father, I bought everything that you punished: one pood of corned beef, twenty pounds of lamb, butter and peas for jelly ... - A lot, tea, quarreled money? asked the old man, narrowing his eyes. - At that price I took it, as you said ... - That's good! .. Hey, aunt Palageya! Come to us! - shouted the old man, fussily turning to the porch of the hut. “I’m coming, breadwinner, I’m coming!” croaked a voice in the passage, and then an old woman appeared with a sunken chest and a face wrinkled like prunes. The old man took her from Yagodnya for the whole time while his daughter-in-law was in bed; In addition to the usual household chores, Palageya undertook to cook up a baptismal dinner, scheduled for tomorrow, for two and a half. - Well, Aunt Palageya, your cooking has arrived! .. Take it, crumble it, turn it - and put it in the stove! . - Ready, killer whale! .. We have a flying spirit! It would be from something, my dear, - it won’t be up to me ... You won’t blink, - I’ll present everything to your pleasure! - Grishutka, it's enough for you to mess around with dogs! .. Look, you found the time! Help Aunt Palageya to drag her to the hut ... You, Petruha, - added the old man, lowering his voice and pointing with his eyes at the old woman, - you look after her ... you are a sharp woman; If you don’t look closely, you’ll sprinkle some grains for yourself, cut off the ham, and pour out the butter... Your hostess, of course, is not up to it now, she’s busy with the little ones... Well, but was the priest there? - Was. - What is he? - As mass departs, he says, we will baptize here, he ordered to come. - Well, did you visit the matchmaker Silaev and godfather Dron to call them? - No, father, I didn’t have time ... Vasily kindly delayed me with purchases ... I’ll go to them as soon as I get out. - Yes, you are small with the back of your head! Do we have this one thing? .. Well, okay; maybe we can manage it somehow... Until you go to the village, and I'll go for wine: Grishunka brought a barrel. Well, without you, I couldn’t sit clasping my hands ... look, come on, - the old man said, leading his son to the cradle and again setting it in motion: - Evna! Evna! Evna how! Okay, right? - Well, father ... I, father, as I was driving through a meadow, met three carts from Protasov; they go to our mill; soon, tea, will be ... Andrei also met with me ... - Which Andrei? - Yes, ours, from Yagodin ... He buried the boy again; buried the last ... - What are you! .. What a bitter man, really! And what a curiosity this is: there are no guys standing with him, and it’s full! All at the same time, honestly, made up their minds, in one autumn this year ... And poverty, and grief ... Well, he didn’t say why he was going? concluded the old man, looking inquiringly. - No, he didn't; no way he carried a sack of rye; it must be grinding. - Hm! Hm! All this is good, but not in time; right, leisure; God be with them completely and with the carts! You sit, it happens, there is nothing to do, no one goes; you won’t get any trouble, - they all fell down as if on purpose ... - I, father, will go while I visit the hostess, - the son interrupted. - Go! .. I'll manage here ... now the pitching needs to be adjusted ... Hey, Grishunka! Hey! - What, uncle? - Unharness the horse, put it in its place, and move the cart away - now the carts will arrive! The boy ran to the horse; the old man again sat astride the stump and began to hew the pegs intended for spreading the frames on the cradle. The horse was already unharnessed, and the boy was busy with the cart, when Andrey, the same peasant who had buried the child, appeared in the bright opening of the open gate. At first glance, Grishka did not recognize him: Andrey was very tall, but now, bent into an arch under the weight of a bag thrown over his shoulder, he seemed like a small man. He wore the same rags; they were now joined by a hat, which he did not have in the cemetery. With a slow, heavy step, he went straight to the old man, he took off his hat in five steps; despite the cold, his forehead was completely wet, and black hair curled around his forehead and temples. "Ah! Great, brother Andrei ... great! .. - said the old man, stabbing the ax into a stump and getting up. - I heard about your grief, I heard! The son said! How to be something, brother, how to be!". It is pleasing to the Lord God to know ... His, to know, the holy will, - he picked up with regret. at this time; the old man was "strong in accounts," as they say in the common people. Andrei listened, hanging his arms and bowing his head; his handsome face, pale from fatigue, pitted with need and deprivation of all kinds, expressed deep sorrow; but in this sorrow there was something submissive, quiet; he, apparently, got used to the blows of fate, did not resent them, and if tears flowed down the early them to his wrinkles, so it was completely against his will; he could not cope with them. - Yes, - he said with a pause, - yes, Savely Rodionich, the Lord took the last ... There was one ... and now he is gone, he has become an orphan, Savely Rodionich, as he is an orphan now ... He did not finish, turned away and wiped his face with the back of his hand. - Yes ... How to be ... the power of God! .. - Savely said in a tone through which the egoistic feeling of a happy person was visible. - The Lord, the merciful creator, took away from you, but gave it to me! You none, Andrey, buried your offspring, and none of my granddaughters was born on the night! I waited for seven years, prayed to the Lord, - there was none; and now the Lord has sent! .. The power of God! You can’t argue with him ... After all, you had only three guys in any way? One, I remember, had such a pigtail, he still fell a little on his leg ... there was a crooked leg ... This one, perhaps, died? - This one, Savely Rodionich... - Well, egot, God bless him! The man was offended... Wouldn't have been your assistant... There was a cripple! - No, Savely Rodionich, I feel more sorry for this ... I buried others, as if it were not so bitter! .. Kosinkogo is more pitiful than all, Savely Rodionich! he is gone, Yegorushka is gone, I remembered. .. it even came off my heart ... Kosinko is the most pitiful of all! .. - What can I say ... the last one was; its own strip of meat! .. What can I say! Savely said, looking around. - You, brother Andrey, do not be angry with me ... By God, there is no time ... no time today ... We have no trouble and-and-and! .. - I'm on business with you, Savely Rodionich. .. - Hm! What is your business? .. If you can ... - Yes, I came to grind ... one bag of everything ... - Well, then, go to sleep! .. - Only ... can you somehow, Savely Rodionich .. As before a true God, I say: I have nothing... I didn't have a penny left from the funeral... I have nothing to give for grinding... Savely grimaced and scratched the back of his head. - Make it whole, Savely Rodionich! .. Really, there is no flour for one loaf of bread ... Savely looked at the ground and shrugged his lips. - Uncle, carts are coming to us! Three wagons! shouted Grishka, who was standing at the gate. - Look, the Lord God sends you, Savely Rodionich! Andrey said. - N ... well, God bless you! Fall asleep! Just go faster, before they drive up, - said the old man, assuming his good-natured appearance again. - Grishutka, unhook the wheel and go - at the first tackle! .. Two minutes later, a hiss of a millstone was heard inside the barn, which soon dispersed and began to flutter, sending light clouds of flour dust from the barn door. “Petrunka,” Savely said, stopping his son after the carts had entered the yard, the second gear had been set up and set in motion, “what should we do now, you hear? - Well, father? - You are going to the village now to call for christening; maybe you will procrastinate there again; until the evening, maybe you will stay; the days are short now... Then these, God forgive me, have arrived! he added, pointing with his eyes at the carts, “there is no way I can get away from them. And who will go for wine now? .. - Let's go, father, Grishka - he will go! The old man pursed his lips and shook his head. - What is it? continued the son. - What wisdom! He gave money to the kisser - and that's it; it's a bucket barrel, you can't measure it: it's all in plain sight ... - In plain sight, in plain sight ... It's so ... Yes, a small one ... I think that one ... Well, okay, go! .. - said Savely, thinking better. “Hey, Grishka,” he shouted when Peter disappeared at the gate, “go and harness your horse; just watch how you start to put on the arc, tell me, don’t tighten it yourself ... - Let me help him, - Andrei said, leaving the barn, - I have nothing to do yet. He went to meet the boy who was already leading the horse. When the cart was ready, Savely ordered Grishka to put on a fur coat and take a hat. He goggled at first surprised eyes; but then, as if with this order, great happiness was combined for him, he flew into the hut and at once even jumped over all the steps of the porch. - Do you want to send it? - Andrey asked. “Yes, take the wine for tomorrow,” Savely objected, putting his hand in his bosom with a preoccupied look and taking out a leather purse from there. - What is it, how wine has become not expensive with us! Four rubles for a bucket... What a thing!.. And it would be nice if the wine was good, quick... otherwise the goblin knows them, God forgive me, what they add there, robbers!.. It used to be two and a half paid ; now it's gotten worse, but give back all four rubles... It's a disaster, and nothing more! - Oho-ho! - said Savely, counting money on the palm of his hand, - it has become, such times have already come ... such hard times ... Such times! Putting on a sheepskin coat and grabbing a hat was a matter of one minute for Grishka; he returned to the yard before the old man had time to count the money. - Uncle, I'm here! he said, hastily fastening the top button of his sheepskin coat as he walked, and looking curiously first at the old man's face, then at the palm of the money. - I'm here, uncle! .. - the boy repeated impatiently. - See see! Six hryvnias, yes half a ruble ... yes two kopecks ... - the old man muttered. "Take the keg, Grishutka, put it in the cart," he added in passing, raising his voice. - Three more quarters ... Only four rubles ... Do you see this money? he concluded, turning to the boy. - I see, uncle! - What do you see? - Money, uncle! - How many are there? “I don’t know…” - look, do not drop! .. - No, uncle, I will hold it in my hand: I won’t let it out! Savely shook his head, silently unbuttoned his sheepskin coat, felt the sheepskin inside, shook his head again; Silently, he then took off the boy's hat, carefully examined the crown, lifted it up and, having invested money in it, pulled the hat firmly over Grishka's head again. - Look at me, do not take off your hats dear! - he said. “Now you’ll go to a tavern, take a bucket of wine there, tell the kisser: “It’s a bucket barrel, you’ll see how you measure it! ..” Wait! - the old man raised his voice, seeing that the boy rushed to the cart, - wait! Ek wears it like!.. Do you still know where the tavern is? - How, uncle! How not to know ... I'm the first time ... a tavern across the river ... - Wait! .. - the old man interrupted, showing impatience in his turn, - wait! are you boasting? What are you boasting about? Kabak, I know; across the river... Why, across the river we have two taverns; as you pass the river, there will be two roads from the ferry; one will go to the left, the other straight, do not go to the left; step straight. .. do you hear? - Listen, uncle! - And if you hear, sit down and go; Here's another thing: look at me, don't drive the horse! When you get home, I’ll take a look: if she’s sweaty, I’ll wash the whirlwinds! .. Remember what is said: do not take off your hats on the road; as soon as you arrive at a tavern, then just go... The last words were spoken to the boy, when he was already sitting in the cart and holding the reins. Andrei took the horse by the bridle and led it out of the gate. Grishka whistled to the dog, which flew after him, and soon the dog and the cart were out of sight. “Andrey,” the old man shouted when he returned, “stay here in the barn for now; look after the pilgrims, I’ll go to the hut for a minute, I’ll visit my daughter-in-law, I’ll look at my granddaughter ... - All right, Savely Rodionich. “Wait! .. Come here ...” the old man said, heading to the side of the canopy where the cradle hung, “you, brother, are taller than me, you will get it without a stand ... with the ring from the pole ... by the way, already at the same time I'll go pitching in the hut and fix it ... Wait a minute! - he added, stopping Andrei with one hand, setting the cradle in motion with the other hand, - now, it seems, he is walking smoothly. Evno! Evno! .. Okay, take it off now! Andrew fulfilled his request. "Stay in the barn for now," repeated Uncle Savely. And, passing the ring through his bony fingers, stretching out his arms so that the bottom of the cradle would not drag along the ground, he trudged into the hut, keeping a self-satisfied smile on his face all the time.III. Little biography little man
The era in which Savely was born belongs to a very distant time. The best proof of this is that the landowners then had the right to sell their peasants one by one. Now, thanks to enlightenment, which both we and Europeans are so rightly surprised at, the right to sell souls singly does not exist. Now the peasants are sold only as a whole family: it is both more humane and even more profitable. The neighbor liked, for example, your carpenter; he offers very favorable conditions for him. - An excellent man, - you say with animation, - excellent! Treasure is not a person! On occasion, he can even paint roofs, make varnishes ... his wife is also an excellent woman ... - But I don’t need his wife and children, - the neighbor objects, - I want to have only one carpenter; I need him alone... - I can't live without a wife and children... I can't! - you say with conviction, - don't you know that I can no longer do this ... - There is nothing to do, sell the whole family ... I actually do not care! .. But in this case, the monetary conditions will remain the same .. . - What do you! What are you!.. Christ is with you!.. - you say, struck by the shamelessness and arrogance of your neighbor. - His wife is an excellent washerwoman; She even washes thin lace collars! Let her go to rent - she will bring you the faithful fifteen rubles! .. Finally, he has another boy of about twelve, an amazing boy! He learned to read and write by self-taught, writes like a clerk, using purely calligraphic handwriting... my family even calls him a calligrapher... In a word, a wonderful boy! In four or five years, he will bring you thirteen rubles a quitrent, if not more! .. I would never part with this child and his mother ... I give them up solely because I do not need a father, and since, according to the law it’s impossible to sell the face, I decide to sell the whole family at the same time ... The neighbor desperately needs the carpenter, he offers, in excess of the prescribed amount for the father, something for the mother and son - and you remain, therefore, in profit against the way it was would be the sale of one soul. But all this matter is extraneous and is exhibited here solely in defense of the success of our enlightened age. Savely Rodionich belonged to another province, and not to the one where he was now. When he was seven years old, he was sold along with his father and mother to the village of