‘Take a walk in the garden; or go into the copse. We’ve a copse here beyond the threshing-floor. Are you fond of fishing?’ ‘Are there fish here?’ ‘Yes, in the pond. Loaches, sand-eels, and perches are caught there. Now, to be sure, the best time is over; July’s here. But anyway, you might try.... Shall I get the tackle ready?’ ‘Yes, do please.’ ‘I’ll send a boy with you ... to put on the worms. Or maybe I ‘d better come myself?’ Narkiz obviously doubted whether I knew how to set about things properly by myself. ‘Come, please, come along.’ Narkiz, without a word, grinned from ear to ear, then suddenly knitted his brows ... and went out of the room. IV Half an hour later we set off to catch fish. Narkiz had put on an extraordinary sort of cap with ears, and was more dignified than ever. He walked in front with a steady, even step; two rods swayed regularly up and down on his shoulders; a bare-legged boy followed him carrying a can and a pot of worms. ‘Here, near the dike, there’s a seat, put up on the floating platform on purpose,’ Narkiz was beginning to explain to me, but he glanced ahead, and suddenly exclaimed: ‘Aha! but our poor folk are here already ... they keep it up, it seems.’ I craned my head to look from behind him, and saw on the floating platform, on the very seat of which he had been speaking, two persons sitting with their backs to us; they were placidly fishing. ‘Who are they?’ I asked. ‘Neighbours,’ Narkiz responded, with displeasure. ‘They’ve nothing to eat at home, and so here they come to us.’ ‘Are they allowed to?’ ‘The old master allowed them.... Nikolai Petrovitch maybe won’t give them permission.... The long one is a superannuated deacon--quite a silly creature; and as for the other, that’s a little stouter--he’s a brigadier.’ ‘A brigadier?’ I repeated, wondering. This ‘brigadier’s’ attire was almost worse than the deacon’s. ‘I assure you he’s a brigadier. And he did have a fine property once. But now he has only a corner given him out of charity, and he lives ... on what God sends him. But, by the way, what are we to do? They’ve taken the best place.... We shall have to disturb our precious visitors.’ ‘No, Narkiz, please don’t disturb them. We’ll sit here a little aside; they won’t interfere with us. I should like to make acquaintance with the brigadier.’ ‘As you like. Only, as far as acquaintance goes ... you needn’t expect much satisfaction from it, sir; he’s grown very weak in his head, and in conversation he’s silly as a little child. As well he may be; he’s past his eightieth year.’ ‘What’s his name?’ ‘Vassily Fomitch. Guskov’s his surname.’ ‘And the deacon?’ ‘The deacon? ... his nickname’s Cucumber. Every one about here calls him so; but what his real name is--God knows! A foolish creature! A regular ne’er-do-well.’ ‘Do they live together?’ ‘No; but there--the devil has tied them together, it seems.’ V