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Updated: May 31, 2025
They had ridiculed her at first, and made life a burden to her with insults and practical jokes, but she bore these things stolidly and at last won their respect and affection. The regiment entrained for the front and Yashka went with it.
"But I have seen him." "Well? What sort of man is he?" "The devil knows him! What have I to do with him?" "Is he like his father?" "He's stouter, plumper; there is more seriousness about him; he is so cold." "Which means that he will be even worse than Yashka. Well, now, my dear, be on your guard or they will suck you dry." "Well, let them do it!" "They'll rob you. You'll become a pauper.
Kornilov desired her to return with word from him for the loyalists who were hiding in many places in Russia, but in trying to cross the lines again Yashka found herself entrapped by her enemies. Throwing off her disguise she boldly disclosed herself to them, saying she was on her way to undergo treatment at a hospital for a severe wound she had received while in the Russian army.
"You will make a poor merchant, if you do not understand the power of money." "Who does understand it?" asked Foma. "I!" said Shchurov, with confidence. "And every clever man. Yashka understands it. Money? That is a great deal, my lad! Just spread it out before you and think, 'What does it contain? Then will you know that all this is human strength, human mind.
The name of Yashka was known throughout the Russian army, and numbers of curious soldiers crowded around her when she happened to go to some part of the field where she had not previously been seen. Then began the terrible Russian revolution a revolution more dreadful than the French Terror in 1793.
Knowing that this action would result in an attack by the Russians, Yashka hastily assembled her Battalion and marched them away with all their equipment, taking concealment in a nearby wood from which the girls were hurried to the rear and discharged in a score of stations, making their way to their homes as best they might.
The Gabbler threw himself on his neck and began strangling him in his long, bony arms; a flush came out on Nikolai Ivanitch's oily face, and he seemed to have grown younger; Yashka shouted like mad: 'Capital, capital! even my neighbour, the peasant in the torn smock, could not restrain himself, and with a blow of his fist on the table he cried: 'Aha! well done, damn my soul, well done! And he spat on one side with an air of decision.
It often happened, too, that the teacher read lectures on practical morality in the eating-house. "I saw you," he said to the painter Yashka Tyarin, "I saw you, Yakov, beating your wife ..." Yashka was "touched with paint" after two glasses of vodki, and was in a slightly uplifted condition. The people looked at him, expecting him to make a row, and all were silent. "Did you see me?
During dinner Arátoff chatted a great deal with Platósha, questioned her about old times, which, by the way, she recalled and transmitted badly, as she was not possessed of a very glib tongue, and had noticed hardly anything in the course of her life save her Yáshka. She merely rejoiced that he was so good-natured and affectionate that day!
And from that day forth nothing but misfortune befell in that Yashka took to drink, the Jewess gave way to repining, and Mitri had to go perambulating the town with piteous invitations to 'come and see, my brethren, to what depths I have sunk! And though, eventually, the Jewess died of a bloody flux, of a miscarriage, the past was beyond mending, and, while the son went to the bad, and took to drink for good and all, the father 'fell a victim by night to untimely death. Yes, the lives of two folk were thus undone by 'the thorn-bearing company of Judaea. Like ourselves, the Hebrew has a destiny of his own.
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