Yagodnya, where at that time the land was four times the number of souls. The resettlement from the motherland to the new place took place very safely; there were, of course, no tears, cries, and even cries of despair at parting, it’s impossible: the heart is not a stone! I had to say goodbye to relatives whom I would never see again, I had to part forever with the graveyard on which the bones of my fathers rested, and so on. But there is no such grief that would not be diminished by time. They cried and stopped. Savely's family was built a hut and allotted land. The locality of Yagodni, air, water, life under the then landowner - everything was better than at home. For all that, the settlers were somehow not lucky in the new place. Savely's mother was apparently languishing; by the beginning of autumn she fell ill, and by the end she gave her sinful soul to God. In the second year, Savely remained an orphan, because his father also "moved", that is, he moved to such a region, from where no landowner - even if he offered all his fortune - could already get Savely's father. Sirota began to move from one family to another. When the steward called to see if there were anyone who wanted to take the boy in, many families expressed their greatest readiness; the boy was given away, but soon it became necessary to take him away from the educators: some forced him to plow at the age of eight, others gave him for hire to a neighboring village, others showed a clear intention to raise him for the tone of the goal itself, in order to send him to the soldiers for his son, when the turn comes, and so on. Such orders did not correspond to the type of manager, who, fortunately, was a reasonable and, most importantly, very kind person. He decided to try again and gave the orphan to a lonely peasant who lived with his wife. The peasant undertook to raise the boy; he even promised to adopt him. This time one could, it seems, rely on the educators. Despite the extreme poverty of the new owners of the boy, they did not send him to plow, nor did they rent him out to neighbors. Saveliy's life did not go better than before. Soon he began to get used to the owners; little by little they began to get used to it. The boy was, however, a nice one, although it must be said (and the old man and the old woman confessed this with a contrite heart) - he ate a lot of bread from them. “To growth, or something, he’s like that, or before he was already hungry a lot,” they said, “but he only eats - Christ is with him! - like an adult! they that took it, and spared bread less. The bread was good for the little boy; he grew, grew stronger, became attached to the old people and at the same time, without joking, became useful to them. In the thirteenth year, he was already freely managing the plow; and this is not at all because the owner urged him a lot, but because of his own desire. AT former time when the old man’s turn went out to go to the night, or other worldly and lordly affairs tore him off, his field often walked (there was nothing to hire a farm laborer), his own work stopped, the fence remained unwoven, the horse was untidy, and so on; now he left the little one, and if the latter did not lead the matter to complete success, then, according to at least, yet at least slightly moved him. And everything was done with him somehow quickly, willingly, cheerfully, everything was somehow given to him and argued in his hands. The old man was somewhat of a carpenter; Savely liked to look closely at such work. For fifteen years he wielded an ax no worse than his tutor. A year has passed, another. Around this time, the church that we saw was being rebuilt in Yagodnya. Savely was among the carpenters. This choice determined, one might say, his fate. The church was rebuilt by its own peasants, but they were in charge of two experienced Yegorievsk carpenters. From the very first days they noticed that no one had planed the boards smoother than Saveliy, no one had brought out the grooves for the drainage of water so cleanly, no one had been so quick-witted, dexterous and bold with an ax and on the stage. They let him cut corners and then put him behind the frames. But where Savely especially distinguished himself was when he had to remove the outer walls and church sheds with patterned valances. He hollowed out such a beautiful pattern in the board that everyone just gasped and decided that it was better not to invent it. Now these wooden festoons, which once served as the best exterior decoration of the church, no longer exist; rained down for fifty years, devoured by wormholes and mold, they were completely destroyed; in one place only east side church, where the altar and where the graves are crowded, there was one more left - a gray cleft with a cracked and half-falling pattern; but this last remnant, already hanging on one nail, on the day of the th day threatens to fall on the nearest gravestone and crumble into dust. Rumor, they say, the earth is full. It became known in the vicinity that a clever carpenter was in Yagodnya; rumor was not slow to penetrate the mills, of which there were already quite a few in the neighborhood. The millers began to call Savely. - Well, father, - Savely said, when the old man started talking about this subject, - if you and mother let go, I would go, perhaps; carpentry work was given to me; Contrary to any other business, I have a desire for her ... It seems to me that there will be no thinness for the house from this; the Emelyanovsky miller promises one hundred and thirty rubles from the saint to the spell; you will give eighty rubles to the farm laborer; God knows how much land we have, he will manage it; you'll help a little more... That means fifty rubles will remain in the house! No matter how you scatter your mind, everything means that you will remain in profit. Such a speech came to the old man's soul and mind. Savely went. I consider it superfluous to expand on how Savely lived at the Emelyanov mill. Suffice it to say that in the second year the miller promised him not a hundred and thirty, but a hundred and eighty, if only there would be a worker. One of the reasons why wages increased was partly also because the neighboring millers tried in every possible way to lure the worker to them. Such circumstances seem to speak in favor of Savely enough. In ten mills, at least, it became known that it was better not to find an Emelyanovsky carpenter in the district: the Emelyanovsky wheels of his work became famous as much for the purity of the finish as also because, taking less water, they turned as quickly as before. The little one, moreover, was a jack-of-all-trades: if you want, put him to the pond, lead the crowd to go into action, go to the market with flour or let him look after the pilgrims - he doesn’t fail at anything, he’s much better at everything, he won’t quarrel anywhere; and what a small one: he doesn’t get drunk, his temper is meek, he is always ready to respect the owner - in a word, a treasure, not a worker! Savely stayed with the former owner; he started to move from him, and he did not want to go to a new place, especially since he was used to the first and gave him the same salary as the second. Meanwhile, the little farm of the old man and the old woman was getting better from year to year. Saveliy sent them money on time and never withheld a penny from them. - Here, father, - he will say, - here there are not enough businessmen with a five-kopeck piece; don't hesitate: two rubles went to buy a sheepskin coat; Look, it's worn on the back. .. I put in a new sheepskin, and more on my elbows ... I gave one ruble for boots. And for five kopecks, father, don’t be angry: you bought a printed scarf ... on a holiday, of course, you want to take a walk, tie it around your neck ... we all go like that; I didn’t want to oppose others ... as if ashamed! .. The laborer, who took the place of Savely, got a good one: the fields did not stand, they were cultivated; not like before, when, sometimes, the old man, distracted now by the world, now by corvée, did not have time to manage his affairs. There was plenty of bread now; was even for sale. But man has already been created that way, it is clear that he is never satisfied with the present. No matter how much Providence wastes its blessings on him, no matter how much you pamper him, he still strives to get more, still continues to bother Providence, asking him for new gifts, new happiness. The same was with the old people - the adoptive father and mother of Saveliy. Until their advanced years, they endured bitter need, poverty; the Lord took pity on them: he satisfied their need, consoled their old age, sending them a son - a support; let's say the son was not his own, but it doesn't matter when he lived with them and made them happy, perhaps better than any blood! So no! It was enough for the old people to oppose, as soon as they rejoiced over Savely and thanked God for him, they began to send new prayers to him, began to give free rein to new dreams! In the morning, in the evening, in short, when the old man and the old woman met, all they could hear was their conversation that, they say, of course, the merciful Creator blessed them with everything, sent both a son and prosperity, but that in addition to all this, as if something else is missing ... That we should now marry our son, we should rejoice at his happiness, we should babysit the grandchildren ... and so on. There is no word, under the existing circumstances, such dreams were not, perhaps, arrogant; now any girl would gladly go to their house; but still, doesn’t this prove that a person, even an advanced one, never calms down, will forever be carried away by dreams and demand more. Providence gave a son - no, not enough: give your son a wife, then grandchildren, and so on. The old man and especially the old woman began to look for a bride. It wasn't far to walk; in the same Yagodnya, a good girl soon turned up. In the winter, on a visit, Savely came. The old men talked to him, showed him the girl; The guy liked the girl, he agreed - and in the same month they played a wedding. For two months he lived at home, spent the Christmas holidays with his young wife - and again went to work. He had such an agreement with the owner of the Barkha mill, which at that time was known as the first mill throughout the province. Savely was already receiving three hundred rubles a year in salary. But happiness is not enough! Exactly: not enough happiness. No matter how much Savely prayed to God, no matter how much the old saints asked, the old woman even went on a pilgrimage on this subject - no, the Lord did not give children to Savely, did not give grandchildren to old people! Everything else was blessed; a lot of bread was born, the cattle was good: there was a cow and a heifer, eight sheep, two horses; they lived in a new hut and with a wide stove, decks and a partition; the rest of the building was also improved: the pillars of the sheds were new, the wattle fences stood like a wall, the roof was so thickly covered with straw that it would have been three peasant yards; they themselves, and the old men, and the daughter-in-law, and Savely, used good health- in a word, everything was so that it was impossible to wish for better, but the Lord did not give children; children were not born, and only! Savely was already about thirty-seven years old when his landowner suddenly died. The heirs hurried to sell Yagodnya. The new landowner came to the purchased. His first order was to collect all the peasants who worked on the side and went to dues. Savely had just hired himself to run some new mill; he lost his place and, moreover, had to pay a penalty. But we will leave Savelya for a while. Let us tell in a few words the story of Yagodin for twelve years. The life of a peasant is so closely connected with the position of his village; the position of the countryside is so dependent on the life of the landowner, his views, character and manner of government, that by telling the history of the countryside, or, anyway, the history of the management of it, at the same time you give an opportunity to judge the life and being of the peasant himself. Providence, which always kept Yagodnya, saved her from fires, crop failures, pestilence and bad landowners, it seemed, suddenly turned away from her. So, at least, the peasants spoke and thought. During these twelve years, five landlords were replaced in a row in Yagodnya; all of them, as if by choice, belonged to the class known to us under the name of "landlord speculators." To this class, thanks to God, which is very few in our country, belong for the most part people of dark origin; they come out of seminaries, out of county courts, out of the back rows of civil public service , rise to the ranks of secretaries and collegiate advisers, sometimes more, and, having stuffed a penny, they start acquiring estates in order to round off their capital. Such gentlemen do not usually live in their villages. Their childhood is not imprinted with memories of rural life - memories that cordially bind a person to such and such a place and the people who belong to him, and make him look at all this without any benefits and calculations. In the eyes of the landowner-speculator, the estate represents nothing more than capital, from which they try to extract as much interest as possible; they look at the peasants as at a certain kind of beet, which the harder you press, the more juice you get from it. Often the landowner-speculator is ashamed to come to his village, because his uncle was a deacon or a householder there. He then sends a steward, a retired non-commissioned officer or a protocol clerk he knows, to whom he patronizes and whom he brings to the people. Of the landlords who owned Yagodnya for twelve years, two sent managers there, three themselves appeared and personally took care of management. The latter were the worst. Some acted in this way: they did not change the previous system of government, but only doubled the dues; they destroyed the inveterate ones and put them on quitrent; imposed dues on girls and boys over the age of twelve; they married seventeen-year-old boys to increase the number of taxes; it is known that one could take more from the tax, that is, from a husband and wife, than from a girl and a guy. They sold groves for a log house; sold brides from peasant and yard girls, sold livestock. Owning the estate in this way for a year or two, having collected two unbearable quitrents, collecting one more quitrent in advance for the third year, they suddenly sold Yagodnya. Others were ruled by a different system: they destroyed the dues and planted the estate for arable land; land and people knew no rest. The rule appointing so many days to work in the corvee, so many for oneself, was destroyed by itself; people tirelessly worked in the fields, worked at a brick and scrap factory, which suddenly appeared on Yagodnya, drove bricks to sell in the city, plowed, threshed and winnowed, not knowing sleep and peace. Having squeezed the juice out of the land and the peasants, completely ruining the estate, the landowner hastily repaired the wattle fences, covered the roofs, tinted the barns, erected pretty little lattices here and there, and, showing Yagodnya with his face, profitably sold it to another, less experienced of his own brother. The result of these twelve years was that Yagodnya, once reputed to be almost the first village in the county, became the last; the land is depleted, the forests are cut down, the peasants are ruined; many not only didn’t have a cow, they didn’t