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Arkady Pavlitch, before falling asleep, talked a little more about the first-rate qualities of the Russian peasant, and at that point made the observation that since Sofron had had the management of the place, the Shipilovka peasants had never been one farthing in arrears.... The watchman struck his board; a baby, who apparently had not yet had time to be imbued with a sentiment of dutiful self-abnegation, began crying somewhere in the cottage ... we fell asleep.
And where are you going to shoot just now? 'Thirty-five miles from here, at Ryabovo. 'Ryabovo? By Jove! now in that case I will come with you. Ryabovo's only four miles from my village Shipilovka, and it's a long while since I've been over to Shipilovka; I've never been able to get the time.
With all this, we were rather a long time on the road; I was in the same carriage as Arkady Pavlitch, and towards the end of the journey I was a prey to deadly boredom, especially as in a few hours my companion ran perfectly dry of subjects of conversation, and even fell to expressing his liberal views on politics. At last we did arrive not at Ryabovo, but at Shipilovka; it happened so somehow.
I began talking to Anpadist about the Shipilovka peasants, and Mr. Pyenotchkin, and asked him whether he knew the agent there. 'Sofron Yakovlitch? ... ugh! 'What sort of man is he? 'He's not a man; he's a dog; you couldn't find another brute like him between here and Kursk. 'Really? 'Why, Shipilovka's hardly reckoned as what's his name? Mr.
Well, this is a piece of luck; you can spend the day shooting in Ryabovo and come on in the evening to me. We'll have supper together we'll take the cook with us, and you'll stay the night with me. Capital! capital! he added without waiting for my answer. 'C'est arrange.... Hey, you there! Have the carriage brought out, and look sharp. You have never been in Shipilovka?
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