Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 28, 2025
He put everything in order, mended his kaftan, cleaned and polished his brass plate until it fairly shone. Vasily also worked hard. The Chief arrived on a trolley, four men working the handles and the levers making the six wheels hum. The trolley travelled at twenty versts an hour, but the wheels squeaked. It reached Semyon's hut, and he ran out and reported in soldierly fashion.
Take your places in pairs as you wish, but I ask you to hurry up." Werner pointed to Yanson, who was now standing, supported by two gendarmes. "I will go with him. And you, Seryozha, take Vasily. Go ahead." "Very well." "You and I go together, Musechka, shall we not?" asked Tanya Kovalchuk. "Come, let us kiss each other good-by." They kissed one another quickly.
However, after another month or so they became acquainted. Semyon would go with Vasily along the line, sit on the edge of a pipe, smoke, and talk of life. Vasily, for the most part, kept silent, but Semyon talked of his village, and of the campaign through which he had passed. "I have had no little sorrow in my day," he would say; "and goodness knows I have not lived long.
A mist swam before Semyon's eyes; he wanted to cry out, but could not. It was Vasily! Semyon scrambled up the bank, as Vasily with crow-bar and wrench slid headlong down the other side. "Vasily Stepanych! My dear friend, come back! Give me the crow-bar. We will put the rail back; no one will know. Come back! Save your soul from sin!" Vasily did not look back, but disappeared into the woods.
Ivan, unable to restrain himself, exclaimed: "Oh, you jewel of a mother!" Vasily squatted down on his heels, looked into the pot, and a bundle of books disappeared into his bosom. "Ivan!" he said aloud. "Let's not go home, let's get our dinner here from her!" And he quickly shoved the books into the legs of his boots. "We must give our new peddler a lift, don't you think so?" "Yes, indeed!"
When his mother began to cry, something human again flashed for an instant, but at the very first words it disappeared again, and it was interesting and terrible to see that water was flowing from the eyes of the doll. Then, in his cell, when the terror had become unbearable, Vasily Kashirin attempted to pray.
They saw a man lying senseless on the footway, drenched in blood, and another man standing beside him with a blood-stained rag on a stick. Vasily looked around at all. Then, lowering his head, he said: "Bind me. I tore up a rail!" Olenka, the daughter of the retired collegiate assessor Plemyanikov, was sitting on the back-door steps of her house doing nothing.
More touching are the funerals which pass up the Prospekt on their way to the unfashionable cemetery across the Neva, on Vasily Ostroff; a tiny pink coffin resting on the knees of the bereaved parents in a sledge, or borne by a couple of bareheaded men, with one or two mourners walking slowly behind. From noon onward, the scene on the Prospekt increases constantly in vivacity.
With his nervous, jerky gestures, and the trepidation in his speech, he was like a caged lark. He was always with Yakob Somov, taciturn and serious beyond his years. Samoylov, who had grown still redder in prison, Vasily Gusev, curly-haired Dragunov, and a number of others argued that it was necessary to come out armed, but Pavel and the Little Russian, Somov, and others said it was not.
And with the habit which he and his brothers had always had of crying at their mother, who did not understand anything, he stopped, and, shuddering as with cold, spoke angrily: "There! You see! I knew it! You understand nothing, mother! Nothing!" "Well well all right! Do you feel cold?" "Cold!" Vasily answered bluntly, and again began to pace the room, looking at his mother askance, as if annoyed.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking