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"I will not be sayin'," returned Fergus, who was of an argumentative disposition, "anything at all about attackin' by day or by night. I will only be remarkin' that the Heelandman iss like the savitch in that he prefers life to death." "Come along to the fire, Fergus," said Dan, laughing; "I will argue that out with you."

"It's a complicated story, old man," began Matvey Savitch, "and if I were to tell you all just as it happened, it would take all night and more.

After all though a convict's child still he was a living soul, a Christian.... I was sorry for him. I shall make him my clerk, and if I have no children of my own, I'll make a merchant of him. Wherever I go now, I take him with me; let him learn his work." All the while Matvey Savitch had been telling his story, Kuzka had sat on a little stone near the gate.

A national committee of seventy-four members was elected, from Paris, Constantinople, London, Belgrade, Berlin, Finland, Poland, Switzerland, Sofia, Vienna, Athens, Riga, the United States, and amongst those elected were the following well-known Russian personalities Burtsef, Struve, Kartashef, Bunin, Kuprin, Roditchef, Savitch, Tyrkova, Dioneo.

He cried out in fright, and Sofya, too, uttered a cry; both were answered by the echo, and a faint stir passed over the stifling air; a watchman tapped somewhere near, a dog barked. Matvey Savitch muttered something in his sleep and turned over on the other side.

"Why, Fergus, you should have been born a savage," said Dan. "Ay, it iss savitch I am that I wass not born a savitch," returned Fergus with a grim smile. "What in all the world iss the use of ceevilisation if it will not make people happy?

Varvara came out of the house, and screening her eyes with her hand, as though from the sun, she looked towards the church. "It's the priest's sons with the schoolmaster," she said. Again all the three voices began to sing together. Matvey Savitch sighed and went on: "Well, that's how it was, old man. Two years later we got a letter from Vasya from Warsaw.

The evening was hot and close, no one felt inclined for sleep. When it was getting dark and pale stars began to twinkle here and there in the sky, Matvey Savitch began to tell how he had come by Kuzka. Afanasyevna and Sofya stood a little way off, listening. Kuzka had gone to the gate.

Kuzka, sleepy, tired, covered with dew, sat up in the cart, lazily putting on his little overcoat, and listening to the drip of the water from the bucket into the well as he shivered with the cold. "Auntie!" shouted Matvey Savitch to Sofya, "tell my lad to hurry up and to harness the horses!"

Over the yard the moon was floating now in the heavens; she was moving one way, while the clouds beneath moved the other way; the clouds were disappearing into the darkness, but still the moon could be seen high above the yard. Matvey Savitch said a prayer, facing the church, and saying good-night, he lay down on the ground near his cart.