the witch and other stories-第32章
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don't know how to do any sort of peasant's work now; Lipinka。' 。
。 。〃
They stopped to rest and wait for Praskovya near a copse of young
aspen…trees。 Elizarov had long been a contractor in a small way;
but he kept no horses; going on foot all over the district with
nothing but a little bag in which there was bread and onions; and
stalking along with big strides; swinging his arms。 And it was
difficult to walk with him。
At the entrance to the copse stood a milestone。 Elizarov touched
it; read it。 Praskovya reached them out of breath。 Her wrinkled
and always scared…looking face was beaming with happiness; she
had been at church to…day like anyone else; then she had been to
the fair and there had drunk pear cider。 For her this was
unusual; and it even seemed to her now that she had lived for her
own pleasure that day for the first time in her life。 After
resting they all three walked on side by side。 The sun had
already set; and its beams filtered through the copse; casting a
light on the trunks of the trees。 There was a faint sound of
voices ahead。 The Ukleevo girls had long before pushed on ahead
but had lingered in the copse; probably gathering mushrooms。
〃Hey; wenches!〃 cried Elizarov。 〃Hey; my beauties!〃
There was a sound of laughter in response。
〃Crutch is coming! Crutch! The old horseradish。〃
And the echo laughed; too。 And then the copse was left behind。
The tops of the factory chimneys came into view。 The cross on the
belfry glittered: this was the village: 〃the one at which the
deacon ate all the caviare at the funeral。〃 Now they were almost
home; they only had to go down into the big ravine。 Lipa and
Praskovya; who had been walking barefooted; sat down on the grass
to put on their boots; Elizar sat down with them。 If they looked
down from above Ukleevo looked beautiful and peaceful with its
willow…trees; its white church; and its little river; and the
only blot on the picture was the roof of the factories; painted
for the sake of cheapness a gloomy ashen grey。 On the slope on
the further side they could see the rye some in stacks and
sheaves here and there as though strewn about by the storm; and
some freshly cut lying in swathes; the oats; too; were ripe and
glistened now in the sun like mother…of…pearl。 It was
harvest…time。 To…day was a holiday; to…morrow they would harvest
the rye and carry the hay; and then Sunday a holiday again; every
day there were mutterings of distant thunder。 It was misty and
looked like rain; and; gazing now at the fields; everyone
thought; God grant we get the harvest in in time; and everyone
felt gay and joyful and anxious at heart。
〃Mowers ask a high price nowadays;〃 said Praskovya。 〃One rouble
and forty kopecks a day。〃
People kept coming and coming from the fair at Kazanskoe: peasant
women; factory workers in new caps; beggars; children。 。 。 。 Here
a cart would drive by stirring up the dust and behind it would
run an unsold horse; and it seemed glad it had not been sold;
then a cow was led along by the horns; resisting stubbornly; then
a cart again; and in it drunken peasants swinging their legs。 An
old woman led a little boy in a big cap and big boots; the boy
was tired out with the heat and the heavy boots which prevented
his bending his legs at the knees; but yet blew unceasingly with
all his might at a tin trumpet。 They had gone down the slope and
turned into the street; but the trumpet could still be heard。
〃Our factory owners don't seem quite themselves 。 。 。〃 said
Elizarov。 〃There's trouble。 Kostukov is angry with me。 'Too many
boards have gone on the cornices。' 'Too many? As many have gone
on it as were needed; Vassily Danilitch; I don't eat them with my
porridge。' 'How can you speak to me like that?' said he; 'you
good…for…nothing blockhead! Don't forget yourself! It was I made
you a contractor。' 'That's nothing so wonderful;' said I。 'Even
before I was a contractor I used to have tea every day。' 'You are
a rascal 。 。 。' he said。 I said nothing。 'We are rascals in this
world;' thought I; 'and you will be rascals in the next。 。 。 。'
Ha…ha…ha! The next day he was softer。 'Don't you bear malice
against me for my words; Makaritch;' he said。 'If I said too
much;' says he; 'what of it? I am a merchant of the first guild;
your superior you ought to hold your tongue。' 'You;' said I;
'are a merchant of the first guild and I am a carpenter; that's
correct。 And Saint Joseph was a carpenter; too。 Ours is a
righteous calling and pleasing to God; and if you are pleased to
be my superior you are very welcome to it; Vassily Danilitch。'
And later on; after that conversation I mean; I thought: 'Which
was the superior? A merchant of the first guild or a carpenter?'
The carpenter must be; my child!〃
Crutch thought a minute and added:
〃Yes; that's how it is; child。 He who works; he who is patient is
the superior。〃
By now the sun had set and a thick mist as white as milk was
rising over the river; in the church enclosure; and in the open
spaces round the factories。 Now when the darkness was coming on
rapidly; when lights were twinkling belo w; and when it seemed as
though the mists were hiding a fathomless abyss; Lipa and her
mother who were born in poverty and prepared to live so till the
end; giving up to others everything except their frightened;
gentle souls; may have fancied for a minute perhaps that in the
vast; mysterious world; among the endless series of lives; they;
too; counted for something; and they; too; were superior to
someone; they liked sitting here at the top; they smiled happily
and forgot that they must go down below again all the same。
At last they went home again。 The mowers were sitting on the
ground at the gates near the shop。 As a rule the Ukleevo peasants
did not go to Tsybukin's to work; and they had to hire strangers;
and now in the darkness it seemed as though there were men
sitting there with long black beards。 The shop was open; and
through the doorway they could see the deaf man playing draughts
with a boy。 The mowers were singing softly; scarcely audibly; or
loudly demanding their wages for the previous day; but they were
not paid for fear they should go away before to…morrow。 Old
Tsybukin; with his coat off; was sitting in his waistcoat with
Aksinya under the birch…tree; drinking tea; a lamp was burning on
the table。
〃I say; grandfather;〃 a mower called from outside the gates; as
though taunting him; 〃pay us half anyway! Hey; grandfather。〃
And at once there was the sound of laughter; and then again they
sang hardly audibly。 。 。 。 Crutch; too; sat down to have some
tea。
〃We have been at the fair; you know;〃 he began telling them。 〃We
have had a walk; a very nice walk; my children; praise the Lord。
But an unfortunate thing happened: Sashka the blacksmith bought
some tobacco and gave the shopman half a rouble to be sure。 And
the half rouble was a false one〃 Crutch went on; and he meant
to speak in a whisper; but he spoke in a smothered husky voice
which was audible to everyone。 〃The half…rouble turned out to be
a bad one。 He was asked where he got it。 'Anisim Tsybukin gave it
me;' he said。 'When I went to his wedding;' he said。 They called
the police inspector; took the man away。 。 。 。 Look out; Grigory
Petrovitch; that nothing comes of it; no talk。 。 。 。〃
〃Gra…ndfather!〃 the same voice called tauntingly outside the
gates。 〃Gra…andfather!〃
A silence followed。
〃Ah; little children; little children; little children 。 。 。〃
Crutch muttered rapidly; and he got up。 He was overcome with
drowsiness。 〃Well; thank you for the tea; for the sugar; little
children。 It is time to sleep。 I am like a bit of rotten timber
nowadays; my beams are crumbling under me。 Ho…ho…ho! I suppose
it's time I was dead。〃
And he gave a gulp。 Old Tsybukin did not finish his tea but sat
on a little; pondering; and his face looked as though he were
listening to the footsteps of Crutch; who was far away down the
street。
〃Sashka the blacksmith told a lie; I expect;〃 said Aksinya;
guessing his thoughts。
He went into the house and came back a little later with a
parcel; he opened it; and there was the gleam of roubles
perfectly new coin