have a horse or even a chicken in the house. Most of the begging. Savely, however, did not belong to this number. He was poor; where! - there is no trace left of the former well-being! But compared to others, he still managed to get by somehow. In this terrible era of ruin, the peasant still encountered the need to correct the corner of the hut, it was necessary to bring the axle of the cart, to repair the tub; the women needed wooden combs for slacks, spindles, troughs; no one better than Savely could perform such deeds, and at the same time he always got an extra piece of bread for him. In these twelve years, however, much has changed in his domestic situation: the old man and the old woman ordered to live long; but as if in return for such grief, the Lord finally heard his prayers and sent him a son. Savely did not lose heart. Some kind of inner strength—perhaps faith in providence, perhaps the natural need for activity, perhaps both together—reinforced him. He would unbend his back after corvee and, coming home, bend it again, always finding some work at hand. The effect of this was that he ate bread while others begged. Finally, fate took pity on poor Yagodnya. She fell into the hands of a neighboring landowner, a real landowner - a native, as the peasants called him. Other orders immediately went: the estate was received for quitrent not for one that the peasants could not pay, but which could only correct them. On the very first Sunday that followed the merchant, Yagodnya's church was full of people. The old men were on their knees; the women bowed to the icons and wept; everyone prayed and thanked the Creator, who heeded their sinful prayers. The townsfolk of Yagodnya sighed. Savely, of course, sighed with them. But soon a sigh of joy was replaced by a heavy sigh: about this time he lost his wife. They say the truth: there is no joy without sorrow! He wept, Savely mourned, but there was nothing to do, you could not resurrect the dead! It was necessary to start pulling the strap of life somehow. He entrusted his wife's son (the boy was then seven years old) to his wife's relatives, and, having crossed himself, again went to walk around the mills. The case was familiar, handy. At the mills, Savely was still remembered; they thought, of course, that his strength had diminished; they also thought, weaned from the case; took him more for the former glory. At first, Savely himself thought so, but he lived through the spring, he lived through the summer, his shoulders diverged, the old estimate appeared again - and it went on as before, with the difference that now there was more reason and experience in him. Little by little things began to get better again. He gave his land before the time to the husband of a relative who had a son; He not only did not sell his hut, but even tried in every possible way to support it. When the boy was fourteen years old, Savely took him with him and assigned him at first without salary to the mill where he himself took the place of the first worker. Meanwhile, as Saveliy was correcting himself, other inhabitants of Yagodnya were also recovering; but, not having a craft, not gifted with the intelligence and activity that distinguished Savely, they recovered more slowly. Only ten years later, Yagodnya and its inhabitants returned to their former position. These ten years brought great changes in Savely's life; he married his son and by the end of this period he himself moved home to live. He was apparently bored with wandering around in strange places, he wanted to live by his own will, by his house-household; besides, the bones were old, it was time for rest, for rest. So his family and neighbors argued. Savely, presumably, thought otherwise. His strength was definitely spent (he was already close to sixty), the summers weakened his body, but did not calm his spirit and activity. From morning until evening he swarmed in his yard, did not stop hacking, planing, weaving wattle, and not for a minute did his aged hands remain idle. But it turned out that the old man did not like, did not like such petty, peaceful pursuits; he seemed to be bored, he ate little, he could not find a place for himself anywhere. AT free time , and now there was a lot of this (he was already considered intractable, Peter alone sat on a quitrent and paid fifteen rubles), in his free time the old man usually went to the stream, which went around the meadow slope of the village where there was a church, meandered along the valley and fell into the river. At this confluence, once in ancient times, there was a small beater; now only old willows remained of it. The old man's walks were repeated more and more often. Not a single person, not even the son and daughter-in-law, suspected the intentions of the old man. Soon everything was explained; both home and outsiders learned that Savely was with the landowner, offered him to build a mill at his own expense, where there was a former beater, offered to pay thirty rubles a year for it together with his son. So everyone gasped. But there were even more ahs when Saveliy started construction; especially when he paid two hundred rubles for two millstones, and three hundred more for the barn. "Go on!.. - said the people, - who would have thought about this?.. He didn’t show any kind of mind ... But money, how much money! Joke, what capital! .." The capital was, for sure, significant . The mill cost Savely six hundred rubles in banknotes; but that was not all, he still had forty roubles, in reserve. All this, in total, represented a capital of seven hundred and forty rubles in banknotes. Indeed, a terrible sum, if we take into account that it took only some ten years to compile it! Of course, every penny of this capital went to later; to get every ruble, it was necessary to work without straightening your back; but what can labor mean compared to such a huge reward! .. The simple class of the people is generally governed by routine; all sorts of innovations frighten him: he is afraid to go a new way and rarely dares to use money for fishing, for a business that his fathers and grandfathers did not do. The neighbors were not jokingly sorry for him, not jokingly thought that he was crazy. The surrounding millers contributed a lot to this opinion; Saveliy attempted to take the molts away from them: they were annoyed and spread the most unfavorable rumors about his enterprise, they even tried to harm him in a more real way: they sent him to throw mercury into the stream, in order to damage the dam, which was supposed to seep from this) they said that the waters of the stream it is not enough to raise two millstones, that in the spring flood of the river the water will go to the yard and demolish the mill, and so on. But Savely was not such that he began to act at random, headlong. His keen eye had long since spotted the area, his keen mind had calculated all the advantages and disadvantages, long experience had taught him how to prevent them. The matter was too familiar to him, he had used too many years of his life to study it, so that he could be deceived. Rumors and conversations ceased as soon as the locks were raised for the first time, both wheels turned in unison and the millstones began to flutter as quickly as those of the neighbors. Everyone now knows that Uncle Savely’s mill is the most serviceable in its district, even though it is the smallest and stands on a stream, and not on a river: its dam never broke, there was never a shortage of water, it never washed away the ohm of the yard, not once did the youth linger; to all this it should be added that during these three years the young man always left satisfied and in conversations he never praised enough the custom of a small mill: they left it for spraying less flour than the neighbors, they never pulled the grains, the flour was always soft and the queue was always strictly observed - whoever drove in first, fell asleep; not like in other places: he is always right who promised the miller more. Year after year, Savely's millstones got more work; there were no big profits, but it was possible to live; it was good to live! I haven't met, I haven't yet foreseen the need to touch the reserve capital left after the construction of the mill. The money was hidden from everyone in the chest and gladdened the heart of the prudent old man. So it was, at least until the day when Savely got ready for the christening and did the rocking for the newborn granddaughter, the subject of so many expectations and joys.IV. trouble
Poor Andrey from Yagodnya had already ground his sack of rye a long time ago and left the mill; moreover, of the three wagons that arrived so inopportunely then, only one remained; and yet there was no sign of either Pyotr, who had gone to the village with invitations, or Grishutka, who had gone off to get some wine. The time was approaching evening. The sun was setting, increasing with every minute the purple gleam of the hills and distant groves that looked westward; from the east, meanwhile, blue, cold shadows descended; they ran as if from the sun, quickly filled the hollows and spread wider and wider across the meadows, leaving behind them the top of a willow or a roof, which, at the brilliance of the sunset, burned as if engulfed in flames. The wind did not touch a single faded stem, not a single straw on the roof; but even without the wind, the ears and cheeks were strongly tingled. The transparency of the air and the dazzling clarity of the sunset foreshadowed a decent frost for the night; even now in low-lying places, where the shadow thickened, fallen leaves and grass were covered with gray drizzle. The road rang underfoot. For two or three versts one could, it seems, make out the slightest sound: the barking of dogs in remote villages, voices at a neighboring mill, the noise of a plank suddenly thrown onto the frozen ground. But no matter how hard Savely listened, the rattling of the cart was not heard anywhere: Grishutka did not appear. It was also in vain that the eyes of the old man turned to the valley along which the road wound: and Peter did not appear. After standing for about two minutes at the gate, Savely returned to the yard, looked into the barn, exchanged a few words with the clerk, who was finishing the last cart, and again went into the hut. His hut was not large, but it was both warm and cozy in it. On the occasion of cooking for the christening, it was even hot in it; but that's nothing; when it freezes in the yard, one feels a special pleasantness to enter a very heated dwelling. The hut was no different from the other huts: to the right of the door was a stove; a wooden partition, separated from the stove by a small door, rested at the other end against the back wall. Two windows illuminated this first half; the windows looked to the west, and the setting sun hit the partition, the stove, and the floor so hard that the light was reflected under the table and benches, leaving here and there only impenetrable patches of shadow. In the back corner, which is called red, although it is usually the darkest, one could see icons, a copper cast cross, the tips of yellow wax candles, and an awkward cup of thick purple glass; all this was located on two shelves, decorated inside with pieces of wallpaper, outside - with a rough but intricate carving; the style of the carving was the same as on the valances that once adorned the church of Yagodnya; it belonged, presumably, to that time and belonged to the same chisel and axe. The rays of the sun, penetrating the small windowpanes with an iridescent tint, gilded the dust, which passed in two parallel stripes through the entire hut, and rested on a pot of water that stood by the stove; above the cast-iron, in the dark, smoky ceiling, a bright spot trembled, which the children call "mouse." A cat and four tabby kittens were playing nearby. In the second half, behind a partition, opposite the stove, there was a bed covered with straw and covered with felt, on which Peter's wife lay. A cradle hung under her arm, attached to the end of a pole fixed in the ceiling; the baby was lying, however, not in the cradle, but beside the mother. There was also a cupboard with crockery, two trunks, and a wide bench, which Palagea, busy at the stove, filled with loaves, pots, and pies. Behind this partition it was both cramped and stuffy. There was also a window, but a ray of sunlight, meeting many corners and projections, clinging now to the cradle, now to the edge of the bench, now passing along the row of pies, thickly browned with egg yolk, produced a terrible variegation here; the eye rested only on the upper part of the bed, which was immersed in a soft yellowish half-light, where the head of the puerperal and the baby sleeping beside her rested. - Ah yes frost! Wraps up nicely! - Savely said, entering the hut and rubbing it with his palms, which resembled the crust of old tree stumps. - If it stays like that for two days, perhaps the river will become ... Ek, they fried it! - he said, turning around the partition, - as if in a bathhouse, really, in a bathhouse! .. Only now the spirit is different: it smells of pies! her great tenderness), I don’t know what to do with our fellows: oh, now I can’t see it! And it would be high time, it seems ... - They will come, father, - Marya answered in a weak voice. - Here is something to scatter with the mind! - Palagea smartly fit in, rattling at the same time with her fork, - one must not have found the owners. Came: "At home?" - asks. "Gone," they say; he sat down to wait for him, or went to look for him ... Another is sitting in a tavern; maybe there are a lot of people - he waits until the kisser releases the others; we know: the guy is small, he won’t shout down the big ones; he came after, but the first one took ... - Well, no, not like that! Shuster, u-u-u-shuster! - interrupted the old man, shaking his finger at some imaginary object, - I suppose he won’t let himself be offended, for nothing small! .. I don’t think about that at all; I think: the boy is very good, he wouldn’t mess up there ... Well, yes, he’ll come, we’ll ask, we’ll ask. .. - he added, as if hushing up his speech and approaching the bed of the puerperal. - Well, dear sleepy, how can you, huh? - Nothing, father, God is merciful ... - All of you ... for example, do not listen to me! .. That's what ... - What is it, father? - And if you like in that ... you take a lot of work ... by golly! At first, it’s not good like that ... After all, he deliberately made a pitch for a small one. No, you keep him by your side, you keep busy with him; Well, God have mercy, you'll still fall asleep somehow ... How long before trouble! - And-and, killer whale, - interrupted Palageya, - Christ is with you! The Lord is merciful, he will not allow such a sin! - No, it happens! It happens! Savely picked up in a tone of conviction. - After all, it happened: Vyselovsky Martha fell asleep as a child! .. If not this, all the same, another case may come out: she falls asleep, kittens pick up somehow, the face of the baby, Christ be with him! scratched ... Well, what good! You, women, do not understand in any way! After all, he deliberately made a pitching, deliberately hung it beside the bed: the baby cried - just stretch out your hand, or, if you can’t handle it, Palagea will give ... Again, now another reasoning: isn’t it easier for him to lie in a cradle than on a bed? .. He , of course, he won’t say, and everyone sees that it’s calmer in the cradle! On purpose for peace of mind and done ... The old man bent down to the baby. - Agu, father, agu! - he said, shaking his