章节正文
'You know we're off the track again!' said Vasili Andreevich.
'How's that?'
'Why, there are no way-marks to be seen. We must have got off
the road again.'
'Well, if we've lost the road we must find it,' said Nikita
curtly, and getting out and stepping lightly on his pigeon-toed
feet he started once more going about on the snow.
He walked about for a long time, now disappearing and now
reappearing, and finally he came back.
'There is no road here. There may be farther on,' he said,
getting into the sledge.
It was already growing dark. The snow-storm had not increased
but had also not subsided.
'If we could only hear those peasants!' said Vasili Andreevich.
'Well they haven't caught us up. We must have gone far astray.
Or maybe they have lost their way too.'
'Where are we to go then?' asked Vasili Andreevich.
'Why, we must let the horse take its own way,' said Nikita.
'He will take us right. Let me have the reins.'
Vasili Andreevich gave him the reins, the more willingly
because his hands were beginning to feel frozen in his thick
gloves.
Nikita took the reins, but only held them, trying not to shake
them and rejoicing at his favourite's sagacity. And indeed the
clever horse, turning first one ear and then the other now to
one side and then to the other, began to wheel round.
'The one thing he can't do is to talk,' Nikita kept saying.
'See what he is doing! Go on, go on! You know best. That's
it, that's it!'
The wind was now blowing from behind and it felt warmer.
'Yes, he's clever,' Nikita continued, admiring the horse. 'A
Kirgiz horse is strong but stupid. But this one--just see what
he's doing with his ears! He doesn't need any telegraph. He
can scent a mile off.'
Before another half-hour had passed they saw something dark
ahead of them--a wood or a village--and stakes again appeared
to the right. They had evidently come out onto the road.
'Why, that's Grishkino again!' Nikita suddenly exclaimed.
And indeed, there on their left was that same barn with the
snow flying from it, and farther on the same line with the
frozen washing, shirts and trousers, which still fluttered
desperately in the wind.
Again they drove into the street and again it grew quiet, warm,
and cheerful, and again they could see the manure-stained
street and hear voices and songs and the barking of a dog. It
was already so dark that there were lights in some of the
windows.
Half-way through the village Vasili Andreevich turned the horse
towards a large double-fronted brick house and stopped at the
porch.
Nikita went to the lighted snow-covered window, in the rays of
which flying snow-flakes glittered, and knocked at it with his
whip.
'Who is there?' a voice replied to his knock.
'From Kresty, the Brekhunovs, dear fellow,' answered Nikita.
'Just come out for a minute.'
Someone moved from the window, and a minute or two later there
was the sound of the passage door as it came unstuck, then the
latch of the outside door clicked and a tall white-bearded
peasant, with a sheepskin coat thrown over his white holiday
shirt, pushed his way out holding the door firmly against the
wind, followed by a lad in a red shirt and high leather boots.
'Is that you, Andreevich?' asked the old man.
'Yes, friend, we've gone astray,' said Vasili Andreevich. 'We
wanted to get to Goryachkin but found ourselves here. We went
a second time but lost our way again.'
'Just see how you have gone astray!' said the old man.
'Petrushka, go and open the gate!' he added, turning to the lad
in the red shirt.
'All right,' said the lad in a cheerful voice, and ran back
into the passage.
'But we're not staying the night,' said Vasili Andreevich.
'Where will you go in the night? You'd better stay!'
'I'd be glad to, but I must go on. It's business, and it can't
be helped.'
'Well, warm yourself at least. The samovar is just ready.'
'Warm myself? Yes, I'll do that,' said Vasili Andreevich. 'It
won't get darker. The moon will rise and it will be lighter.
Let's go in and warm ourselves, Nikita.'
'Well, why not? Let us warm ourselves,' replied Nikita, who
was stiff with cold and anxious to warm his frozen limbs.
Vasili Andreevich went into the room with the old man, and
Nikita drove through the gate opened for him by Petrushka, by
whose advice he backed the horse under the penthouse. The
ground was covered with manure and the tall bow over the
horse's head caught against the beam. The hens and the cock
had already settled to roost there, and clucked peevishly,
clinging to the beam with their claws. The disturbed sheep
shied and rushed aside trampling the frozenmanure with their
hooves. The dog yelped desperately with fright and anger and
then burst out barking like a puppy at the stranger.
Nikita talked to them all, excused himself to the fowls and
assured them that he would not disturb them again, rebuked the
sheep for being frightened without knowing why, and kept
soothing the dog, while he tied up the horse.
'Now that will be all right,' he said, knocking the snow off
his clothes. 'Just hear how he barks!' he added, turning to
the dog. 'Be quiet, stupid! Be quiet. You are only troubling
yourself for nothing. We're not thieves, we're friends. . . .'
'And these are, it's said, the three domestic counsellors,'
remarked the lad, and with his strong arms he pushed under the
pent-roof the sledge that had remained outside.
'Why counsellors?' asked Nikita.
'That's what is printed in Paulson. A thief creeps to a
house--the dog barks, that means "Be on your guard!" The cock
crows, that means, "Get up!" The cat licks herself--that
means, "A welcome guest is coming. Get ready to receive him!"'
said the lad with a smile.
Petrushka could read and write and knew Paulson's primer, his
only book, almost by heart, and he was fond of quoting sayings
from it that he thought suited the occasion, especially when he
had had something to drink, as to-day.
'That's so,' said Nikita.
'You must be chilled through and through,' said Petrushka.
'Yes, I am rather,' said Nikita, and they went across the yard
and the passage into the house.
IV
The household to which Vasili Andreevich had come was one of
the richest in the village. The family had five allotments,
besides renting other land. They had six horses, three cows,
two calves, and some twenty sheep. There were twenty-two
members belonging to the homestead: four married sons, six
grandchildren (one of whom, Petrushka, was married), two
great-grandchildren, three orphans, and four daughters-in-law
with their babies. It was one of the few homesteads that
remained still undivided, but even here the dull internal work
of disintegration which would inevitably lead to separation had
already begun, starting as usual among the women. Two sons
were living in Moscow as water-carriers, and one was in the
army. At home now were the old man and his wife, their second
son who managed the homestead, the eldest who had come from
Moscow for the holiday, and all the women and children.
Besides these members of the family there was a visitor, a
neighbour who was godfather to one of the children.
Over the table in the room hung a lamp with a shade, which
brightly lit up the tea-things, a bottle of vodka, and some
refreshments, besides illuminating the brick walls, which in
the far corner were hung with icons on both sides of which were
pictures. At the head of the table sat Vasili Andreevich in a
black sheepskin coat, sucking his frozen moustache and
observing the room and the people around him with his prominent
hawk-like eyes. With him sat the old, bald, white-bearded
master of the house in a white homespun shirt, and next him the
son home from Moscow for the holiday--a man with a sturdy back
and powerful shoulders and clad in a thin print shirt--then the
second son, also broad-shouldered, who acted as head of the
house, and then a lean red-haired peasant--the neighbour.
Having had a drink of vodka and something to eat, they were
about to take tea, and the samovar standing on the floor beside
the brick oven was already humming. The children could be seen
in the top bunks and on the top of the oven. A woman sat on a
lower bunk with a cradle beside her. The old housewife, her
face covered with wrinkles which wrinkled even her lips, was
waiting on Vasili Andreevich.
As Nikita entered the house she was offering her guest a small
tumbler of thick glass which she had just filled with vodka.
'Don't refuse, Vasili Andreevich, you mustn't! Wish us a merry
feast. Drink it, dear!' she said.
The sight and smell of vodka, especially now when he was
chilled through and tired out, much disturbed Nikita's mind.
He frowned, and having shaken the snow off his cap and coat,
stopped in front of the icons as if not seeing anyone, crossed
himself three times, and bowed to the icons. Then, turning to
the old master of the house and bowing first to him, then to
all those at table, then to the women who stood by the oven,
and muttering: 'A merry holiday!' he began taking off his outer
things without looking at the table.
'Why, you're all covered with hoar-frost, old fellow!' said the
eldest brother, looking at Nikita's snow-covered face, eyes,
and beard.
Nikita took off his coat, shook it again, hung it up beside the
oven, and came up to the table. He too was offered vodka. He
went through a moment of painfulhesitation and nearly took up
the glass and emptied the clear fragrantliquid down his
throat, but he glanced at Vasili Andreevich, remembered his
oath and the boots that he had sold for drink, recalled the
cooper, remembered his son for whom he had promised to buy a
horse by spring, sighed, and declined it.
'I don't drink, thank you kindly,' he said frowning, and sat
down on a bench near the second window.
'How's that?' asked the eldest brother.
'I just don't drink,' replied Nikita without lifting his eyes
but looking askance at his scanty beard and moustache and
getting the icicles out of them.
'It's not good for him,' said Vasili Andreevich, munching a
cracknel after emptying his glass.
'Well, then, have some tea,' said the kindly old hostess. 'You
must be chilled through, good soul. Why are you women dawdling
so with the samovar?'
'It is ready,' said one of the young women, and after flicking
with her apron the top of the samovar which was now boiling
over, she carried it with an effort to the table, raised it,
and set it down with a thud.
Meanwhile Vasili Andreevich was telling how he had lost his
way, how they had come back twice to this same village, and how
they had gone astray and had met some drunken peasants. Their
hosts were surprised, explained where and why they had missed
their way, said who the tipsy people they had met were, and
told them how they ought to go.
'A little child could find the way to Molchanovka from here.
All you have to do is to take the right turning from the high
'How's that?'
'Why, there are no way-marks to be seen. We must have got off
the road again.'
'Well, if we've lost the road we must find it,' said Nikita
curtly, and getting out and stepping lightly on his pigeon-toed
feet he started once more going about on the snow.
He walked about for a long time, now disappearing and now
reappearing, and finally he came back.
'There is no road here. There may be farther on,' he said,
getting into the sledge.
It was already growing dark. The snow-storm had not increased
but had also not subsided.
'If we could only hear those peasants!' said Vasili Andreevich.
'Well they haven't caught us up. We must have gone far astray.
Or maybe they have lost their way too.'
'Where are we to go then?' asked Vasili Andreevich.
'Why, we must let the horse take its own way,' said Nikita.
'He will take us right. Let me have the reins.'
Vasili Andreevich gave him the reins, the more willingly
because his hands were beginning to feel frozen in his thick
gloves.
Nikita took the reins, but only held them, trying not to shake
them and rejoicing at his favourite's sagacity. And indeed the
clever horse, turning first one ear and then the other now to
one side and then to the other, began to wheel round.
'The one thing he can't do is to talk,' Nikita kept saying.
'See what he is doing! Go on, go on! You know best. That's
it, that's it!'
The wind was now blowing from behind and it felt warmer.
'Yes, he's clever,' Nikita continued, admiring the horse. 'A
Kirgiz horse is strong but stupid. But this one--just see what
he's doing with his ears! He doesn't need any telegraph. He
can scent a mile off.'
Before another half-hour had passed they saw something dark
ahead of them--a wood or a village--and stakes again appeared
to the right. They had evidently come out onto the road.
'Why, that's Grishkino again!' Nikita suddenly exclaimed.
And indeed, there on their left was that same barn with the
snow flying from it, and farther on the same line with the
frozen washing, shirts and trousers, which still fluttered
desperately in the wind.
Again they drove into the street and again it grew quiet, warm,
and cheerful, and again they could see the manure-stained
street and hear voices and songs and the barking of a dog. It
was already so dark that there were lights in some of the
windows.
Half-way through the village Vasili Andreevich turned the horse
towards a large double-fronted brick house and stopped at the
porch.
Nikita went to the lighted snow-covered window, in the rays of
which flying snow-flakes glittered, and knocked at it with his
whip.
'Who is there?' a voice replied to his knock.
'From Kresty, the Brekhunovs, dear fellow,' answered Nikita.
'Just come out for a minute.'
Someone moved from the window, and a minute or two later there
was the sound of the passage door as it came unstuck, then the
latch of the outside door clicked and a tall white-bearded
peasant, with a sheepskin coat thrown over his white holiday
shirt, pushed his way out holding the door firmly against the
wind, followed by a lad in a red shirt and high leather boots.
'Is that you, Andreevich?' asked the old man.
'Yes, friend, we've gone astray,' said Vasili Andreevich. 'We
wanted to get to Goryachkin but found ourselves here. We went
a second time but lost our way again.'
'Just see how you have gone astray!' said the old man.
'Petrushka, go and open the gate!' he added, turning to the lad
in the red shirt.
'All right,' said the lad in a cheerful voice, and ran back
into the passage.
'But we're not staying the night,' said Vasili Andreevich.
'Where will you go in the night? You'd better stay!'
'I'd be glad to, but I must go on. It's business, and it can't
be helped.'
'Well, warm yourself at least. The samovar is just ready.'
'Warm myself? Yes, I'll do that,' said Vasili Andreevich. 'It
won't get darker. The moon will rise and it will be lighter.
Let's go in and warm ourselves, Nikita.'
'Well, why not? Let us warm ourselves,' replied Nikita, who
was stiff with cold and anxious to warm his frozen limbs.
Vasili Andreevich went into the room with the old man, and
Nikita drove through the gate opened for him by Petrushka, by
whose advice he backed the horse under the penthouse. The
ground was covered with manure and the tall bow over the
horse's head caught against the beam. The hens and the cock
had already settled to roost there, and clucked peevishly,
clinging to the beam with their claws. The disturbed sheep
shied and rushed aside trampling the frozenmanure with their
hooves. The dog yelped desperately with fright and anger and
then burst out barking like a puppy at the stranger.
Nikita talked to them all, excused himself to the fowls and
assured them that he would not disturb them again, rebuked the
sheep for being frightened without knowing why, and kept
soothing the dog, while he tied up the horse.
'Now that will be all right,' he said, knocking the snow off
his clothes. 'Just hear how he barks!' he added, turning to
the dog. 'Be quiet, stupid! Be quiet. You are only troubling
yourself for nothing. We're not thieves, we're friends. . . .'
'And these are, it's said, the three domestic counsellors,'
remarked the lad, and with his strong arms he pushed under the
pent-roof the sledge that had remained outside.
'Why counsellors?' asked Nikita.
'That's what is printed in Paulson. A thief creeps to a
house--the dog barks, that means "Be on your guard!" The cock
crows, that means, "Get up!" The cat licks herself--that
means, "A welcome guest is coming. Get ready to receive him!"'
said the lad with a smile.
Petrushka could read and write and knew Paulson's primer, his
only book, almost by heart, and he was fond of quoting sayings
from it that he thought suited the occasion, especially when he
had had something to drink, as to-day.
'That's so,' said Nikita.
'You must be chilled through and through,' said Petrushka.
'Yes, I am rather,' said Nikita, and they went across the yard
and the passage into the house.
IV
The household to which Vasili Andreevich had come was one of
the richest in the village. The family had five allotments,
besides renting other land. They had six horses, three cows,
two calves, and some twenty sheep. There were twenty-two
members belonging to the homestead: four married sons, six
grandchildren (one of whom, Petrushka, was married), two
great-grandchildren, three orphans, and four daughters-in-law
with their babies. It was one of the few homesteads that
remained still undivided, but even here the dull internal work
of disintegration which would inevitably lead to separation had
already begun, starting as usual among the women. Two sons
were living in Moscow as water-carriers, and one was in the
army. At home now were the old man and his wife, their second
son who managed the homestead, the eldest who had come from
Moscow for the holiday, and all the women and children.
