Russian fiction -- Translations into English; Short stories, Russian -- Translations into English
"We'd gladly buy him off, but haven't any thing, Yégor Mikhaïlovitch.
Lost two horses this summer. I have just got my nephew married. You
see, it's our luck, just because we've lived decently. Fine for him to
talk as he did." (The old man referred to Rézun.)
The overseer rubbed his face with his hand, and yawned. It was getting
tiresome to him, and besides it was tea-time.
"Well, old man, don't be blue," said he; "but just dig in your cellar,
and perhaps you can find enough to make up four hundred silver rubles.
I will hire you a substitute. A few days ago a man offered himself."
"What! in the _government_?" asked Dutlof, meaning by "government" the
chief city.
"Well, will you hire him?"
"I'd be glad to, but, before God, I"--
The overseer looked at him sternly.
"Now, you just listen to me, old man: don't let Ilyushka do any harm to
himself; when I send to-night or to-morrow, have him come immediately.
You bring him, and you shall be answerable for him; and if any thing
happens to him, God be my witness, I will take your oldest son. Do you
hear?"
"But couldn't they have taken some one else, Yégor Mikháiluitch?" he
said in an aggrieved tone after a short silence; "because my brother
died in the army, must they take his son also? Why should such luck
come to me?" he added, almost weeping, and ready to get on his knees.
"Now, hold on, hold on!" said the overseer. "There's no need of
any trouble; it's my orders. You look out for your nephew; you're
responsible for him."
Dutlof went home, carefully helping himself with his cane over the
irregularities of the road.
VII.
On the next day, early in the morning, there was drawn up before the
door of the _wing_ a travelling carriage (the one which the overseer
generally used), with a wide-tailed brown gelding called, for some
inscrutable reason, Barabán, or the drum. At a safe distance from his
head stood Aniutka, Polikéï's oldest daughter, barefoot, in spite of
the rain and sleet, and the cold wind, holding the bridle in one hand
with evident terror, and protecting her own head with a yellow-green
jacket, which fulfilled in the family the manifold functions of dress,
sheepskin, head-dress, carpet, overcoat for Polikéï, and many other
uses besides.
In the _corner_ a tumult was let loose. It was still dark. The morning
light, ushering in a rainy day, fell through the window, the broken
panes of which were in places mended with pieces of paper.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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