gray hair and somehow wrinkling comically. - Hey, mother-in-law... give it to me, right... let me put him in the cradle... Well, why is he here? Did you feed him? - Fed, father ... - Well, okay! .. Come on, killer whale, come on! said the old man, raising the child, while both women looked at him silently. The child was as red as a freshly baked crayfish, and for the time being represented a piece of meat wrapped in white swaddling clothes: nothing was good; for all that, Savely’s wrinkles somehow parted sweetly, his face grinned, and such a feeling of joy played in his eyes, which he did not experience even when he successfully dammed the mill for the first time, when it was put into operation, when he cheaply bought his millstones ... Come on, judge after that how the human soul is arranged, and on what his joys are sometimes based! Holding the child in his arms with such a look, as if mentally estimating how much weight he had, the old man carefully laid him in the cradle. - Well, why not calmer? he exclaimed smugly, stepping back. - How can it not be quieter? .. Look: as if in a boat ... Evna! - he added, setting the cradle slightly in motion, - evna! Evna how! .. - Oh, you're an entertainer! Entertainer! meanwhile old Palagea was saying, leaning her elbow on the end of her grip and shaking her head, “really, the entertainer! .. During these last explanations, the noise of an approaching cart was heard; but Savely spoke loudly, Palageya rattled her grip, the daughter-in-law's attention was absorbed by the child and the chatter of her father-in-law; so that no one noticed the noise from outside, until at last the cart drove up almost to the very gate. - And here is Grishutka! - said the old man. At that moment, such desperate cries and cries were heard from the yard that the feet of those present for a second rooted to the ground. Savely rushed headlong out of the hut. Peter held the horse by the bridle and sadly led it into the yard; in the cart next to Grishutka sat a man with a thin, but purple and pockmarked face, in a high ram's hat and a blue sheepskin coat tightly tied with a belt. Savely recognized him as a cordon, retired soldier guarding the border of the neighboring province against smuggling of wine. The old man's heart skipped a beat. The cordon guard held Grishka by the collar, who roared at the top of his voice and said, sobbing bitterly: - By God, I didn’t know! .. Let go! .. Golden, let go! .. Father, I didn’t know! .. Golden, I didn’t know! Grishutka's face was swollen with tears; they flowed in streams from half-closed eyes and dripped into his mouth, which was gaping unreasonably, probably from an excess of sighs and sobs that crushed him. The procession was closed by a youth, who remained to finish the last cart; It was a small black man's peasant, a very prominent, fussy look; however, as soon as he saw Savely, he jumped forward, waved his arms and, terribly wide-eyed, shouted in a voice torn with zeal: They took it with wine! .. - I got caught with wine! .. - Pyotr repeated sadly. - How?.. Oh, my God! Savely said, stopping in bewilderment. The noise in the passage and Palagea's voice made him turn around. Marya rushed forward onto the porch, so that Palagea could hardly hold her back; the young woman's face was pale, and she was trembling all over from head to toe; seeing her little brother in the hands of a stranger, she screamed and swayed. - Where! Don't let her in... Peter, hold her!.. Oh, you, merciful creator! Take her away as soon as possible! .. - Savely exclaimed. Peter rushed to his wife and, with the help of Palagea, took her to the hut. At this time, the cordon jumped off the cart. - Are you the boss here? Did you send for wine? he asked, turning to the old man, who could not come to his senses. - I, father ... - Caught with wine! .. Eco deal! Oh! Got it! Have taken! - the dark-skinned peasant hastened to explain, again using his eyes and hands. - Exactly, father, caught! - said Pyotr, appearing on the porch and quickly descending into the yard. Savely hit himself with his palms on the skirts of his sheepskin coat and shook his head with a contrite look. - Uncle... I didn't know... I didn't know, uncle!... - Grishutka started sobbing. - The millers of Mikulin taught... They said: that tavern is closer... - Who sent for wine? Are you? the cordon guard repeated again, looking insolently at Savely. We sent! - Peter answered, because the father only shook his head and beat himself with his palms on his sheepskin coat. - Who are you? - asked the cordon Petra. - I am his son ... I, father, - Peter picked up, - I met with them, as they drove up to our gates ... - Just now I met! - intervened again a little pomolets, - drove up, - he's here! Look: and I came up! Eco deal! .. - You'll tell about it later, - the cordon interrupted. - Here he sent for wine, - it became, he will answer ... What robbers! - he added, getting excited, - his tavern is at hand ... no, you have to send it to another! .. - I didn’t know anything! .. They taught me at the mill ... - said Grishutka, shedding tears. - Shut up! - said Peter. The boy put his hand to his mouth, leaned his forehead against the cart, and roared louder than before. - Yes, what is it, father ... How is it? - Savely said, impatiently waving his hand in response to the youngster, who blinked, tugged at his sleeve and made some mysterious signs. - Got caught with wine - and that's it! - the cordon objected. - I got caught in our village as soon as I left the tavern; Our headman still had some wine left, and they put a seal on the cask there. - The seal has been applied! They sealed it! .. - Grishutka desperately cried out. - That's bad! - Shouted the youngster, coming all in motion. - They'll drag you, grandfather, they'll drag you!.. Blast your eyes - they'll drag you! - interrupted the cordon. - It is known, they will teach a lesson! You will know how to go to a foreign province for wine! It is said: do not dare, not ordered! No, get in the habit, damned! We are waiting for an attorney; they'll hand him over, they'll tell him about everything... Tomorrow they'll bring him to court... Up to the present moment, Saveliy only beat his sheepskin coat with his hands and shook his head with the air of a man put in the most difficult situation; at the word "judgment" he raised his head, and a color suddenly played in his embarrassed features; even his neck turned red. The word "judgment" also seemed to have an effect on Grishutka; while the last explanations were going on, he stood with his mouth open, into which tears continued to drip; now he again leaned his forehead against the cart again and again filled the yard with desperate sobs. Peter shifted on the spot and did not take his eyes off his father. - They called trouble! Here's a sin they did not look forward to! said the old man at last, looking around at those present. He still wanted to add something, but suddenly changed his mind and walked with quick steps to a small gate that overlooked the stream. - Listen, good man!.. Hey, listen! - he said, stopping at the gate and nodding to the cordon officer, - come, brother, here ... Just a few words! .. The crimson face of the cordon took on a preoccupied look; he went to the gate, showing that he did it reluctantly - so, only out of condescension. “Listen, good man,” Savely began, leading him to the pond, “listen,” he said, shaking his lips, “listen! Isn't it possible how ... huh? - It's about what? - he asked in a more relaxed tone and as if trying to understand the words of the interlocutor. - Do such a favor, - begged the old man. - As long as I live in the world, there was no such sin. The main reason, the boy got caught! Everything came out through him... Loosen up somehow... huh? Hey, good man! .. - Now it is impossible, in no way, that is, in a manner ... The seal was applied! Besides, the case was in front of witnesses ... it's impossible ... - Do me a favor, - the old man continued, dissatisfied this time with pleading with his voice, but still using pantomime and convincingly spreading his trembling hands. The gray, roguish eyes of the cordon rushed to the barn, beyond which the voices of Peter and the benefactor were heard; after that he retreated a few more steps from the gate. - Listen, good man! - picked up the encouraged Savely, - take me for the troubles ... but is it possible how it is something ... for example ... Is it possible to loosen ... right! .. Kordonny straightened his sheepskin hat, scratched the bridge of his nose index finger and thought for a second. - Will you give me twenty rubles? he asked, lowering his voice. Savely was so taken aback that he only opened his mouth and leaned back. - You can't do less! - calmly persuasive tone picked up cordon. - Consider: now you need to give it to the headman in the village, you need to give it to the peasants who were witnesses, you must also give it to the kisser; if you don’t give it, they’ll tell the attorney about everything - it’s without fail, you know yourself: what a people these days! .. Well, count: how much will I get out of twenty rubles? Our business is this: we, brother, are then appointed to a position; how, they will say, you caught with wine, concealed it from the office, and took it from the peasant! .. Through this, I must remain a scoundrel before the authorities! From that you bother, so that there is something from ... - Twenty rubles for a bucket of wine! - the old man uttered, again flushing up to the very neck, - Listen, uncle, - the cordon officer said peacefully, - don't shout, - it's not good! We did not come to that here; he said: if you want to make peace, so do it, but the fact that shouting is not good. I say to my heart, right, you will give more if they are presented to the court: they will take one wine from you three times; so according to the law you will give twelve rubles for wine! Yes, in court you will quarrel for how long ... The old man listened and looked at the ground; now, more than ever, he seemed to be overwhelmed by the incident. - Eco business! Eka attack! he repeated, smacking his lips, shaking his head, and spreading his arms hopelessly. “Father,” Peter suddenly said, appearing at the gate, “come here!” Savely hastily hobbled over to his son. He signaled him to turn around the corner of the barn. There stood a little fellow, who, as soon as the old man appeared, was again filled with speed. “Listen, uncle,” he began hastily, grabbing the old man by the sleeve and expressively winking at him at the gate, “listen: don’t give him anything, spit!” Spit, I say! Besides him, everyone saw it! We saw how the little one got caught! There was business with the people! Give it to him - nothing will happen, rumors will reach, everything is unique! Spit! No matter how much you give, everyone will demand it in court: this is the case, it was with the people; rumors will reach; everything is unique! Wants to deceive!.. Spit, I say! The little man hurriedly jumped back, hearing footsteps behind the gate. The cordon officer seemed to have guessed what was being discussed behind the barn. He was finally convinced of this when he called the old man, and instead of going to him, he thoughtfully continued to look at the ground. never happened - we can fall through this abyss ... Everyone protects himself: it's such a thing! Tomorrow they will introduce him to an attorney, you ask him ... A sort of people! It is said: do not go to someone else's tavern - no! Now scout out!.. What about me?.. I can't. Ask an attorney! The last words were spoken outside the gates. The cordon straightened his cap and, muttering something under his breath, quickly walked along the road. “He must have heard what we were talking about here ...” all his quickness suddenly returned, “of course, he heard, or guessed, everything is the only one!” He sees: there is nothing to take, he did not talk! How much did you ask, uncle? How? - Twenty rubles! .. - Oh, he, sewn mug! Hey robber! Oh you! - exclaimed the peasant, rushing somehow at once in all directions, - twenty rubles! Come on! .. Ek, waved! Ah, the beast! These kissers, there are none worse! The most that there are scammers ... soul out! By God! Oh, you embroidered mug, come on! .. Oh, he! .. Savely did not pay any attention to the words of the benefactor; he did not take his eyes off the ground and seemed to be meditating with himself. He had never felt so upset before. This is perhaps because in all his life he has never been so calm and happy as in the last three years, when he built a mill and lived on his own, with his son and daughter-in-law. - Eco business! he said at last, in a voice which showed that the mode of his reflections was the most bleak. - They did not look forward to grief! They really didn’t look forward to it! .. Pomolets started again and already grabbed him by the sleeve, but Savely only waved his hand, turned away and, with a slow, burdened step, wandered into the hut.V. Explanations. - Hope. - Effects
- About five minutes later the old man appeared on the porch again. - Gregory! he shouted, looking around with a displeased look. - Gregory! he repeated, raising his voice. Grishka did not respond. "It must be somewhere behind the barn," replied Pyotr, who began to unharness his horse. - Take away the horse, call him to me, - Savely said, leaving again for the hut. Unharnessing his horse, Peter called the boy several times; there was no answer. Pyotr led his horse and casually looked in at the barn door. - What, ay small something there? Is it an escape? inquired the little fellow solicitously, grinning his teeth, which were almost as white now as his flour-smeared face, “did the old man call at all?” How not to get angry! Angry! Vish nabedal how ... he got us! So, you got frightened... collapsed somewhere... You'll be frightened!... You'll turn your tail!... Come on, I'll look; why? You can search! .. Let's go. Peter, meanwhile, was leading the horse to a cage attached to the back of the sheds; the obliging peasant followed him, trying to hit him in the leg and every minute grabbing him by the sleeve, as if wanting to draw Peter's attention to every corner, crevice, where, in the opinion of the peasant, the boy should certainly sit. Both of them entered the cage. - Here! Here he is! Got it! Got it! I'm holding! the youngster shouted at the top of his voice, grabbing Grishutka, who was standing still, huddled face down in the corner. - See see! Well, why are you screaming? - said Peter. Encouraged by Peter's words and voice, Grishutka, dumbfounded at first with fear, suddenly screwed up his eyes, opened his mouth and burst into a plaintive cry. - Well, what are you crying about? About what? said Peter. Come on, father is calling. Oh, you stalker! Stramnik! .. Really, such a Stramnik! - Flogged, it's like it is! And-and cut! - he picked it up, moving his hands and eyes, praying, - how not to carve? It's necessary, don't indulge! .. - None of this will happen, - said Pyotr, - the old man, Grishutka, will not do anything, he will only ask ... Don't be afraid! Don't you know?.. Don't cry, otherwise it's worse... - he added, taking the somewhat comforted boy by the hand. A black little peasant accompanied them to the very porch; he probably would have gone further, but he remembered that the rye was running out in a box, and ran headlong into the barn. Savely was behind the partition, where his daughter-in-law lay. "Come here," he said to the boy, who was staring like a bull at the ground and puffing up with all his urine to keep from crying. - Well, look, look! - said the old man, turning to his