‘The oaks will go for sledge-runners. The undergrowth will take care of
itself, and there’ll still be some thirty sazheens of fire-wood left on
each desyatin,’ said he to himself. ‘That means there will be at
least two hundred and twenty-five rubles’ worth left on each desyatin.
Fifty-six desyatiins means fifty-six hundreds, and fifty-six hundreds,
and fifty-six tens, and another fifty-six tens, and then fifty-six
fives....’ He saw that it came out to more than twelve thousand
rubles, but could not reckon it up exactly without a counting-frame.
‘But I won’t give ten thousand, anyhow. I’ll give about eight thousand
with a deduction on account of the glades. I’ll grease the surveyor’s
palm--give him a hundred rubles, or a hundred and fifty, and he’ll
reckon that there are some five desyatins of glade to be deducted. And
he’ll let it go for eight thousand. Three thousand cash down. That’ll
move him, no fear!’ he thought, and he pressed his pocket-book with his
forearm.
‘God only knows how we missed the turning. The forest ought to be there,
and a watchman’s hut, and dogs barking. But the damned things don’t
bark when they’re wanted.’ He turned his collar down from his ear and
listened, but as before only the whistling of the wind could be heard,
the flapping and fluttering of the kerchief tied to the shafts, and the
pelting of the snow against the woodwork of the sledge. He again covered
up his ear.
‘If I had known I would have stayed the night. Well, no matter, we’ll
get there to-morrow. It’s only one day lost. And the others won’t travel
in such weather.’ Then he remembered that on the 9th he had to receive
payment from the butcher for his oxen. ‘He meant to come himself, but
he won’t find me, and my wife won’t know how to receive the money. She
doesn’t know the right way of doing things,’ he thought, recalling
how at their party the day before she had not known how to treat the
police-officer who was their guest. ‘Of course she’s only a woman! Where
could she have seen anything? In my father’s time what was our house
like? Just a rich peasant’s house: just an oatmill and an inn--that was
the whole property. But what have I done in these fifteen years? A shop,
two taverns, a flour-mill, a grain-store, two farms leased out, and a
house with an iron-roofed barn,’ he thought proudly. ‘Not as it was in
Father’s time! Who is talked of in the whole district now? Brekhunov!
And why? Because I stick to business. I take trouble, not like others
who lie abed or waste their time on foolishness while I don’t sleep of
nights. Blizzard or no blizzard I start out. So business gets done. They
think money-making is a joke. No, take pains and rack your brains! You
get overtaken out of doors at night, like this, or keep awake night
after night till the thoughts whirling in your head make the pillow
turn,’ he meditated with pride. ‘They think people get on through luck.
After all, the Mironovs are now millionaires. And why? Take pains and
God gives.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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