United States or Bangladesh ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
'Only a moment, Father, Vasili Andreevich! replied Nikita, and running quickly with his inturned toes in his felt boots with their soles patched with felt, he hurried across the yard and into the workmen's hut. 'Arinushka! Get my coat down from the stove. I'm going with the master, he said, as he ran into the hut and took down his girdle from the nail on which it hung.
'What's that you are doing there? asked Vasili Andreevich. 'Unharnessing. What else is there to do? I have no strength left, said Nikita as though excusing himself. 'Can't we drive somewhere? 'No, we can't. We shall only kill the horse.
'Why, this must be the Goryachkin forest! said Vasili Andreevich, pointing to something dark that appeared amid the snow in front of them. 'We'll see what forest it is when we get there, said Nikita. He saw that beside the black thing they had noticed, dry, oblong willow-leaves were fluttering, and so he knew it was not a forest but a settlement, but he did not wish to say so.
'Or you might let me have fifteen rubles and I'll buy one at the horse-market, said Nikita, who knew that the horse Vasili Andreevich wanted to sell him would be dear at seven rubles, but that if he took it from him it would be charged at twenty-five, and then he would be unable to draw any money for half a year. 'It's a good horse. I think of your interest as of my own according to conscience.
At first and for a long time Nikita lay motionless, then he sighed deeply and moved. 'There, and you say you are dying! Lie still and get warm, that's our way... began Vasili Andreevich. But to his great surprise he could say no more, for tears came to his eyes and his lower jaw began to quiver rapidly. He stopped speaking and only gulped down the risings in his throat.
Why, the poor beast is not himself now, said Nikita, pointing to the horse, which was standing submissively waiting for what might come, with his steep wet sides heaving heavily. 'We shall have to stay the night here, he said, as if preparing to spend the night at an inn, and he proceeded to unfasten the collar-straps. The buckles came undone.
This opinion of the modern Russian woman is nothing but the echo of what was said in 1470 by a distinguished Russian traveler, "the sinful slave of God, Athanasius son of Nikita from Tver," as he styles himself. He describes India as follows: "This is the land of India. Its people are naked, never cover their heads, and wear their hair braided. Women have babies every year.
Some one in the crowd gave a jeering snort, and the angry shout of Mikhail was heard: "Don't you dare to beat me, I say, you infernal devil! I'm no weaker than you! Look out!" The police commissioner looked around. The people shut down on him in a narrower circle, advancing sullenly. "Nikita!" the police commissioner called out, looking around. "Nikita, hey!"
Nikita, the only one of Vasili Andreevich's labourers who was not drunk that day, ran to harness the horse.
As Nikita entered the house she was offering her guest a small tumbler of thick glass which she had just filled with vodka. 'Don't refuse, Vasili Andreevich, you mustn't! Wish us a merry feast. Drink it, dear! she said. The sight and smell of vodka, especially now when he was chilled through and tired out, much disturbed Nikita's mind.
Word Of The Day