daughter-in-law, - you see, nothing has been done to him! They didn't shackle me, didn't take me to prison... I'm whole, you see! There was plenty to get rid of, to run into the cold. .. as if she was crazy, really! .. If only she could think of herself, of a child ... Otherwise: she ran out into the cold in vain, all opened up; Well, is there any reason? And is he worth it to lament about him? .. Such a mischievous one! .. Come here, ”the old man said, turning again to the boy and going out into the first half of the hut. - Why did you go to someone else's tavern, huh? Didn't I tell you where to go? tell me... huh? It was revealed from the boy’s explanations (his voice sounded so sincere that it was impossible not to believe him, and, finally, all his words later came true), it was revealed that the eldest sons of the owner of the Mikulin mill, the same one that was visible in the distance, were responsible for everything that happened. Meeting Grishka at the dam, they asked where he was going; he said; they assured him that the tavern, where Uncle Savely sent him, was now locked; the kisser left with his wife for his sister's wedding and will return only tomorrow; they said that it was all the same, wine could be taken in another tavern, that that tavern was even closer than the first one, that the wine there was even better than an example, and that Uncle Savely would say thanks again. Grishutka believed and went. He swore and called all the saints to witness that he did not take off his hat all the way; leaving the tavern, he safely went on his way back, but when leaving the village a cordon ran into him, they seized him, took him to the headman and took away his wine. Having reached the place where the seal was applied to the cask, the narrator stopped and again burst into bitter tears, as if in this very sealing of the cask all the misfortune consisted. But Savely did not listen to him anymore. He even looked the other way. He was dully silent and only, from time to time, annoyedly shook his gray hair, uttering reproaches, which, however, applied more to the Mikulin miller and his sons. It would be time for them, it seems, to enter into conscience! Time to leave him alone! What more do they want from him? Did he put his mill on the river? Did he interrupt their water? They have a grain mill with seven supports, they work all year round, they produce thousands! Is it really not enough for them?.. Is it possible that envy takes, and they did not harm him enough?.. The rich, they have grits, they make thousands, and they envy some kind of beater with two wheels! They drink tea, they eat grainy kalachi, and envy the crumbs of a poor person? Rich people, merchants, and what shameful deeds they indulge in! The boy will be taught to go to a strange tavern in order to bring his parents into trouble! Under the influence of such considerations, spiced up with the thought that the deal with the barrel would not be in vain, Uncle Savely became grouchy and uncommunicative. In these last three years, since the mill was settled, none of the household had seen him so gloomy, dissatisfied. At supper, where the old man was usually so talkative, he scarcely said a few words. He sent Pyotr to settle accounts with the youth and first of all collapsed on the stove. Peter, his wife and old Palageya, talking about tomorrow They thought, however, that perhaps tomorrow the old man's heart would somehow disperse. Their assumptions were justified. The dawn of the next morning showed them that Savely's face was no longer the same as the day before; his forehead, it is true, wrinkled, but the wrinkles expressed more fussiness than a gloomy mood of the spirit. He immediately sent Peter for wine; against all expectations, he did not even show great annoyance, counting out the following four rubles; once or twice he only shook his lips and grunted. The arrival of the godfather and godfather, the trip to church, the rite of baptism, the return home - all this noticeably amused the old man. Guests arrived, congratulations and treats went. It was not without, of course, not to mention the trouble that had happened that evening; but the conversation on this subject, thanks to the glasses of wine that the interlocutors had already managed to pass, took on such a confused character, so often interrupted by all kinds of exclamations and outbursts of laughter, that it had no effect on the disposition of the aged host. In general, the baptismal dinner was fun. Saveliy, who was sitting between the godfather Dron and the matchmaker Stegney, laughed even louder than they did when, towards the end of the meal, the old Palagea suddenly jumped out from behind the partition and, snapping her fingers, began to grab some outlandish knees. The good disposition of the old man was not interrupted even on the next day. He was still sleeping when seven carts of rye drove into the yard. One thing could possibly worry the old man a little: the granddaughter, who was so calm, suddenly began to scream for no reason at all; At the same time, he also learned that Marya complained strongly of a headache. It could easily have happened that she caught a cold when she ran out onto the porch when Grishka was brought in; but why would a child cry? Why shouldn’t he take breasts?.. In vain Palageya assured that all children cry on the second day, that the granddaughter’s cry may also be due to the fact that the mother’s breast is simply not in the hunt, and it will be better if they give him a horn; but her words were lost, it seemed, in vain. The old man shook his head and pressed his lips. It was necessary, however, to turn to the case; not every day there are seven pilgrims at the mill! For two days in a row there was no end to the youth; the millstones worked without rest, and flour dust did not cease to swirl over the barn. On the day of the christening and the day that followed, Savely did not pass Grishka, so as not to wag his finger at him or stop, leaning on his hips, and say to him: "Oh, I have you ... Oh! .. Look! .." But now all this is past; he called him Grishutka, Grinka and Grishakha; in a word, everything went back to the old way, until unexpectedly, on the fourth day after the baptism, the Sotsky appeared in the morning. He was a bailiff. This circumstance overturned the peaceful flow of thoughts in Savely's head. There was a reason, however. It turned out that Saveliy received "paper" in the camp for the illegal transportation of wine from a foreign province. Stanovoi ordered him to report immediately to the camp's apartment. Sotsky had long been familiar to Savely; there were questions and inquiries. Sotsky said that the matter, in fact, was not of great importance; you only have to pay; but how much he would have to give, he did not positively know. “That’s right,” croaked Sotsky, who was a perfect likeness of a mushroom wrapped in a stunted overcoat, the same color and as wrinkled as his face, “they will take money from you, according to the situation, that’s for sure; the main reason, ask Nikifor Ivanovich (that was the name of the officer), ask him not to bring him to court: you will have to thank, not without it, that's for sure; most importantly, do not poke your head without money, take the money; required; better give, immediately solve the matter, cut off; if they start to carry it, it will cost more, unlike more expensive, that's for sure ... During this explanation, Peter stood about three steps away and looked anxiously at his father, who beat himself on his sheepskin coat and generally showed the greatest anxiety. Grishka, who had disappeared at the first appearance of the Sotsky, meanwhile was sitting in the darkest corner of the cell; he was neither alive nor dead. But no one thought about him; it was not before him at all. The cart was laid down in an instant. While Peter, on the orders of his father, was sleeping the martyrs of Sotsky, Savely got dressed. He did not listen, however, did not take the money from the sotsky. He wanted first to thoroughly clarify all the circumstances, to make sure whether a matter of such importance was true, as it seemed from fear, whether the court would definitely step into such a trifle. “What is it that the boy has misunderstood as a tavern?” he reasoned. “Is anyone denying this? It's better to go home once more, get how much money you need, than to take it with you... turn away, they will take it, because such an article will be suitable ... "So the old man reasoned with himself, trying in every possible way to encourage himself; meanwhile, his hands trembled, and anguish and anxiety came under his heart. He drove the sotsky to Yagodnya and rushed straight to the guard's quarters. Stanovoi left for the city and could not return before two days. Savely found out, moreover, that there was no clerk either. Only the clerk remained, but the latter could not give any explanation regarding the matter; he advised the old man to go to the city and report to the police officer as soon as possible. Having fed the horse, Saveliy went to the city that same evening. It was considered thirty versts from the camp to the city, he wanted to be in time there before light the next morning. The thoughts that wandered in the old man's head were of such a nature that, of course, they could not entertain him in a pleasant way. All the way his face kept a preoccupied, thoughtful expression; not once did it brighten up with that good-natured smile that again seemed to settle on his lips. However, the time itself has changed now, contrary to how it was in last days. Loose, heavy clouds covered the sky; the day before, at this very time, the fields were still brightly illuminated by sunset - now twilight was setting in; the distance was already beginning to disappear, obscured by a thick, bluish darkness. The overcast sky looked unfriendly, dull; it was gray and bare in the neighborhood. There was also a great change in the air; instead of the dry frosty freshness that blushed the cheeks and pleasantly tickled the nostrils, now a soft, but strong, gusty wind was blowing. In the murky depths of the gathering twilight, one could hear the rustling of the groves. Dry leaves, whirling and rustling, swept past; a lagging leaf sometimes fell on the road and, as if not daring to set off alone into the gloomy expanse of a deaf field, rolled along the road for a long, long time, until finally it met new comrades who picked it up and again carried it further ... In some places on the way came across streams and rivers; three days ago the frost covered them with an ice crust, and it was safe to hold on to it; water was now seeping in from everywhere, and ice was settling. It was impossible to wait, however, bad weather. The time for rain and mud is long gone. The loose clouds and the softness of the air foreshadowed something else: from minute to minute it was necessary to expect snow; snow, as they say, hung overhead. Savely drove all night. It was already six o'clock when, through the thinning darkness, at last the city churches appeared, scarcely touched by the pale morning dawn.VI. cat and mouse
The city, where Savely was not slow to enter, was considered - and quite rightly - one of the most significant of our county towns. At one time they even thought of making it provincial. It sprawled along the bank of a large, navigable river; several thousand ships were loaded here every year, carrying rye, oats and wheat to Moscow and Nizhny. Most of the inhabitants were engaged in wholesale grain trade. It was impossible to take ten steps on any street without passing by a storehouse, decorated on the outside with a bench with a checkerboard painted in the middle, on which the owners with gray, black and red beards sat. Many of these beards had millions. The city grew rich and prospered from year to year. All this did not interfere, however, with the fact that the stagecoach office could not establish itself in the city. The office settled down beautifully, the carriages were excellent; the price for the seats was the most moderate: from the city to Moscow they took only four rubles. But the honorable merchants found it more profitable to ride with free drivers who kept wagons arranged in such a way that, if necessary (and there was always a need), three people could fit on the goats and five people in a matting bag attached to the back of the body. . Last Places cost one ruble. The poor empty stagecoaches watched with contrite hearts as the venerable merchant class plunged into sacks, galloped upside down to Moscow, and, nibbling on the cod, looked slyly at them. The office could not long fight against such a dangerous competition: the canvas bags won, and the stagecoaches soon closed. At about nine o'clock Savely went to look for the police officer; he was at his apartment, but they said that Nikifor Ivanovich had gone to the district court. county and zemstvo courts were placed in a large two-story house, looking at the cathedral and distinguished by the whiteness of the outer walls. The county court was on the second floor. Climbing up the stairs, Savely entered the dark hallway, which seemed even blacker from the many overcoats hanging on the walls. There were quite a lot of men standing here, even women came across. As soon as Savely entered, one of the women immediately turned to him and, wiping her tears, said: - Father ... breadwinner, have mercy! .. My husband is a warrior, I have not heard of him for a year; I don't know if he's alive or dead... She was with the company commander, sent here, the breadwinner... - What do you want? Savely asked impatiently. - Father, they don’t say anything about her husband ... A paper came here about him, - but they don’t say ... I asked! asked, - they ask for a five-kopeck piece; they don’t say without it ... But I don’t have anything, breadwinner; I came, father, forty miles ... have mercy, will you help? .. - How, I have a lot! The thing is, maybe yours is worse ... - Savely said, frowning his forehead and not paying attention to the neighbors who bared their teeth. He gave her, however, a penny, and, in order to save himself from further persecution, squeezed forward to the door. In the middle of the second room, surrounded by tables, at which about ten people crackled with a pen, stood, spreading his legs, a fat gentleman with an embroidered collar and thick hands clasped behind the tails; Puffing out his lips in a peevish way, knitting his eyebrows, he reluctantly listened to some fair-haired man who whispered in his ear, squirmed terribly and was all blurry, melted and touched. The gentleman with the embroidered collar was apparently bored; his eyes, with inflamed whites, wandered about; they stopped at the door at the very moment Savely's white head poked out of the crowd. - What do you want? - his gentleman with an embroidered collar asked in a thick bass, obviously with the sole purpose of amusing himself. Savely said that he was, in fact, here to see Nikifor Ivanych, who, so he was told, was here. - Nikifor Ivanovich! boomed the stand-up collar, turning heavily on his heel and not paying any attention to the fair-haired man, who continued to cling to his ear and, as before, flickered, melted, mumbled and whispered something tenderly. A voice and someone's quick steps were heard in the next room; a second later, Nikifor Ivanovich appeared at the door - a young, round, ruddy-faced man, and of a very condescending appearance. Savely took two steps and bowed. - What do you say? - the guard asked affectionately, threw his hands behind the tails and began to pump from socks to heels and back. Savely said that they sent for him, and handed over his case to him. - I know, I know, - the guard interrupted, - so, brother, are you caught? Good goose! Your case is no longer with me, it came here to the police officer; I, in fact, then called you into the camp, so that you would immediately come here. Encouraged by the gentle look of the officer, Savely began to ask if he could somehow intervene, weaken him. “What, brother, don’t you understand, do you? I say in Russian: the case about you has already been received by the police officer; I can't do anything here; ask the police officer, or, what is better: go to the farmer, ask him; he, fortunately for you, arrived in town yesterday; ask him, but I can't do anything. Savely listened to all this, hanging his head and crumpling his cap in his hands. The lively sharpness and susceptibility of the spirit, which years could not overcome, now seemed to have been abandoned. His mind, which so quickly figured out the dimensions of the wheels in relation to the amount of water, so cunningly invented gears and all sorts of improvements in dams, so deftly applied the most imperceptible circumstance to the success of milling and carpentry, now did not give him any explanation and advice. “Grishutka was caught with wine, that’s for sure; it’s forbidden by law to take wine in a foreign county or province, that’s true; the police officer called him on this occasion; it turns out that the case has already passed to the police officer; why to the police officer? Is it really so important this business and will he be tried? to go to the tax-farmer... it is necessary... Well, how does he hold the police officer's hand? In these rooms, in front of these writing people, in front of these gentlemen in bright buttons, he felt as if on another planet, in another world, he felt completely alienated, destroyed, depressed, without strength, without will and reason. No, here it’s not like on Yagodny Street, where everyone was an equal, everyone was ready to listen to him, everyone almost needed him on occasion; here it is not like in the mills, where everything seemed to him so understandable and clear; here no one needs wheels, dams, advice about millstones, crowds and tackles; here they don't give a damn about all this, and what is required here is something completely different ... Timidity involuntarily crept into the old man's soul; the gentle treatment of the police officer only cheered him up for a moment. As soon as Nikifor Ivanovich disappeared, two or three peasants approached Savely with questions, but he did not answer; he hurriedly went out onto the stairs, put on his hat, then took it off, crossed himself twice, and, descending into the street, asked where to go to the farmer. The farmer's house was familiar to everyone in the city; Savely had only to turn his question to the first person in order to find out the way. In addition, the house was not far from government offices; it was a large stone building, one side facing a spacious courtyard, surrounded by wooden sheds and other buildings. Savely found about thirty people in the yard; they all obviously belonged to the house; who rolled barrels, who stuffed hoops, who carried sacks of malt. Opposite one of the buildings, which was closer to the house, stood an unharnessed carriage, near which a coachman in a black plush Cossack fussed. The farmer, indeed, had just arrived the day before. He dropped in here once or twice a year when he passed through the province, which he kept at the mercy of. For such cases, several rooms were left in the house, hired, in fact, for the office. The farmer lived with his family either in Moscow or in St. Petersburg; and here and there he had own houses; moreover, in the vicinity of both capitals he had dachas decorated with fabulous splendor. All this arose suddenly, as if by the wave of a magic wand. The luxury of Pukin (that was the name of the farmer) had long since penetrated through rumors to the county town, where he had arrived the day before. Many of the inhabitants of the county visited Pukin in Moscow and St. Petersburg; returning home, for whole weeks they talked about nothing more than about the decoration of Pukin's rooms, about his dinners, horses, solid mirrored windows, carved ceilings and about that incredible wealth that allowed him to throw money like sand. It is clear that the arrival of such a person must always make an impression in the county town. In the interval of three or four days of Pukin's stay officials and many of the private inhabitants scarcely left the farmer's house: they drank tea at his place, ate breakfast, dined, played cards, and dined. So it was now. While Savely was entering the courtyard of the office, Pukin was having guests. The early hour of the morning did not allow the company to be numerous; it consisted so far of the police chief and the mayor. Both were sitting with the owner of the house in a large hall that looked out onto the courtyard. There was also the manager of the office and two attorneys, but the latter did not belong to society - there is nothing to count them; the first stood at some distance in a sort of obsequious stupor, the other two stuck in the doorway, keeping on their faces an expression of reverent tenderness. One should not, however, think that the appeal of the police officer and the mayor was distinguished by a special familiarity; the difference between the former and the latter was almost that the former stood while the latter sat. It couldn't even be otherwise. To begin with, Pukin was a benefactor of the mayor: he secured a place for him, placed his children, helped build a house after a fire, once gave two thousand rubles, which were missing from some official report, and thereby saved his protege from disgrace and death. The mayor clearly understood that it might turn out that the benefactor acted for a reason; he understood this, but, for his part, he climbed out of his skin, wanting to prove his gratitude to Pukin: he allowed the taverns to be kept open until one in the morning and even all night, concealed all the cases that happened in these shelters, and so on and so forth. For all that, the measure of beneficence still exceeded expressions of gratitude, and the mayor could not consider Pukin an ordinary person. As for the police chief, he embarrassed himself before the farmer, completely unselfishly; he knew that Pukin was too accustomed to flattery and subservience to be able to drive up to him in such ways. The police officer simply could not overcome his feelings of involuntary timidity and surprise at the sight of a man who made millions out of nothing and threw money like sand. Pukin aroused, however, surprise and not such good-natured people as the police officer. Some were surprised at his genius, others were struck by his boundless stupidity; most remarkable of all, both were absolutely right. - Protege - a person who enjoys someone's patronage in getting a job, in promotion, etc.(fr.) Pukin's genius consisted in the following: no more than fourteen years ago he served on errands and, as they said, corrected even the lowest positions with the farmer Sandaraki, who also managed to make millions and now bears the name of Sandarakin. Pukin liked it, got a position as an attorney, then remotely, and finally got into the office managers. Whether happiness contributed to this, or Pukin already disposed of it, but in two years the county under his administration gave Sandaraki twice as much as before. Pukin's ingenuity was amazing; it surprised even Sandaraki, who himself had gone through fire, water and copper pipes and had not been surprised at anything for a long time. Pukin's fame grew among tax-farmers; began to lure him away, but Pukin remained loyal to Sandaraki. The latter gave him a small share in some large enterprise and sent him authorized to his place. It was said in the act that Sandaraki would give the tradesman Pukin two. share; but Pukin contrived to make twenty-two out of two, grabbed an unheard-of jackpot, and then politely bowed to Sandaraki, who had to remain silent: the undertaking was of such a nature that it was obligatory not to reveal secrets. Pukin came out dry and white, like a swan out of water, blossomed, grew up, presented pledges and himself sat down as a farmer. He, they said, was already then in the seven hundred thousand. His business went perfectly, happiness never changed. The tax-farmers only gasped; many, despite Pukin's youth, began to turn to him for advice. Soon Pukin found patrons between strong people. He suddenly went into action so that everyone started talking about him. He now took ten cities at the mercy of him, took entire provinces - and never once broke off. They began to be afraid of him: as soon as Pukin appeared at the rebidding, he was given huge compensation sums so that he would not only increase prices, etc. - in a word, at the age of fourteen, from a man who held low positions at Sandaraki, Pukin became a millionaire. This, according to many, was Pukin's genius. The stupidity of the farmer was based on this: as soon as millions appeared with him (it is known how easily he got them), he imagined himself to be some kind of all-encompassing person; Starting from this point of view on the path of wealth, Pukin immediately became infected with the most exorbitant vanity. Having passed from board to board the whole school of deceit, he now allowed himself to be deceived in the most pathetic way. It cost nothing to two or three scoundrels, driven by obvious calculation, for example, to assure him that he, Pukin, who had never studied anything, was barely literate, was still smarter than all of them; they told him from morning to evening that he had the abilities of a minister, that the eyes of the state were fixed on him, that he, Pukin, was a popular man! Pukin, with all his roguery, sincerely believed everything - he believed it like a simpleton. In his blindness, he talked about Europe, resolved questions of higher politics, expressed judgments about literature, not understanding the terrible comedy of the role that he had assumed. The incense, which was burned by the vile seids and murids who made up his court, resolutely turned Pukin's head. He's obsessed with being popular and being talked about. For this purpose, in fact, he poured such crazy money. As soon as some expensive thing appeared, be it this thing: a house, a horse, a picture, the main thing was that it was expensive and could not afford such and such a count and prince, - Pukin immediately bought it. All for the same purpose, he bought a house in Moscow and finished it magnificently, bought a house in Petersburg and finished it even more magnificently. He bought paintings, bronzes, rarities. Pukin was fully convinced that it was quite enough to know a lot about beer and foam to be able to appreciate works of art; he became a philanthropist, patronized artists; and here, as elsewhere, poured money in the most stupid way. The artists, of course, got away with it: they sold their rubbish to him, getting more for it than for their best paintings. But Pukin did not care, he did not pursue dignity - and it was a sin for him! - he only needs famous name in the picture, many pictures were needed to say: "Pukin's famous gallery!" - that's what he was after. Luxurious life, magnificent dinners, at which very intelligent people were not ashamed to come to eat, drink and then laugh at Pukin - all this, quite naturally, had some effect on the tradesman who was on Sandaraki's errands. From the battered Styopka, tied first with a sheepskin coat, then a coat, then a high-waisted district frock coat, - a gentleman was formed, with a majestic, comically proud posture, a patronizing smile, sagely flaring his nostrils and waving his arms with dignity. He was smugly judging and arguing now about everything, did not tolerate objections and frowned gloomily when something did not go out of his way. This is how he appeared at home, sitting in his velvet armchairs, on the street - in his bekesh or three thousandth fur coat. In fact, he was the same Styopka, the same steward of the drinking house, but only in beavers instead of sheepskin, and now looking out not from the tavern, but from the carriage, or from the window of a luxurious house, in which each brick was presented to the imagination as a bucket of foam, heavily diluted water... But we seem to have talked enough about Pukin. so that it would be worthwhile to expand on his appearance. Suffice it to say that Stepan Petrovich Pukin deigned to dine tea, get dressed and dignifiedly walked around the hall, arousing the astonishment of the mayor and police officer and the obsequious reverence of the office manager and two attorneys. He made several turns in this way, when Nikifor Ivanovich, the orderly, appeared at the door of the hall. "I have the honor to appear, sir, Stepan Petrovich!" - said Nikifor Ivanovich cheerfully, taking a few steps forward and holding out his hand to the owner of the house. Such boldness, and even in the camp, apparently, did not please the farmer, he carelessly nodded his head and gave a finger adorned with a rich ring. "Hello," he said dryly. “Something happened again in your camp,” the farmer added curtly, “for the first time I hear that in the same camp, troubles happened so often with us ...” “What is it? asked Nikifor Ivanitch, looking in bewilderment at the mayor and police chief, who shook their heads reproachfully. - Rumors reach me now and then, - continued Pukin, - that in your camp people are constantly caught with smuggled wine. - It is impossible to cope, Stepan Petrovich, - objected the embarrassed camp, - my border camp, enters the neighboring province at an angle; Finally, what should I do? I would be glad that this did not happen ... but it is absolutely not in my power. - I told you, Nikifor Ivanovich! - pronounced the police officer significantly. - Your business is to pursue them, Nikifor Ivanovich - to pursue and pursue! - the mayor said with fervor, releasing a puff of smoke. The mayor was smoking a cigar offered to him by Pukin; smoking it, the mayor flared his nostrils, screwed up his eyes, sweetly inhaled the smoke - in a word, he tried in every possible way to show the owner of the house that he was experiencing indescribable pleasure and bliss. - Sit down! - Pukin said dryly, turning to the orderly and starting to pace again. Hearing a noise outside, he turned his head in that direction and went to the window. Pukin's coachman was chasing some gray-haired old man in the neck, who wanted to explain something to the peasants who were standing right there and rushed forward. - Ask what is there? said the farmer, nodding his head to the two attorneys. Those flew like an arrow; a minute later they returned and, interrupting each other, said that some peasant wanted to see Stepan Petrovich without fail. - Ask him what he wants... or not, bring him here! Pukin said. This time, the office manager himself rushed after the attorneys. They brought in Savely. - What do you want? - Pukin asked, condescending to such a role on some strange whim, characteristic of rich, spoiled people. - This is the same man who ... - began to stand. - What? Pukin interrupted him impatiently. - Which, - Nikifor Ivanovich picked up, - in last time caught with wine. - Exactly so ... your grace ... - stammering, Savely said, - by accident, forgive me, sir ... the Lord will reward you twice ... They say ... now they will demand twelve rubles from me ... forgive me, sir .. the Lord will reward you three times! .. The good-natured old man, who, without