Chapter 20 20. Farmer

Nikolai Chikildeyev, a waiter at the Moscow hotel "Slav Emporium", fell ill.His lower limbs were numb and he had trouble walking, so that one day he stumbled in the aisle and fell with the tray of ham and roasted peas.He had to resign from his post.He went to seek medical treatment, and spent all his and his wife's savings. It was already difficult to make ends meet, and it was boring to have nothing to do, so he decided that it would be better to go back to his hometown in the country.Not only is it more convenient to recuperate at home, but the cost of living will also be much less.No wonder the saying goes: "It's good to be at home for a thousand days, but it's hard to go out for a while".

They returned to their hometown Zhukovo village in the evening.In his childhood memory, his home was always so bright, comfortable and convenient, but now, when he stepped into the house, he was shocked: the wooden house was dark, crowded and dirty.His wife Olga and daughter Sasha, who came back with him, stared in amazement at the stove: it was so large that it took up almost half the room and was black with soot and flies.How many flies!The stove was askew, the logs on the walls were tilted, and it looked like the cabin would collapse at any moment.In the front corner, where the icon stood, there were bottle labels and newspaper clippings plastered next to them—these would be pictures.Poor, poor!The adults are not at home and have gone to harvest the crops.Sitting on the stove was a six or eight-year-old girl with fair hair, unwashed, and a cold expression.She didn't even glance at whoever came in.A white cat was rubbing its back on the fork under the stove.

"Mimi, Mimi" Sasha called it, "Mimi!" "Our cat can't hear," said the little girl. "It's deaf." "how could be?" "Just deaf. Beaten." Nikolay and Olga knew at a glance what life was like here, but neither of them told the other.They put down the package silently, and walked into the street in silence.Their house was the third in the village, and it seemed to be the poorest and most dilapidated.The second house was not much better, but the one at the end had a tin roof and curtains on the windows.This lonely house has no walls, it is a small restaurant.All the farmhouses are lined up in a row, and the whole small village is peaceful and quiet. The willows, elderberries and pepper trees in the yards of each house stick out of the wall, and the scenery is really beautiful.

Behind the farmhouse, a steep dirt slope led down to the river, and here and there there were large rocks peeking out of the clay.Between these stones and the pits the potters had dug, there were winding paths where heaps of pottery fragments, brown and red, remained.Below the hillside is a vast and flat green pasture.The meadows have been mowed, and only the farm animals are wandering now.The river was a mile or so away from the village, and its waters meandered among beautiful, tree-lined banks.On the other side of the river is another large pasture with livestock and white geese in rows.Past the meadow, like this side of the river, a steep slope climbs up the hill.On top of the hill was a village and a five-domed church, and a little further on were landowners' estates.

"What a place you have!" said Olga, crossing herself against the church. "How wide it is, Lord!" At this moment the church bells sounded, calling the people to all-night prayers (it was the eve of Sunday).Two little girls down the slope were carrying a bucket of water. They turned their heads to look at the church and listened to the bell. "At this moment, the 'Slavic Market' is just open for dinner..." Nicholas said in a daze. Nicholas and Olga sat on the edge of the steep slope, watching how the sun went down, and how the golden and purple glow of the evening was reflected in the river, in the windows of the church, and in the air in the fields.The air was soft, quiet, and indescribably pure, as never before in Moscow.As the sun went down, flocks of cattle and sheep came back to the village screaming and clattering, and geese flew across the river from the opposite bank.Then the surroundings fell silent, the soft light disappeared, and the dim twilight soon descended.

At this time, Nicholas' father and mother came home. The two old people were about the same height, thin, hunchbacked, and lost their teeth.The two women, daughters-in-law Maria and Fiocla, who worked daytime at the landowner's house on the other side of the river, also came home at this time.Maria is the wife of her older brother Kyriak and has six children.Fiokla is the wife of her younger brother, Janice, who is now serving in the army outside.Nikolay went into the cabin and saw a large family, all these bodies, big and small, wriggling on the high planks, in the cradles, in all the corners, and saw how the old men and women put the black bread Soaked in the water, gobbled it up, and then he thought, it was wrong for him, a sick person, without money, and dragging his family behind, to come back to his hometown, wrong!

"Where's brother Kyriak?" he asked after greetings. "He's a watchman in a merchant's house," answered the father, "keeping the woods. He's a good farmer, but he drinks a lot." "People who don't earn money!" complained the old woman. "Our men are miserable. They never bring home anything, but take it out of the house. Kiryak is drunk, and the old man knows it without hiding it." Way to the tavern. Made the Madonna angry." The samovar was lit because of the arrival of the guests.There was a fishy smell in the tea.The gray candies are the leftovers from chewing; there are many cockroaches crawling around on the bread and dishes.This kind of tea is hard to drink, and the conversation is also unpleasant-talking and talking, it is either poor or sick.But they hadn't finished their cup of tea when suddenly loud, drawn-out, drunken shouts came from the yard.

"Ma... Maria... Ya!" "It seems that Kiriak is back," said the old man, "and it will come to anyone who is mentioned." Everyone fell silent.After a while, the shout sounded again. It was rough and dragged on for a long time, as if it came from the ground: "Ma... Maria... Ya!" The eldest daughter-in-law, Maria, leaned against the stove with a pale face.The frightened look on this broad-shouldered, stocky, ugly woman was a little strange to watch.Her daughter, the little girl sitting on the hearth, who had always looked indifferent, burst into tears.

"Why are you crying, you bastard?" Fiokla yelled at her. She was a beautiful woman with a strong body and broad shoulders. "Don't be afraid, he won't kill you!" Nikolay learned from the old man's mouth that Maria was afraid to live with Kiriak in the woods, because whenever he came back drunk, he would make trouble with her and beat her mercilessly. "M...Maria!" the voice came to the door. "For Christ's sake, help me, dear ones," Maria said with difficulty, panting as if she had been thrown into icy water, "help me, dear ones..."

All the children in the room began to cry, and Sasha watched them cry too.There was a drunken cough, and then a tall, black-bearded farmer entered the room.He wore a winter hat so his face couldn't be seen in the dim light--but it looked scary.He is Kyriak.He walked up to his wife, swung his arm, and punched her in the face with his fist.She didn't make a sound, was beaten unconscious, and collapsed on the ground, bleeding from her nose immediately. "Disgraceful, shameful," muttered the old man, and climbed onto the stove, "in front of guests! What a crime!" The old woman sat silently, hunched over, thinking.Fiocla was rocking the cradle... Evidently Kiriak felt very proud of his ability to frighten people, and he grabbed Maria by the hand, dragged her to the door, and roared like a wild animal in order to appear more fierce.But at this moment, he suddenly saw that there were guests present, so he stopped.

"Ah, I'm back..." he said, letting go of his wife, "Brothers and their families..." He prayed to the icon for a while, swayed his body, opened his red drunk eyes, and then said, "My brother has returned to his hometown with his family... so he came from Moscow. Needless to say, Moscow is The city that was designated as the capital of the country in ancient times is the mother of all cities... I'm sorry..." He sat down on the bench by the samovar and drank his tea.Everyone was silent, only he drank loudly from a small teacup.He drank ten glasses in a row, then collapsed on the bench, and immediately began to snore. Everybody get ready for bed.Nicholas was lying on the hearth with his father because of his illness.Sasha slept on the floor, and Olga and her two sisters-in-law went to sleep in the shed. "Oh, come on, dear," she said, lying down on the hay next to Maria, "tears won't take away the pain! Just bear it. The holy book says, 'If someone slaps you on the right cheek, even the left cheek Turn the face around and let him hit you. 'Oh, forget it, my dear!" Afterwards she talked about Moscow in a low voice, about her own life, how she worked as a maid in a furnished apartment. "The houses in Moscow are big, built of stone," she said. "There are many churches, there are forty parish churches, my dear. The owners of the houses are all gentlemen, decent and polite." Maria said that she had never been to the county seat, not to mention Moscow.She couldn't read, couldn't pray, and didn't even know "Our Father who is in heaven."She and Ofikra, who was sitting there listening, were both mentally retarded and didn't understand anything.Neither of them liked their husbands.Maria was afraid of Kiriak, and whenever he stayed with her she trembled with fright.As long as she got close to him, the strong smell of alcohol and cigarettes on his body would always give her a headache.As for Fiokla, whenever someone asks her, is it annoying that her husband is not there, she always replies angrily: "Fuck him!" They chatted for a while, then fell silent... It's getting colder.A rooster crowed loudly near the shed, making it impossible to sleep.When the light blue morning light passed through every crack, Fiokla got up quietly and went out, and then she could hear the clatter of her bare feet, and she went somewhere. When Olga went to church, she took Maria with her.They walked down the path towards the meadow.Both are in a good mood.Olga likes the vast countryside, and Maria finds this sister-in-law kind and amiable.The sun is up.A drowsy eagle hovered low over the pasture, the river was dark, and in some places there was morning mist.A strip of light stretched across the hill on the other side of the river, illuminating the church in golden light.In the garden of the landlord's house, a group of rooks croaked loudly. "It's nothing to the old man," Maria said. "The old lady is very strong, and she always quarrels with people. She only grows enough food for Maslenitsa, so she has to buy flour in a small shop, so she gets angry and keeps saying: You Eat too much." "Oh, forget it, my dear, just bear it. It is written in the holy book: 'All who labor and are heavy laden, come to me.'" Olga spoke steadily and melodiously, and walked like a pilgrim woman, quick and hasty.She must read the "Gospel" every day, reciting it aloud like a church chant. Although she does not understand many places, the sacred language always moves her to tears. Whenever she reads "if" and "until" As she spoke, her heart seemed to stop beating.She believed in God, she believed in Our Lady, and she believed in all who serve God.She believed that no one could be bullied; no ordinary person, no German, no Gypsy, no Jew, no one in the world could be bullied.She believes that sooner or later, anyone who shows no mercy to animals will suffer.She believed it was written in the Holy Book.So whenever she read the Bible, even if she couldn't read it, her face always showed pity, emotion and joy. "Where are you from?" Maria asked. "I'm from Vladimir. It's just that I went to Moscow very early, when I was eight years old." They came to the river.On the other side of the river a woman was standing by the water, undressing. "That's our Fiocla," Maria recognized. "She's crossing the river to the landowner's estate. Find the butler there. She's a rogue and quarrelsome—what a hell!" Black-browed Fiokla, with loose hair, was young and strong like a girl.She jumped from the bank into the river, her legs slapping hard, and a wave of waves was thrown around her. "She's messing around--what a mess!" repeated Maria. A rickety log bridge spanned the river.Under the bridge, in the clear and transparent river water, groups of big-headed crocodile swim to and fro.The green bushes were reflected in the water, and the dewdrops on the leaves glistened.It's warm and cozy all around, which makes people feel full of love.What a beautiful morning!If there were no poverty, no terrible, endless poverty, nowhere to escape, perhaps life on earth would be as beautiful as this morning!But one only needs to look back at the village to remember clearly what happened yesterday, and the intoxicating sense of happiness aroused by the surrounding scenery immediately disappears. They come to church.Maria stood at the gate, not daring to go any further.Again she dared not sit down, even though the bell would not strike for Mass until after eight o'clock.She just stood like this. While reading the Gospel, the crowd suddenly moved to make way for the landlord's family.Two girls in white dresses and wide-brimmed hats came in, followed by a fat red boy in a sailor suit.Olga was greatly moved by their presence, and she saw at a glance that they were educated and noble people of the upper class.Maria frowned, looked at them sullenly, and looked at them in frustration, as if it was not a human being who came in, but a demon, and if she didn't get out of the way, they would be trampled to death. Whenever the deacon's bass voice read the scriptures, Maria always seemed to hear the scolding of "Ma... Maria...", so she couldn't help but tremble. People in the village heard that there were guests, and many people came to their house after the prayer.The Leonyitchevs, the Matveitchevs, and the Ilyichos came to inquire about their relatives in Moscow.All the young people in the village of Zhukovo, who could read and write, were sent to Moscow, and only as apprentices in restaurants and inns (just as the young people in the village on the other side of the river were only sent to bakeries. ).This trend has a long history, and it was like this in the era of serfdom.At that time there was a peasant Luka Ivanitch from Zhukovo, now a legend, who worked as a shopkeeper in a club in Moscow, accepting only fellow villagers, who had established themselves, He also called his relatives and arranged for them to work in restaurants and hotels.Since then, the surrounding villagers have changed the name of the village of Zhukovo, calling it "the village of servants" or "the village of slaves".Nikolay was sent to Moscow at the age of eleven, and Ivan Makaritch of the Matvejcie family found him a job.Ivan Makaritch was working as an usher in the theater in the garden of the Hermitage.Now Nikolai said to the Matveitchevs in a clear way: "Ivan Macrech is my benefactor, and I have to pray to God day and night for him, because thanks to him, I just became a decent person." "My God," said a tall old woman, Ivan Makaritch's sister, through tears, "there is no news of him, my relatives." "Last winter he worked at Master Aumont's house, and this season I heard that he went to work in the garden outside the city... He's old! In the past, he could bring home ten rubles a day for a summer, but now he's everywhere The business is slow, and this is a hard time for the old man." The old women and women looked at his felt-shoeed feet, at his pale face, and said sadly: "You are no longer a earner, Nikolai Ossipech, you are no longer a earner! Where are you! " Everyone loves Sasha.She was already ten years old, but she was very thin, and she looked no more than seven years old.The other little girls had tanned faces, their hair was cut short randomly, and they wore faded long gowns.She, with her pale face, big black eyes, and red ribbons in her hair, looked a little funny among them, as if she were a little beast just caught from the wild. "She can read!" Olga praised, looking tenderly at her daughter. "Read aloud, my dear child!" she said, taking a copy of the Gospel from her parcel. "Read aloud, and read it to the Orthodox." The Gospel is old and heavy, with a sheepskin cover and dirty edges.The books smelled like that, as if a monk had come into the house.Sasha raised her eyebrows and began to chant loudly, like a hymn: "'An angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream, and said, Arise, and take the child and his mother...'" "With the child and his mother," repeated Olga, flushed with excitement. "'Flee to Egypt and live there until I tell you...'" Hearing the word "wait", Olga couldn't bear it anymore and burst into tears.Maria looked at her and sobbed too, and then Ivan Makaritch's sister wept.The old man couldn't stop coughing, looking around to find a small gift for his granddaughter, but he couldn't find anything, so he just waved his hand.After reading the scriptures, the neighbors scattered back home, deeply moved and very satisfied with Olga and Sasha. Because it is a holiday, the whole family stays at home all day.The old woman, whom husbands, daughters-in-law, grandsons and granddaughters called her grandmother, had to do everything by herself, light the stove, light the samovar, and even milk the cows at noon, and then she kept complaining that she had done nothing. Gotta be exhausted.She is always worried that the