An ordinary story - Goncharov I.A. Challenge accepted

It was a beautiful morning. The lake familiar to the reader in the village of Grachakh was slightly rippled by a slight swell. My eyes involuntarily squeezed shut from the blinding shine sun rays, sparkling with either diamond or emerald sparks in the water. Weeping birches bathed their branches in the lake, and in some places the banks were overgrown with sedge, in which were hidden large yellow flowers resting on wide floating leaves. Light clouds sometimes floated into the sun; suddenly it seems to turn away from the Rooks; then the lake, the grove, and the village - everything will instantly darken; one distance shines brightly. The cloud will pass - the lake will sparkle again, the fields will be covered in gold.
Anna Pavlovna has been sitting on the balcony since five o'clock. What caused it: sunrise, Fresh air or the singing of a lark? No! she does not take her eyes off the road that goes through the grove. Agrafena came to ask for the keys. Anna Pavlovna did not look at her and, without taking her eyes off the road, handed over the keys and did not even ask why. The cook appeared: she, also without looking at him, gave him many orders. Another day the table was ordered for ten people.
Anna Pavlovna was left alone again. Suddenly her eyes sparkled; all the strength of her soul and body passed into her vision: something blackened on the road. Someone is driving, but quietly, slowly. Oh! this cart is going down the mountain. Anna Pavlovna frowned.
- Someone has had a hard time! - she grumbled, - no, to go around; everyone is coming here.
With displeasure, she sank back into the chair and again, with trembling anticipation, fixed her gaze on the grove, not noticing anything around. And there was something to notice around: the scenery began to change significantly. The midday air, heated by the sultry rays of the sun, became stuffy and heavy. So the sun hid. It became dark. And the forest, and distant villages, and grass - everything took on an indifferent, somehow ominous color.
Anna Pavlovna woke up and looked up. My God! Stretching from the west, like a living monster, was a black, ugly spot with a copper tint along the edges and was quickly approaching the village and the grove, spreading like huge wings to the sides. Everything in nature is sad. The cows hung their heads; the horses fanned themselves with their tails, flared their nostrils and snorted, shaking their manes. The dust under their hooves did not rise up, but crumbled heavily, like sand, under the wheels. The cloud was approaching menacingly. Soon a distant rumble slowly rolled through.
Everything became quiet, as if expecting something unprecedented. Where did these birds go that fluttered and sang so briskly in the sun? Where are the insects that buzzed so variedly in the grass? Everything was hidden and silent, and soulless objects seemed to share an ominous foreboding. The trees stopped swaying and touching each other with their branches; they straightened up; only occasionally they leaned their heads together, as if mutually warning themselves in a whisper about imminent danger. The cloud had already covered the horizon and formed some kind of leaden, impenetrable arch. In the village everyone tried to get home on time. There came a moment of general, solemn silence. A fresh breeze blew from the forest like a leading messenger, blew cool air into the traveler’s face, rustled through the leaves, casually slammed the gate in the hut and, swirling up dust in the street, fell silent in the bushes. A stormy whirlwind rushes behind him, slowly moving a column of dust along the road; so he burst into the village, threw down several rotten boards from the fence, demolished the thatched roof, lifted up the skirt of carrying water peasant women and drove roosters and hens along the street, fanning their tails.
It flashed by. Silence again. Everything is fussing and hiding; only the stupid sheep does not foresee anything: he indifferently chews his cud, standing in the middle of the street, and looks in one direction, not understanding the general anxiety; and a feather and a straw, circling along the road, try to keep up with the whirlwind.
Two or three large drops of rain fell - and suddenly lightning flashed. The old man stood up from the rubble and hurriedly led his little grandchildren into the hut; The old woman, crossing herself, hastily closed the window.
Thunder struck and, drowning out the human noise, rolled solemnly, regally through the air. The frightened horse breaks away from the hitching post and rushes with the rope into the field; the peasant pursues him in vain. And the rain just keeps pouring down and beating down, more and more often, and crushes into the roofs and windows harder and harder. A little white hand timidly puts out onto the balcony the object of tender care - flowers.
At the first clap of thunder, Anna Pavlovna crossed herself and left the balcony.
“No, apparently there’s nothing to wait for today,” she said with a sigh, “I stopped somewhere because of the thunderstorm, perhaps towards nightfall.”
Suddenly the sound of wheels was heard, not from the grove, but from the other side. Someone drove into the yard. Adueva’s heart sank.
“What about from there? - she thought, - didn’t he want to come secretly? No, there’s no road here.”
She didn't know what to think; but soon everything was explained. A minute later Anton Ivanovich entered. His hair turned gray; he himself became fat; cheeks swollen from inactivity and overeating. He was wearing the same frock coat, the same wide trousers.
“I’ve been waiting for you, I’ve been waiting, Anton Ivanovich,” Anna Pavlovna began, “I thought you wouldn’t,” I was in despair.
- It’s a sin to think that! to anyone else, mother - yes! You can’t get me to just anyone... just not to you. It’s not my fault that I hesitated: after all, I’m riding around on one horse these days.
- What's wrong? – Anna Pavlovna asked absentmindedly, moving towards the window.
- Why, mother, did the pegash go lame from Pavel Savich’s christening: the difficult coachman managed to put the old barn door through the ditch... poor people, you see! The new board is gone! And on the door there was a nail or a hook, or something - the evil one knows them! As soon as the horse stepped, it darted to the side and almost broke my neck... such arrows! Since then he has been limping... After all, there are such stingy people! You won’t believe, mother, that they have this in their house: in some almshouse the people are better supported. And in Moscow, on the Kuznetsky Bridge, every year they’ll lose ten thousand!
Anna Pavlovna listened to him absentmindedly and shook her head slightly when he finished.
- But I received a letter from Sashenka, Anton Ivanovich! - she interrupted, - he writes that it will be around the twentieth: so I didn’t remember with joy.
- I heard, mother: Proshka said, but at first I didn’t understand what he was saying: I thought that he had already arrived; With joy, I started to sweat.
- God bless you, Anton Ivanovich, for loving us.
- Why not love! But I carried Alexander Fedorych in my arms: it’s like being my own.
- Thank you, Anton Ivanovich: God will reward you! And I hardly sleep the other night and don’t let people sleep: he’ll come unequally, and we’ll all sleep - it’ll be good! Yesterday and the day before yesterday I walked to the grove, and I would have walked today, but damned old age is taking over. At night, insomnia exhausted me. Sit down, Anton Ivanovich. Yes, you are all wet: would you like to have a drink and breakfast? We might have to dine late: we’ll wait for our dear guest.
- So maybe have a snack. And then, I must admit, I had breakfast.
- Where did you manage to do this?
- And at a crossroads he stopped at Marya Karpovna. After all, I had to pass them by: more for the horse than for myself: I let her rest. It's no joke in the current heat to fly twelve miles! By the way, I had a snack there. It’s good that he didn’t listen: he didn’t stay, no matter how they held him, otherwise the thunderstorm would have taken over there for the whole day.
- What, how is Marya Karpovna doing?
- God bless! bows to you.
- I humbly thank you; and what about my daughter, Sofya Mikhailovna, and what about my husband?
- Nothing, mother; This is my sixth child on the trip. They expect it in two weeks. They asked me to visit around that time. And in the house there is such poverty that you wouldn’t even notice it. It seems like it would be about children? but no: right there!
- What do you!
- By God! in the chambers the doorposts were all crooked; the floor just moves under your feet; It's leaking through the roof. And there’s nothing to fix it, but they’ll serve soup, cheesecakes and lamb on the table - that’s all! But how hard they call!
- There, the crow was trying to fight for my Sasha!
- What would she do, mother, for such a falcon! I can’t wait to take a look: what a handsome tea! I’m wondering something, Anna Pavlovna: hasn’t he wooed some princess or countess there, and isn’t he coming to ask for your blessing and invite you to the wedding?
- What are you talking about, Anton Ivanovich! - said Anna Pavlovna, overjoyed.
- Right!
- Ah! you, my darling, God bless you!.. Yes! it was out of my mind: I wanted to tell you, but I forgot: I think, I think, what is it, it’s on the tip of my tongue; Well, what the hell, it would have passed just like that. Shouldn't you have breakfast first, or tell me now?
“It doesn’t matter, mother, even during breakfast: I won’t utter a single piece... not a word, I mean.”
“Well,” Anna Pavlovna began when breakfast was brought and Anton Ivanovich sat down at the table, “and I see...
- Well, aren’t you going to eat it yourself? - asked Anton Ivanovich.
- AND! Do I have time to eat now? Even a piece won’t go down my throat; I didn’t even finish my cup of tea just now. So I see in a dream that I seem to be sitting this way, and so, opposite me, Agrafena is standing with a tray. I seem to say to her: “What am I saying, Agrafena, is your tray empty?” - and she is silent, and she keeps looking at the door. “Oh, my mothers! - I think to myself in a dream, “why did she stare her eyes there?” So I began to look... I looked: suddenly Sasha came in, so sad, came up to me and said, as if he was saying in reality: “Goodbye,” he says, mamma, I’m going far away, over there,” and pointed to the lake, “ and he says I won’t come again.” - “Where is it, my friend?” - I ask, and my heart aches. He seems to be silent, but he looks at me so strangely and pitifully. “Where did you come from, my dear?” – I seem to ask again. And he, cordial, sighed and again pointed to the lake. “From the pool,” he said barely audibly, “from the watermen.” I started shaking all over and woke up. My pillow is covered in tears; and in reality I can’t come to my senses; I’m sitting on the bed, and I’m crying, I’m bursting into tears, crying. As soon as I got up, I lit the lamp in front of Kazanskaya mother of god: maybe she, our merciful intercessor, will save him from all troubles and misfortunes. This brought such doubt, by God! I can't understand what this means? Would something happen to him? It's such a thunderstorm...
- It’s good, mother, to cry in your sleep: for good! - said Anton Ivanovich, breaking an egg on a plate, - there will certainly be tomorrow.
“And I was wondering if we should go after breakfast to the grove, to meet him; somehow they would have dragged themselves; Yes, look how dirty it suddenly became.
- No, it won’t happen today: I have a sign!
At that moment, the distant sounds of a bell were heard on the wind and suddenly fell silent. Anna Pavlovna held her breath.
- Ah! - she said, easing her chest with a sigh, - and I was thinking...
Suddenly again.
- Oh my God! no bell? – she said and rushed to the balcony.
“No,” answered Anton Ivanovich, “it’s a foal grazing close here with a bell on its neck: I saw it on the road.” I also scared him, otherwise he would have wandered into the rye. Why don't you order them to be hobbled?
Suddenly the bell rang as if right under the balcony and began to ring louder and louder.
- Oh, fathers! so it is: here, here he goes! It's him, it's him! - Anna Pavlovna shouted. - Ahah! Run, Anton Ivanovich! Where are people? Where is Agrafena? There’s no one!.. as if he’s going to someone else’s house, my God!
She was completely confused. And the bell was already ringing as if in the room.
Anton Ivanovich jumped out from behind the table.
- He! He! - Anton Ivanovich shouted, “there’s Yevsey on the box!” Where is your image, bread and salt? Give it quickly! What will I take out to his porch? How can you live without bread and salt? there is a sign... What a mess you have! no one thought! Why are you standing there, Anna Pavlovna, and not coming towards me? Run quickly!..
- I can not! - she said with difficulty, - her legs were paralyzed.
And with these words she sank into her chair. Anton Ivanovich grabbed a loaf of bread from the table, put it on a plate, put down the salt shaker and rushed through the door.
- Nothing is prepared! - he grumbled.
But three lackeys and two girls burst into the same doors to meet him.
- He's coming! coming! I arrived! - they shouted, pale, frightened, as if robbers had arrived.
Alexander appeared after them.
- Sashenka! you are my friend!.. - Anna Pavlovna exclaimed and suddenly stopped and looked at Alexander in bewilderment.
- Where is Sashenka? – she asked.
- Yes, it’s me, mummy! - he answered, kissing her hand.
- You?
She looked at him intently.
-Are you really my friend? – she said and hugged him tightly. Then suddenly she looked at him again.
- What's wrong with you? Are you unwell? – she asked with concern, not letting go of his embrace.
- Healthy, mummy.
- Healthy! What happened to you, my dear? Is this how I let you go?
She pressed it to her heart and cried bitterly. She kissed his head, cheeks, eyes.
- Where are your hairs? they were like silk! - she said through tears, - her eyes shone like two stars; cheeks - blood with milk; you were all like pouring apple! You know, dashing people tormented you, they envied your beauty and my happiness! What was uncle watching? And she also gave it from hand to hand, like a worthwhile person! Didn't know how to save treasures! You are my darling!..
The old woman cried and showered Alexander with caresses.
“Apparently, tears in a dream are not good!” - thought Anton Ivanovich.
- Why are you, mother, screaming over him, as if over a dead man? - he whispered, - it’s not good, there’s a sign.
- Hello, Alexander Fedorych! - he said, - God brought us to see each other in this world.
Alexander silently shook his hand. Anton Ivanovich went to see if everything had been taken out of the wagon, then he began to call the servants to greet the master. But everyone was already crowding in the hallway and in the entryway. He put everyone in order and taught who should greet each other: who should kiss the master’s hand, who should kiss the shoulder, who should just kiss the hem of their dress, and what to say at the same time. I completely drove one guy away, telling him: “First of all, go wash my face and wipe your nose.”
Yevsey, belted with a belt, covered in dust, greeted the servants; she surrounded him. He gave St. Petersburg gifts: to some a silver ring, to others a birch snuff box. Seeing Agrafena, he stopped as if petrified and looked at her silently, with stupid delight. She looked at him from the side, from under her brows, but immediately and involuntarily betrayed herself: she laughed with joy, then began to cry, but suddenly turned away and frowned.
- Why are you keeping silent? - she said, - what a fool: and he doesn’t say hello!
But he couldn't say anything. He approached her with the same stupid smile. She barely let him hug her.
“It wasn’t easy to bring,” she said angrily, looking at him furtively from time to time; but her eyes and smile expressed the greatest joy. - Tea, did the St. Petersburg people... screw you and the master there? Look, what a mustache he has grown!
He took a small paper box out of his pocket and handed it to her. There were bronze earrings. Then he took out of the bag a bag in which a large scarf was wrapped.
She grabbed it and quickly shoved both of them into the closet without looking.
“Show me the gifts, Agrafena Ivanovna,” said some of the servants.
- Well, what is there to see? What didn't you see? Get out of here! What are you doing here? – she shouted at them.
- And here’s another one! – Yevsey said, handing her another package.
- Show me, show me! - some pestered.
Agrafena tore the piece of paper, and several decks of played, but still almost new, cards fell from there.
- I found something to bring! - said Agrafena, - do you think all I care about is playing? of course! I came up with something: I’ll start playing with you!
She also hid the cards. An hour later, Yevsey was again sitting in his old place, between the table and the stove.
- God! what peace! – he said, now tucking in, now stretching out his legs, “what’s the matter here!” And here, in St. Petersburg, it’s just hard labor! Is there anything to snack on, Agrafena Ivanovna? WITH last station didn't eat anything.
-Are you still kicking your habit? On the! You see how he started; Apparently you weren't fed at all there.
Alexander walked through all the rooms, then through the garden, stopping at every bush, at every bench. His mother accompanied him. She, peering into his pale face, sighed, but was afraid to cry; Anton Ivanovich frightened her. She asked her son about his life, but could not find out the reason why he became thin, pale and where his hair went. She offered him food and drink, but he, refusing everything, said that he was tired from the journey and wanted to sleep.
Anna Pavlovna looked to see if the bed was well made, scolded the girl, which was harsh, forced her to change it with her, and did not leave until Alexander lay down. She walked out on tiptoe and threatened people not to dare speak or breathe out loud and to walk around without boots. Then she ordered Yevsey to be sent to her. Agrafena also came with him. Yevsey bowed to the lady's feet and kissed her hand.
- What happened to Sashenka? - she asked menacingly, - who did he look like - huh?
Yevsey was silent.
- Why are you silent? - said Agrafena, - do you hear the lady asking you?
- Why has he lost so much weight? - said Anna Pavlovna, - where did his hairs go?
- I can’t know, madam! - said Yevsey, - masterly business!
– You can’t know! Why were you watching?
Yevsey did not know what to say and remained silent.
- We found someone to trust, madam! - Agrafena said, looking with love at Yevsey, - it would be good for a person! What did you do there? Tell the lady! That's it for you!
- Am I not zealous, madam? - Yevsey said fearfully, looking first at the lady, then at Agrafena, - he served faithfully, if you please ask Arkhipych.
-Which Arkhipych?
- At the local janitor's.
- Look, what a fuss! – Agrafena noted. - Why are you listening to him, madam! If only I had locked him in a stable, I would have known!
“I’m ready not only to fulfill my masters’ will,” continued Yevsey, “even to die now!” I'll take the image off the wall...
- You are all good with words! - said Anna Pavlovna. - How can I do anything, you’re not here! Apparently, he looked after the master well: he allowed him, my dear, to lose his health! Did you look! Here you will see with me...
She threatened him.
“Didn’t I look, madam?” At the age of eight, only one shirt was missing from the master’s linen, and even my worn-out ones were intact.
-Where did she go? – Anna Pavlovna asked angrily.
- The laundress lost it. I then reported to Alexander Fedorych to deduct from her, but they didn’t say anything.
“You see, the bastard,” Anna Pavlovna remarked, “she was flattered by that good underwear!”
- How not to look! – continued Yevsey. “God grant that everyone can fulfill their duties in this way.” Sometimes they would still like to rest, and I’d run to the bakery...
– What kind of rolls did he eat?
- White s, good.
– I know that they are white; yes, rich?
- What a pillar! - said Agrafena, - and he doesn’t know how to say a word, and he’s also from St. Petersburg!
- No way! - answered Yevsey, - fasting.
- Lenten! oh you, such a villain! murderer! robber! - said Anna Pavlovna, blushing with anger. - You didn’t think of buying him some buns? I was watching!
- Yes, madam, they didn’t order...
- They didn’t order it! He, my darling, doesn’t care what you put in him - he eats everything. And that didn’t even occur to you? Have you forgotten that he ate all the sweet rolls here? Buy lean rolls! Is that right, you took the money somewhere else? Here I am! What else? speak...
“After they’ve had tea,” Yevsey continued, timidly, “they’ll go to office, and I’ll take care of the boots: I’ll clean them all morning, I’ll clean everything, sometimes three times; I'll take it off in the evening and clean it again. How, madam, didn’t I look: I’ve never seen such boots on any of the gentlemen. Pyotr Ivanovich's cleaning was worse, even though he had three lackeys.
- Why is he like this? – Anna Pavlovna said, somewhat softening.
- It must be from writing, madam.
– Did you write a lot?
– A lot of s; every day.
- What did he write? papers, what?
- Must be papers from.
- Why didn’t you calm down?
“I calmed you down, madam: “Don’t sit, I say, Alexander Fedorych, if you please, go for a walk: the weather is good, a lot of gentlemen are walking.” What kind of writing is this? Push the breast: mama, they say, they will become angry...”
- What is he?
- “Get out, they say, get out: you’re a fool!”
- And truly a fool! - said Agrafena.
Yevsey looked at her at the same time, then again continued to look at the lady.
- Well, didn’t your uncle calm you down? – asked Anna Pavlovna.
- Where, madam! They’ll come, and if they find you doing nothing, they’ll attack you. “What do they say, you’re not doing anything? This is not a village, they say, you have to work, they say, and not lie on your side! That’s it, they say, you’re dreaming!” And then they will also choose...
- How will they choose?
- “Province...” they say... and they go and go... they scold so much that sometimes they wouldn’t listen.
- Let him be empty! - Anna Pavlovna said, spitting. “They’d shoot their own people, and they’d scold them!” Anything to calm him down... Lord, my God, merciful king! - she exclaimed, - who can we rely on today, if our relatives are worse than a wild beast? A dog even takes care of its puppies, but here the uncle tormented his own nephew! And you, such a fool, couldn’t tell your uncle so that he wouldn’t deign to bark at the master like that, but would go away. I would shout at my wife, such a scoundrel! You see, I found someone to scold: “Work, work!” I would be stuck at work myself! Dog, really, dog, God forgive me! The serf found a job!
Silence followed.
– How long ago did Sashenka become so thin? – she asked later.
“For three years now,” answered Yevsey, “Alexander Fedorych began to feel painfully bored and took little food; suddenly they began to lose weight, lose weight, and melted like a candle.
- Why were you bored?
- God knows, madam. Pyotr Ivanovich deigned to tell them something about this; I tried to listen, but surprisingly, I couldn’t make it out.
-What did he say?
Yevsey thought for a minute, apparently trying to remember something, and moved his lips.
- They called them something, but I forgot...
Anna Pavlovna and Agrafena looked at him and waited impatiently for an answer.
“Well?..” said Anna Pavlovna.
Yevsey was silent.
“Come on, dear fellow, say something,” added Agrafena, “the lady is waiting.”
“You seem... disappointed...,” Yevsey finally said.
Anna Pavlovna looked with bewilderment at Agrafena, Agrafena at Yevsey, Yevsey at both of them, and everyone was silent.
- How? – asked Anna Pavlovna.
- Razo... disappointed, just like that, I remembered! – Yevsey answered in a decisive voice.
-What kind of misfortune is this? God! illness, or what? – Anna Pavlovna asked with longing.
“Oh, doesn’t that mean you’re spoiled, madam?” – Agrafena said hastily.
Anna Pavlovna turned pale and spat.
- May you hit your tongue! - she said. – Did he go to church?
Yevsey hesitated a little.
“You can’t say, madam, that it hurts to go…” he answered hesitantly, “you can almost say that you didn’t go... there gentlemen, honorable people, don’t go to church very often...”
- That's why! - said Anna Pavlovna with a sigh and crossed herself. “Apparently, God was not pleased with my prayers alone.” The dream is not a lie: it’s like I’ve escaped from a whirlpool, my darling!
Anton Ivanovich came here.
“Dinner’s getting cold, Anna Pavlovna,” he said, “isn’t it time to wake up Alexander Fedorych?”
- No, no, God forbid! - she answered, - he did not order to wake himself up. “Eat alone,” he says: “I have no appetite; I’d better sleep, he says: sleep will strengthen me; unless I want to in the evening.” So this is what you do, Anton Ivanovich: don’t be angry with me, the old woman: I’ll go light the lamp and pray while Sashenka rests; I have no time for food; and you take a bite alone.
“Okay, mother, okay, I’ll do it: rely on me.”
“Yes, do me a favor,” she continued, “you are our friend, you love us so much, call Yevsey and ask him why Sashenka became thoughtful and thin and where did his hair go?” You are a man: it’s more dexterous for you... didn’t they upset him there? after all, there are such villains in the world... find out everything.
“Okay, mother, okay: I’ll try, I’ll find out all the ins and outs.” Send Yevsey to me while I have dinner - I’ll do everything!
- Great, Yevsey! - he said, sitting down at the table and tucking his napkin into his tie, - how are you?
- Hello, sir. What kind of life is ours? bad s. You've become so kind here.
Anton Ivanovich spat.
– Don’t jinx it, brother: how long before sin? - he added and began to eat cabbage soup.
- Well, what are you doing there? - he asked.
- Yes, so with: it doesn’t hurt, it’s good.
- Tea, are the provisions good? What did you eat?
- What's wrong? If you grab some jelly and a cold pie from the shop, that’s lunch!
- What, in a shop? Do you have your own oven?
- We didn’t cook at home. Single gentlemen don't keep a table there.
- What you! - said Anton Ivanovich, putting down his spoon.
- Right sir: they even carried it to the master from the tavern.
- What a gypsy life! A! don't lose weight! Come on, have a drink!
- I humbly thank you, sir! For your health!
Then silence followed. Anton Ivanovich was eating.
- How much are cucumbers? – he asked, putting a cucumber on his plate.
- Forty kopecks ten.
- Is it full?
- By God s; Why, sir, it’s a shame to say: sometimes they bring pickles and cucumbers from Moscow.
- Oh, my God! Well! don't lose weight!
– Where can you see such a cucumber? - continued Yevsey, pointing to one cucumber, - you won’t see it in your dreams! trifle, rubbish: they wouldn’t even look here, but over there the gentlemen eat! In a rare house, sir, they bake bread. And this is there to store cabbage, salt corned beef, soak mushrooms - there is nothing in the plant.
Anton Ivanovich shook his head, but said nothing, because his mouth was full.
- How? – he asked, having chewed.
- Everything is in the shop; and what is not in the shop is right there somewhere in the sausage shop; if not there, it’s in the candy store; And if you don’t have anything in the pastry shop, go to the English store: the French have everything!
Silence.
- Well, how much are the piglets? - asked Anton Ivanovich, taking almost half a pig onto his plate.
- I don’t know s; didn’t buy: something expensive, two rubles, it seems...
- Ah ah ah! don't lose weight! so expensive!
“Their good gentlemen eat little; more and more officials.”
Silence again.
- Well, how are you there: bad? - asked Anton Ivanovich.
- And God forbid, how bad it is! Here there is some kind of kvass, and there the beer is thinner; and kvass makes your stomach feel like it’s boiling all day long! Only one thing is good: polish, you can’t get enough of it! and what a smell: I could eat it!
- What you!
- By God, s.
Silence.
- Well, how about it? - asked Anton Ivanovich, having chewed.
- Yes, sir.
- Did you eat badly?
- Badly. Alexander Fedorych ate like this, just a little: he was completely unaccustomed to food; They don’t even eat a pound of bread at lunch.
- Don't lose weight! - said Anton Ivanovich. - It’s all because it’s expensive, or what?
- And it’s expensive, and there’s no custom to eat your fill every day. The gentlemen eat as if on the sly, once a day, and then when they have time, at about five o’clock, sometimes at six; otherwise they’ll intercept something and that’s the end of it. This is their last job: first they will do all the work, and then eat.
- What a life! - said Anton Ivanovich. - Don't lose weight! It's a wonder you didn't die there! And has it been like this the whole century?
- No s: on holidays, gentlemen, sometimes they gather together, so, God forbid, how they eat! They’ll go to some German tavern, listen to you, and eat a hundred rubles. And what they drink - God forbid! worse than our brother! It used to be that guests would gather at Pyotr Ivanovich’s place: they would sit at the table at six o’clock, and get up in the morning at four o’clock.
Anton Ivanovich widened his eyes.
- What you! - he said, - and everyone eats?
- They eat everything!
– At least take a look: it’s not our way! What do they eat?
- Well, sir, there’s nothing to see! You won’t know what you’re eating: the Germans will put God knows what in the food: you won’t even want to put it in your mouth. And their pepper is not like that; they add something from overseas bottles to the sauce... Once Pyotr Ivanovich’s cook treated me to the master’s dish, I felt sick for three days. I saw an olive in the dish: I thought, like there is an olive here; I figured it out - lo and behold: there’s a small fish; I felt disgusted and spat it out; took another - and the same thing happened there; yes in all... oh, damn you!..
- How come they put it there on purpose?
- God knows! I asked: the guys laugh, they say: so, listen, they will be born. And what kind of food? First, the hot dish will be served, properly, with pies, but only pies the size of a thimble; suddenly you put six of them in your mouth, you want to chew, you look - they’re not there, and they’ve melted... After the hot one, they suddenly give you something sweet, there’s beef, and there’s ice cream, and there’s some kind of herb, and there’s roast... and I wouldn’t eat it !
- So your stove wasn’t lit? Well, how not to lose weight! - said Anton Ivanovich, getting up from the table.
“I thank you, my God,” he began out loud, with a deep sigh, “for you have filled me with heavenly blessings... what am I! The tongue began to pray: earthly blessings, and do not deprive me of your heavenly kingdom.”
- Clear the table: the gentlemen will not eat. Have another pig ready this evening...or turkey? Alexander Fedorych loves turkey; He, tea, will get hungry. Now bring me some fresh hay to the light: I’ll sigh for another hour; Wake me up there for tea. If Alexander Fedorych moves a little, then... push me away.
Rising from sleep, he came to Anna Pavlovna.
- Well, Anton Ivanovich? – she asked.
- Nothing, mother, I humbly thank you for the bread and the salt... and I fell asleep so sweetly; the hay is so fresh, fragrant...
- Cheers, Anton Ivanovich. Well, what does Yevsey say? Did you ask?
- How not to ask! I found out everything: empty! everything will get better. It all turns out that the food there was, listen, bad.
- Food?
- Yes; Judge for yourself: cucumbers are forty kopecks, ten kopecks, a pig is two rubles, and the food is all confectionery - and you won’t get your fill. How not to lose weight! Don’t worry, mother, we will get him back on his feet here and cure him. You tell me to prepare more birch tincture; I'll give you the recipe; I got it from Prokofy Astafich; Yes, morning and evening, and give a glass or two, and before dinner it’s good; maybe with holy water... do you have it?
- Yes, yes: you brought it.
- Yes, indeed, I am. Choose richer foods. I already ordered a pig or turkey to be roasted for dinner.
- Thank you, Anton Ivanovich.
- No way, mother! Should I order some more chicken with white sauce?
- I command...
- Why do you need it yourself? what am I supposed to do? I'll bother... give it to me.
- Help me, my dear father.
He left, and she thought.
Women's instinct and her mother's heart told her that it was not food main reason Alexander's thoughtfulness. She began to skillfully find out through hints, sideways, but Alexander did not understand these hints and remained silent. So two or three weeks passed. A lot of piglets, chickens and turkeys went to Anton Ivanovich, but Alexander was still thoughtful, thin, and his hair did not grow.
Then Anna Pavlovna decided to talk to him directly.
“Listen, my friend, Sashenka,” she said one day, “you’ve been living here for about a month, and I haven’t seen you smile even once: you walk like a cloud, looking at the ground.” Or is nothing nice to you on your native side? Apparently, someone else’s is nicer; Do you miss her, or what? My heart breaks, looking at you. What happened to you? Tell me: what are you missing? I won't regret anything. Has anyone offended you: I will get to that.
“Don’t worry, mummy,” said Alexander, “it’s just that, nothing!” I entered into years, became more reasonable, and that’s why I’m thoughtful...
- Why is it bad? where is the hair?
“I can’t tell you why... you can’t tell everything about what happened at eight years old... maybe my health was a little upset...
