Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 20, 2025
A cricket chirped in the corner ... the rain pattered on the roof and streamed down the windows; we were all silent. 'Foma Kuzmitch, said the peasant suddenly in a thick, broken voice; 'Foma Kuzmitch! 'What is it? 'Let me go. Biryuk made no answer. 'Let me go ... hunger drove me to it; let me go. 'I know you, retorted the forester severely; 'your set's all alike all thieves.
Biryuk clutched him by the shoulder. I rushed to help the peasant.... 'Don't touch him, master! the forester shouted to me. I should not have feared his threats, and already had my fist in the air; but to my intense amazement, with one pull he tugged the kerchief off the peasant's elbows, took him by the scruff of the neck, thrust his cap over his eyes, opened the door, and shoved him out.
'Let me go, repeated the peasant. 'Our manager ... we 're ruined, that's what it is let me go! 'Ruined, indeed!... Nobody need steal. 'Let me go, Foma Kuzmitch.... Don't destroy me. Your manager, you know yourself, will have no mercy on me; that's what it is. Biryuk turned away. The peasant was shivering as though he were in the throes of fever.
A curly, black beard hid half of his stern and manly face; small brown eyes looked out boldly from under broad eyebrows which met in the middle. He stood before me, his arms held lightly akimbo. I thanked him, and asked his name. 'Oh, you're Biryuk. I looked with redoubled curiosity at him.
The outline of the trees, drenched with rain, and stirred by the wind, began to stand out in the darkness. We listened. The forester took off his cap and bent his head.... 'Th ... there! he said suddenly, and he stretched out his hand: 'see what a night he's pitched on. I had heard nothing but the rustle of the leaves. Biryuk led the mare out of the shed.
Don't you see the gentleman, hey? The poor wretch hung his head.... Biryuk yawned and laid his head on the table. The rain still persisted. I was waiting to see what would happen. Suddenly the peasant stood erect. His eyes were glittering, and his face flushed dark red.
'No, no, you've made a mistake, Biryuk declared panting; 'you're not going to get off.... I rushed in the direction of the noise, and ran up to the scene of the conflict, stumbling at every step. A felled tree lay on the ground, and near it Biryuk was busily engaged holding the thief down and binding his hands behind his back with a kerchief. I came closer. Biryuk got up and set him on his feet.
With difficulty we made our way to the hut. Biryuk pushed the captured horse into the middle of the yard, led the peasant into the room, loosened the knot in the kerchief, and made him sit down in a corner. The little girl, who had fallen asleep near the oven, jumped up and began staring at us in silent terror. I sat down on the locker.
I began listening with strained attention. Across the continual roar of the wind faint sounds from close by reached me; there was a cautious blow of an axe on the brushwood, the crash of wheels, the snort of a horse.... 'Where are you off to? Stop! the iron voice of Biryuk thundered suddenly. Another voice was heard in a pitiful shriek, like a trapped hare.... A struggle was beginning.
From my Yermolai and others I had often heard stories about the forester Biryuk, whom all the peasants of the surrounding districts feared as they feared fire. According to them there had never been such a master of his business in the world before.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking