Chapter 15 "Prairie" Eight

Eight The truck convoy stopped at the door of a large inn not far from the pier for merchants to stay. Yegorushka got down from the wagon when he heard a familiar voice.Someone helped him down and said, "We arrived here yesterday evening...today we have been waiting for you all day. We wanted to catch up with you yesterday, but we didn't meet you on the road, we took another road.Hey, you wrinkled your coat so much!You are going to be scolded by your uncle! " Yegorushka gazed at the speaker's marble face, and remembered that it was Deniska. "Your uncle and Father Christopher are in the inn room at this moment," went on Deniska, "and they are having tea. Go!"

He led Yegorushka into a two-story house, as dark and gloomy as the charitable institution in their county town.Yegorushka and Deniska passed through the hall, went down a dark staircase and a long narrow passage, and entered a small room.Sure enough, Ivan Ivanitch and Father Christopher were sitting at the tea table in the room drinking tea.When the two old men saw the little boy, their faces showed both surprise and joy. "Aha! Yegor Nikolai-itch," said Father Christopher in a singing voice. "Mr. Lomonosov!" "Ah, my lord!" said Kuzmitchov. "welcome."

Yegorushka took off his overcoat, kissed the hands of his uncle and Father Christopher, and sat down at the table. "Well, how was the journey, puer bone?" asked Father Christopher, pouring out tea for him, with his usual cheerful smile. "I'm afraid I'm tired of it? God bless us, don't let us drive in a cart or ride a bull! God forgive us: we walked and walked, looking forward, there was always a grassland spreading out, just like before, with no end in sight!This is not rushing, it is simply suffering.Why don't you drink tea?drink!Before you get here with the train of wagons, we've got everything satisfactorily done.Thank God!We've sold the wool to Cherebashin, and we only pray that it goes well for everyone. ...we made a fortune. "

Seeing his own family, Yegorushka felt an irresistible desire to complain.He did not listen to Father Christopher, but was thinking of how to speak and what to complain about.But Father Christopher's voice was harsh and harsh, which prevented him from concentrating and disturbed his thoughts.Before he had sat at the table for five minutes, he got up and went to lie down on the couch. "Why, why!" said Father Christopher in surprise, "why don't you drink tea?" Yegorushka, still thinking of complaining, leaned his forehead against the back of the sofa, and suddenly burst into tears.

"Ah, ah!" repeated Father Christopher, getting up and going to the sofa. "Yegori, what's the matter with you? Why are you crying?" "I . . . I'm sick!" began Yegorushka. "Sick?" Father Christopher panicked. "That's not good, little brother. ...how can one get sick on the road?Ouch, what's the matter with you, little brother...huh? " He put his hand on Yegorushka's forehead, touched his cheek, and said: "Yes, your forehead is very hot. . . . You must have caught a cold, or you must have eaten something." . . . and pray to God."

"Give him some quinine . . . " said Ivan Ivanitch, panicked. "No. He should be given some hot food...Yeguoli, do you want some soup? Huh?" "No, . . . I don't want to drink," replied Yegorushka. "Do you feel cold or something?" "It was cold before, but now... now it's hot. I'm sore. . . . " Ivan Ivanitch went to the sofa, touched Yegorushka's forehead, and panicked. Clear your throat and go back to the table. "Well, you just take off your clothes and lie down to sleep," said Father Christopher. "You should get a good night's sleep."

He helped Yegorushka undress, put a pillow on him, covered him with a quilt, and covered it with Ivan Ivanitch's overcoat.Then he walked away on tiptoe and sat down at the table.Yegorushka closed his eyes, and at once it seemed to him that he was not in a hotel room, but on the side of the boulevard, near the campfire.Yemelyan waved his arms, and Dymov lay on the ground with red eyes, looking mockingly at Yegorushka. "Hit him, hit him!" cried Yegorushka. "He's talking nonsense, . . . " whispered Father Christopher. "What trouble!" sighed Ivan Ivanitch.

"He'll have to be rubbed with oil and vinegar. God help him, he'll be all right tomorrow." To get rid of the nightmare, Yegorushka opened his eyes and looked at the fire.Father Christopher and Ivan Ivanitch had finished their tea and were talking in whispers.The priest smiled happily. It seemed that he could never forget that he had made a fortune in wool.What made him happy was not so much the money he made, but the thought that when he returned home, he could gather the whole family around him, slyly winking his eyes, and laughing loudly.First he had to lie to them all that he had sold the wool for less than the real price, and then he took out a fat wallet and handed it to his son-in-law Michelle, saying: "Here, take it! Look, business." Just do it!" Kuzmitchov seemed not satisfied.His face expressed the same solemn indifference and concern as before.