family eats too much, and that the old man and his daughters-in-law are idle and not working.From time to time, she heard that a flock of geese from the shop owner's house seemed to be sneaking into her vegetable garden from behind, so she took a long pole and ran out of the house to guard the shriveled and shriveled cabbage like hers, He yelled for half an hour without stopping.Sometimes it seemed to her that the crow was trying to get her chick, and she swore at the crow.She was angry from morning to night, chattering, and yelling and cursing at the top of her voice at every turn, which made passers-by on the street stop. She was very nasty to her old man, calling him lazy or a nuisance.He was an unreliable and unreliable farmer, and if she hadn't been constantly pushing him away, I'm afraid he really wouldn't be doing any work, just sitting on the stove and gossiping all day long.He talked endlessly to his son about his many enemies, complained that he was bullied by his neighbors every day, and it was boring to listen to him. "Yes," he began, with his hands on his hips, "yes... a week after the Feast of the Cross I sold the hay, thirty kopecks a load, voluntarily... yes... very good... But one morning I pushed out the hay, I sold it voluntarily, and I didn't offend anyone, but by bad luck, I saw that the mayor, Antip Sedelnikov, just came out of the tavern.' Where to send it? Useless things!' He said and gave me a slap in the face." Kiryar, who was drunk and had a splitting headache, was ashamed in front of his brother. "Vodka sucks. Oh, my God!" he muttered, shaking his sore head, "For Christ's sake, brothers and sisters, forgive me, I'm not happy myself ah." Because it was a holiday, they bought a herring from the tavern and made a pot of fish head soup.At noon, everyone drank tea first, and drank it for a long time until their heads were sweating. It seemed that the tea had stretched their stomachs.After that, we started to drink fish soup, and everyone drank it from an earthen pot.As for the body of the fish, the grandmother hid it. In the evening, a potter was firing a kiln on the slope.On the meadow downhill, the girls sang and danced in a circle.Someone is playing the accordion.On the other side of the river, there were also people firing kilns and girls singing, and the singing in the distance was melodious and beautiful.Many peasants inside and outside the tavern were making noise. They sang different tunes drunkenly and cursed loudly, which made Olga tremble and groan, "Oh, my God..." What surprised her was that the swearing words could go on and on, and it was the old men who were about to swear the loudest and loudest.But the children and the girls paid no heed to it, for they had evidently been used to it in their cradles. After midnight, the kiln fires on both sides of the bank had been extinguished, but people were still having fun in the meadows and taverns below.Both the Don and Kiriak were drunk.Arm in arm, shoulders bumping shoulders, they stumbled to the barn where Olga and Maria slept. "Forget it," the old man advised him, "forget it... This woman is quite honest... It's a crime..." "Ma... Maria... ya!" Kyriak shouted. "Forget it... It's a sin... This woman is not bad." The two stood in front of the shed for a while, then walked away. "I...I love...wildflowers!" the old man suddenly sang in a piercing tenor voice, "I...I love...to go to the wild...to pick flowers!" Then he spat, cursed, and went into the house. The old woman asked Sasha to stay in the vegetable garden and guard the cabbages so that the geese would not come in and cause harm.It was a hot August day.The tavernkeeper's geese used to sneak into the vegetable garden from behind, but now they are doing business: pecking at the oats near the tavern, chatting peacefully, only one gander raised his head high, as if wanting to observe, old woman Did you come running with a pole?Other geese might have come up the slope, but the flock was now feeding on the other side of the river, drawing a long white line across the green pasture.Sasha stood there for a while, feeling quite bored, and ran to the edge of the steep slope after seeing that the geese were not coming. There she saw Maria's eldest daughter, Motka, standing motionless on a boulder looking at the church.Maria gave birth to thirteen children, but only six children remained, and they were all daughters and no boys.The eldest daughter is only eight years old.Motka, barefoot and wearing a long shirt, was standing in the sun, and the hot sun was baking the top of her head, but she ignored it, as if she had become a fossil.Sasha stood beside her, looked at the church and said, "God lives in the church. People light lamps and candles at night, and God, light the ever-burning lights. The ever-burning lights are red, green, and blue, like little eyes." At night God walks up and down the church, accompanied by the Madonna