Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 2, 2025
"Our Mother Russia is the he-ad of all the world!" Kiruha sang out suddenly in a harsh voice, choked and subsided. The steppe echo caught up his voice, carried it on, and it seemed as though stupidity itself were rolling on heavy wheels over the steppe. "It's time to go," said Panteley. "Get up, lads."
Vassya had once worked in a match factory; Kiruha had been a coachman in a good family, and had been reckoned the smartest driver of a three-in-hand in the whole district.
Panteley looked at the cross and then at Dymov and asked: "Nikola, isn't this the place where the mowers killed the merchants?" Dymov not very readily raised himself on his elbow, looked at the road and said: "Yes, it is. . . ." A silence followed. Kiruha broke up some dry stalks, crushed them up together and thrust them under the cauldron.
It's gone!" Moving more to the left, Dymov and Kiruha picked out a shallower place, and then fishing began in earnest. They had wandered off some hundred paces from the waggons; they could be seen silently trying to go as deep as they could and as near the reeds, moving their legs a little at a time, drawing out the nets, beating the water with their fists to drive them towards the nets.
Every time Dymov, Kiruha and Styopka pulled out the net they could be seen fumbling about in the mud in it, putting some things into the pail and throwing other things away; sometimes they passed something that was in the net from hand to hand, examined it inquisitively, then threw that, too, away. "What is it?" they shouted to them from the bank.
He drank laughing, often turning from the pail to tell Kiruha something funny, then he turned round, and uttered aloud, to be heard all over the steppe, five very bad words. Yegorushka did not understand the meaning of such words, but he knew very well they were bad words. He knew the repulsion his friends and relations silently felt for such words.
A mile from the village the waggons stopped by a well with a crane. Letting his pail down into the well, black-bearded Kiruha lay on his stomach on the framework and thrust his shaggy head, his shoulders, and part of his chest into the black hole, so that Yegorushka could see nothing but his short legs, which scarcely touched the ground.
While the dry twigs and stems were burning up, Kiruha and Vassya went off somewhere to get water from a creek; they vanished into the darkness, but could be heard all the time talking and clinking their pails; so the creek was not far away. The light from the fire lay a great flickering patch on the earth; though the moon was bright, yet everything seemed impenetrably black beyond that red patch.
All except Panteley sat down near the cauldron and set to work with their spoons. "You there! Give the little lad a spoon!" Panteley observed sternly. "I dare say he is hungry too!" "Ours is peasant fare," sighed Kiruha. "Peasant fare is welcome, too, when one is hungry." They gave Yegorushka a spoon.
I have parted. This month, just after St. Peter's Day, I got married. I am a married man now! . . . It's eighteen days since the wedding." "That's a good thing," said Panteley. "Marriage is a good thing . . . . God's blessing is on it." "His young wife sits at home while he rambles about the steppe," laughed Kiruha. "Queer chap!"
Word Of The Day
Others Looking