joking, seemed to think that Pukin was chasing twelve rubles, tore out an involuntary laugh from the latter; with this laugh he turned to the police chief and the mayor; they also laughed and shrugged their shoulders. “Forgive me... sir... Have mercy!...” Savely repeated in a drooping voice. He felt even more alienated here than even in court, in front of faces with bright buttons. Had the impressions of the day really set the old man up like that, or was he frightened by the attorneys, but an inner voice whispered to him that he now had a terrible strength and will in front of him, a strength and will that crushed everything, before which everything had to yield and bow. Timidity approached his heart and confused his thoughts; he seemed so pitiful, small, crushed, destroyed; crumpling his cap, he did not dare to raise his eyes and heard only the ringing in his ears and the beating of his heart. Meanwhile, some other voice, as if from outside, as if invading the farmer's hall, - a voice, at first quiet, then gradually strengthening, began to walk inside and around the whole office ... The voice grew with every second and acquired more and more more power ... The storm that devastates villages, breaks hundred-year-old oaks, raises sea waves to heaven, carries away roofs and huts like chips - it didn’t seem to roar and rumble like this voice now roared, shaking to the ground, to the last vaults of stone the office building... The sound of the merchant's bass faded and disappeared, like the barely noticeable squeak of a barely noticeable fly... Everything was drowned out by the voice, which, gradually rising, growing stronger and more furiously, covered the noise of the city and spread farther and farther like thunder. .. And clearly, it seemed, clearly for every ear, a voice spoke: “Do not be afraid, Uncle Savely! Do not be shy! Look straight, - boldly and directly look into the eyes of the farmer Pukin! "Be bold, Uncle Savely, be bold! Straighten your back, raise your gray head, look proudly into his eyes! You're not small in front of him, he's dust and crumbs in front of you! You're also a capitalist, Uncle Savely. You have forty roubles, and every penny of your capi the tala is embossed with honest labor and covered with sweat; every penny of his millions is branded a swindler! Which of the two of you is richer? Who?.. Don't be shy, Uncle Savely, don't be shy! Take heart and look directly at Pukin, the farmer, he is dust before you - you are an honest worker, an honest, simple soul! The dust before you is a particle of that mighty, lasting force, in front of which the farmer Pukin with his millions is insignificant, like the most insignificant speck of dust, torn off by the wind from a heap of worthless rubbish! past Savely's ears. Instead of taking courage, he continued to crumple his cap, continued to sweat, not even finding the courage to repeat his excuse. "Forgive me... father! turned to him again. "What's the occasion?" Pukin asked, turning to the manager. "Twenty-seventh, sir!" he objected vividly, goggling his eyes and somehow passionately digging into the chief's face. Pukin raised his eyebrows significantly. "It's impossible to forgive," he said, glancing at Savely, who again twirled his hat, "you all, perhaps, will begin to go to the neighboring province; you must not be taught well, you must be taught! .. Andrey Andreevich," he added, calling the police officer, who rushed at him with all his might, - please, - Pukin picked up, taking the police officer a little to the side, - hold this old man with you; he will pay the prescribed fine, that goes without saying; but you, moreover, keep him under house arrest; they are even more afraid of this than of a fine; it is necessary that the people know that such tricks are not in vain. .. All this time the police officer blinked his eyes, listened attentively and nodded his head approvingly; as soon as Pukin had finished, the police officer turned to Savely, ordered him to go to his apartment and wait there for his return. “It’s impossible, gentlemen, we can’t let such cases pass with impunity!” - Pukin spoke, entering the role of an orator, which he always liked very much. - Some bucket of wine, a hundred, a thousand buckets are nothing for us! You understand, this is not about a bucket of wine, but about the eradication of abuse, violation of order, violation of our decrees! It is said to the people: do not go to a foreign province; he must obey!.. If he does not obey - make him obey!.. And, finally, we seem to have every right to demand obedience in relation to our decisions! We pay millions for such and such a province, such and such a city; I paid, gave money, bought the right - the people should drink from me, and not from another! .. What would that be like? It would be nice to go buyout! Yes, they would not be worth spitting then! It would not be worth dirtying your hands! .. - Pukin continued, glancing smugly at those present, who, with the exception, perhaps, of one guard, remained as if they were listening to the sweetest music. They even beat time with their heads. Meanwhile, Savely was sitting in the yard of the police officer and was waiting for him to appear in order to decide his fate. He waited a long time. After three hours, a rumor spread that the police chief would not be home early: he was staying to dine with the farmer and would spend the rest of the evening there. This news was brought by an old invalid who held the position of a messenger in the office of the police officer. - Where is the peasant who went to the farmer ... You, or what? asked the messenger unexpectedly, glancing at Savely. - I, killer whale ... You were ordered not to let you out of here; stop ordered. - How is it, father ... What is it? .. - Savely said, looking around, as if lost. - So ordered! retorted the messenger, giving no other answer. Only those peasants who, due to the insignificance of their guilt, cannot be put in jail are subject to house arrest in the police officer's apartment; such right is granted to the police officer; but he can carry it out and not lead it - at his own will; he has no desire to keep a stranger in his yard; True, he can force a prisoner to carry water, chop wood, heat stoves, and so on; but the game is not worth the candle. By placing under arrest, the police officer, for the most part, does a friendly favor to the landowner, who asks him about it, not knowing how to deal with a peasant who requires some wit. House arrest is therefore included in private, domestic measures. For a villainous prisoner, this measure is invalid if it is not connected with rods; it costs him nothing to run away - no one looks after him: they will only tell him not to dare to go out anywhere - and nothing more. Savely resigned himself to his fate and decided to patiently wait for the police officer. He was disturbed by the thought of his family: they would say something when they saw that he was not returning; this night will pass - and it will be two days since he left the house. Not a little also crushed his horse, left in the inn. Who will take care of her. Who will provide food? It will be six hours, as she, cordial, has not eaten anything. The old man communicated his worries to another invalid, somewhat younger than the first and, as it seemed, more condescending. The invalid did not deceive his expectations - he seemed to be a good-natured man. He agreed to take the old man out as soon as it was dark, and go with him to the inn; for all this he asked only a dime; he demanded, however, that the prisoner should not resist when the time came to return back. Savely was thus given the opportunity to speak with the owner of the inn; he agreed to keep the horse and feed it. Savely began to lament about his family all the more willingly because nothing entertained him anymore. The police officer came home at night, the next morning he got up late, ordered to tell the petitioners to come tomorrow, and again went to the farmer for the whole day. Anguish, even more persistent than the day before, came to Savely. “What are they keeping him here for? At least they would say what they want? If a fine is required to be paid, he is ready to do it; but what does it mean that they don’t let him out of here? "Now is the time for grinding; Peter alone cannot do it. Besides, being tenacious in the city, one has to feed the horse for nothing, for nothing... losses everywhere, a flaw!.." gray-haired head: longing washed away him, and he did not sit still; he sits for two minutes, hits himself with his palms on the skirts of his sheepskin coat, and again went circling around the police officer's yard. Savely was in such a position when he suddenly came across a benefactor. The benefactor was none other than the clerk, or the chief clerk of the police chief, a man with a slanting left eye and a flux on his right cheek, a scarf tightly tied around. Savely noticed that the clerk passed him twice in the morning and in the afternoon and coughed; but the old man did not pay any attention to this at first, and contented himself with getting up and bowing. In the evening, on the second day, the clerk appeared again, walked around the yard and coughed; this time, however, he stopped, called the old man and said: - Well, old man, you miss it, huh? .. - Your whole soul is exhausted, father. I even lost my bread ... - answered Savely, - if only I could find out when the end of this would be ... It seems that I would give everything just to be released! .. - Well, it's possible ... - said the clerk, blinking a slanting eye, - you can plead ... but without money you can't ... - We, father, will not stand in this; I am ready to give as much as I need... Just loosen it for Christ's sake!.. Relax it, father! "Thirty roubles," the clerk said affectionately. Savely was shaken at the same time, as if someone had given him a cuff in the back. “Thirty roubles,” the clerk continued, straightening the handkerchief that was bandaging his cheek, “it can’t be less; of these, twelve rubles must be paid for wine; then you have to give it to someone else ... they won’t let you out without that! Don't be stingy, old man, oh, don't be stingy! I pity you; after all, it will be worse: they will be kept here for six weeks, perhaps; there, perhaps, they will put them in prison again ... Well, what do you think: once you gave it away, and finished the job; there will be less losses; and I’ll take care of it, I’ll do the job; I say one thing: let's go. - Father! - Savely exclaimed, - I don’t even have that kind of money ... Where can I get them? Where? - Find it somehow, your business! You have a horse here - sell it! I say: give this money - the matter is settled, finished; it's all in our hands! For no amount of money will I want to remain scoundrels; he said: I will do it, it has become possible, therefore I say; we have had such cases; not the first time; I’ll roll it up, I say: give me only the money! .. I had to decide on something: either sit here in painful uncertainty, exposing myself to a flaw, or give the money. Savely thought, and no matter how hard it was, he decided on the latter. The difficulty now was how to get the rumor home and get his son, because Savely did not want to sell his horse for anything. It could be sold to one innkeeper; but he, knowing the position of the seller, will, of course, give for it three times less than the real price. With such thoughts he sat for the third day, when he heard footsteps behind him; raising his head, he saw a younger invalid, who was walking towards him hurriedly. - Old man, they are asking you, - said the invalid, pointing to the gate, - no way did the son come to visit ... Savely rushed headlong to the gate; when he saw Peter, he kissed him three times in joy. - To you, father, - said Peter, looking at his father with restless eyes (he could hardly take a breath, and it seemed as much from inner excitement as from fatigue), - we really miss you very well. .. You won’t stay for a day, the second you won’t, - I went to the camp apartment; from there to here ... I began to ask around the inns - no one knows! Then he attacked our horse ... everyone told me ... - Yes, - Savely interrupted, screwing up his eyes and shaking his gray hairs with bitterness, - he lived a century, nothing like this happened to me ... it happened in my old age! .. It cost a lot it’s a bucket of wine for us! .. More than that confusion! .. How to be ... for sins, apparently, the Lord punishes! .. The old man ran his hand over his eyes and thought. “We, father, also have trouble eating at home,” said Peter, “my boy has fallen ill well ... The old man crossed himself without raising his head. “I don’t know what happened,” Peter continued, “he screams day and night and all night ... he’s even exhausted; only the bones remained!.. Palageya said: your wife’s milk somehow spoiled ... she was very frightened at that time, how Grishka was seized ... she herself said later; Yes, it didn’t fall on the boy for that: he doesn’t even take a horn ... how he is alive, God knows! ! .. They got angry, you know, gentlemen! .. The old man took his son a little aside and told him from word to word the conversation with the clerk; the demand for thirty rubles perplexed Peter no less than his father; but this was so because Peter did not even suspect that they could have such a sum. Upon learning of this, Peter began to beg the old man to give the money. He said that they did not need this money yet; that they live without them by the grace of the creator; that there is plenty of work now and, if God bless, they will make the same amount again. The old man braced himself for a long time, was silent, shrugged his lips; finally told his son where the money was, and ordered him to go home as quickly as possible. Peter's absence lasted almost a whole day; from the city to the mill, even if you go sideways, it was considered forty versts. The horse was badly fed; had to drive slowly; I even had to once again stop at a crossroads and let the poor animal breathe. Finally, Peter appeared. The old man spoke again with the clerk and gave him the required money. The clerk really did not show himself to be a scoundrel; he kept his word. It remains completely unknown how he arranged the matter (one must think that the police officer partly participated in the conspiracy); Savely that same evening received freedom and could go to all four directions. He paid the owner of the inn, let the horse intercept the stern, and, despite the fact that it was already night in the yard (the old man was greatly disturbed by the thought of his granddaughter, who was worse), got into the cart with his son and drove out of the city.VII. Return to the mill