"Oh, if I had known that Cherebashin was willing to pay such a price," he whispered, "I wouldn't have sold the three hundred poods to Makarov in my hometown. Terrible! However, who knew the prices here have gone up? " A man in a white shirt carried out the samovar and lit the ever-burning lamp in the corner in front of the statue of the god.Father Christopher whispered something in his ear.The man made a sly, conspiratorial look, as if to say, "I see," and went out, only to return shortly afterwards, and place a container under the couch.Ivan Ivanitch spread out his quilt on the floor, yawned several times, said his prayers lazily, and lay down.

"I want to go to church to-morrow..." said Father Christopher. "I know the sacristy there. After mass I shall see the bishop, but they say he is ill." He yawned and blew out the lamp.Now, only the ever-burning lamp in front of the statue is lit. "It is said that he does not see visitors," continued Father Christopher, undressing. "In this case, I had no choice but to leave without seeing his face." He took off his long coat, and Yegorushka saw Robinson Crusoe standing before him. Robinson stirred something in a saucer, went up to Yegorushka, and whispered: "Lomonosov, are you asleep? Get up! I'll rub you with oil and vinegar." .It's very spiritual, you just have to pray to God."

Yegorushka hastily rolled over and sat up.Father Christopher took off the child's underwear, shrugged his shoulders, and breathed intermittently, as if someone was tickling him.He began to rub Yegorushka's chest. "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit..." He whispered, "Lie down on your back!... That's enough. You'll be cured tomorrow, but don't do any more sins. . . . It's hot as hell! You were on your way when the storm came, probably?" "On the way." "Then there are still people who don't get sick! In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit...there are still people who don't get sick!" After having wiped Yegorushka, Father Christopher put on his underwear, covered him up, crossed him, and went away.Later Yegorushka saw him praying to God.The old man probably knew many prayers by heart, because he stood in front of the statue for a long time, speaking in a low voice.After saying his prayers, he crossed himself at the window, at the door, at Yegorushka, at Ivan Ivanitch, lay down on a small couch without a pillow, and pulled his The long coat covers the body.A clock in the passage struck ten.Yegorushka pressed his forehead against the back of the couch in vexation at the thought of how long it would be before dawn, and stopped trying to get rid of those cloudy, gloomy dreams.But morning came much sooner than he expected. He thought he had been lying there with his forehead pressed against the back of the couch, and it hadn't been long, but when he opened his eyes, the slanting sunlight was already shining on the floor through the two windows of the small guest room. .Father Christopher and Ivan Ivanitch were not in the room.The room had been cleaned, bright, comfortable, and smelled of Father Christopher: he always smelled of cypress branches and dried cornflowers (at home, he used cornflowers for sprinkling holy water). brushes and shrine ornaments, so that he is saturated with those scents).Yegorushka looked at the pillow, at the slanting sunlight, at his now-cleaned boots, which stood side by side near the couch, and laughed.He was surprised to see that he was not lying on the wool bales, and that everything around him was dry, and that there were no lightning or thunder on the ceiling. He jumped off the couch and began to dress.He feels fine.Yesterday's illness left only a little trace, and my thighs and neck were still a little weak.So it looks like the oil and vinegar did the trick.He remembered the steamships, locomotives, wide rivers, etc. he had vaguely seen yesterday, so he quickly put on his clothes so that he could go to the pier to have a look. He had washed and put on his red cloth shirt, when suddenly the door lock clicked, and Father Christopher appeared at the door, wearing a top hat, a brown silk cassock over a long canvas coat, and leaning on his arm. Long stick.With a smile and a beaming face (an old man who has just come back from church always has a beaming face), he put the wafer and a packet of something on the table, and after praying, said: "God have mercy on us! Oh , how is your body?" "All right now," answered Yegorushka, kissing his hand. "Thank God. . . . I've just come back from mass. . . . I just went to see a sacristy I know. He invited me to his house for tea, but I didn't. A guest at home. May God be with him!" He took off his cassock, stroked his chest, and unhurriedly unwrapped the packet.Yegorushka saw a small jar of roe, a piece of dried salt fish, and a loaf of French bread. "Look, I bought it when I passed a live fish shop," said Father Christopher. "Ordinary life should not be so extravagant, but I think it can be forgiven if there are sick people in the family. The caviar is very good, it is from sturgeon..." The man in the white shirt brought a samovar and a tea set. plate. "Eat," said