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Updated: May 17, 2025
"They might close your school," suggested Piotr in a tone of sharp derision. "And again they might not," asserted Trirodov. "But if they should?" persisted Piotr. "Let us hope for the best," said Rameyev. Elisaveta looked affectionately at her father.
In the midst of them he was summoned to another meal; and he followed Piotr docilely to the table, this time trying to force a little food between his lips. It did not occur to him to re-enter the bedroom; afterwards he wondered why. Neither, however, did he think of going to bed. Numberless people were calling at the palace for information: among them the Governor-General, who came in person.
Piotr, annoyed at being disconcerted by the stranger's question, said sharply: "A vagrant is one who roams about without shelter and without money and obtrudes upon others instead of attending to his own business." "Thank you for the definition," said Ostrov with a bow. "It is true that I have but little money and that I'm compelled to roam about such is the nature of my profession."
Then Ivan took an axe from under his skirt, came up to the master from behind, knocked off his cap, and saying, 'I warned you, Piotr Petrovitch you've yourself to blame now! he struck off his head at one blow. Then he stopped the ponies, put the cap on his dead master, and, getting on the box-seat again, drove him to the town, straight to the courts of justice.
He knew that Elisaveta did not even suspect his love, and that she looked at him as at an infant. Sometimes in his helplessness he hated her. He said to Piotr: "I shouldn't walk about with a long face if I were you. She is not worthy of your love. She puts on airs. Elena is much better. Elena is a dear, while the other fancies all sorts of things." Piotr walked away from him in silence.
Trirodov trembled nervously. Piotr, in turning the prism rather awkwardly, struck it against the edge of the table. Trirodov shivered, shouted something incoherently, and, snatching the prism from Piotr's hands, said in an agitated voice: "Please put it down!" Piotr looked in astonishment at Trirodov, who was visibly confused. Piotr smiled unwillingly and asked: "Why, what is it?"
The muzhik is not as stupid as all that. And in any case, let me ask you what hindered the opposing side from hammering the right ideas into the muzhik's mind?" Piotr got up angrily and strode away without saying another word. Rameyev looked quietly after him and said to Stchemilov: "Piotr loves culture, or, more properly speaking, civilization, too well to appreciate freedom.
One was Piotr, a soldier from Kaluga; the other Semyon, a peasant from Vladimir. They possessed nothing except the wages of their body and hands. And with these hands they earned, by dint of very hard labor, from forty to forty-five kopeks a day, out of which each of them was laying by savings, the Kaluga man for a fur coat, the Vladimir man in order to get enough to return to his village.
Piotr was promptly dismissed, and Ivan seated at the huge table whence he could gaze at the burly figure opposite him as long as his eyes had courage to look up. Nevertheless the pause was uncomfortable enough; and the boy was glad when the silence ended. "Ivan! you're now at the age at which I entered my first battle as drummer-boy and had Hm! my first love-affair. Are you in love?"
"Uncle, I did not suspect you of being such an amoralist," said Piotr in vexation. "There is morality and morality," replied Rameyev, not without some confusion. "I do not uphold depravity, but nevertheless demand freedom of thought and feeling. A free feeling is always innocent." "And what will you say of those naked girls in his woods is that also innocent?" asked Piotr rather spitefully.
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