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Optimov felt tempted to find fault with the local authorities for the dust and disorder of the market-place, but, aware of the peace-loving disposition and moderate views of his companion, he said nothing. In the middle of the market-place Potcheshihin suddenly halted and began gazing into the sky. "What are you looking at?" "Those starlings that flew up. I wonder where they have settled.
Optimov, disperse, or it'll be the worse for you! Instead of writing all kinds of things about decent people in the papers, you had better try to behave yourself more conformably! No good ever comes of reading the papers!" "Kindly refrain from reflections upon literature!" cried Optimov hotly.
"There must be something the matter, I should think," said Potcheshihin, "a fire or something. But there's no sign of smoke anywhere. Hey! Kuzma!" he shouted to the peasant, "what's the matter?" The peasant made some reply, but Potcheshihin and Optimov did not catch it. Sleepy-looking shopmen made their appearance at the doors of all the shops.
So nobody ever knew why the crowd had assembled, and Potcheshihin and Optimov had by now forgotten the existence of the starlings who were innocently responsible for the proceedings. An hour later the town was still and silent again, and only a solitary figure was to be seen the fireman pacing round and round on the watch-tower.
The starlings rose in a black cloud from the Father Prebendary's garden, but Potcheshihin and Optimov did not notice them. They stood staring into the air, wondering what could have attracted such a crowd, and what it was looking at. Akim Danilitch appeared. Still munching and wiping his lips, he cut his way into the crowd, bellowing: "Firemen, be ready! Disperse! Mr.
One was Potcheshihin, the local treasury clerk, and the other was Optimov, the agent, for many years a correspondent of the Son of the Fatherland newspaper. They walked in silence, speechless from the heat.
"Yes, you were right; they have settled in the Father Prebendary's," said Optimov. "His cherries are ripe now, so they have gone there to peck them." From the garden gate emerged the Father Prebendary himself, accompanied by the sexton.
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