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In the most stifling heat, at mid-day, it was like night in the wood: such peace, such fragrance, such freshness.... I had spent happy times in Tchapligino, and so, I must own, it was with melancholy feelings I entered the wood I knew so well.
'Only let's go, he said, 'to my underwoods at Zusha; I can seize the opportunity to have a look at Tchapligino; you know my oakwood; they're felling timber there. 'By all means. He ordered his horse to be saddled, put on a green coat with bronze buttons, stamped with a boar's head, a game-bag embroidered in crewels, and a silver flask, slung a new-fangled French gun over his shoulder, turned himself about with some satisfaction before the looking-glass, and called his dog, Hope, a gift from his cousin, an old maid with an excellent heart, but no hair on her head.
And who could have dreamed of this in former days? there was no shade no shade to be found anywhere in Tchapligino! 'Ah, I thought, looking at the dying trees: 'isn't it shameful and bitter for you?... Koltsov's lines recurred to me: 'What has become Of the mighty voices, The haughty strength, The royal pomp? Where now is the Wealth of green?...
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