and God's servant Nicholas - heh, doo, doo... the night watchmen are terrified, terrified! Oh, forget it My love," she said imitating her mother, "on the day of the end of the world, all the churches will fly into the sky." "The clock...tower...also...flies?" Motka asked in a low voice, slurring each word. "The clock tower flies too. On the day of the end of the world, the good will go to heaven, and the wicked will be thrown into the everlasting fire, dear ones. God will say to my mother and Maria, you didn't Bullying. So go to the right and go to heaven. But to Kiriak and the old woman he will say: You go to the left and go into the fire. Whoever eats meat on fasting day will go into the fire too. " She looked up at the sky, opened her eyes wide, and said, "Look at the sky, don't blink, and you can see angels." Motka also looked up at the sky, and a minute passed in silence. "See?" Sasha asked. "I can't see it," said Motka in a low voice. "I can see it. A group of little angels are flying in the sky, flapping their little wings—twinkling, like little mosquitoes." Motka thought for a while, looked at the ground, and asked, "Is the old woman going to be burned too?" "Yes, dear." From the big rock they were standing on to the foot of the mountain, there was a flat and gentle slope covered with green grass, which made people want to reach out and touch it, or lie down on it.Sasha lay down and rolled over.Motka, with a serious face, panted, lay down too, rolled over, so that her blouse was rolled up to her shoulders. "What fun!" Sasha said cheerfully. They went up, trying to play again, but then there was a familiar scream.Ouch, it's terrible!Toothless, skinny, hunchbacked, with short white hair blowing in the wind, the old grandmother was driving a flock of geese out of the vegetable garden with a long pole, shouting loudly: "All the cabbages are given to you!" Smash it up, these damn beasts, you should be slaughtered, why don't you die, you who have suffered thousands of knives!" Seeing the two little girls, she dropped the pole, picked up a dead twig, grabbed Sasha's neck with her bony, hooked fingers, and began to beat her.Sasha was in pain and frightened, and immediately burst into tears. At this moment, the gander stretched its neck, swayed to the old woman, and roared for a while. Welcome it: quack quack quack!Then the grandmother beat Motka with a tree prick, and Motka's shirt was lifted again.Sasha was heartbroken, and ran back to the house crying, trying to express her grievances.Motka followed her, also weeping loudly, but in a low voice and without wiping away the tears, which were streaming down her face as if she had just soaked her face in water. "My God!" Olga exclaimed, seeing the two of them running into the house, "Holy Mother!" Sasha started to tell what was going on, and at the same time the old woman came in, screaming and cursing, and Fiocla got annoyed, and there was a commotion in the house. "It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter!" Olga was pale and flustered, stroking Sasha's head while comforting her, "She is your grandma, and it is a sin to be angry with grandma. It doesn't matter, good boy." Nicholas had long been exhausted by the constant shouting, hunger, soot and stench, he hated and despised this poor life, and was often ashamed of his parents in front of his wife and daughters—this At that moment, he dropped his legs from the stove, and said to his mother in a weeping voice, angrily: "You can't beat her! You have no right to beat her!" "Come on. You lie on the hearth and die, you sick man!" Fiocla yelled at him viciously. "Damn it, who told you to come back to eat?" Sasha, Motka and all the little girls in the house climbed onto the hearth, hid in a corner behind Nikolay, and listened to these words in silence and trembling, as if they could hear their little ones. heart is beating.Whenever someone in a family dies from a long illness, with no hope of life, there are often moments of great distress when all those around him timidly, secretly, and inwardly wish him dead.Only children are afraid of the death of their loved ones and shudder at the thought of it.At this moment, the little girls held their breath, looked at Nicholas with sad expressions on their faces, and thought that he would soon die, and they couldn't help crying, and wanted to say something kind and pity to him. . Nicholas leaned straight towards Olga, as if seeking her protection, and said softly to her in a trembling voice: "Olga, dear, I can't stay here any longer. I'm exhausted. For God's sake, for Christ's sake, write to your sister Kravdia Abramovna, tell her to sell everything she owns, pawn, let her Send the money so we can get out of here. Oh, God," he went on distressedly, "if only I could see Moscow once more! If only I could dream of Moscow, dear!" As dusk came, it became darker and darker in the wooden house, and everyone