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The more they frowned at him, the louder he laughed, and in spite of their dark looks he kept on cracking his merry jokes and talking nonsense. And every evening after supper his little sister, Militza, clapped her hands and cried: "Now, Stefan, tell me a story! Tell me a story!" "Father," Mihailo would say, "you ought to make him keep quiet!

There was once a farmer who had three sons and one little daughter. The eldest son was a studious boy who learned so much out of books that the farmer said: "We must send Mihailo to school and make a priest of him." The second boy was a trader. Whatever you had he would get it from you by offering you something else for it. And always what he gave you was worth less than what you gave him.

While Alexandra Pavlovna busied herself with her son, Pigasov walked off muttering to the other corner of the balcony. Suddenly, not far off on the road that ran the length of the garden, Mihailo Mihailitch made his appearance driving his racing droshky. Two huge house-dogs ran before the horse, one yellow, the other grey, both only lately obtained.

Alexandra Pavlovna tried to keep Lezhnyov, but he went quickly away, and going into the garden without his cap, he leaned on a little gate and began looking about him. 'Mihailo Mihailitch! sounded the voice of a maid-servant behind him, 'please come in to my lady. She sent me to call you.

The point is, that Rudin's words seem to remain mere words, and never to pass into deeds and meanwhile even words may trouble a young heart, may be the ruin of it. 'But whom do you mean, Mihailo Mihailitch? Lezhnyov paused. 'Do you want to know whom I mean, Natalya Alexyevna? Alexandra Pavlovna was taken aback for a moment, but she began to smile the instant after.

Give my love to your mother, Mihailo. Give my love to them all. And you, Ignatyev, mind you don't forget to give the parcel to Bystretsov.... Off!" The driver took the reins in one hand, blew his nose, and, arranging the seat under himself, clicked to the horses. "Give them my love," the postmaster repeated.

"I suppose the doctors have come again," said the coachman. "Our Mihailo is run off his legs...." A strange wailing voice rang out for a moment in the air. Alyoshka looked in alarm at his grandfather, the coachman; then at the windows, and said: "He stroked me on the head at the gate yesterday, and said, 'What district do you come from, boy? Grandfather, who was that howled just now?"

Half an hour later, Alexandra Pavlovna again came to the door. 'Mihailo Mihailitch is here, she said, 'will you see him? 'Yes, answered Volintsev, 'let them show him up here. Lezhnyov came in. 'What, aren't you well? he asked, seating himself in a chair near the sofa.

And indeed, after all, fine speaking is pardonable in a boy, but at his years it is disgraceful to take pleasure in the sound of his own voice, and to show off! 'I think, Mihailo Mihailitch, it's all the same for those who hear him, whether he is showing off or not. 'Excuse me, Alexandra Pavlovna, it is not all the same.

'A certain Lezhnyov, Mihailo Mihailitch, a landowner here. Rudin seemed astonished; he raised his head. 'Lezhnyov Mihailo Mihailitch? he questioned. 'Is he a neighbour of yours? 'Yes. Do you know him? Rudin did not speak for a minute. 'I used to know him long ago. He is a rich man, I suppose? he added, pulling the fringe on his chair.