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father and gave him ten silver roubles and ten half…roubles； to
Varvara he gave as much； and to Aksinya twenty quarter…roubles。
The chief charm of the present lay in the fact that all the
coins； as though carefully matched； were new and glittered in the
sun。 Trying to seem grave and sedate he pursed up his face and
puffed out his cheeks； and he smelt of spirits。 Probably he had
visited the refreshment bar at every station。 And again there was
a free…and…easiness about the man something superfluous and
out of place。 Then Anisim had lunch and drank tea with the old
man； and Varvara turned the new coins over in her hand and
inquired about villagers who had gone to live in the town。
〃They are all right； thank God； they get on quite well；〃 said
Anisim。 〃Only something has happened to Ivan Yegorov： his old
wife Sofya Nikiforovna is dead。 From consumption。 They ordered
the memorial dinner for the peace of her soul at the
confectioner's at two and a half roubles a head。 And there was
real wine。 Those who were peasants from our village they paid
two and a half roubles for them； too。 They ate nothing； as though
a peasant would understand sauce！〃
〃Two and a half；〃 said his father； shaking his head。
〃Well； it's not like the country there； you go into a restaurant
to have a snack of something； you ask for one thing and another；
others join till there is a party of us； one has a drink and
before you know where you are it is daylight and you've three or
four roubles each to pay。 And when one is with Samorodov he likes
to have coffee with brandy in it after everything； and brandy is
sixty kopecks for a little glass。〃
〃And he is making it all up；〃 said the old man enthusiastically；
〃he is making it all up； lying！〃
〃I am always with Samorodov now。 It is Samorodov who writes my
letters to you。 He writes splendidly。 And if I were to tell you；
mamma；〃 Anisim went on gaily； addressing Varvara； 〃the sort of
fellow that Samorodov is； you would not believe me。 We call him
Muhtar； because he is black like an Armenian。 I can see through
him； I know all his affairs like the five fingers of my hand； and
he feels that； and he always follows me about； we are regular
inseparables。 He seems not to like it in a way； but he can't get
on without me。 Where I go he goes。 I have a correct； trustworthy
eye； mamma。 One sees a peasant selling a shirt in the market
place。 'Stay； that shirt's stolen。' And really it turns out it is
so： the shirt was a stolen one。〃
〃What do you tell from？〃 asked Varvara。
〃Not from anything； I have just an eye for it。 I know nothing
about the shirt； only for some reason I seem drawn to it： it's
stolen； and that's all I can say。 Among us detectives it's come
to their saying； 'Oh； Anisim has gone to shoot snipe！' That means
looking for stolen goods。 Yes。 。 。 。 Anybody can steal； but it is
another thing to keep！ The earth is wide； but there is nowhere to
hide stolen goods。〃
〃In our village a ram and two ewes were carried off last week；〃
said Varvara； and she heaved a sigh； and there is no one to try
and find them。 。 。 。 Oh； tut； tut。 。〃
〃Well； I might have a try。 I don't mind。〃
The day of the wedding arrived。 It was a cool but bright；
cheerful April day。 People were driving about Ukleevo from early
morning with pairs or teams of three horses decked with
many…coloured ribbons on their yokes and manes； with a jingle of
bells。 The rooks； disturbed by this activity； were cawing noisily
in the willows； and the starlings sang their loudest unceasingly
as though rejoicing that there was a wedding at the Tsybukins'。
Indoors the tables were already covered with long fish； smoked
hams； stuffed fowls； boxes of sprats； pickled savouries of
various sorts； and a number of bottles of vodka and wine； there
was a smell of smoked sausage and of sour tinned lobster。 Old
Tsybukin walked about near the tables； tapping with his heels and
sharpening the knives against each other。 They kept calling
Varvara and asking for things； and she was constantly with a
distracted face running breathlessly into the kitchen； where the
man cook from Kostukov's and the woman cook from Hrymin Juniors'
had been at work since early morning。 Aksinya； with her hair
curled； in her stays without her dress on； in new creaky boots；
flew about the yard like a whirlwind showing glimpses of her bare
knees and bosom。
It was noisy； there was a sound of scolding and oaths； passers…by
stopped at the wide…open gates； and in everything there was a
feeling that something extraordinary was happening。
〃They have gone for the bride！〃
The bells began jingling and died away far beyond the village。 。
。 。 Between two and three o'clock people ran up： again there was
a jingling of bells： they were bringing the bride！ The church was
full； the candelabra were lighted； the choir were singing from
music books as old Tsybukin had wished it。 The glare of the
lights and the bright coloured dresses dazzled Lipa； she felt as
though the singers with their loud voices were hitting her on the
head with a hammer。 Her boots and the stays； which she had put on
for the first time in her life； pinched her； and her face looked
as though she had only just come to herself after fainting； she
gazed about without understanding。 Anisim； in his black coat with
a red cord instead of a tie； stared at the same spot lost in
thought； and when the singers shouted loudly he hurriedly crossed
himself。 He felt touched and disposed to weep。 This church was
familiar to him from earliest childhood； at one time his dead
mother used to bring him here to take the sacrament； at one time
he used to sing in the choir； every ikon he remembered so well；
every corner。 Here he was being married； he had to take a wife
for the sake of doing the proper thing； but he was not thinking
of that now； he had forgotten his wedding completely。 Tears
dimmed his eyes so that he could not see the ikons； he felt heavy
at heart； he prayed and besought God that the misfortunes that
threatened him； that were ready to burst upon him to…morrow； if
not to…day； might somehow pass him by as storm…clouds in time of
drought pass over the village without yielding one drop of rain。
And so many sins were heaped up in the past； so many sins； all
getting away from them or setting them right was so beyond hope
that it seemed incongruous even to ask forgiveness。 But he did
ask forgiveness； and even gave a loud sob； but no one took any
notice of that； since they all supposed he had had a drop too
much。
There was a sound of a fretful childish wail：
〃Take me away； mamma darling！〃
〃Quiet there！〃 cried the priest。
When they returned from the church people ran after them； there
were crowds； too； round the shop； round the gates； and in the
yard under the windows。 The peasant women came in to sing songs
of congratulation to them。 The young couple had scarcely crossed
the threshold when the singers； who were already standing in the
outer room with their music books； broke into a loud chant at the
top of their voices； a band ordered expressly from the town began
playing。 Foaming Don wine was brought in tall wine…glasses； and
Elizarov； a carpen