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Peter's day. They told me that on the day of her death she kept hearing the sound of bells, though it was reckoned over five miles from Aleksyevka to the church, and it was a week-day. Lukerya, however, had said that the sounds came not from the church, but from above! Probably she did not dare to say from heaven. 'I've something to tell you, observed Yermolai, coming into the hut to see me.
Yermolai was under orders to provide his master's kitchen with two brace of grouse and partridges once a month. But he might live where and how he pleased. They had given him up as a man of no use for work of any kind 'bone lazy, as the expression is among us in Orel.
I did not allow him to finish, but assured him that, on the contrary, it would be a great pleasure to me to dine with him. 'Well, you know best. We went into the house. A young man in a long coat of stout blue cloth met us on the steps. Radilov at once told him to bring Yermolai some vodka; my huntsman made a respectful bow to the back of the munificent host.
She was leaning her elbows on her knees, and had her face in her hands. Yermolai was sitting with his back to me, and thrusting sticks into the fire. 'They've the cattle-plague again at Zheltonhiny, the miller's wife was saying; 'father Ivan's two cows are dead Lord have mercy on them! 'And how are your pigs doing? asked Yermolai, after a brief pause. 'They're alive.
The approach of Yermolai with Vladimir and the man with the strange nickname, Sutchok, broke in on my meditations. Barelegged, ragged and dishevelled, Sutchok looked like a discharged stray house-serf of sixty years old. 'Have you a boat? I asked him. 'I have a boat, he answered in a hoarse, cracked voice; 'but it's a very poor one. 'How so?
In the heat of the sport we did not pay attention to the state of our punt when suddenly, Yermolai, in trying to reach a wounded duck, leaned his whole weight on the boat's-edge; at his over-eager movement our old tub veered on one side, began to fill, and majestically sank to the bottom, fortunately not in a deep place.
The coachman kept flicking gadflies off the horses with his whip. The white dust rose in a light cloud behind the cart. We drove in between bushes. The road here was full of ruts, and the wheels began catching in the twigs. Yermolai started up and looked round.... 'Hullo! he said; 'there ought to be grouse here. Let's get out. We stopped and went into the thicket. My dog hit upon a covey.
Tatyana Vassilyevna God rest her soul! did not allow anyone to marry. "God forbid!" she said sometimes, "here am I living single: what indulgence! What are they thinking of!" 'What do you live on now? Do you get wages? 'Wages, your honour!... Victuals are given me, and thanks be to Thee, Lord! I am very contented. May God give our lady long life! Yermolai returned.
'Fish don't like slimy marshes, observed my huntsman, with the air of an authority. 'Come, I said to Yermolai, 'go and get some tow, and make the boat right for us as soon as you can. Yermolai went off. 'Well, in this way we may very likely go to the bottom, I said to Vladimir. 'God is merciful, he answered. 'Anyway, we must suppose that the pond is not deep.
'And he will perish without doing any good, added Vladimir piteously. Yermolai did not return for more than an hour. That hour seemed an eternity to us. At first we kept calling to him very energetically; then his answering shouts grew less frequent; at last he was completely silent. The bells in the village began ringing for evening service.
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