Father Christopher, spreading the roe on a piece of bread, and handing it to Yegorushka. "It doesn't matter if you eat or play now, but the time for you to study is coming. Remember, you have to concentrate and work hard when you study, so you can have a good future. You should memorize everything that should be memorized; if you should use your own words to explain the inner meaning without involving the external form, then use your own words.Try to learn all the subjects well.There are people who are good at arithmetic but have never heard of Peter Mogila; there are people who know Peter Mogila but can't explain the moon.No, you have to read until you understand everything!To learn Latin, French, German. ...Of course there is geography, history, theology, philosophy, mathematics... When you take your time, pray to God, and learn all the lessons diligently, then you have to go out and do things.If you know everything, it's easy to work in any industry.As long as you study hard and seek God's favor, God will show you what kind of person you should be.Doctors, judges, engineers..." Father Christopher put a little bit of caviar on a small piece of bread, put it in his mouth, and said: "The apostle Paul said: Do not learn strange and evil knowledge .Of course, if it's witchcraft, an illegal technique, or a spell like Saul's that summons ghosts from another world, or a knowledge that is useless to others or yourself, then it's better not to learn it.If you speak one language, then you learn languages.The great Basil studied mathematics and philosophy, so you study mathematics and philosophy.St. Nestor ⑤ write history, then you should study history and write history.Learn from the example of the saints. . . . " Christopher sipped his tea from a saucer, wiped his mustache, and shook his head. "Well!" he said, "I had an old-fashioned upbringing, and I've forgotten a lot of it now, but I still live differently from other people. Nothing compares. Going to a party in a crowded place, for example." Or go to a convention, say a word of Latin, or mention something in history or philosophy, and people will be satisfied, and so will I. . The priest is afraid of embarrassment, but I talk to judges, prosecutors, and lawyers casually and without ceremony. I talk politely, drink tea with them, talk and laugh, and ask them things I don't know. ...They are also very happy. That's it, little brother....Learning is light, ignorance is darkness. Go to school! Of course, it is difficult to study, and it costs a lot of money to study now....Your mother is a widow, She lives on a pension, but . . . " Father Christopher looked at the door with trepidation, and then whispered: "Ivan Ivanitch will help. He won't leave you alone. He has no children of his own. , he'll help you. Don't worry." He made a serious face, and said even more quietly: "Just remember, Yegoly, don't forget your mother and Ivan Ivanitch, please God. The Ten Commandments teach you to honor your mother, and Ivan Ivanitch is your benefactor. , is equal to your father. If you have knowledge in the future, please God don't let you hate and look down on others just because they are stupid than you, then you will be unlucky, unlucky!" Father Christopher raised his hand and repeated in a low voice: "Woe to you! Woe to you!" Father Christopher began chattering, as the saying goes, with gusto; and it seemed that he would not stop until lunch time.But the door opened, and in came Ivan Ivanitch.Uncle said hello in a hurry, sat down at the table, and began to drink tea quickly. "Well, everything is settled," he said. "You can go home today, but you have to worry about Yegor. You have to settle him down. My sister says she has a friend, Nastasya Petrovna, who lives somewhere here, and she may Willing to take him in as a boarder and partner with her." He rummaged in his wallet, took out a crumpled piece of paper, and read: "'Xiao Xiajie, Nastasya Petrovna Toskunova, lives in the house I bought. .' have to go to her right away. What a nuisance!" Not long after morning tea Ivan Ivanitch came out of the inn with Yegorushka. "What a nuisance!" muttered the uncle. "You're sticking to me like a burdock. Fuck you! You want to learn and strive to be the best, but you want me to suffer for you. . . . " They passed through By the time we entered the yard, neither the truck nor the driver was there.They left this place early in the morning and went to the dock.In a far corner of the yard, the familiar, swarthy carriage was parked, and the bay horses were standing beside the carriage, eating oats. "Good-bye, carriage!" thought Yegorushka. At first they went uphill along the main street for a long time, and then they passed through a large market place.There Ivan Ivanitch asked a policeman where Little Lower Street was. "Oh!" said the policeman, smiling. "There is still a long way to go. Follow this road until you reach the ranch!" They met several street carriages along the way, but only on special occasions, or when they met a big festival, my uncle allowed himself to enjoy the fun of riding a carriage.Yegorushka and he walked for a long time on the paved