Besides these members of the family there was a visitor, a
neighbour who was godfather to one of the children.
Over the table in the room hung a lamp with a shade, which
brightly lit up the tea-things, a bottle of vodka, and some
refreshments, besides illuminating the brick walls, which in
the far corner were hung with icons on both sides of which were
pictures. At the head of the table sat Vasili Andreevich in a
black sheepskin coat, sucking his frozen moustache and
observing the room and the people around him with his prominent
hawk-like eyes. With him sat the old, bald, white-bearded
master of the house in a white homespun shirt, and next him the
son home from Moscow for the holiday--a man with a sturdy back
and powerful shoulders and clad in a thin print shirt--then the
second son, also broad-shouldered, who acted as head of the
house, and then a lean red-haired peasant--the neighbour.
Having had a drink of vodka and something to eat, they were
about to take tea, and the samovar standing on the floor beside
the brick oven was already humming. The children could be seen
in the top bunks and on the top of the oven. A woman sat on a
lower bunk with a cradle beside her. The old housewife, her
face covered with wrinkles which wrinkled even her lips, was
waiting on Vasili Andreevich.
As Nikita entered the house she was offering her guest a small
tumbler of thick glass which she had just filled with vodka.
'Don't refuse, Vasili Andreevich, you mustn't! Wish us a merry
feast. Drink it, dear!' she said.
The sight and smell of vodka, especially now when he was
chilled through and tired out, much disturbed Nikita's mind.
He frowned, and having shaken the snow off his cap and coat,
stopped in front of the icons as if not seeing anyone, crossed
himself three times, and bowed to the icons. Then, turning to
the old master of the house and bowing first to him, then to
all those at table, then to the women who stood by the oven,
and muttering: 'A merry holiday!' he began taking off his outer
things without looking at the table.
'Why, you're all covered with hoar-frost, old fellow!' said the
eldest brother, looking at Nikita's snow-covered face, eyes,
and beard.
Nikita took off his coat, shook it again, hung it up beside the
oven, and came up to the table. He too was offered vodka. He
went through a moment of painfulhesitation and nearly took up
the glass and emptied the clear fragrantliquid down his
throat, but he glanced at Vasili Andreevich, remembered his
oath and the boots that he had sold for drink, recalled the
cooper, remembered his son for whom he had promised to buy a
horse by spring, sighed, and declined it.
'I don't drink, thank you kindly,' he said frowning, and sat
down on a bench near the second window.
'How's that?' asked the eldest brother.
'I just don't drink,' replied Nikita without lifting his eyes
but looking askance at his scanty beard and moustache and
getting the icicles out of them.
'It's not good for him,' said Vasili Andreevich, munching a
cracknel after emptying his glass.
'Well, then, have some tea,' said the kindly old hostess. 'You
must be chilled through, good soul. Why are you women dawdling
so with the samovar?'
'It is ready,' said one of the young women, and after flicking
with her apron the top of the samovar which was now boiling
over, she carried it with an effort to the table, raised it,
and set it down with a thud.
Meanwhile Vasili Andreevich was telling how he had lost his
way, how they had come back twice to this same village, and how
they had gone astray and had met some drunken peasants. Their
hosts were surprised, explained where and why they had missed
their way, said who the tipsy people they had met were, and
told them how they ought to go.
'A little child could find the way to Molchanovka from here.