was too worried to speak.The angry grandmother broke the crust of the rye bread, soaked it in a bowl, chewed it slowly, and ate it for a full hour.When Maria finished milking the cows, she came in with the milk pail and put it on the stool.The old grandma poured the milk in the bucket into the earthen pots one by one, and worked for a long time in a calm manner.Evidently she was pleased, because it was the fast of the Assumption, and no one wanted to drink milk, so the milk was kept.She just poured a little into a small saucer and left it for Fiocla's little doll.Later she and Maria sent the crocks down to the cellar.Suddenly Motka jumped up, got down from the stove, went to the stool, took the saucer, and poured a little milk into the wooden bowl in which the bread crust was soaking. The old grandma went back to the house and picked up her own bowl to eat again.Sasha and Motka sat on the stove and looked at the old woman, feeling very happy: now she is off the hook, and then she can only go to hell.They were comforted and lay down to sleep.Sasha was about to fall asleep, but she was still imagining the Last Judgment: a huge furnace like a pottery kiln blazing, a black devil with horns like a cow, holding a long pole to kill the old woman. To drive into the fire, just as she herself had driven the goose. At around ten o'clock in the evening on the Assumption Day, the girls and boys who were having fun on the meadow under the slope suddenly let out piercing screams and ran towards the village one after another.Those who sat on the edge of the steep slope could not understand for a while what had happened. "It's on fire! It's on fire!" came a hoarse cry from below, "The village is on fire!" Those who sat on the edge of the steep slope looked back, and there was a terrible and unusual sight before them.On the hay roof of a wooden house at the head of the village, a pillar of fire shot up to one foot high, and the tongue of the fire was tumbling, and countless sparks were scattered in all directions, like a fountain spouting water.Immediately the entire roof burst into flames, and the crackling of the fire could be heard. The moonlight dimmed, and the whole village was shrouded in a trembling red light. Black shadows moved on the ground, and there was a smell of smoke in the air.The people who ran up from the slope were out of breath, trembling and speechless.They pushed each other, stumbled, and because they were not used to the blinding firelight, they couldn't see anything clearly, and they didn't even recognize each other.It was terrible.What was particularly frightening was that a few pigeons were flying around in the thick smoke above the flames, while in the tavern those who did not know that the village was on fire were still singing and playing the accordion as if nothing had happened. "Uncle Semyon's house is on fire!" someone shouted roughly. Maria was running around anxiously in front of her house.She was crying, rubbing her hands, her teeth chattering with fright, even though the fire was still far away, on the other side of the village.Nikolay came out of the house in felt boots, and the children ran out in their tights.Near the village policeman's cabin someone knocked on iron plates.The sound of Dangdang resounded through the night sky.The rapid and endless sound of iron plates made people feel a dull pain in their hearts and chills all over their bodies.Some old grandmas were standing holding holy images.All the sheep, calves, and cows were thrown from the yards into the street, and many boxes, sheepskins, and barrels were brought out.A black-haired stallion, which is usually not allowed into the herd because it often kicks and hurts other horses, was also released now.It neighed and beat its hooves. It ran back and forth in the village twice, and suddenly stopped beside a big car, and kicked the car hard with its hind legs. Bells were also ringing in the church on the other side of the river. The hot people near the burning wooden house are so bright that every grass on the ground can be clearly seen.Some boxes were finally dragged out.Semyon was sitting on one of the boxes. He was a red-bearded peasant with a big nose, a cap pulled down to his ears, and a suit jacket.His wife was lying face down on the ground, unconscious, moaning.There was an old man about eighty years old, short in stature, with a big beard, like a goblin.He was not a local, but he was obviously involved in the fire, walking around without a hat, holding a white bundle in his hand.His bald head shone with fire.Antip Sedelnikov, the mayor of the village, with a tanned face and black hair like a gypsy, went up to the hut with an ax and, for some reason, he cut down all the windows one after another, and then he cut down the steps Come. "Women, get water!" he cried. "Bring up the machine! Be quick, girls!" The peasants who were drinking and having fun in the tavern just now brought the fire engine.They were all drunk, stumbling and stumbling from time to time, with tears in their eyes and a helpless expression. "Girls, get some water!" the village head yelled, he was also drunk, "Be quick, girls!" The women and girls ran to the spring below, filled the buckets and buckets with water and sent them up the mountain, poured them into the fire engines, and ran down again.Olga, Maria, Sasha and Modka went to fetch water.Some women and boys pressed the pump to draw water, and the fire hose would squeak. The village chief held it to the door for a while, and the window for a while, and sometimes blocked the water flow with his finger, which made the squeaking even more harsh . "Well done, Antip!" Some people praised, "Come on!" Antipe rushed into the burning porch and shouted from inside: "Press the water! Orthodox Christians, join forces for this disaster!" Many farmers stood aside, doing nothing, staring at the fire in a daze.No one knew what to do and couldn't do it, and all around were stacks of grain, hay, sheds, and woodpile.基里亚克和老头奥西普也站在里面，两人都带着醉意。像是为自己的袖手旁观开脱，老头对躺在地上的女人说：“大嫂子，你何苦拿脑袋撞地呢？你这房子是上过保险的，你愁什么！” 谢苗时而对这个人，时而对那个人讲起着火的原因：“就是那个拿包袱的小老头子，茹科夫将军家的仆人……他从前在将军家当厨子，愿将军的灵魂升天堂。晚上来我家说：'留我在这儿住一夜……'好吧，不用说，我们两人就喝了那么一小杯……老婆子忙着生茶炊，想请老头子喝点茶，可是合该倒霉，她把茶炊放到门廊里，烟囱里的火星一直蹿到屋顶，点着了干草，这下就出事了。我们差点没给烧死。老头子的帽子烧掉了，作孽呀。” 铁板的当当声响个不停，河对岸的教堂里钟声齐呜。奥莉加周身映在火光里，气喘吁吁地时而跑下，时而跑上，惊恐地看着那些火红色的绵羊和在烟雾里飞来飞去的粉红色的鸽子。她觉得这钟声像尖刺扎进她的心脏，又觉得这场火永远扑不灭，而萨莎找不见了……后来轰隆一声木屋的天花板塌下来，她心想这下全村准会烧光，这时她浑身瘫软，再也提不起水桶，就坐在坡上，水桶扔在一旁。在她身旁和身后都有女人在呼天喊地地放声大哭，像哭丧一样。 这时候，从河对岸的地主庄园里驶来两辆马拉大车，车上坐着地主的管家和雇工，他们运来了一台救人机。有个身穿白色海军眼、敞着怀的年轻大学生骑着马也赶来了。响起了斧子的砍击声，一把梯子架到已经着火的木屋框架上，立即有五个人往上爬，打头的就是那个大学生。他周身被火光照红，用刺耳的、嘶哑的声音喊叫着，那口气，就好像他是救火的行家似的。他们把木屋拆掉，把原木一根根卸下来，把畜栏、篱笆和近处的干草垛都拖开了。 “不准他们拆屋子，”人群里传来严厉的喊声，“不准！” 基里亚克一副果断的神态走向木屋，似乎要阻止来人拆房子。可是一名雇工把他赶回来，还狠狠地揍了他一拳。大家一阵哄笑，雇工又给了一拳，基里亚克倒下了，手脚并用爬回到人群里。 河对岸又来了两个戴帽子的漂亮姑娘，多半是大学生的姐妹。她们站在远处观望。拆下拖走的原木不再燃烧，但是冒着浓烟。现在大学生拿着水笼头，时而对着原木冲，时而对农民和提水的女人冲。 “乔治！”两个姑娘责备地、不安地向他喊道，“乔治！” The fire went out.大家四散回家，这时才发现天快亮了，人人脸色苍白，还带点淡褐色——每当清早天空中的残星消失的时候，总是这样的。回家路上，农民们嘻嘻哈哈，不断地拿茹科夫将军的厨子开玩笑，取笑他把帽子烧掉了。他们已经有兴致把火灾变成笑谈，甚至好像有点惋惜火很快就被扑灭了。 “您，少爷，救人挺内行，”奥莉加对大学生说，“真该把您调到我们莫斯科，那儿差不多天天有火灾。” “您难道从莫斯科来的？”一位小姐问道。 “是这样。我丈夫在'斯拉夫商场'当差。这是我的女儿，”她指着冷得发抖、紧贴着她的萨莎说，“她也算是莫斯科人哩，小姐。” 两位小姐对大学生讲了几句法语，他就给了萨莎一个二十戈比的硬币。老头子奥西普见到了，他的脸上顿时闪现出希望的光芒。 “感谢上帝，老爷，多亏没风，”他对大学生说，“要不然只消一个钟头就会烧个精光。老爷，您心好，”他压低嗓音，不好意思地加了一句：“大清早好冷？真想暖暖身子……您行行好，赏几个小钱打点酒喝。” 他什么也没有得着，于是大声清了清嗓子，慢腾腾地回家了。奥莉加一直站在坡边，望着两辆车子怎样涉水过河，少爷和小姐怎样穿过草地，河对岸有一辆马车正等着他们，她一回到木屋，就惊喜地对丈夫说：“多好的人哪！长得也漂亮！两位小姐简直就是天使！” “她们不得好死！”睡得迷迷糊糊的菲奥克拉恶狠狠地说。 玛丽亚认定自己命苦，常说不如死了算了。菲奥克拉正相反，贫穷也好，龌龊也好，不停的叫骂也好，这生活样样合她的口味。给她什么，她就吃什么，从不挑挑拣拣；不管什么地方，不管有没有铺的盖的，她倒头就睡。她把脏水倒在台阶上，泼到门外头，再光着脚从水洼里走过去。她从第一天起就痛恨奥莉加和尼古拉，只因为他们不喜欢这种生活。 “我倒要瞧瞧你们在这里吃什么，莫斯科的贵族！”她常常幸灾乐祸地说，“我倒要瞧一瞧！” 有一天早晨，那已是九月初了，菲奥克拉挑了一担水从坡下回来，冻得脸蛋红红的，又健康又漂亮。这时候玛丽亚和奥莉加正坐在桌子旁喝茶。 “又是茶又是糖，”菲奥克拉挖苦地说，“好气派的太太们，”她放下水桶，又说，“倒时兴天天喝茶哩，小心点，别让茶把你们呛死了！”她痛恨地瞧着奥莉加，接下去说，“在莫斯科养得肥头胖脸的，瞧这一身肥膘！” 她抡起扁担，一头打在奥莉加的肩膀上，两个妯娌吃惊得击掌叹道：“哎呀，我的天哪！” 随后菲奥克拉又去河边洗衣服，一路上破口大骂，响得连屋子里都听得见。 白天过去了，随后是秋天漫长的夜晚。木屋里在绕丝。大家动手，除了奥菲克拉：她又跑到河对岸去了。这丝是从附近的工厂里弄来的，全家人靠它挣几个钱——一星期二十来戈比。 “当年在东家手下，日子要好过些，”老头子一面绕丝，一面说，“干活，吃饭，睡觉，都按部就班的。中午饭有菜汤和粥，晚饭还是菜汤和粥。黄瓜和白菜多的是，由你敞开吃。可是规矩也大些。人人都守本分。” 屋里只点一盏小灯，光线暗淡，灯芯冒烟。要是有人挡住了小灯，就有很大一片黑影落在窗上，这时可以看到明亮的月光。老头子奥西普不慌不忙地谈起农奴解放前人们怎样生活。他说到，在这一带地方，现如今日子过得太烦闷，太穷苦，想当年老爷们常常带着猎犬、灵和职业猎手外出打猎，围猎的时候，农民都能喝到伏特加。之后整车整车被打死的野禽就送到莫斯科的少东家那里。他还说到，作恶的农奴受到惩罚，挨树条抽打，还要发配到特维尔的世袭领地上当农奴；好心的农奴受到奖赏。老奶奶也讲些往事。她什么都记得。她谈起自己的女主人，说她心地善良，严守教规，可是丈夫是个酒徒和浪荡子。说她有三个女儿，天知道都嫁了些什么人：一个嫁给酒鬼，另一个嫁给小市民，第三个私奔了（老奶奶当时很年轻，还帮过小姐的忙）。她们三个很快都愁苦死了，跟她们的母亲一样，想起这些，老奶奶甚至抽泣了几声。 突然有人敲门，大家都吓了一跳。 “奥西普大叔，留我住一夜吧！” 进来一个秃顶的小老头子，就是那个烧掉帽子的茹科夫将军的厨子。他坐下来，听着，随后也开始回忆往事，讲起各种各样的故事来。尼古拉坐在炉台上，垂着两条腿，听着，老是间他当年老爷们吃些什么菜。他们谈起了炸肉饼、肉排、各种汤和佐料。厨子的记性也很好，他还举出一些现在没有的菜，比如说有一道用牛眼睛做的菜，取名叫“早晨醒”。 “那时候你们烧'元帅肉排'吗？”尼古拉问。 “不烧。” 尼古拉摇摇头，责备说：“哎呀，你们这些没本事的厨子！” 炉台上的小姑娘们有的坐着，有的躺着，不眨眼地往下瞧着，她们人很多，看上去真像云端里的一群小天使。她们喜欢听大人讲话，她们时而高兴，时而害怕，不住地叹气，发抖，脸色变白。她们觉得老奶奶的故事讲得最有趣，她们便屏住呼吸听着，不敢动一下。 后来大家默默地躺下睡觉。老年人被那些陈年往事弄得心神不定，兴奋起来，想起年轻的时候多么美好。青春，不管它什么样，在人的记忆中总是留下生动、愉快、动人的印象。至于死亡，它已经不远了，却是那么可怕而无情——最好不去想它！油灯熄灭了。黑暗也好，月光照亮的两扇小窗也好，寂静也好，摇篮的吱嘎声也好，不知什么缘故这一切使老人们想起他们的生活已经过去，青春再也回不来了……他们刚要朦胧入睡，忽地有人碰碰你的肩膀，一口气吹到脸上，立即就睡意全消了，觉得身子发麻，种种死的念头直往脑子里钻。翻一个身再睡——死的事倒忘了，可是满脑子都是贫穷、饲料、面粉涨价等等早就让人发愁、烦心的事。过了一会儿，不由得又会想起：生活已经过去了，再也回不来了…… “唉，主啊！”厨子叹了一口气。 有人轻轻地敲了几下小窗子。多半是菲奥克拉回来了。奥莉加打着哈欠，小声念着祷词，起身去开房门，又到门道里拉开了门闩。可是没有人进来，只是从外面启进一阵冷风，月光一下子照亮了门道。从门里望出去，可以看到寂静而荒凉的街道和天上浮游的月亮。 “是谁呢？”奥莉加大声问。 “我，”有人回答，“是我。” 大门旁贴着墙跟站着菲奥克拉，全身一丝不挂。她冻得浑身发抖、牙齿打颤，在明亮的月色里显得很白，很美，很怪。她身上的暗处和皮肤上的月辉，不知怎么十分显眼，她那乌黑的眉毛和一对年轻、结实的乳房显得特别清楚。 “河对岸的那帮家伙胡闹，剥光了我的衣服才放我回来……”她说，“我只好光着身子回家，像出娘胎时那样。快给我拿点穿的来。” “你倒是进屋呀！”奥莉加小声说，她也冷得哆嗦起来。 “千万别让老东西们看见。” 实际上，老奶奶已经操心地嘟哝起来，老头子问：“谁在那边？”奥莉加把自己的上衣和裙子拿出去，帮菲奥克拉穿上，随后两人极力不出声地关上门，轻手轻脚地走进木屋。 “是你吧，讨厌鬼？”老奶奶猜出是谁，生气地嘟哝道，“嘿，叫你这夜猫子……不得好死！” “不要紧，不要紧，”奥莉加悄悄地说，给菲奥克拉披上衣服，“不要紧的，亲人儿。” 屋里又静下来。这家人向来睡不踏实：那种纠缠不休、摆脱不掉的苦恼妨碍他们每个人安睡：者头子背痛，老奶奶满心焦虑和气恼，玛丽亚担惊受怕，孩子们疥疮发痒、肚子老饿。此刻他们在睡梦中也是不安的：他们不断地翻身，说梦话，爬起来喝水。 菲奥克拉突然哇的一声哭起来，但立即又忍住，不时抽抽搭搭，声音越来越轻，最后不响了。河对岸有时传来报时的钟声，可是敲得很怪：先是五下，后来是三下。 “唉，主啊！”厨子连连叹息。 望着窗子，很难弄清楚，这是月色呢，或者已经天亮了。