street, then on the unpaved street with sidewalks, and finally on the unpaved street.By the time their legs and tongues had sent them to Xiaoxiajie, they both blushed and took off their hats to wipe their sweat. "Please tell me," said Ivan Ivanitch to an old man sitting on a stool by the street gate, "where is Nastasya Petrovna Toskunova's house?" "There is no Toskunova here," answered the old man after a moment's thought. "Maybe you're looking for Chimo Shengke." "No, Toskunova. . . . " "I'm sorry, but there is no Toskunova here. . . . " Ivan Ivanitch shrugged his shoulders and walked slowly forward. "You needn't look any further!" the old man called after them. "If I say no, there is no!" "Listen, ma'am," said Ivan Ivanitch to an old woman who sold sunflower seeds and pears in a corner stall, "where is Nastasya Petrovna Toskunova's house?" The old woman looked at him in surprise and smiled. "Does Nastasya Petrovna still live in her own house?" she asked. "Lord, it has been eight years since she married her daughter and gave her house to her son-in-law. Now her son-in-law lives there." Her eyes seemed to say: "How come you fools don't even know such a small thing?" "And where does she live now?" asked Ivan Ivanitch. "Lord!" cried the old woman in amazement, clasping her hands together. "She has already rented a house and lived elsewhere. It has been eight years since she gave up her house to her son-in-law. What's wrong with you!" She probably expected that Ivan Ivanitch would also cry out in surprise: "That's impossible!" But Ivan Ivanitch asked very calmly: "Then where is her rented house?" The female peddler rolled up her cuffs, pointed with her bare arms, and shouted in a piercing voice: "Go straight, go straight, go straight... When you pass a little red house, there is a small alley on the left. You go into the alley and find the third door on the right. ..." Ivan Ivanitch and Yegorushka went to the Little Red House, turned left, entered the alley, and went straight to the third door on the right.On either side of the very old gray street gates stretched gray walls with great cracks in them.The part of the wall on the right leans forward sharply and is in danger of collapsing, while the wall on the left side of the street gate leans back and leans into the courtyard.The street gate itself stood upright, as if it hadn't been decided which side would be more convenient: should it fall outwards or inwards. Ivan Ivanitch opened a small side door, and he and Yegorushka saw a large yard full of weeds and burdocks.A hundred paces from the street gate stood a small house with a red roof and green shutters.A fat woman, with her cuffs rolled up and her apron turned up, was standing in the middle of the yard, and was throwing something into the ground, and she was shouting in a shrill voice like that of a peddler: "Goo! . . . Coo! Coo!" Behind her was a red-haired dog with pointed ears sitting on the ground.As soon as it saw a visitor, it ran towards the small gate, barking in a tenor voice (all red dogs bark in a tenor voice). "Who are you looking for?" cried the woman, shading the sun with her hands over her eyes. "Good morning!" cried Ivan Ivanitch, too, and, waving his stick, drove the red dog away. "Please tell me, does Nastasya Petrovna Toskunov live here?" "Just live here! What do you want with her?" Ivan Ivanitch and Yegorushka approached her.She looked at them suspiciously, and asked again: "What do you want from her?" "Perhaps you are Nastasya Petrovna?" "Well, it's me!" "It's a pleasure to meet you. . . . Well, your old friend Olga Ivanovna Konyasheva greets you. This is her youngest son. And I, perhaps you remember, are her My brother, Ivan Ivanitch.... You were originally from our town.... You were born and married there. ..." Silence followed.The fat woman looked at Ivan Ivanitch dumbly, as if she didn't believe him, or didn't understand him, and then she blushed, folded her hands, and the oats fell from her apron, Tears welled up in my eyes. "Olga Ivanovna!" she screamed, panting with excitement. "My dearest! O saint, why am I standing here like a fool? My pretty little angel! . . . " She put her arms around Yegorushka, and tears wet his face , crying like tears. "Lord!" she said, wringing her hands. "Olga's youngest son! What a pain! Like his mother!Looks exactly like his mother!But why are you standing in the yard?Please come and sit inside! " She hurried towards the house, weeping, panting, talking.The guests follow her. "My room isn't ready yet!" she said, leading her visitor into a stuffy little drawing room decorated with statues of gods and flowerpots. "Oh, Holy Mother! Vasilisha, at least go and open the shutters! My little angel! I can't describe how beautiful the child is! I didn't know Orechka had such a little son!" As soon as she had quieted down and got acquainted with the guests, Ivan Ivanitch asked to speak to her alone.Yegorushka went into another small room, where there was a sewing machine, and by the window hung a cage with a starling in it, and here, as in the drawing-room, there were statues of gods and flowerpots.Near the sewing machine stood a