Savely and Peter moved slowly. Snow fell during the night; the unusual softness of the air made it friable and soft; he wrapped himself around the wheels in heaps and weighed down the cart so much that the horse could hardly pull it. Clouds obscured the sky; but the snowy whiteness of the surroundings spread clarity, and the night was not so black as the travelers expected. Nevertheless, the horse often went astray; in some places the road disappeared altogether; Peter and Savely had to break through the first winter path. It was already dawn when they arrived at Yagod-nu. They turned to their godfather Drona, took the sleigh from him, harnessed the horse and, without wasting a second, set off again. It took some two minutes or so to go down the meadow slope; the sleds flew by themselves, rolling now to the right, now to the left, and each time raking in lumps of snow. The horse, sensing the stall, started galloping. We passed the stream. It's fun to drive home. It is fun to watch how the native roof gradually shows up and grows in the distance. From the faces of Savely and Peter it was impossible to tell that they were cheerful; embarrassment and anxiety were indicated in the features of the father; a heavy presentiment invaded his soul more strongly as he approached the mill. He did not speak to his son. Peter was also silent. Silently they climbed out of the sleigh and opened the gate. When they appeared in the yard, Grishutka looked out from around the corner of the barn; he disappeared at the same moment, and then it was clear through the cracks of the wattle fence how he slipped through like a hare and disappeared behind the cage. I don’t know if Peter paid attention to this, but the old man didn’t notice anything. Both hurried to the porch. A cry, unexpectedly resounding in the hut, tore at their hearts; they exchanged glances. At that moment Palageya appeared on the porch. There was nothing more to ask: Palageya's face and, even more so, the cry that now freely flew out of the half-open door of the hut, clearly said that it was all over ... - It hurts very painfully ... - Palageya said, - go to her ... Nonche died, Christ with him, at the very dawn ... Father and son entered the hut. The baby, covered with a white handkerchief, lay under the images, which dimly reflected the tiny flame of a yellow wax candle. Marya sat beside her; clasping the baby's body in her arms, hiding her face at his feet, she wept inconsolably. The loss of a child, whom she had been waiting for six years, whom she then so joyfully carried under her heart for nine months, resounded heavily in her soul; but another feeling was mixed in with this: the baby somehow attached her husband more closely to her, obviously disposed her father-in-law to her. Her soul, bitterly attuned by the loss of her child, created new, exaggerated fears: she was losing confidence in her husband's love and the favor of her father-in-law. Savely, in whose eyes the tiny flame of the candle took the form of a large cloudy circle, immediately saw that he still had to console his daughter-in-law and son. Having made three bows to the earth, he ordered Peter to stay with his wife, and he went down to the yard and began to unharness the horse. Putting it in its place, he took two brand new songs from the crossbeam of the canopy and slowly led them to the stump, where he had knocked together a cradle five days ago. There was more trouble with the cradle than in the current work. When Peter went to his father, the coffin was almost finished. “Peter,” said the old man, “you don’t need to go with me, sit with your wife for a while; I go alone; it's not a big burden!... I'll carry it myself, I'll bury it myself... You stay here... But where is Grigory? That I don't see him... Where is he? Peter, as if by some instinct, went straight to the cage. A minute later he took Grishka out of there; the boy did not dare raise his head and generally showed signs of great fright. - Come here, Gregory! said the old man in a meek voice. “Where are you all hiding ... why? .. This is not good ... Stay here ... Here I will take him with me,” Savely said, turning to his son, “he will help; He goes down to his buttocks and blows away a shovel... You go and sit with them for a while... The old man's affectionate treatment apparently had a completely different effect on Grishka than was to be expected; instead of emboldening himself, he pursed his lips somehow sourly and blinked his eyes whiningly; he did not move from his place, did not dare to raise his head, so that only two whirlwinds on the back of his head and ears, which were as red as his face, peeped upward. But the old man, who took up the lid of the coffin, again seemed to forget about the existence of the boy. Soon, however, he was lured by the clatter of horses' hooves and the voice of a beggar who was driving into the millyard. Pomolets said hello, asked if there was free tackle and if it was possible to fall asleep. “Go to sleep, good man, go to sleep...” Savely said in the same meek, relaxed voice with which he addressed Grishka, “what kind of tackle you like, go to sleep in that one ... - What is it ... Do you have a dead person? - asked the pomolet. - Granddaughter ... - Savely said quietly, somehow picking up his lips, which suddenly began to wrinkle, - granddaughter ... Here he was ... and now ... now he is gone ... Half an hour later, in the mill yard again there were screams and cries; now they were only stronger; Marya was standing on the porch; Palagea held it on one side, and Peter on the other. She rushed to Savely, who was coming out of the gate, holding a coffin tied with a sash that passed over the old man's shoulder; Grishka, also without a hat, followed him with a shovel and a scraper over his shoulder. All the way, Savely did not turn to his companion, did not say a word to him: Grishka deliberately seemed to step more carefully and tried not to make noise with a scraper and a shovel so as not to draw attention to himself. From time to time he would go aside and glance sideways at Uncle Savely's face; but in these glances there was by far no longer that slyness, that quickness, which they distinguished a few days ago, when the boy was walking along the same road with a barrel behind his back. His very thoughts were now as if different. He did not think of throwing stones into the stream, he did not think of sneaking up on the crows that sometimes perched ten paces from the road. The sparrows themselves did not occupy him, although, it must be said, they were just as noisy as then, fidgeting in the willows, jumping on the wattle fence and beating their wings, bathing in loose snow. Having gone up to Yagodnya, the old man went first of all to his godfather Dron, then to the matchmaker Stegney and asked them to help him dig a grave. They first groaned, Then they began to remember how long ago they feasted at the christening; but seeing that Savely had no desire to cry, they took the scrapers and set off. While they were digging the grave, Savely sent Grishka for the priest. The funeral ceremony took place very soon. After a while, a small mound rose up in the place where the pit had been. The snow was falling in thick flakes, and before Savely had time to level the ground, the snow covered it like fluff. - Well, - Savely said, sighing somehow in two steps, - well, granddaughters, forgive me! .. I thought you would live with us ... you will be a joy ... Forgive me, granddaughters! .. - That's it, godfather, - said Dron, - there is something to lament about! It would be nice if the granddaughter walked, or he began to babble, otherwise it was only five days for him ... - God willing, you will make another granddaughter! - said, in turn, the matchmaker Stegney, - the daughter-in-law is not old, the son is also a young fellow: what years is he! .. In response to such consolations, Savely only waved his hand and turned away. Kum Dron and the matchmaker Stegney looked at each other, as if they wanted to say to each other: "We must leave it, it's not up to that now!" - said goodbye and went home. Savely, accompanied by Grishka, who was still walking at some distance, stepping carefully and trying not to draw attention to himself, left the cemetery. Not far from the church, they met with Andrei. Savely was related to Dron and Stegney: the first was brought to him by a godfather, the second by a matchmaker; Andrey was a stranger to him, and yet Savely treated him much more affectionately than with the first two. He raised his cap in response to Andrey's bow and even slowed down his step. - Savely Rodionich, - Andrey said in his chesty quiet voice, - listen: I had three. .. three adults already! My girl went to the twelfth year; Egorushka was seven years old... And he buried them, Savely Rodionich! To know, so the Lord sends us; he gives children, he takes them away ... I tell you: I had three - I buried them all! - You are my brother, - said Savely, raising his voice for the first time that day, - take it into account: after all, the granddaughter has been waiting for six years! For six years the Lord has been asking for it! Looks like I didn't enjoy it! How glad I was! .. And then one more thing, another case came out ... I was completely distressed! .. - I heard, I heard ... They said! Andrew picked it up. - I took pity on you, Savely Rodionich ... Well, in this also, Savely Rodionich ... in this also ... judge - you have; the rest: there was money ... If such a sin happened to another, to the poor, then do? How to be here? Of course, it's a pity ... Well, God bless them! To the extreme, at least weakened ... - My brother, he gave the last! There was just everything! - Savely said, shaking his head from side to side, - there was only all the best! I worked for ten years, I didn’t straighten my back for ten years and then I poured myself with water! .. Did I get it for nothing, this money? Think, too, and you: did I find them, sitting on the stove and clamming my hands? Worked for ten years, shore - and everything went to dust! In one day, everything is gone ... and where did it go, you think! - Complete, Savely Rodionich, complete! The Lord punishes, the Lord has mercy! If it were not for the Lord, who else would you hope for! My life is sicker than yours, and-and! Where! But I live, I live!.. People live and not in such grief, Savely Rodionich, really! Right! Conversing in this way, they imperceptibly went down to the stream, which now seeped through the snowdrifts in a cold dark blue ribbon. Here Andrey and Savely parted; one went to Yagodnya, the other went to the mill. The snow continued to fall in flakes. The church on a raised platform and even the nearest part of the meadow slope disappeared completely, as if covered with a white, slowly swaying canopy. At twenty paces it was impossible to distinguish objects at the bottom of the valley. Little by little, however, the air began to clear up: the snowy, moving mesh was noticeably thinning. In places, patches of gray sky opened up, which gradually turned blue and thickened, approaching the distant horizon. After a while the snow stopped falling; occasionally only here and there, past the blue horizon, slowly flew, circling and quietly falling, lonely snow flakes. But the change in the weather met with deep indifference on the part of Savely; in this case, as in all cases, by the way, he represented a sharp contrast with Grishutka. The latter, one must think, possessed great fortitude and was able to endure the blows of fate with more philosophical calmness. He seemed to be visibly emboldened; it seemed that he even managed to master his usual disposition, or tried at least to amuse himself and dispel him. He attentively watched the snow flakes circling alone in the air, drew fanciful scallops across the snow with the toe of his bast shoes, did not miss the opportunity to put out the wrong side of his palm towards the descending snowflakes; often he even took a moment and, throwing back his head, caught them on his tongue. True, as soon as Savely coughed or made a movement with his hand, Grishutka straightened up, balanced the scraper and spatula on his shoulder, and generally assumed a preoccupied, fussy businesslike air; but this lasted for a minute, maybe two, after which he regained control of himself and again tried to dispel himself. So they went out into the meadow, which, under its snow cover, seemed to run even further to the pale purple groves and the dark blue sky. The silence was dead; everything disappeared, it seemed, under the snow and plunged into a deep sleep. The roof of a small mill and the old willows that overshadowed it were lonely white, towering under the gray, distant horizon. It was as quiet as the rest of the area. There was not a sound of water, nor that deaf, evenly trembling rumble, which shows that the millstones are in full motion and the wheels are turning in unison. Pomolets apparently finished his work and left; it was even better. Savely thought so. In the yard and in the house he found the same silence; silence even descended, as it were, into the very soul of the inhabitants of the small mill. Peter looked less sad now; Maria calmed down visibly. At the sight of her father-in-law returning empty-handed, she began to cry again; but her tears were not accompanied by cries and cries of despair, her tears stopped even when Savely approached her and affectionately began to console her, referring to providence, to the will of God. - I know, father, God's will is not for us to judge, you can't argue it, but everything is bitter! - said Marya in a voice torn with sadness. - Do not forget me, do not forget my child for a long time ... So I got used to him, so attached! .. It seems, father, I will be pregnant with him forever! I will wear it for a century! .. I will not forget it for a century! But in sorrowful moments, it is always common for a person to lose hope in the future, it is always common to exaggerate one's suffering! Less than a year passed, and already among the inhabitants of a small mill there was no mention of past misfortunes. Peaceful, serene joy was depicted on all faces, especially on the senile face of grandfather Savely, who again had to sit on a stump under a canopy, again had to fuss over the cradle. I also had to send for wine again; but it was Peter who went, not Grishka, although, it must be said, the latter would not have been caught now for anything; Grishutka yawned noticeably less to the side and generally showed less absent-mindedness. The christening went on this time incomparably more cheerfully than in old time. Swat Stegney, godfather Dron and Palageya sang songs; Savely joyfully shook his gray hairs, made affectionate jokes to his daughter-in-law and constantly patted Andrei on the shoulder, who now often looked into the little mill. The mill itself seemed to share the joy of its owners. On the day of the christening, carts of rye not only filled the yard, but even stood outside the gates, the millstones fluttered, as if trying to start dancing; the wheel turned without rest, foaming the lower part of the barn, while the roof, quivering softly, sent light clouds of flour dust into the air. Mikulinsky miller and his sons continue to look askance at a small mill. But Savely pays no attention to them. His mill flourishes from year to year, more millstones appear on it from year to year, so that again the millstones have to be changed, they are almost completely worn out; however, there is now something to buy, thank God! But this, on the one hand, pleases the old man; on the other hand, there is another joy: he has granddaughters, a strong, healthy little boy, whom, one can say without exaggeration, his grandfather himself almost nursed. Often, on clear sunny days, you can see how the granddaughter steps around the yard and, waddling from foot to foot, like a duck, hurries to run away from the grandfather, who is exhausted, apparently to catch the child, clapping his hands and everything during the persecution does not cease to grin in his gray beard. But the merry cries of the child, the clapping of the grandfather's hands, the voice of Peter, the song of Marya gradually fall silent as the evening dawn fades in the sky. Night descends on the earth... Everything subsides, except for a small mill, which, evenly trembling, alone rustles in the middle of the sleeping neighborhood, as if reminding of its old master. He also never knew rest and worked his life, even while others were sleeping. 1857