Yevgraf
Ivanovitch Shiryaev, alittle farmer, whose father, a parish priest, currently
deceased, had received a present of 300 acres of land from lady Kuvshinnikov, a
general's widow, was standing in an exceedingly corner before a copper
washing-stand, laundry his hands. As usual, his face looked anxious and gruff,
and his beard was unkempt.
"What
weather!" he aforesaid. "It's not weather, however a curse ordered
upon U.S.. It's descending again!"
He grumbled on,
whereas his family Sat waiting at table for him to possess finished laundry his
hands before starting dinner. Fedosya Semyonovna, his wife, his son Pyotr, a
student, his eldest girl Varvara, and 3 tiny boys, had been sitting waiting an
extended time. The boys—Kolka, Vanka, and Arhipka—grubby, pug-nose very little
fellows with zoftig faces and frowzled hair that wished cutting, affected their
chairs with impatience, whereas their elders Sat while not stirring, and
apparently failed to care whether or not they Ate their dinner or waited....
As though
attempting their patience, Shiryaev deliberately dried his hands, deliberately
aforesaid his prayer, and Sat right down to the table while not hurrying
himself. Cabbage-soup was served at once. The sound of carpenters' axes
(Shiryaev was having a brand new barn built) and therefore the laughter of
Fomka, their workman, teasing the turkey, floated in from the yard.
Big,
distributed drops of rain pattered on the window.
Pyotr, a
stooped student in spectacles, unbroken exchanging glances together with his
mother as he Ate his dinner. many times he ordered down his spoon and cleared
his throat, aspiring to begin to talk, however once Associate in Nursing intent
observe his father he fell to feeding once more. At last, once the dish had
been served, he cleared his throat decisively and said:
"I must go
tonight by the evening train. I resolute have gone before; i've got
uncomprehensible a two weeks because it is. The lectures begin on the primary
of Sep."
"Well,
go," Shiryaev assented; "why are you lingering on here? close up and
go, and smart luck to you."
A minute passed
in silence.
"He should
have cash for the journey, Yevgraf Ivanovitch," the mother discovered in
an exceedingly low voice.
"Money? To
take care, you can't go while not cash. Take it without delay, since you would
like it. you'll have had it long ago!"
The student
heaved a faint sigh and looked with relief at his mother. Deliberately Shiryaev
took a pocket-book out of his coat-pocket and placed on his spectacles.
"How
abundant does one want?" he asked.
"The fare
to capital of the Russian Federation is eleven roubles xlii kopecks...."
"Ah,
money, money!" sighed the daddy. (He invariably sighed once he saw cash,
even once he was receiving it.) "Here are twelve roubles for you. you may
have modification out of that which is able to be of use to you on the
journey."
"Thank
you."
After waiting a
bit, the scholar said:
"I failed
to get lessons quite initially last year. I don't know the way it'll be this
year; presumably it will take Pine Tree State a bit time to search out work. I
must raise you for fifteen roubles for my lodging and dinner."
Shiryaev
thought a bit and heaved a sigh.
"You can
need to create 10 do," he aforesaid. "Here, take it."
The student
thanked him. He must have asked him for one thing additional, for garments, for
lecture fees, for books, however once Associate in Nursing intent observe his
father he set to not frustrate him additional.
The mother,
lacking in diplomacy and prudence, like all mothers, couldn't restrain herself,
and said:
"You must
offer him another six roubles, Yevgraf Ivanovitch, for a try of shoes. Why,
just see, however will he visit capital of the Russian Federation in such
wrecks?"
"Let him
take my previous ones; they're still quite smart."
"He should
have trousers, anyway; he's a disgrace to seem at."
And at once
afterward a storm-signal showed itself, at the sight of that all the family trembled.
Shiryaev's
short, fat neck turned suddenly red as a beetroot. the color mounted slowly to
his ears, from his ears to his temples, and by degrees distributed his whole
face. Yevgraf Ivanovitch shifted in his chair and unbuttoned his shirt-collar to
save lots of himself from choking. He was patently fighting the sensation that
was mastering him. A deathly silence followed. the youngsters control their
breath. Fedosya Semyonovna, as if she failed to grasp what was happening to her
husband, went on:
"He isn't
a bit boy currently, you know; he's guilty to travel concerning while not
garments."
Shiryaev
suddenly jumped up, and with all his may flung down his fat pocket-book within
the middle of the table, in order that a hunk of bread flew off a plate. A
repellent expression of anger, resentment, avarice—all mixed together—flamed on
his face.
"Take
everything!" he loud in Associate in Nursing unnatural voice;
"plunder me! Take it all! Strangle me!"
He jumped up
from the table, clutched at his head, and ran staggering concerning the space.
"Strip
Pine Tree State to the last thread!" he loud in an exceedingly shrill
voice. "Squeeze out the last drop! Rob me! Wring my neck!"
The student
flushed and born his eyes. He couldn't last feeding. Fedosya Semyonovna, UN
agency had not once twenty-five years grownup wont to her husband's tough
character, shrank into herself and muttered one thing in protection. Associate
in Nursing expression of astonishment and uninteresting terror came into her
wasted and animal face, that in any respect times looked uninteresting and
frightened. the small boys and therefore the elder girl Varvara, a lady in her
teens, with a pale ugly face, ordered down their spoons and Sat mute.
Shiryaev,
growing additional and more savage, uttering words every additional terrible
than the one before, broken up to the table and commenced shaking the notes out
of his pocket-book.
"Take
them!" he muttered, shaking everywhere. "You've ingested and drunk
your fill, thus here's cash for you too! i want nothing! Order yourself new
boots and uniforms!"
The student
turned pale and got up.
"Listen,
papa," he began, dyspneic for breath. "I... i encourage you to finish
this, for..."
"Hold your
tongue!" the daddy loud at him, and then loudly that the spectacles fell
off his nose; "hold your tongue!"
"I used...
I wont to be ready to place up with such scenes, but... however currently i've
got got out of the approach of it. does one understand? i've got got out of the
approach of it!"
"Hold your
tongue!" cried the daddy, and he sealed together with his feet. "You
should hear what I say! I shall say what i prefer, and you hold your tongue. At
your age i used to be earning my living, while you... does one recognize what
you value Pine Tree State, you scoundrel? I'll flip you out! Wastrel!"
"Yevgraf
Ivanovitch," muttered Fedosya Semyonovna, moving her fingers nervously;
"you recognize he... you recognize Petya...!"
"Hold your
tongue!" Shiryaev loud resolute her, and tears really came into his eyes
from anger. "It is you UN agency have spoilt them—you! It's all of your
fault! He has no respect for U.S., doesn't say his prayers, and earns nothing!
i'm just one against the 10 of you! I'll flip you out of the house!"
The girl
Varvara gazed fixedly at her mother along with her mouth open, affected her
vacant-looking eyes to the window, turned pale, and, uttering a loud shriek,
fell back in her chair. The father, with a curse and a wave of the hand, ran
out into the yard.
This was
however domestic scenes sometimes all over at the Shiryaevs'. however on this
occasion, sadly, Pyotr the scholar was anxious by overmastering anger. He was
even as hasty and crabby as his father and his granddad the priest, UN agency
wont to beat his parishioners concerning the top with a stick. Pale and
clenching his fists, he went up to his mother and loud within the terribly
highest tenor note his voice may reach:
"These
reproaches are loathsome! unwholesome to me! i need nothing from you! Nothing!
i might rather die of hunger than eat another mouthful at your expense! Take
your nasty cash back! take it!"
The mother
huddled against the wall and waved her hands, as if it weren't her son, however
some phantom before her. "What have I done?" she wailed.
"What?"
Like his
father, the boy waved his hands and bumped into the yard. Shiryaev's house
stood alone on a valley that ran sort of a furrow for four miles on the plain.
Its sides were overgrown with oak saplings and alders, and a stream ran at the
underside.
On one facet
the house looked towards the vale, on the opposite towards the open country,
there have been no fences nor hurdles. Instead there have been farm-buildings of
all types near each other, movement in a very tiny area ahead of the house that
was considered the yard, and during which hens, ducks, and pigs ran concerning.
