Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 16, 2025
One had nearly thrown the other, who was resisting with all his might. And both were breathing heavily. "Let go!" said one of them and I recognised Ivan Cheprakov. It was he who had cried out in a thin, falsetto voice. "Let go, damn you, or I'll bite your hands!" The other man I recognised as Moissey. I parted them and could not resist hitting Moissey in the face twice.
He got tired of it and went back to Dubechnia, and some time later I was told by the peasants that he had been inciting them to kill Moissey one night and rob Mrs. Cheprakov. My father has got very old and bent, and just takes a little walk in the evening near his house.
"We must go back soon, for my father would only let me have until six o'clock." "Oh, your father," sighed the doctor. I made tea, and we drank it sitting on a carpet in front of the terrace, and the doctor, kneeling, drank from his saucer, and said that he was perfectly happy. Then Cheprakov fetched the key and unlocked the glass door and we all entered the house.
Poor Ivan Cheprakov used to hang about the town, doing nothing and drinking. I tried to give him a job in our business, and for a time he worked with us painting roofs and glazing, and he rather took to it, and, like a regular house-painter, he stole the oil, and asked for tips, and got drunk. But it soon bored him.
Cheprakov, a very stout elderly lady, with slanting, Chinese eyes, sat by the window, in a big chair, knitting a stocking. She received me ceremoniously. "It is Pologniev, mother," said Cheprakov, introducing me. "He is going to work here." "Are you a nobleman?" she asked in a strange, unpleasant voice as though she had boiling fat in her throat. "Yes," I answered. "Sit down." The dinner was bad.
He used to shoot in our garden, under our very windows, steal food from our larder, borrow our horses without leave, and we were furious, feeling that Dubechnia was no longer ours, and Masha used to go pale and say: "Have we to live another year and a half with these creatures?" Ivan Cheprakov, the son, was a guard on the railway.
It was Ivan Cheprakov, my school friend, who was expelled, when he was in the second class, for smoking. Once, during the autumn, we were out catching goldfinches, starlings, and hawfinches, to sell them in the market early in the morning when our parents were still asleep.
As there was not enough work for one, Cheprakov did nothing, but slept or went down to the pool with his gun to shoot ducks. In the evenings he got drunk in the village, or at the station, and before going to bed he would look in the glass and say: "How are you, Ivan Cheprakov?" When he was drunk, he was very pale and used to rub his hands and laugh, or rather neigh, He-he-he!
When Cheprakov's mother sold, she stipulated for the right to live in one of the wings for another two years and got her son a job in the office. "Why shouldn't he buy?" said Cheprakov of the engineer. "He gets a lot from the contractors. He bribes them all." Then he took me to dinner, deciding in his emphatic way that I was to live with him in the wing and board with his mother.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking