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Updated: June 5, 2025
"Nay, come along! come along! my worthy neighbour, don't stand on any ceremony with us, you can see for yourself how merry we are!" The worthy neighbour thereupon gingerly entered, on the tips of his toes, with his hands fumbling nervously about in the breast of his kaftan; for the poor fellow's hands were resinous to a degree.
He turned away from them with a look of pain, as if their words had stung him. They followed him and touched his kaftan with their lips; they pushed their children under his hands for his blessing. "No, no," he cried; "no, no, no!" Then he passed out of the place with rapid steps and fled from the town like one who was ashamed.
There stood the patient bearded muzhik in his well-worn sheepskin; the big, burly, self-satisfied merchant in his long black glossy kaftan; the noble with fashionable great-coat and umbrella; thinly clad old women shivering in the cold, and bright-eyed young damsels with their warm cloaks drawn closely round them; old men with long beard, wallet, and pilgrim's staff; and mischievous urchins with faces for the moment preternaturally demure.
He took a bath quickly, anointed his body, put on fresh linen, a new kaftan, a helmet with plumes, and then went to Sarah. Sarah screamed when she saw the prince arrayed thus. She rose up, and seizing him around the neck, whispered, "Thou art going, my lord! Thou wilt not come back to me." "Why not?" wondered the heir. "Have I not gone away often and returned afterward?"
Poniatowski, the father of the future King of Poland, who was following the campaign as a volunteer Charles had refused to take any Polish troops with him on account of their want of discipline rallied one of Colonel Horn's squadrons to escort the King, and received seventeen bullets through his leather kaftan while covering the royal retreat.
As Kaftan argues, we can escape the dreadful externality and artificiality of this scheme, only as redemption and regeneration are brought back to their primary place in consciousness. These are the initial experiences in which we become aware of God's work through Christ in us and for us. The reconciliation is of us. The redemption is from our sins. The regeneration is to a new moral life.
Under the k`sa was a long garment with wide sleeves and buttoned all down the front a kaftan of sea-green cloth, embroidered with gold. The kaftan just revealed a waistcoat of a shade of blue, with gold and green buttons and embroidery. Underneath this, and above his white cotton shirt and drawers, he probably wore a woollen jacket. But greens and blues and gold were alone visible.
His wife coming, said, 'O Cogia, why have you acted in this manner? 'I would have over him, said the Cogia, 'if he had done so over me. One day the Cogia's wife, having washed the Cogia's kaftan, hung it upon a tree to dry; the Cogia going out saw, as he supposed, a man standing in the tree with his arms stretched out.
Unfastening his old black girdle, he slowly divested himself of his torn nankeen kaftan, and deposited it carefully on the back of a chair. His face had now lost its usual disquietude and idiocy. On the contrary, it had in it something restful, thoughtful, and even grand, while all his movements were deliberate and intelligent.
The coachman was seated on the box in a kaftan, with a silver belt, and the horses were jingling their silver bells from time to time. A bare-headed, barefooted peasant in a ragged kaftan stood at the front door. He bowed. Volgin asked what he wanted. "I have come to see Nicholas Petrovich." "What about?" "Because I am in distress my horse has died." Volgin began to question him.
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