- Why does it hurt you?
“It hurts both here and here.” – He pointed to the head and heart. Anna Pavlovna touched his forehead with her hand.
“There’s no fever,” she said. - What would that be? shoots you in the head?
- No... so...
- Sashenka! Let's send for Ivan Andreich.
-Who is Ivan Andreich?
– New doctor; I arrived two years ago. Doc is like, what a miracle! Prescribes almost no medications; He makes some tiny grains himself - and they help. Over there, Thomas was suffering from stomach pain; He roared for three days: he gave him three grains, as if it was a breeze! Get treatment, darling!
- No, mamma, he won’t help me: it will pass like that.
- Why are you bored? What kind of misfortune is this?
- So…
-What do you want?
- I don’t know either; I miss you so much.
- What a miracle, Lord! - said Anna Pavlovna. - You say you like the food, there are all the amenities, and the rank is good... what, it seems? and you miss it! Sashenka,” she said after a pause, quietly, “isn’t it time for you... to get married?”
- What do you! no, I'm not getting married.
“And I have a girl in mind—like a doll: pink, delicate; This is how the cerebellum seems to flow from bone to bone. The waist is so thin and slender; I studied in the city, at a boarding school. Behind her are seventy-five souls and twenty-five thousand in money, and a glorious dowry: they made it in Moscow; and good relatives... Eh? Sashenka? I already got into a conversation with my mother over coffee, and jokingly dropped the word: it seems that her ears are on top of her head with joy...
“I’m not getting married,” Alexander repeated.
- More than ever?
- Never.
- Lord have mercy! what will come of this? All people are like people, only God knows who you are like! And what a joy it would be for me! God would bring his grandchildren to nurse. Really, marry her; you will love her...
“I won’t love you, mamma: I’ve already fallen out of love.”
- How did you fall out of love without getting married? Who did you love there?
- A girl.
- Why didn’t you get married?
- She cheated on me.
- How did you change? You weren't married to her yet, were you?
Alexander was silent.
“Your girls are good there: they love you before marriage!” Changed it! such a bastard! Happiness was asking itself to be in her hands, but she didn’t know how to appreciate it, the scoundrel! If I had seen her, I would have spit in her face. What was uncle watching? Who did she find better, I should have looked?.. Well, is she the only one? you'll love another time.
“I loved you another time too.”
- Who?
- A widow.
- Well, why didn’t you get married?
- I changed that one myself.
Anna Pavlovna looked at Alexander and did not know what to say.
“Changed!..” she repeated. - Apparently, she’s some kind of dissolute! – she added later. - Truly a whirlpool, God forgive me: they love before marriage, without a church ceremony; cheating... That this is done in this world, as you look! You know, the end of the world is soon!.. Well, tell me, don’t you want anything? Maybe the food is not to your taste? I will order a cook from the city...
- No, thank you: everything is fine.
“Maybe you’re bored alone: ​​I’ll send for the neighbors.”
- No no. Don't worry, mommy! I feel calm and good here; everything will pass... I haven’t looked around yet.
That's all that Anna Pavlovna could achieve.
“No,” she thought, “without God, apparently, not a single step.” She invited Alexander to go with her to mass in the nearest village, but he overslept twice, and she did not dare to wake him. Finally she called him in the evening to the all-night vigil. “Perhaps,” said Alexander, and they drove off. The mother entered the church and stood at the very choir, Alexander remained at the door.
The sun was already setting and cast indirect rays, which either played on the golden frames of the icons, or illuminated the dark and stern faces of the saints and destroyed with their brilliance the weak and timid flicker of the candles. The church was almost empty: the peasants were at work in the fields; only in the corner near the exit were several old women tied with white scarves crowded together. Others, saddened and resting their cheek on their hand, sat on the stone steps of the chapel and from time to time emitted loud and heavy sighs, God knows, whether about their sins, or about household matters. Others, crouching to the ground, lay prostrate for a long time, praying.
A fresh breeze rushed through the cast-iron grille into the window and either lifted the fabric on the throne, or played with the priest’s gray hair, or turned over the page of a book and put out a candle. The steps of the priest and sexton echoed loudly on the stone floor in the empty church; their voices echoed sadly through the vaults. Above, in the dome, jackdaws screamed sonorously and sparrows chirped, flying from one window to another, and the noise of their wings and the ringing of bells sometimes drowned out the service...
“As long as a person is boiling vitality, - thought Alexander, - while desires and passions play, he is sensually busy, he flees that soothing, important and solemn contemplation to which religion leads... he comes to seek consolation in it with faded, wasted forces, with crushed hopes, with the burden of years ..."
Little by little, at the sight of familiar objects, memories awakened in Alexander’s soul. He mentally ran through his childhood and youth before his trip to St. Petersburg; I remembered how, as a child, he repeated prayers after his mother, how she told him about the guardian angel, who stands guard over the human soul and is forever at enmity with the unclean; how she, pointing to the stars, said that these are the eyes of God's angels who look at the world and count the good and evil deeds of people, how the celestials cry when in the end there are more evil than good deeds, and how they rejoice when good deeds exceed the evil ones. Pointing to the blue of the distant horizon, she said that this was Zion... Alexander sighed, waking up from these memories.
"Oh! If only I could still believe in it! - he thought. - Infantile beliefs have been lost, but what have I learned new, true?.. nothing: I found doubts, rumors, theories... and even further from the truth than before... Why this split, this cleverness?.. God!.. when the warmth of faith is not warms hearts, is it possible to be happy? Am I happier?
The all-night vigil is over. Alexander arrived home even more bored than he had gone. Anna Pavlovna did not know what to do. One day he woke up earlier than usual and heard a rustling behind his headboard. He looked around: some old woman was standing over him and whispering. She immediately disappeared as soon as she saw that she had been noticed. Alexander found some kind of grass under his pillow; an amulet hung from his neck.
- What does it mean? - Alexander asked his mother, - who was the old woman in my room?
Anna Pavlovna was embarrassed.
“This is... Nikitishna,” she said.
-What Nikitishna?
- She, you see, is my friend... won’t you be angry?
- What is it? Tell.
- She... they say she helps many... She just whispers on the water and breathes on a sleeping person - everything will go away.
“In the third year, to the widow Sidorika,” said Agrafena, “a fiery serpent flew into the chimney at night...
Here Anna Pavlovna spat.
“Nikitishna,” Agrafena continued, “the snake spoke: it stopped flying...
- Well, what about Sidorikha? – Alexander asked.
– She gave birth: the child was so thin and black! died on the third day.
Alexander laughed, perhaps for the first time since arriving in the village.
-Where did you get it from? - he asked.
“Anton Ivanovich brought it,” answered Anna Pavlovna.
- You want to listen to this fool!
- Fool! Oh, Sashenka, what are you doing? isn't it a sin? Anton Ivanovich is a fool! How did your tongue turn around? Anton Ivanovich is a benefactor, our friend!
“Here, mamma, take the amulet and give it to our friend and benefactor: let him hang it around his neck.”
From then on, he began to lock himself in at night.
Two or three months have passed. Little by little, solitude, silence, home life and everything associated with it material goods helped Alexander enter the body. And laziness, carelessness and the absence of any moral shock established peace in his soul, which Alexander sought in vain in St. Petersburg. There, having fled from the world of ideas and arts, imprisoned in stone walls, he wanted to fall asleep like a mole, but he was constantly awakened by waves of envy and powerless desires. Every phenomenon in the world of science and art, every new celebrity awakened in him the question: “Why isn’t it me, why not me?” There, at every step, he encountered unfavorable comparisons in people... there he fell so often, there he saw his weaknesses as in a mirror... there was an inexorable uncle who persecuted his way of thinking, laziness and unfounded love of fame; there graceful world and a bunch of talents, among which he played no role. Finally, there they try to bring life under certain conditions, to clarify its dark and mysterious places, not allowing feelings, passions and dreams to run rampant and thereby depriving it of poetic allure, they want to give it some kind of boring, dry, monotonous and heavy form...
What a delight it is here! He is better, smarter than everyone! Here he is a universal idol for several miles around. Moreover, here at every step, in the face of nature, his soul opened up to peaceful, soothing impressions. The sound of streams, the whisper of leaves, the coolness and sometimes the very silence of nature - everything gave birth to thoughts and awakened feelings. In the garden, in the field, at home, memories of his childhood and youth visited him. Anna Pavlovna, sometimes sitting next to him, seemed to guess his thoughts. She helped him recall the little things in life that were dear to his heart, or told him something that he did not remember at all.
“These linden trees,” she said, pointing to the garden, “are planted by your father.” I was pregnant with you. I used to sit here on the balcony and look at him. He works and works and looks at me, and the sweat just pours from him like hail. "A! are you here? - he says, - it’s so fun for me to work! - and it will start again. And there is the meadow where you used to play with the children; he was so angry: if anything goes against you, you’ll scream swear words. One day Agashka - that’s what is now behind Kuzma, his third hut from the outskirts - somehow pushed you, and your nose bled and broke: my father flogged her, flogged her, I begged forcibly.
Alexander mentally supplemented these memories with others: “On this bench, under the tree,” he thought, “I sat with Sophia and was happy then. And over there, between two lilac bushes, I received my first kiss from her...” And all this was before my eyes. He smiled at these memories and sat for hours on end on the balcony, greeting or seeing off the sun, listening to the singing of birds, the splash of the lake and the buzz of invisible insects.
"My God! how nice it is here! - he said under the influence of these gentle impressions, - away from the bustle, from this petty life, from that anthill where people