All you have to do is to take the right turning from the high
- lightly [´laitli]
ad.轻微地，稍微 (初中英语单词) - beginning [bi´giniŋ] n.开始，开端；起源 (初中英语单词)
- frozen [´frəuzn] freeze 的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- stupid [´stju:pid] a.愚蠢的；糊涂的 (初中英语单词)
- telegraph [´teligrɑ:f] n.&v.(打)电报；电告 (初中英语单词)
- evidently [´evidəntli] ad.明显地 (初中英语单词)
- trousers [´trauzəz] n.裤子，长裤 (初中英语单词)
- cheerful [´tʃiəful] a.快乐的；高兴的 (初中英语单词)
- firmly [´fə:mli] ad.坚固地，稳定地 (初中英语单词)
- anxious [´æŋkʃəs] a.担忧的；渴望的 (初中英语单词)
- fright [frait] n.惊吓；恐怖；怪人 (初中英语单词)
- disturb [di´stə:b] vt.扰乱；使不安；打乱 (初中英语单词)
- knowing [´nəuiŋ] a.会意的，心照不宣的 (初中英语单词)
- domestic [də´mestik] a.家庭的；本国的 (初中英语单词)
- welcome [´welkəm] a.受欢迎的；可喜的 (初中英语单词)
- moscow [´mɔskəu] n.莫斯科 (初中英语单词)
- holiday [´hɔlidi] n.假日，假期，节日 (初中英语单词)
- visitor [´vizitə] n.访问者；来宾；参观者 (初中英语单词)
- standing [´stændiŋ] n.持续 a.直立的 (初中英语单词)
- cradle [´kreidl] n.摇篮；发源地 (初中英语单词)
- shaken [´ʃeikən] shake的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- liquid [´likwid] n.液体 a.流动的 (初中英语单词)
- drunken [´drʌŋkən] a.喝醉的；常醉的 (初中英语单词)
- rejoicing [ri´dʒɔisiŋ] n.高兴；欢呼 (高中英语单词)
- desperately [´despəritli] ad.绝望地；拼命地 (高中英语单词)
- sledge [sledʒ] n.雪橇；大锤 (高中英语单词)
- internal [in´tə:nl] a.内部的；国内的 (高中英语单词)
- separation [,sepə´reiʃən] n.分离；分开；分居 (高中英语单词)
- eldest [´eldist] a.最年长的 (高中英语单词)
- sturdy [´stə:di] a.坚强的；坚定的 (高中英语单词)
- housewife [´hauswaif] n.家庭主妇 (高中英语单词)
- offering [´ɔfəriŋ] n.提供；礼物；捐献 (高中英语单词)
- seeing [si:iŋ] see的现在分词 n.视觉 (高中英语单词)
- painful [´peinfəl] a.痛(苦)的；费力的 (高中英语单词)
- hesitation [,hezi´teiʃən] n.犹豫，踌躇 (高中英语单词)
- fragrant [´freigrənt] a.芳香的，芬芳的 (高中英语单词)
- scanty [´skænti] a.贫乏的；节省的 (高中英语单词)
- hostess [´həustis] n.女主人；旅馆女老板 (高中英语单词)
- trying [´traiiŋ] a.难堪的；费劲的 (英语四级单词)
- manure [mə´njuə] n.粪肥 vt.施肥于 (英语四级单词)
- thieves [θi:vz] thief的复数 (英语四级单词)
- calves [kɑ:vz] calf的复数 (英语四级单词)
- homestead [´həumsted] n.家宅，宅基 (英语四级单词)
- inevitably [in´evitəbli] ad.不可避免地；必然地 (英语四级单词)
- astray [ə´strei] ad.&a.在歧途上(的) (英语四级单词)
- sagacity [sə´gæsəti] n.精明；敏锐；有远见 (英语六级单词)
- half-hour [´hɑ:f-auə] n.&a.(每)三十分钟的 (英语六级单词)
- holding [´həuldiŋ] n.保持，固定，存储 (英语六级单词)
- homespun [´həumspʌn] a.家里(织)的 (英语六级单词)
- taking [´teikiŋ] a.迷人的 n.捕获物 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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