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I informed him that I had not met the Cossack and pointed to the unhappy victim of his rabid bravery. "The scoundrel!" said the second Cossack. "No sooner does he drink his fill of chikhir than off he goes and cuts up anything that comes in his way. Let us be after him, Eremeich, we must tie him up or else"...

The little boys were respectfully looking at him through the fence and not even teasing him as was their wont. His women neighbours, who were as a rule not too gracious towards him, greeted him and brought him, one a jug of chikhir, another some clotted cream, and a third a little flour.

Moths circled round the flame and, shedding the dust of their wings, fluttered on the table and in the glasses, flew into the candle flame, and disappeared in the black space beyond. Olenin and Eroshka had emptied five bottles of chikhir. Eroshka filled the glasses every time, offering one to Olenin, drinking his health, and talking untiringly.

He looked attentively but not benevolently at Eroshka, as at a wild beast he had never seen before, shook his head at the floor which the old man had dirtied and, having taken two bottles from under a bench, went to the landlady. 'Good evening, kind people, he said, having made up his mind to be very gentle. 'My master has sent me to get some chikhir. Will you draw some for me, good folk?

You've not heard anything, Uncle, have you? he added, needlessly screwing up his eyes and showing his close-set white teeth. 'Abreks, said the old man. 'No, I haven't. I say, have you any chikhir? Let me have a drink, there's a good man. I'm really quite done up. When the time comes I'll bring you some fresh meat, I really will. Give me a drink! he added.

'That's clever, eh? he asked, his small eyes glistening. Lukashka smiled faintly. 'Going back to the cordon? asked the old man. 'I have brought the chikhir I promised you when we were at the cordon.

I'm tired. Karga? he added inquiringly. 'And what does "Karga" mean? asked Olenin. 'Why, that means "All right" in Georgian. But I say it just so. It is a way I have, it's my favourite word. Karga, Karga. I say it just so; in fun I mean. Well, lad, won't you order the chikhir? You've got an orderly, haven't you? Hey, Ivan! shouted the old man. 'All your soldiers are Ivans. Is yours Ivan?

'True enough, his name is Ivan Vanyusha. Here Vanyusha! Please get some chikhir from our landlady and bring it here. 'Ivan or Vanyusha, that's all one. Why are all your soldiers Ivans? Ivan, old fellow, said the old man, 'you tell them to give you some from the barrel they have begun. They have the best chikhir in the village.

But the two old men grew merry. The girls climbed onto the oven, where they sat whispering and looking at the men, who drank till it was late. Olenin did not talk, but drank more than the others. The Cossacks were shouting. The old woman would not let them have any more chikhir, and at last turned them out.

The old woman, who had at first struck Olenin so much by her rudeness, now often touched him by her simple tenderness towards her daughter. 'Yes, we need not offend the Lord by grumbling! We have enough of everything, thank God. We have pressed sufficient CHIKHIR and have preserved and shall sell three or four barrels of grapes and have enough left to drink. Don't be in a hurry to leave us.