...in heaps, behind the fence,
They don’t breathe the morning cool,
Not the spring smell of meadows

How tired you get of living there and how you rest your soul here, in this simple, uncomplicated, uncomplicated life! The heart is renewed, the chest breathes more freely, and the mind is not tormented by painful thoughts and endless analysis of legal matters with the heart: both are in harmony. There's nothing to think about. Carefree, without a painful thought, with a dormant heart and mind and with slight trepidation, you glide your gaze from grove to arable land, from arable land to hill, and then plunge it into the bottomless blue of the sky.”
Sometimes he moved to the window overlooking the courtyard and the street into the village. There is another picture, a Tenier painting, full of troublesome family life. The watchdog will stretch out in the kennel from the heat, putting his muzzle on his paws. Dozens of chickens greet the morning by clucking in bursts; roosters fight. A herd is being driven down the street into a field. Sometimes one cow, lagging behind the herd, moos sadly, standing in the middle of the street and looking around in all directions. Men and women, with rakes and scythes on their shoulders, go to work. From time to time the wind will snatch two or three words from their conversation and carry them to the window. There, a peasant cart will thunder across the bridge, followed by a cart lazily crawling with hay. Blonde and coarse-haired children, lifting up their shirts, wander through the puddles. Looking at this picture, Alexander began to comprehend the poetry of the gray sky, the broken fence, the gate, the dirty pond and the trepak. He replaced the narrow, smart tailcoat with a wide robe homework. And in every occurrence of this peaceful life, in every impression of the morning, and evening, and meal, and rest, the watchful eye of maternal love was present.
She could not get enough of watching how Alexander grew plump, how the color returned to his cheeks, how his eyes were enlivened by a peaceful sparkle. “Only the hairs don’t grow,” she said, “but they were like silk.”
Alexander often walked around the neighborhood. One day he met a crowd of women and girls going into the forest to pick mushrooms, joined them and walked around all day. Returning home, he praised the girl Masha for her agility and dexterity, and Masha was taken into the yard to follow the master. He sometimes went to see field work and learned from experience what he often wrote about and translated for the magazine. “How often we lied there...” he thought, shaking his head, and began to delve into the matter deeper and more closely.
Once, in inclement weather, he tried to get down to business, sat down to write and was pleased with the start of his work. I needed some kind of book for reference: he wrote to St. Petersburg, the book was sent. He did it in earnest. I ordered more books. It was in vain that Anna Pavlovna tried to persuade him not to write, so as not to hurt his breast: he did not want to listen. She sent Anton Ivanovich. Alexander did not listen to him either and wrote everything. When three to four months passed, and he not only did not lose weight from writing, but gained more weight, Anna Pavlovna calmed down.
So a year and a half passed. Everything would be fine, but by the end of this period Alexander began to think again. He didn’t have any desires, and whatever desires he had, it was no wonder they were satisfied: they did not go beyond the boundaries of family life. Nothing bothered him: neither care nor doubt, but he was bored! Little by little he grew tired of his close home circle; pleasing his mother became tiresome, and Anton Ivanovich became disgusted; He was tired of work, and nature did not captivate him.
He sat silently by the window and already looked indifferently at his father's linden trees and listened with annoyance to the splash of the lake. He began to think about the reason for this new melancholy and discovered that he was bored - about St. Petersburg?! Moving away from the past, he began to regret it. The blood was still boiling in him, his heart was beating, his soul and body were asking for activity... Again a task. My God! he almost cried at this discovery. He thought that this boredom would pass, that he would settle down in the village, get used to it - no: the longer he lived there, the more his heart ached and again asked to go into the pool, now familiar to him.
He made peace with the past: it became sweet to him. Hatred, a gloomy look, gloominess, unsociability were softened by solitude and reflection. The past appeared to him in a purified light, and the traitor Nadenka herself was almost in the rays. “What am I doing here? - he said with annoyance, - why am I withering? Why are my talents extinguished? Why shouldn’t I shine there with my work?.. Now I have become more reasonable. Why is my uncle better than me? Can't I find my way? Well, it hasn’t been possible so far, I didn’t take on my own – well? I’ve come to my senses now: it’s time, it’s time! But how my departure will upset my mother! Meanwhile, you have to go: you can’t die here! There, one and the other - they all came out into the public... And my career, and my fortune?.. I was the only one lagging behind... but why? why not?” He was tossed about with melancholy and did not know how to tell his mother about his intention to go.
But his mother soon saved him from this labor: she died. Here, finally, is what he wrote to his uncle and aunt in St. Petersburg.
To my aunt:

“Before my departure from St. Petersburg, you, ma tante, with tears in your eyes, admonished me with precious words that were engraved in my memory. You said: “If I ever need warm friendship, sincere participation, then there will always be a corner for me in your heart.” The moment came when I realized the full value of these words. The rights that you so generously gave me over your heart contain for me the guarantee of peace, silence, consolation, tranquility, and perhaps the happiness of my entire life. About three months ago my mother died: I won’t add another word. You know from her letters that she was for me, and you will understand what I lost in her... I am now running away from here forever. But where, a lonely wanderer, would I direct my path if not to the places where you are?.. Say one word: will I find in you what I left a year and a half ago? Have you banished me from your memory? Will you agree to the boring task of healing, with your friendship, which has already saved me from grief more than once, a new and deep wound? I place all my hope in you and another powerful ally – activity.
You are surprised - aren't you? Is it strange for you to hear this from me? read these lines, written in a calm, unusual tone? Do not be surprised and do not be afraid of my return: not a madman, not a dreamer, not a disappointed person, not a provincial will come to you, but just a person, of which there are many in St. Petersburg and no matter how long ago I should have been. Warn your uncle especially about this. When I look at past life, I feel embarrassed, ashamed of both others and myself. But it couldn’t be otherwise. That's when I just woke up - at thirty years old! The hard school I went through in St. Petersburg and reflection in the village completely clarified my fate to me. Retiring at a respectful distance from his uncle's lessons and own experience, I understood them here, in silence, more clearly, and I see what they should have led me to long ago, I see how pitifully and unreasonably I shied away from my direct goal. I am now at peace: I am not tormented, I am not tormented, but I do not boast about it; Perhaps this calmness still stems from selfishness; I feel, however, that soon my outlook on life will become clearer to the point that I will discover another source of peace - a purer one. Now I still cannot help but regret that I have already reached the point where - alas! – youth ends and the time of reflection begins, the checking and dismantling of all excitement, the time of consciousness.
Although, perhaps, my opinion about people and life has changed a little, but many hopes have flown away, many desires have passed, in a word, illusions have been lost; therefore, you won’t have to make mistakes and be deceived in many and not many ways, and this is very comforting on the one hand! And now I look ahead more clearly: the hardest part is behind me; the unrest is not terrible, because there are few of them left; the most important ones have been completed, and I bless them. I am ashamed to remember how, imagining myself as a sufferer, I cursed my lot, my life. Cursed! what pathetic childishness and ingratitude! How late I saw that suffering cleanses the soul, that they alone make a person bearable both for himself and for others, and elevate him... I admit now that not to be involved in suffering means not to be involved in the fullness of life: there is a lot in them important conditions, for which we may not wait for permission here. I see in these unrest the hand of Providence, which seems to give a person an endless task - to strive forward, to achieve a predetermined goal, while constantly struggling with deceptive hopes and painful obstacles. Yes, I see how necessary this struggle and unrest is for life, how life without them would not be life, but stagnation, a dream... The struggle ends, and you see, life also ends; the person was busy, loved, enjoyed, suffered, worried, did his job and, therefore, lived!
You see, how I reason: I came out of the darkness - and I see that everything I have lived so far has been some kind of difficult preparation for the real path, a sophisticated science for life. Something tells me that the rest of the path will be easier, quieter, clearer... Dark places were illuminated, tricky knots untied by themselves; life begins to seem good, not evil. I’ll say it again soon: how good life is! but I will say this not as a young man, intoxicated with momentary pleasure, but with full consciousness of its true pleasures and bitterness. Then death is not scary either: it does not seem like a scarecrow, but a wonderful experience. And now an unknown calmness breathes into the soul: childish annoyances, flashes of pricked pride, childish irritability and comical anger at the world and people, similar to the anger of a pug at an elephant - as if it had never happened.
I became friends again, with whom I had become friends a long time ago - with people who, I note in passing, are the same here as in St. Petersburg, only tougher, ruder, funnier. But I’m not angry with them here, and I won’t be angry there either. Here is an example of my meekness: the eccentric Anton Ivanovich comes to visit us, supposedly sharing my grief; tomorrow he will go to a neighbor’s wedding to share the joy, and then to someone else to fill the position of midwife. But neither grief nor joy prevent him from eating four times a day. I see that he doesn’t care whether a person died, or was born, or got married, and I don’t feel disgusted by looking at him, I’m not annoyed... I tolerate him, I don’t drive him out... That’s a good sign, isn’t it, ma tante? What do you say after reading this word of praise to yourself?”

“Dearest, kindest uncle and, at the same time, your Excellency!
With what joy I learned that your career has been accomplished admirably; You’ve gotten along with fortune a long time ago! You are an actual state councilor, you are the director of the office! Do I dare remind your Excellency of the promise given to me upon departure: “When you need service, classes or money, contact me,” you said. And so I needed both service and classes; Of course, you will also need money. A poor provincial dares to ask for space and work. What fate awaits my request? Isn’t it the same as the one that once befell Zaezzhalov’s letter, who asked him to take care of his business?.. As for creativity, which you had the cruelty to mention in one of your letters, then... isn’t it a sin for you to disturb long-forgotten nonsense when I myself am blushing? for them?.. Eh, uncle, eh, Your Excellency! Who hasn't been young and somewhat stupid? Who hasn't had some strange, so-called cherished dream, which is never destined to come true? My neighbor, on the right, imagined himself to be a hero, a giant - a hunter before the Lord... he wanted to amaze the world with his exploits... and it ended with him retiring as an ensign, having not been in war, and peacefully growing potatoes and sowing turnips. The other one, on the left, dreamed of remaking the whole world and Russia in his own way, but he himself, after writing papers in the ward for some time, retired here and still cannot remake the old fence. I thought that a creative gift had been invested in me from above, and I wanted to tell the world new, unknown secrets, not suspecting that these were no longer secrets and that I was not a prophet. We are all funny; but tell me, who, without blushing for himself, will dare to brand these youthful, noble, ardent, albeit not entirely moderate dreams with shameful abuse? Who has not, in turn, nourished a fruitless desire, who has not set himself up as a hero of a valiant deed, a solemn song, a loud narrative? Whose imagination did not wander to the fabulous, heroic times? who has not cried, sympathizing with the lofty and beautiful? If there is such a person, let him throw a stone at me - I do not envy him. I blush for my youthful dreams, but I honor them: they are a guarantee of purity of heart, a sign of a noble soul disposed to goodness.
I know you will not be convinced by these arguments: you need a positive, practical argument; if you please, here it is: tell me, how would talents be recognized and cultivated if young people suppressed these early inclinations in themselves, if they did not give free rein and space to their dreams, but slavishly followed the indicated direction, without trying their strength? Finally, isn't it common law nature, that youth should be restless, ebullient, sometimes extravagant, stupid, and that everyone’s dreams will subside over time, as they have now subsided for me? Is your own youth alien to these sins? Remember, rummage through your memory. I see from here how you, with your calm, never embarrassed gaze, shake your head and say: there is nothing! Let me convict you, for example, of at least love... do you renounce? you will not deny: the evidence is in my hands... Remember that I could investigate the case at the scene of the action. Theater of yours love affairs before my eyes is a lake. Yellow flowers still grow on it; one, having dried properly, I have the honor to forward to your Excellency, for a sweet memory. But there is a more terrible weapon against your persecution of love in general and mine in particular - this is a document... Are you frowning? and what a document!!! turned pale? I stole this precious dilapidation from my aunt, from an equally dilapidated chest, and am taking it with me as eternal evidence against you and as protection for myself. Tremble, uncle! Moreover, I know in detail the whole story of your love: my aunt tells me every day, at morning tea and at dinner, before bed, interesting fact, and I am putting all this precious material into a special memoir. I will not fail to present it to you personally, along with my works on the Agriculture, which I have been doing here for a year now. For my part, I consider it my duty to assure my aunt of the unchangeability of your feelings for her, as she says. When I am honored to receive from your Excellency a favorable answer, at my request, I will have the honor to appear to you, with an offering of dried raspberries and honey and with the presentation of several letters that my neighbors promise to supply me with for their needs, except for Zaezzhalov, who died before the end of his process".

Anton Ivanovich widened his eyes.

- What you! - he said, - and everyone eats?

- They eat everything!

– At least take a look: it’s not our way! What do they eat?

- Well, sir, there’s nothing to see! You won’t know what you’re eating: the Germans will put God knows what in the food: you won’t even want to put it in your mouth. And their pepper is not like that; they add something from overseas bottles to the sauce... Once Pyotr Ivanovich’s cook treated me to the master’s dish, I felt sick for three days. I saw an olive in the dish: I thought, like there is an olive here; I figured it out - lo and behold: there’s a small fish; I felt disgusted and spat it out; took another - and the same thing happened there; yes in all... oh, damn you!..

- How come they put it there on purpose?

- God knows! I asked: the guys laugh, they say: so, listen, they will be born. And what kind of food? First, the hot dish will be served, properly, with pies, but only pies the size of a thimble; suddenly you put six of them in your mouth, you want to chew, you look - they’re not there, and they’ve melted... After the hot one, they’ll suddenly give you something sweet, there’s beef, and there’s ice cream, and there’s some kind of herb, and there’s roast... and not I would eat!

- So your stove wasn’t lit? Well, how not to lose weight! - said Anton Ivanovich, getting up from the table.

“I thank you, my God,” he began out loud, with a deep sigh, “for you have filled me with heavenly blessings... what am I! “My tongue began to grind: earthly blessings, and do not deprive me of your heavenly kingdom.”

- Clear the table: the gentlemen will not eat. Have another pig ready this evening...or turkey? Alexander Fedorych loves turkey; He, tea, will get hungry. Now bring me some fresh hay to the sunroom: I’ll breathe for an hour or two; Wake me up there for tea. If Alexander Fedorych moves a little, then... push me away.

Rising from sleep, he came to Anna Pavlovna.

- Well, Anton Ivanovich? – she asked.

- Nothing, mother, I humbly thank you for the bread and the salt... and I fell asleep so sweetly; the hay is so fresh, fragrant...

- Cheers, Anton Ivanovich. Well, what does Yevsey say? Did you ask?

- How not to ask! I found out everything: empty! everything will get better. The whole point, it turns out, is because the food there was, listen, bad.

- Yes; Judge for yourself: cucumbers are forty kopecks, ten kopecks, a pig is two rubles, and the food is all confectionery - and you won’t get your fill. How not to lose weight! Don’t worry, mother, we will get him back on his feet here and cure him. You tell me to prepare more birch tincture; I'll give you the recipe; I got it from Prokofy Astafich; Yes, morning and evening, and give a glass or two, and before dinner it’s good; maybe with holy water... do you have it?

- Yes, yes: you brought it.

- Yes, indeed, I am. Choose richer foods. I already ordered a pig or turkey to be roasted for dinner.

- Thank you, Anton Ivanovich.

- No way, mother! Should I order some more chicken with white sauce?

- I command...

- Why do you need it yourself? and what do I need? I'll bother... give it to me.

