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'Well, all right... said Lukashka, 'but remember! He moved towards the shop. 'Girls! he shouted, 'why have you stopped? Go on dancing. Nazarka, fetch some more chikhir. 'Well, will they come? asked Olenin, addressing Beletski. 'They'll come directly, replied Beletski. 'Come along, we must prepare the ball.
'Your health! said Lukashka, taking from his mother's hands a cup filled to the brim with chikhir and carefully raising it to his bowed head. 'A bad business! said Nazarka. 'You heard how Daddy Burlak said, "Have you stolen many horses?" He seems to know! 'A regular wizard! Lukashka replied shortly. 'But what of it! he added, tossing his head. 'They are across the river by now.
Vanyusha would bring him his tea and he would sit down in a corner near the oven. The old woman did not mind him but went on with her work, and over their tea or their chikhir they talked about Cossack affairs, about the neighbours, or about Russia: Olenin relating and the others inquiring. Sometimes he brought a book and read to himself.
Here you are, and he handed two of the pheasants in at the window. 'Are you a sportsman yourself? he asked. 'I am. During the campaign I killed four myself. 'Four? What a lot! said the old man sarcastically. 'And are you a drinker? Do you drink CHIKHIR? 'Why not? I like a drink. 'Ah, I see you are a trump! We shall be KUNAKS, you and I, said Daddy Eroshka. 'Step in, said Olenin.
He told of Cossack life in the old days: of his father, 'The Broad', who alone had carried on his back a boar's carcass weighing three hundredweight, and drank two pails of chikhir at one sitting. He told of his own days and his chum Girchik, with whom during the plague he used to smuggle felt cloaks across the Terek.
Was such a thing ever heard of? They would let you the best hut in the village for two rubles. What a beast! Why, I'd let you have mine for three! 'No, I'll remain here, said Olenin. 'Six rubles! ... Clearly it's a fool's money. Eh, eh, eh! answered the old man. 'Let's have some chikhir, Ivan!
Oh, you little Grace now do Tell me, do you love me true? And he became so excited that with a sudden dashing movement he started dancing around the room accompanying himself the while. Songs like 'Dee, dee, dee' 'gentlemen's songs' he sang for Olenin's benefit, but after drinking three more tumblers of chikhir he remembered old times and began singing real Cossack and Tartar songs.
He was devising an excuse to get out and run away when Beletski announced that Ustenka, whose saint's day it was, must offer chikhir to everybody with a kiss. She consented on condition that they should put money on her plate, as is the custom at weddings. 'What fiend brought me to this disgusting feast? thought Olenin, rising to go away. 'Where are you off to?
Father used to come home I still remember it quite red and swollen, without a cap, having lost everything: he'd come and lie down. Mother knew what to do: she would bring him some fresh caviar and a little chikhir to sober him up, and would herself run about in the village looking for his cap. Then he'd sleep for two days! That's the sort of fellows they were then! But now what are they?
Vanyusha would bring a jug of chikhir, and they would converse quietly, drink, and separate to go quite contentedly to bed. The next day he would again go shooting, again be healthily weary, again they would sit conversing and drink their fill, and again be happy. Sometimes on a holiday or day of rest Olenin spent the whole day at home.
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