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Updated: April 30, 2025
Sofron heard his master's remarks out with attention, sometimes replied, but did not now address Arkady Pavlitch as his father, or his benefactor, and kept insisting that there was too little land; that it would be a good thing to buy more. 'Well, buy some then, said Arkady Pavlitch; 'I've no objection; in my name, of course. To this Sofron made no reply; he merely stroked his beard.
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.
'Well, then, now I suppose you 're satisfied. Sofron had only been waiting for this. 'Ah, you are our father, our benefactor! he began, in the same sing- song as before. 'Indeed, now, your honour ... why, for you, our father, we pray day and night to God Almighty.... There's too little land, of course.... Pyenotchkin cut him short.
The young peasant prostrated himself too. Arkady Pavlitch looked at their bent necks with an air of dignity, threw back his head, and stood with his legs rather wide apart. 'What is it? Whom do you complain of? 'Have mercy, lord! Let us breathe.... We are crushed, worried, tormented to death quite. 'Who worries you? 'Sofron Yakovlitch, your honour. Arkady Pavlitch was silent a minute.
In regard to forestry, Arkady Pavlitch clung to the Russian ideas, and told me on that subject an amusing in his words anecdote, of how a jocose landowner had given his forester a good lesson by pulling out nearly half his beard, by way of a proof that growth is none the thicker for being cut back. In other matters, however, neither Sofron nor Arkady Pavlitch objected to innovations.
On our return to the village, the agent took us to look at a winnowing machine he had recently ordered from Moscow. The winnowing machine did certainly work beautifully, but if Sofron had known what a disagreeable incident was in store for him and his master on this last excursion, he would doubtless have stopped at home with us. This was what happened.
'There, that'll do, that'll do, Sofron; I know you're eager in my service.... Well, and how goes the threshing? Sofron sighed. 'Well, our father, the threshing's none too good. 'How was that? 'I can't think myself, your honour; it seems like the doing of the evil one. But, luckily, it was found near the boundary; on our side of it, to tell the truth.
You'll break my heart, your honour; your honour didn't graciously let me know of your visit. Where are you to put up for the night? You see here it's dirty, nasty. 'Nonsense, Sofron, nonsense! Arkady Pavlitch responded, with a smile; 'it's all right here. 'But, our father, all right for whom?
The next morning we got up rather early; I was getting ready to start for Ryabovo, but Arkady Pavlitch was anxious to show me his estate, and begged me to remain. I was not averse myself to seeing more of the first-rate qualities of that man of administrative power Sofron in their practical working. The agent made his appearance.
The bailiff drove a duck away from the puddle. The suppliants remained as they were a little, then looked at each other, and, without turning their heads, went on their way. Two hours later I was at Ryabovo, and making ready to begin shooting, accompanied by Anpadist, a peasant I knew well. Pyenotchkin had been out of humour with Sofron up to the time I left.
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