玛丽亚起身后走出屋子，可以听见她在院子里挤牛奶，不时说：“站好！”后来老奶奶也出去了。屋子里还很暗，但所有的东西都已显露出来。 尼古拉一夜没睡着，从炉台上爬下来。他从一只绿色的小箱子里拿出自己的燕尾服，穿到身上，走到窗前，不住地用手掌抿平衣袖，又抻抻后襟。he laughed.后来他小心地脱下燕尾服，收进箱子里，又去躺下了。 玛丽亚回到屋里，开始生炉子。她显然还没有完全睡醒，现在一边走，一边慢慢地清醒过来。她大概梦见了什么，或者又想起了昨晚的故事，因此她在炉子跟前舒舒服服地伸了个懒腰，说：“不，还是自由好啊！” 老爷坐车来了——村里人都这样称呼区警察局局长。他什么时候来，为什么来，一周以前大家就知道了。茹科沃村只有四十户人家，可是他们欠下官府和地方自治局的税款已累计两千有余。 区警察局局长先在小酒馆里歇脚，他“赏光”喝了两杯清茶，然后步行到村长家里，房子外面一群拖欠税款的农民已在恭候。村长安季普·谢杰利尼科夫尽管很年轻——他只有三十岁出头——却很严厉，总是帮上级说话，其实他自己也很穷，也不能按时交纳税款。显然他很乐意当村长，喜欢意识到自己拥有权力，这权力就是严厉，此外他不知道还有什么能表现出这份权力。村民大会上，大家都怕他，由他说了算。有时，在街上或者酒馆附近，他会突然冲着某个醉汉大声呵叱，反绑了他的手，把他关进拘留室。有一次他甚至把老奶奶也关了一天一夜，原因是她代替奥西普来开村会，还在会上骂街。他没有在城市里住过，也从来没有念过书，但他不知从哪儿弄来了许多深奥的字眼儿，喜欢在言谈中用一用，为此他备受村民敬重，尽管别人听不懂是什么意思。 奥西普带着他的纳税簿走进村长家的小木屋。区警察局局长，一个瘦老头子，灰白的连鬓胡子蓄得很长，穿一身灰制服，正坐在上座的桌子旁写些什么。屋子里干干净净，四面墙上贴满了从杂志上撕下来的花花绿绿的画片。在圣像旁边最显眼的地方，挂着从前的保加利亚大公巴滕贝克的肖像。村长安季普·谢杰利尼科夫两手交叉抱在胸前，站在桌旁。 “大人，他欠一百十九卢布，”轮到奥西普时，他说，“复活节前他交了一个卢布，打从那天起再没交过一个小钱。” 区警察局局长抬眼望着奥西普，问道：“这是为什么，老乡？” “请您开恩，大人，”奥西普激动地说，“容我说几句，头年柳托列茨村的老爷对我说：'奥西普，把你的干草卖了吧……卖给我。'怎么不行呢？我有一百普特干草要卖出去，都是几个婆娘在草场上割的。行，我们谈妥了价钱……本来挺好，两厢情愿……” 他抱怨起村长来，不时转身瞧瞧农民们，似乎要请他们来作证似的。他满脸通红，额头冒汗，眼神变得尖利而凶狠。 “我不明白你说这些干吗？”区警察分局局长说，“我问你……我只问你为什么不交纳欠款？你们大家都不交，难道要我来替你们承担责任吗？” “我拿不出来嘛！” “这些话毫无道理，大人，”村长说，“不错，奇基利杰耶夫一家属于不富足阶层，不过请您问问其余的人，全部过错在伏特加，一帮胡作非为的人。他们一窍不通。” 区警察局局长记下什么，然后心平气和地对奥西普说，那语气就像讨杯水喝似的：“你去吧。” 区警察局局长很快就走了。他坐进一辆廉价的四轮马车，不住地咳嗽，望着他那又长又瘦的背影可以看出，此刻他已经忘了奥西普，忘了村长，忘了茹科沃村的欠款，他在想着自己的心事了。他还没有走出一俄里，安季普·谢杰利尼科夫已经夺走了奇基利杰耶夫家的茶炊，老奶奶在后面追，使足劲尖声喊叫：“不准拿走！我不准你拿走，你这个魔鬼！” 村长迈开大步，走得很快；老奶奶驼着背，愤怒若狂、气喘吁吁、跌跌撞撞地在后面追他，她的头巾掉到肩上，一头白发泛出淡淡的绿色，在风中飘扬。她突然站住，像一个真正的暴动者，双拳不住地捶胸，拖长声调，叫骂得更响，嚎啕哭诉起来：“正教徒们，信仰印上帝的人啊！老天爷哪，他们欺负人！乡亲们哪，他们压迫人！哎呀，哎呀，好人们哪，替我伸冤雪恨啊！” “老奶奶，老奶奶，”村长厉声说，“不得无理取闹！” 没有了茶炊，奇基利杰耶夫的家里变得异常沉闷。茶炊被人夺走，这是有损尊严、有失体面的事，就像这家人的名誉忽然扫地一样。要是村长拿走桌子和凳子，拿走所有的瓶瓶罐罐倒也好些，那样的话，屋子里会显得空一些。老奶奶呼天喊地，玛丽亚伤心落泪，所有的小姑娘望着她们也都哇哇哭起来。老头子感到心中有愧，垂头丧气地坐在屋角里一声不吭。尼古拉无话可说。老奶奶一向疼他，可怜他，可是这会儿忘了体恤，忽然冲着他不停地叫骂，责难，对着他的脸不住地摇拳头。她大声斥责，说全是他的过错，还在信里吹牛，说什么在“斯拉夫商场”每月领五十卢布，可实际上给家里寄的钱却很少很少，这是为什么？他干吗回家来，还带着家眷？他要是死了，哪儿弄钱来葬他？……尼古拉、奥莉加和萨莎的模样儿看上去真可怜。 老头子咳了一声，拿起帽子，找村长去了。It was dark.安季普·谢杰利尼科夫鼓着腮帮子在炉子旁焊什么东西。满屋子煤气味。他的孩子们都很瘦，没有梳洗，在地板上爬来爬去，不比奇基利杰耶夫家的强多少。她的妻子长相难看，脸上有雀斑，挺着大肚子在绕丝。这是一个不幸的赤贫的家庭。只有安季普一人看上去既年轻又漂亮。在长凳上放着一溜五把茶炊。老头子对着巴滕贝克念着祷词，说： “安季普，求你发发慈悲，把茶炊还给我！看在基督面上！” “拿三个卢布来，你就取走。” “我拿不出来嘛！” 安季普不时鼓起腮帮子，火就呼呼地响，僻啪地叫，火光映红了那些茶炊。老头子揉着帽子，想了一阵，又说：“还给我吧！” 皮肤晒黑的村长此刻全身乌黑，活像个巫师。他转身对着奥西普，说得又快又严厉：“这得由地方长官说了算。本月二十六日，你可以到行政会议上口头或者书面申诉你不满的理由。” 奥西普一点也听不懂他的意思，只好到此为止，回家去了。 十多天后，区警察局局长又来了，坐了个把钟头，后来又坐车走了。那些天，风大而寒冷，河面早已结冰，雪倒没有下，可是道路难走，令大家苦恼。有一天，一个节日的傍晚，邻居们到奥西普家闲坐，聊天。他们在黑屋子里说着话，因为节日里不该干活，所以没有点灯。新闻倒有几件，不过都叫人不痛快。比如有两三户人家的公鸡被抓去抵债，送到乡公所，在那里死掉了，因为谁也不去喂它们。又比如，有几家的绵羊给拉走了，他们把羊捆起来，装在大车上运走，每到一个村子就换一辆大车，结果一头羊闷死了。现在有一个问题需要解答：谁的过锗？该怪谁？ “该怪地方自治局！”奥西普说，“不怪它怪谁！” “没说的，该怪地方自治局。” 他们把欠款、受欺压、粮食歉收等等所有的事都怪罪于地方自治局，虽说他们中谁也不知地方自治局是怎么回事。这种情况由来己久。当初一些富裕的农民自己开了工厂、小铺和客店，当上了地方自治会议员，却始终心怀不满，后来便在自己的工厂和铺子里大骂地方自治局。 他们又谈到了者天爷不下雪：本该去运木柴了，可是眼下路面坑坑洼洼，车不能行，人不能走。过去吧，十五年、二十年以前，茹科沃村里人的谈话要有趣得多。那时候，每个老头子脸上都是这样一副神气，仿佛他心里藏着什么秘密，知道什么，盼着什么。他们谈论盖着金印的公文，土地的划分，新的土地和埋藏的财宝；他们的话里都暗示着什么；现在的茹科沃人谁都没有秘密，他们的全部生活像摆在掌心里一样，人人都看得见，他们能谈的不外乎贫穷和饲料，再就是老天爷怎么不下雪…… 他们沉默片刻。后来又想起了公鸡和绵羊的事，又开始议论是谁的过错。 “地方自治局！”奥西普沮丧地说，“不怪它怪谁！” 教区的教堂在六俄里外的科索戈罗沃村。农民们只在需要时，如给婴儿施洗礼、举行婚礼、举行葬仪时才去那里。平时做祈祷到过河的教堂就行了。到了节日，遇上好天气，姑娘们打扮一番，成群结队去做弥撒。她们穿着红的、黄的、绿的连衣裙，穿过草场，叫人看了心里就高兴。不过遇上坏天气，她们只好待在家里。持斋的日子里，他们去教区的教堂作忏悔、领圣餐。在复活节后的一周内，神父举着十字架走遍所有的农舍，向大斋日没有去教堂作忏悔的教徒每人收取十五戈比。 老头子不信上帝，因此他几乎从来不想他。他承认有神奇的事，但他认为这种事只跟女人有关。有人在他面前谈起宗教或者奇迹这类事，向他提个什么问题，他总是搔搔头皮，不乐意地回答：“谁知道这个呀！” 老奶奶信上帝，不过有点糊涂。她的脑子里所有的事都混在一起，她刚想起罪孽、死亡、灵魂得救，忽地贫穷啦，种种操心的事啦，又都插进来，她立即忘了刚才在想什么。祷告词她记不住，通常在晚上睡觉前，她站在圣像面前小声念道：“喀山圣母娘娘，斯摩棱斯克圣母娘娘，三臂圣母娘娘……” 玛丽亚和菲奥克拉经常在身上画十字，每年都持斋，可是什么也不懂。孩子们没有学过祷告，大人们也不对他们讲上帝，传授什么教规，只是禁止他们在斋期吃荤。其余的家庭几乎一样：相信的人少，懂教规的人更少。同时大家又都喜欢《圣经》，温存地、虔敬地喜欢它，可是他们没有书，没人念《圣经》，讲《圣经》。奥莉加有时念《福音书》，为此大家都敬重她，对她和萨莎都恭敬地称呼“您”。 奥莉加经常去邻村和县城参加教堂命名节活动和感恩祈祷，在县城里有两个修道院和二十六座教堂。她去朝圣的路上总是神不守舍，完全忘了家人，直到回村来，才突然惊喜地发现自己有丈夫，有女儿，于是喜气洋洋地笑着说：“上帝赐福给我了！” 村子里发生的事使她厌恶、痛苦。农民们在伊利亚节喝酒，在圣母升天节喝酒，在十字架节又喝酒。圣母庇护节是教区的节日，茹科沃村的农民为此一连喝三天酒。他们不但喝光了五十卢布的公款，过后还挨家挨户收取酒钱。头一天，奇基利杰耶夫家就宰了一头公羊，早中晚一连吃了三顿羊肉。他们吃得很多，到了夜里孩子们爬起来再吃一点。这三天里基里亚克喝得酪叮大醉，他喝光了所有的家当，把帽子和靴子也换酒喝了。他死命殴打玛丽亚，打得她晕过去，家里人只好往她头上泼水。事后大家都感到羞愧、厌恶。 不过，即使在茹科沃这样的“奴才村”，一年一度也有一次真正的宗教盛典。那是在八月份，在全县，从一个村子到一个村子，人们迎送着赋予生命的圣母像。到了茹科沃村盼望的这一天，正好无风，天色阴沉。一大清早，姑娘们就穿上鲜艳漂亮的衣裙去迎圣像，到了傍晚时人们才抬着圣像，举着十字架和神幡、唱着圣诗，进了村子，这时河对面的教堂里钟声齐鸣。一群群本村人和外村人挤满了大街，吵吵嚷嚷，尘土飞扬，挤得水泄不通……老头子也好，老奶奶也好，基里亚克也好，大家都向圣像伸出手去，渴望地瞧着它，哭着说：“保护神啊，圣母娘娘！保护神啊！” 大家好像突然明白了，天地之间并不虚空，有钱有势的人还没有夺走一切，尽管他们遭受着欺凌和奴役，遭受着难以忍受的贫穷，遭受着可怕的伏特加的祸害，却有神灵在保佑着他们。 “保护神啊，圣母娘娘！”玛丽亚嚎吻大哭，“圣母娘娘啊！” 可是感恩析祷做完，圣像又抬走了。一切都恢复原样，酒馆里又不时传出醉汉粗鲁的喊声。 只有富裕农民才怕死，他们越有钱，就越不信上帝，不信灵魂得救的话。他们只是出于对死亡的恐惧，才点起蜡烛，做做祷告，以防万一。穷苦的农民不怕死。人们当着老头子和老奶奶的面说他们活得太久，早该死了，他们听了也没什么。他们也当着尼古拉的面毫无顾忌地对菲奥克拉说，等尼古拉死了，她的丈夫丹尼斯就可以得到照顾——退役回家了。至于玛丽亚，她不但不怕死，甚至还巴不得早点死才好。她的几个孩子死了，她反倒高兴呢。 他们不怕死，可是对各种各样的病却估计得过于可怕。本来是一些小毛病，如肠胃失调啦，着了点凉啦，老奶奶立即躺到炉台上，捂得严严实实，开始大声地不停地呻吟：“我要一死一啦！”老头子赶紧去请神父，老奶奶就领圣餐，接受临终前的涂圣油仪式。他们经常谈到感冒，蛔虫和硬结，说蛔虫在肚子里闹腾，结成团能堵到心口。他们最怕感冒，所以哪怕夏天也穿得很厚，在炉台上取暖。老奶奶喜欢看病，经常坐车跑医院，在那里说她五十八岁，不说七十岁。照她想，要是医生知道她的实际年龄，就不会给她治病，只会说：她该死了，用不着治了。她通常一清早就动身去医院，再带上两三个小孙女，到了晚上才能回来，又饿又气，给自己带回了药水，给小孙女带回了药膏。有一次她把尼古拉也带去了，后来他一连喝了两周的药水，老说