little girl, motionless, with a sunburned face and plump cheeks like Kit's, in a clean calico dress.She looked at Yegorushka without blinking, probably embarrassed.Yegorushka looked at her, was silent for a moment, and asked: "What's your name?" The little girl moved her lips slightly, pretended to be crying, and replied in a low voice: "Atka..." This meant that her name was Katka. "He is going to live with you," Ivan Ivanitch whispered in the drawing-room. "We'll give you ten rubles a month if you'll take the trouble. He's not a spoiled kid, he's quite quiet. . . . " "I don't know what to say to you, Ivan I Vanitch!" sighed Nastasya Petrovna with tears in her eyes. "Ten rubles is all very well, but it's scary to lead someone else's child! He might get sick or something. . . . " When Yegorushka was called back to the drawing-room, Ivan Ivanitch was already standing. There, hat in hand, said goodbye. "Well, then, let him stay with you now," he said. "goodbye! You stay here, Yegor! "He said to his nephew, 'Don't fool around here; you must listen to Nastasya Petrovna. ……goodbye!I'll come back tomorrow. " he's gone.Nastasya Petrovna embraced Yegorushka again, called him little angel, and, weeping, prepared dinner.Three minutes later Yegorushka was sitting beside her, answering her endless questions, and drinking hot and oily cabbage soup. That evening he sat down again at the table, leaning his head on one hand, and listened to Nastasya Petrovna.She, laughing and crying, told him about his mother's youth, about her own marriage, about her children. ...a cricket chirped in the stove and the lamp hummed slightly.The mistress whispered, dropping her thimble from time to time in her excitement.Her little granddaughter Katya crawled under the table to pick it up, and sat under the table for a long time each time, probably looking at Yegorushka's feet.Yegorushka listened, half asleep, looking at the old woman's face, with her hairy mole and the streaks of tears. ... He felt sad, very sad!He was put to sleep on a box, and was told that if he wanted something to eat in the evening, he could go and get himself some broiler chicken from the window-sill in the little passage, which was covered with a basin. The next morning Ivan Ivanitch and Father Christopher came to say good-bye.Nastasya Petrovna was delighted and was about to light the samovar, but Ivan Ivanitch was very busy, and shaking his hand, said: "We have no time for tea and sweets! We must start at once." Before parting, we all sat down for a minute of silence.Nastasya Petrovna sighed and looked at the statue with tearful eyes. "Very well," said Ivan Ivanitch, standing up, "then you stay here. . . . " Suddenly the serious indifference disappeared from his face, and he blushed slightly, with With a wry smile, he said: "Remember, you have to study hard. ... Don't forget Mom, listen to Nastasya Petrovna. ... If you do well in your studies, Yegor, then I won't leave you alone." He took the wallet out of his pocket, turned his back on Yegorushka, groped for a long time among the change, found a ten-kopeck piece, and handed it to Yegorushka.Father Christopher sighed, and blessed Yegorushka without haste. "In the name of the Father, of the Son, of the Holy Spirit ... study well," he said. "Study hard, little brother. . . . And if I die, mention me in your prayers. Here, I'll give you a ten-kopeck piece too. . . . " Yegorushka kissed his hand, Cried.A voice in his heart said to him: He will never see this old man again. "Nastasya Petrovna, I have already enrolled in the secondary school," said Ivan Ivanitch, in a tone that sounded like a dead body in the drawing-room. "By August 7th, please take him to the entrance examination. . . . Well, good-bye! God be with you! Good-bye, Yegor!" "You should at least have a cup of tea!" said Nastasya Petrovna in a mournful voice. Yegorushka, with tears in his eyes, did not see how his uncle and Father Christopher went out.He ran to the window, but they were no longer in the yard. The red-haired dog who barked just now came back from the street gate, showing that he had done his duty.Yegorushka, not knowing why himself, jumped up and flew out of the room.When he ran out of the street, Ivan Ivanitch was swinging a stick with a curved handle, and Father Christopher, leaning on a long stick, had just turned the corner. Only then did Yegorushka feel that everything he had known before was disappearing forever with the two of them like smoke.He felt weak all over, and sat down on the small stool, welcoming this unfamiliar new life, which had just begun to him, with sad tears. ...what would this life be like? "Notes" ① Latin: good boy. ② Peter Mojila (1596-1647), a Russian religious scholar, wrote many religious books. ③ Saul, king of ancient Israel. For the legend about Saul summoning ghosts in the Bible, see "Old Testament: The Book of Samuel (Part 1), Chapter 28. ④ Basil (about 330-379), church activist, theologian, bishop of Caesarea in Asia Minor. ⑤ St. Nestor, an ancient Russian writer, chronicler, and priest of the Kyiv Cave Monastery who lived in the eleventh and twelfth centuries. ⑥Olga's pet name.