[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.I know shedoes, and I accuse her of it and scold her; but as to taking herup, it would be a pity.An old woman, you know; she hasgrandchildren," said the foreman, continuing to smile in the samemanner, partly wishing to be pleasant to the master, and partlybecause he was convinced that Nekhludoff understood all thesematters just as well as he did himself.Get any book for free on: www.Abika.com The Resurrection 172"Where does she live? I shall go across and see her.""At the end of the village; the further side, the third from theend.To the left there is a brick cottage, and her hut is beyondthat.But I'd better see you there," the foreman said with agraceful smile."No, thanks, I shall find it; and you be so good as to call ameeting of the peasants, and tell them that I want to speak tothem about the land," said Nekhludoff, with the intention ofcoming to the same agreement with the peasants here as he haddone in Kousminski, and, if possible, that same evening.CHAPTER IV.THE PEASANTS' LOT.When Nekhludoff came out of the gate he met the girl with thelong earrings on the well-trodden path that lay across thepasture ground, overgrown with dock and plantain leaves.She hada long, brightly-coloured apron on, and was quickly swinging herleft arm in front of herself as she stepped briskly with her fat,bare feet.With her right arm she was pressing a fowl to herstomach.The fowl, with red comb shaking, seemed perfectly calm;he only rolled up his eyes and stretched out and drew in oneblack leg, clawing the girl's apron.When the girl came nearer to"the master," she began moving more slowly, and her run changedinto a walk.When she came up to him she stopped, and, after abackward jerk with her head, bowed to him; and only when he hadpassed did she recommence to run homeward with the cock.As hewent down towards the well, he met an old woman, who had a coarsedirty blouse on, carrying two pails full of water, that hung on ayoke across her bent back.The old woman carefully put down thepails and bowed, with the same backward jerk of her head.After passing the well Nekhludoff entered the village.It was abright, hot day, and oppressive, though only ten o'clock.Atintervals the sun was hidden by the gathering clouds.Anunpleasant, sharp smell of manure filled the air in the street.It came from carts going up the hillside, but chiefly from thedisturbed manure heaps in the yards of the huts, by the opengates of which Nekhludoff had to pass.The peasants, barefooted,their shirts and trousers soiled with manure, turned to look atthe tall, stout gentleman with the glossy silk ribbon on his greyhat who was walking up the village street, touching the groundevery other step with a shiny, bright-knobbed walking-stick.Thepeasants returning from the fields at a trot and jotting in theirempty carts, took off their hats, and, in their surprise,followed with their eyes the extraordinary man who was walking uptheir street.The women came out of the gates or stood in theporches of their huts, pointing him out to each other and gazingat him as he passed.When Nekhludoff was passing the fourth gate, he was stopped by acart that was coming out, its wheels creaking, loaded high withmanure, which was pressed down, and was covered with a mat to sitGet any book for free on: www.Abika.com The Resurrection 173on.A six-year-old boy, excited by the prospect of a drive,followed the cart.A young peasant, with shoes plaited out ofbark on his feet, led the horse out of the yard.A long-leggedcolt jumped out of the gate; but, seeing Nekhludoff, pressedclose to the cart, and scraping its legs against the wheels,jumped forward, past its excited, gently-neighing mother, as shewas dragging the heavy load through the gateway.The next horsewas led out by a barefooted old man, with protrudingshoulder-blades, in a dirty shirt and striped trousers.When the horses got out on to the hard road, strewn over withbits of dry, grey manure, the old man returned to the gate, andbowed to Nekhludoff."You are our ladies' nephew, aren't you?"Yes, I am their nephew.""You've kindly come to look us up, eh?" said the garrulous oldman."Yes, I have.Well, how are you getting on?"How do we get on? We get on very badly," the old man drawled, asif it gave him pleasure."Why so badly?" Nekhludoff asked, stepping inside the gate."What is our life but the very worst life?" said the old man,following Nekhludoff into that part of the yard which was roofedover.Nekhludoff stopped under the roof."I have got 12 of them there," continued the old man, pointing totwo women on the remainder of the manure heap, who stoodperspiring with forks in their hands, the kerchiefs tumbling offtheir heads, with their skirts tucked up, showing the calves oftheir dirty, bare legs."Not a month passes but I have to buy sixpoods [a pood is 36 English pounds] of corn, and where's the money tocome from?""Have you not got enough corn of your own?"My own?" repeated the old man, with a smile of contempt; "why Ihave only got land for three, and last year we had not enough tolast till Christmas.""What do you do then?""What do we do? Why, I hire out as a labourer; and then Iborrowed some money from your honour.We spent it all beforeLent, and the tax is not paid yet.""And how much is the tax?""Why, it's 17 roubles for my household.Oh, Lord, such a life!Get any book for free on: www.Abika.com The Resurrection 174One hardly knows one's self how one manages to live it.""May I go into your hut?" asked Nekhludoff, stepping across theyard over the yellow-brown layers of manure that had been rakedup by the forks, and were giving off a strong smell."Why not? Come in," said the old man, and stepping quickly withhis bare feet over the manure, the liquid oozing between histoes, he passed Nekhludoff and opened the door of the hut.The women arranged the kerchiefs on their heads and let downtheir skirts, and stood looking with surprise at the cleangentleman with gold studs to his sleeves who was entering theirhouse.Two little girls, with nothing on but coarse chemises,rushed out of the hut.Nekhludoff took off his hat, and, stoopingto get through the low door, entered, through a passage into thedirty, narrow hut, that smelt of sour food, and where much spacewas taken up by two weaving looms.In the but an old woman wasstanding by the stove, with the sleeves rolled up over her thin,sinewy brown arms."Here is our master come to see us," said the old man."I'm sure he's very welcome," said the old woman, kindly."I would like to see how you live.""Well, you see how we live.The hut is coming down, and mightkill one any day; but my old man he says it's good enough, and sowe live like kings," said the brisk old woman, nervously jerkingher head."I'm getting the dinner; going to feed the workers.""And what are you going to have for dinner?""Our food is very good.First course, bread and kvas; [kvas is akind of sour, non-intoxicant beer made of rye] second course,kvas and bread," said the old woman, showing her teeth, whichwere half worn away."No," seriously; "let me see what you are going to eat.""To eat?" said the old man, laughing."Ours is not a very cunningmeal.You just show him, wife.""Want to see our peasant food? Well, you are an inquisitivegentleman, now I come to look at you.He wants to knoweverything.Did I not tell you bread and kvas and then we'll havesoup.A woman brought us some fish, and that's what the soup ismade of, and after that, potatoes.""Nothing more?"What more do you want? We'll also have a little milk," said theold woman, looking towards the door
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
