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Updated: May 27, 2025
Right opposite him, on a bench under the holy pictures, was sitting Yashka's rival, the booth-keeper from Zhizdry; he was a short, stoutly-built man about thirty, pock-marked, and curly-headed, with a blunt, turn-up nose, lively brown eyes, and a scanty beard.
The Gabbler at last was swinging his legs, tapping with his feet and twitching his shoulder, while Yashka's eyes fairly glowed like coal, and he trembled all over like a leaf, and smiled nervously.
Yashka's got a bet on with the booth-keeper: the stake's a pot of beer for the one that does best, sings the best, I mean... do you see? 'Is Yashka going to sing? said the man addressed as Blinkard, with lively interest. 'But isn't it your humbug, Gabbler? 'I'm not humbugging, answered the Gabbler, with dignity; 'it's you are crazy.
"It is my intention to devote myself to the profession of learning, and I have some protection; I shall enter the university and become a doctor, for I feel a strong bent for science." I read Yáshka's letter and became sadder than before; but I did not share my grief with any one.
Soon after Yashka's arrival the officers attempted to put her plan into operation and launch an attack against the Germans, but the soldiers refused to obey and the battalion of women moved out almost unsupported against the enemy, who promptly opened a heavy fire. Their example was tardily followed by the men and a general attack was delivered on a wide portion of the line.
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