Going out of
the house, the coed walked on the muddy road towards the open country. The air
was filled with a penetrating time of year damp. The road was muddy, puddles
gleamed here and there, and within the yellow fields time of year itself
appeared looking from the grass, dismal, decaying, dark. On the right-hand
facet of the road was a vegetable-garden cleared of its crops and
gloomy-looking, with here and there sunflowers standing up in it with hanging
heads already black.
Pyotr thought
it might not be a nasty factor to steer to Russian capital on foot; to walk
even as he was, with holes in his boots, while not a cap, and while not a coin
of cash. once he had gone eighty miles his father, frightened and dismayed,
would overtake him, would begin beggary him to show back or take the money,
however he wouldn't even take a look at him, however would last and on....
vacant forests would be followed by desolate fields, fields by forests again;
presently the world would be white with the primary snow, and also the streams
would be coated with ice.... Somewhere close to metropolis or near Serpuhovo,
exhausted and dying of hunger, he would sink down and die. His clay would be
found, and there would be a paragraph altogether the papers spoken language
that a student referred to as Shiryaev had died of hunger....
A white dog
with a muddy tail UN agency was wandering concerning the vegetable-garden
searching for one thing gazed at him and sauntered when him.
He walked on
the road and thought of death, of the grief of his family, of the ethical
sufferings of his father, then pictured all types of adventures on the road,
every a lot of marvellous than the one before—picturesque places, terrible
nights, likelihood encounters. He fanciful a string of pilgrims, a hut within
the forest with one very little window shining in the darkness; he stands
before the window, begs for a night's lodging.... They let him in, and suddenly
he sees that they're robbers. Or, higher still, he's taken into a giant
manor-house, where, learning UN agency he's, they provide him food and drink,
play to him on the piano, hear his complaints, and also the female offspring of
the house, a beauty, falls enamored with him.
Absorbed in his
bitterness and such thoughts, young Shiryaev walked on and on. Far, so much
ahead he saw the hostelry, a dark patch against the gray background of cloud.
on the far side the hostelry, on the terribly horizon, he may see a touch
hillock; this was the railway-station. That knoll reminded him of the
affiliation existing between the place wherever he was currently standing and
Russian capital, wherever street-lamps were burning and carriages were rattling
within the streets, wherever lectures were being given. And he nearly wept with
depression and impatience. The solemn landscape, with its order and wonder, the
deathly stillness all around, revolted him and rapt him to despair and hatred!
"Look
out!" He detected behind him a loud voice.
An married
woman of his acquaintance, a owner of the neighbourhood, drove past him in a
very lightweight, elegant landau. He bowed to her, and smiled everywhere his
face. And directly he caught himself therein smile, that was thus out of
keeping together with his gloomy mood. wherever did it come back from if his
whole heart was filled with vexation and misery? And he thought nature itself
had given man this capability for lying, that even in troublesome moments of
religious strain he can be able to hide the secrets of his nest because the fox
and also the duck do. each family has its joys and its horrors, however but
nice they'll be, it's exhausting for AN outsider's eye to work out them;
they're a secret. the daddy of the married woman UN agency had simply driven
by, as an example, had for a few offence lain for 0.5 his life below the ban of
the wrath of sovereign Nicolas I.; her husband had been a gambler; of her four
sons, not one had clothed well. One may
imagine what percentage terrible scenes there should are in her life, what
percentage tears should are shed. And however the married woman appeared happy
and glad, and he or she had answered his smile by smiling too. the coed thought
of his comrades, UN agency failed to like talking concerning their families; he
thought of his mother, UN agency nearly always song once she had to talk of her
husband and kids....
Pyotr walked
concerning the roads off from home until hour, abandoning himself to dreary
thoughts. once it began to drizzle with rain he turned homeward. As he walked
back he created up his mind in the slightest degree prices to speak to his
father, to elucidate to him, once and for all, that it absolutely was dreadful
and oppressive to measure with him.
He found
excellent stillness within the house. His sister Varvara was lying behind a
screen with a headache, unarticulate faintly. His mother, with a glance of
astonishment and guilt upon her face, was sitting beside her on a box, mending
Arhipka's trousers. Yevgraf Ivanovitch was pacing from one window to a
different, unfriendly at the weather. From his walk, from the approach he
cleared his throat, and even from the rear of his head, it absolutely was
evident he felt himself responsible.
"I suppose
you have got modified your mind concerning going today?" he asked.
The student
felt pitying him, however right away suppressing that feeling, he said:
"Listen...
i need to speak to you seriously... yes, seriously. i've got forever revered
you, and... and haven't brought myself to talk to you in such a tone, however
your behaviour... your last action..."
The father
looked out of the window and failed to speak. the coed, like considering his
words, rubbed his forehead and went on in nice excitement:
"Not a
dinner or tea passes while not your creating AN uproar. Your bread sticks in
our throat... nothing is a lot of bitter, a lot of mortifying, than bread that
sticks in one's throat.... although you're my father, no one, neither God nor
nature, has given you the proper to insult and wound America thus dreadfully,
to vent your ill-humour on the weak. you have got worn my mother out and
created a slave of her, my sister is dispiritedly crushed, while I..."
"It's not
your business to show Pine Tree State," aforementioned his father.
"Yes, it's
my business! you'll quarrel with Pine Tree State the maximum amount as you
prefer, however leave my mother in peace! i'll not permit you to torment my
mother!" the coed went on, with flashing eyes. "You are spoilt as a
result of nobody has however dared to oppose you. They tremble and are mute
towards you, however currently that's over! Coarse, underbred man! you're
coarse... does one understand? you're coarse, curmudgeonly, unfeeling. and also
the peasants can't endure you!"
The student had
by currently lost his thread, and wasn't most speaking as firing detached
words. Yevgraf Ivanovitch listened in silence, like stunned; however suddenly
his neck turned crimson, the color crept up his face, and he created a
movement.
"Hold your
tongue!" he loud.
"That's
right!" the son persisted; "you don't prefer to hear the truth!
Excellent! terribly good! begin shouting! Excellent!"
"Hold your
tongue, I tell you!" roared Yevgraf Ivanovitch.
Fedosya
Semyonovna appeared within the entry, very pale, with AN astonied face; she
tried to mention one thing, however she couldn't, and will solely move her
fingers.
"It's all
of your fault!" Shiryaev loud at her. "You have brought him up like
this!"
"I don't
wish to travel on living during this house!" loud the coed, crying, and
looking out angrily at his mother. "I don't wish to measure with
you!"
Varvara
expressed a shriek behind the screen and bust into loud sobs. With a wave of
his hand, Shiryaev ran out of the house.
The student
visited his own area and quietly lay down. He lay until time of day while not
moving or gap his eyes. He felt neither anger nor shame, however a obscure ache
in his soul. He neither infernal his father nor pitied his mother, nor was he
plagued by stings of conscience; he realised that each one within the house was
feeling the identical ache, and God solely knew that was most responsible, that
was suffering most....
At midnight he
woke the working man, and told him to own the horse prepared at 5 o'clock
within the morning for him to drive to the station; he undressed and got into
bed, however couldn't get to sleep. He detected however his father, still
awake, paced slowly from window to window, sighing, until early morning. nobody
was asleep; they spoke seldom, and solely in whispers. double his mother came
to him behind the screen. forever with the identical look of vacant marvel, she
slowly created the cross over him, shaking nervously.
At 5 o'clock
within the morning he aforementioned good-bye to all dearly, and even snivel.
As he passed his father's area, he glanced in at the door. Yevgraf Ivanovitch,
UN agency had not kicked off his garments or gone to bed, was standing by the
window, percussion on the panes.
"Good-bye;
i'm going," aforementioned his son.
"Good-bye...
the money is on the spherical table..." his father answered, while not
turning spherical.
A cold, hateful
rain was falling because the working man drove him to the station. The
sunflowers were drooping their heads still lower, and also the grass appeared
darker than ever.
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