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Updated: June 15, 2025
"About the sky, and the thunder, and the dogs, and the flies, and the birds, and the trees, and the milk?" "There is a story about everyone of those things." "I know something there isn't a story about," said Vanya. "And what's that?" asked old Peter, smiling in his beard. "Salt," said Vanya. "There can't be a story about salt."
And she has never yet learnt how it was that he knew what she did in the hut while he was away in the forest. "Yes," said Maroosia, "but then she was a bad woman; and besides, my husband would never call me an old witch." "Old witch!" said Vanya, and bolted out of the hut with Maroosia after him; and so old Peter was left in peace.
Sometimes it was Vanya who scolded Maroosia, and sometimes it was Maroosia who scolded Vanya. Sometimes there were two scoldings going on at once. And old Peter did not like crossness in the hut, whoever did the scolding. He said it spoilt his tobacco and put a sour taste in the tea.
And ever since then the Tzars of Russia have kept the silver saucer and the transparent apple, so that, whenever they wish, they can see everything that is going on all over Russia. Perhaps even now the Tzar, the little father God preserve him! is spinning the apple in the saucer, and looking at us, and thinking it is time that two little pigeons were in bed. "Is that the end?" said Vanya.
At last, towards evening, old Peter packed what was left of the hay into the cart, and packed Vanya and Maroosia in with the hay. Everybody said good-byes all round, and Peter climbed in and took up the rope reins. "He'll be a fine man," he shouted through the door to Nastasia, "a fine man; and God grant he'll be as healthy as he is good.
He laughed, and said that he did not think counter-revolution in the least likely unless brought in by invasion, which he did not think politically possible. February 21st. I saw Chekhov's "Uncle Vanya" acted by the cast of the Art Theatre in the First Studio. This is a little theatre holding just over 200 people. It was of course full.
Till we meet again," he cried out merrily to the villagers; and Vanya and Maroosia waved their hands, and off they drove, back again to the hut in the forest. They were very much quieter on the way back than they had been when they drove to the village in the morning. And the early summer day was quiet as it came to its end.
Liza suddenly clutched at her head, made a movement, and falling on the seat, began shaking all over. "Vanya," she wailed, "Vanya! I will go to Vanya. . . . Darling!" She had a fit of hysterics. . . . And from that evening, right up to July, two shadows could be seen in the park in which the summer visitors took their walks.
"It means that Prince Ivan and the Sun's little sister have gone to sleep over their games and forgotten to put their toys away." This is the story which old Peter used to tell whenever either Vanya or Maroosia was cross. This did not often happen; but it would be no use to pretend that it never happened at all.
Vanya knits his brows and ponders what to pitch upon to howl over. He has already begun screwing up his eyes and opening his mouth, but at that instant the voice of mamma reaches them from the drawing-room, saying: "Don't forget to give the cat her milk, she has a family now!" The children's puckered countenances grow smooth again as they look at each other in astonishment.
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