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Polutikin ordered the coachman to stop at a low-pitched cottage and called loudly, 'Kalinitch! 'Coming, your honour, coming' sounded a voice from the yard; 'I am tying on my shoes. We went on at a walk; outside the village a man of about forty over-took us. He was tall and thin, with a small and erect head. It was Kalinitch.
'In that counting-house I sold the merchant Alliluev four acres of forest-land for a good price. We took our seats in the cart, and in half-an-hour we had reached the court of the manor- house. 'Tell me, please, I asked Polutikin at supper; 'why does Hor live apart from your other peasants? 'Well, this is why; he is a clever peasant.
In a well-cultivated clearing in the middle of the forest rose Hor's solitary homestead. It consisted of several pine-wood buildings, enclosed by plank fences; a porch ran along the front of the principal building, supported on slender posts. We went in. We were met by a young lad of twenty, tall and good-looking. 'Ah, Fedya! is Hor at home? Mr. Polutikin asked him. 'No.
Polutikin told me; 'he is a willing and useful peasant; he can't farm his land properly; I am always taking him away from it. He goes out hunting every day with me.... You can judge for yourself how his farming must fare. I agreed with him, and we went to bed. The next day Mr. Polutikin was obliged to go to town about some business with his neighbour Pitchukoff.
But, with the exception of these few and insignificant failings, Mr. Polutikin was, as has been said already, an excellent fellow. On the first day of my acquaintance with Mr. Polutikin, he invited me to stay the night at his house. 'Who is Hor? 'A peasant of mine. He is quite close by here. We went in that direction.
Only mind what you're about over the ruts, and easy a little; don't tip the cart over, and upset the master's stomach! The other Horkies smiled at Fedya's sally. 'Lift Astronomer in! Mr. Polutikin called majestically. Fedya, not without amusement, lifted the dog, who wore a forced smile, into the air, and laid her at the bottom of the cart. Vasya let the horse go. We rolled away.
'And here is my counting-house, said Mr. Polutikin suddenly to me, pointing to a little low-pitched house. 'Shall we go in? 'By all means. 'It is no longer used, he observed, going in; 'still, it is worth looking at. The counting-house consisted of two empty rooms. The caretaker, a one- eyed old man, ran out of the yard. 'Good day, Minyaitch, said Mr.
She stood in awe of her husband though, and would return, at his command, to her place on the stove. It was specially curious to hear Hor and Kalinitch dispute whenever Mr. Polutikin was touched upon. 'There, Hor, do let him alone, Kalinitch would say. 'But why doesn't he order some boots for you? Hor retorted. 'Eh? boots!... what do I want with boots?
His good-humoured; swarthy face, somewhat pitted with small-pox, pleased me from the first glance. Polutikin could not stir a step without him. Kalinitch was a man of the merriest and gentlest disposition; he was constantly singing to himself in a low voice, and looking carelessly about him.
'No, it will rain, Kalinitch replied; 'the ducks yonder are splashing, and the scent of the grass is strong. We drove into the copse. Kalinitch began singing in an undertone as he was jolted up and down on the driver's seat, and he kept gazing and gazing at the sunset. The next day I left the hospitable roof of Mr. Polutikin.
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