Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"I'll join the army all the same," announced Yefim obstinately. "Who's trying to dissuade you?" exclaimed Ignaty. "Go!" He looked Yefim straight in the face, and said with a smile: "If you're going to shoot at me, aim at the head. Don't just wound me; kill me at once." "I hear what you're saying," Yefim replied sharply.
"Yes," Rybin drawled sullenly. "That's the course of action they've decided on to go out openly." "If we were to arrange such a parade here," said Yefim, with a surly smile, "they'd hack the peasants to death." "They certainly would," Ignaty assented, nodding his head. "No, I'll go to the factory. It's better there." "You say Pavel's going to be tried?" asked Rybin. "Yes.
"Why, the peasants are themselves going to take the land from everyone else. They'll wash it out with their blood from under the gentry and the rich; that is to say, they themselves are going to divide it, and divide it so that there won't be masters or workingmen anymore. How then? What's the use of getting into a scrap if not for that?" Ignaty even seemed to be offended.
They're everywhere; but it's hard to get at them. They hide themselves in chinks and crevices, and suck their hearts out each one for himself. Their resolution isn't strong enough to make them gather into a group." Nikolay brought a bottle of alcohol, put coals in the samovar, and walked away silently. Ignaty accompanied him with a curious look. "A gentleman?"
"Ah, you, my child!" Ignaty, embarrassed, smiled. "Well, there you are child!" he said. Nikolay began to speak, all the time looking good-naturedly with screwed-up eyes at the young peasant. "You're not going there!" "Then what'll I do? Where am I to be?" Ignaty asked uneasily. "Another fellow will go in place of you. And you'll tell him in detail what to do and how to do it."
Kneeling on the floor in front of the peasant, he quickly unwound the dirty, damp wrappings. "Well!" the fellow exclaimed quietly, pulling back his foot and blinking in astonishment. He regarded the mother, who said, without paying attention to his look: "His legs ought to be rubbed down with alcohol." "Of course!" said Nikolay. Ignaty snorted in embarrassment.
Yakob simply says, 'I can't. And that fellow can't either; but he wants to; he has an object in view. He thinks he can stir the soldiers. My opinion is, you can't break through a wall with your forehead. Bayonets in their hands, off they go where? They don't see they're going against themselves. Yes, he's suffering. And Ignaty worries him uselessly." "No, not at all!" said Ignaty.
Word Of The Day