- Help me, my dear father.

He left, and she thought.

Women's instinct and her mother's heart told her that food was not the main reason for Alexander's thoughtfulness. She began to skillfully find out through hints, sideways, but Alexander did not understand these hints and remained silent. Two or three weeks passed like this. A lot of piglets, chickens and turkeys went to Anton Ivanovich, but Alexander was still thoughtful, thin, and his hair did not grow.

Then Anna Pavlovna decided to talk to him directly.

“Listen, my friend, Sashenka,” she said one day, “you’ve been living here for about a month, and I haven’t seen you smile even once: you walk like a cloud, looking at the ground.” Or is nothing nice to you on your native side? Apparently, someone else’s is nicer; Do you miss her, or what? My heart breaks, looking at you. What happened to you? Tell me: what are you missing? I won't regret anything. Has anyone offended you: I will get to that.

“Don’t worry, mummy,” said Alexander, “it’s just that, nothing!” I entered into years, became more reasonable, and that’s why I’m thoughtful...

- Why is it worse? where's the hair?

“I can’t tell you why... you can’t tell everything about what happened at eight years old... maybe my health was a little upset...

- Why does it hurt you?

“It hurts both here and here.” – He pointed to the head and heart. Anna Pavlovna touched his forehead with her hand.

“There’s no fever,” she said. - What would that be? shoots you in the head?

- No... so...

- Sashenka! Let's send for Ivan Andreich.

-Who is Ivan Andreich?

– New doctor; I arrived two years ago. Doc is like, what a miracle! Prescribes almost no medications; He makes some tiny grains himself - and they help. Over there, Thomas was suffering from stomach pain; He roared for three days: he gave him three grains, as if it was a breeze! Get treatment, darling!

- No, mamma, he won’t help me: it will pass like that.

- Why are you bored? What kind of misfortune is this?

-What do you want?

- I don’t know either; I miss you so much.

- What a miracle, Lord! - said Anna Pavlovna. - You say you like the food, there are all the amenities, and the rank is good... what, it seems? and you miss it! Sashenka,” she said after a pause, quietly, “isn’t it time for you... to get married?”

- What do you! no, I'm not getting married.

“And I have a girl in mind—like a doll: pink, delicate; This is how the cerebellum seems to flow from bone to bone. The waist is so thin and slender; I studied in the city, at a boarding school. Behind her are seventy-five souls and twenty-five thousand in money, and a glorious dowry: they made it in Moscow; and good relatives... Eh? Sashenka? I already got into a conversation with my mother over coffee, and jokingly dropped the word: it seems that her ears are on top of her head with joy...

“I’m not getting married,” Alexander repeated.

- More than ever?

- Never.

- Lord have mercy! what will come of this? All people are like people, only God knows who you are like! And what a joy it would be for me! God would bring his grandchildren to nurse. Really, marry her; you will love her...

“I won’t love you, mamma: I’ve already fallen out of love.”

- How did you fall out of love without getting married? Who did you love there?

- A girl.

- Why didn’t you get married?

- She cheated on me.

- How did you change? You weren't married to her yet, were you?

Alexander was silent.

“Your girls are good there: they love you before marriage!” Changed it! such a bastard! Happiness was asking itself to be in her hands, but she didn’t know how to appreciate it, the scoundrel! If I had seen her, I would have spit in her face. What was uncle watching? Who did she find better, I should have looked?.. Well, is she the only one? you'll love another time.

“I loved you another time too.”

- Who?

- Well, why didn’t you get married?

- I changed that one myself.

Anna Pavlovna looked at Alexander and did not know what to say.

“Changed!..” she repeated. - Apparently, she’s some kind of dissolute! – she added later. - Truly a whirlpool, God forgive me: they love before marriage, without a church ceremony; cheating... That this is done in this world, as you look! You know, the end of the world is soon!.. Well, tell me, don’t you want anything? Maybe the food is not to your taste? I will order a cook from the city...

- No, thank you: everything is fine.

“Maybe you’re bored alone: ​​I’ll send for the neighbors.”

- No no. Don't worry, mommy! I feel calm and good here; everything will pass... I haven’t looked around yet.

That's all that Anna Pavlovna could achieve.

“No,” she thought, “without God, apparently, not a single step.” She invited Alexander to go with her to mass in the nearest village, but he overslept twice, and she did not dare to wake him. Finally she called him in the evening to the all-night vigil. “Perhaps,” said Alexander, and they drove off. The mother entered the church and stood at the very choir, Alexander remained at the door.

The sun was already setting and cast indirect rays, which either played on the golden frames of the icons, or illuminated the dark and stern faces of the saints and destroyed with their brilliance the weak and timid flicker of the candles. The church was almost empty: the peasants were at work in the fields; only in the corner near the exit were several old women tied with white scarves crowded together. Others, saddened and resting their cheek on their hand, sat on the stone steps of the chapel and from time to time emitted loud and heavy sighs, God knows, whether about their sins, or about household matters. Others, crouching to the ground, lay prostrate for a long time, praying.

A fresh breeze rushed through the cast-iron grille into the window and either lifted the fabric on the throne, or played with the priest’s gray hair, or turned over the page of a book and put out a candle. The steps of the priest and sexton echoed loudly on the stone floor in the empty church; their voices echoed sadly through the vaults. Above, in the dome, jackdaws screamed sonorously and sparrows chirped, flying from one window to another, and the noise of their wings and the ringing of bells sometimes drowned out the service...

“While vital forces are boiling in a person,” thought Alexander, “while desires and passions are playing, he is sensually busy, he is running away from that soothing, important and solemn contemplation to which religion leads... he comes to seek consolation in it with extinguished, wasted forces, with crushed hopes, with the burden of years..."

Little by little, at the sight of familiar objects, memories awakened in Alexander’s soul. He mentally ran through his childhood and youth before his trip to St. Petersburg; I remembered how, as a child, he repeated prayers after his mother, how she repeated to him about the guardian angel who stands guard over the human soul and is forever at enmity with the unclean; how she, pointing to the stars, said that these are the eyes of God's angels who look at the world and count the good and evil deeds of people, how the celestials cry when in the end there are more evil than good deeds, and how they rejoice when good deeds exceed the evil ones. Pointing to the blue of the distant horizon, she said that this was Zion... Alexander sighed, waking up from these memories.

"Oh! If only I could still believe in it! - he thought. - Infantile beliefs have been lost, but what have I learned new, true?.. nothing: I found doubts, rumors, theories... and even further from the truth than before... Why this split, this cleverness?.. God!.. when the warmth of faith is not warms hearts, is it possible to be happy? Am I happier?

The all-night vigil is over. Alexander arrived home even more bored than he had gone. Anna Pavlovna did not know what to do. One day he woke up earlier than usual and heard a rustling behind his headboard. He looked around: some old woman was standing over him and whispering. She immediately disappeared as soon as she saw that she had been noticed. Alexander found some grass under his pillow; an amulet hung from his neck.

- What does it mean? - Alexander asked his mother, - who was the old woman in my room?

Anna Pavlovna was embarrassed.

“This is... Nikitishna,” she said.

-What Nikitishna?

- She, you see, is my friend... won’t you be angry?

- What is it? Tell.

- She... they say she helps many... She just whispers on the water and breathes on a sleeping person - everything will go away.

“In the third year, to the widow Sidorika,” said Agrafena, “a fiery serpent flew into the chimney at night...

Here Anna Pavlovna spat.

“Nikitishna,” Agrafena continued, “the snake spoke: it stopped flying...

The sun was already setting and cast indirect rays that either played on the golden frames of expensive paintings that hung on the wall, or illuminated the dark corners of the living room of the Mikaelson house. The doorbell rang interrupted the silence in the house.
- Klaus, what did I say about the feet on the coffee table? - Esther entered the living room and, without taking her eyes off the phone screen, she headed into the hallway. The woman had long studied her son’s habits. - It would be better if he opened the door. - The blonde remarked in a serious tone and disappeared behind the door.
“Yeah,” Niklaus retorted with indifference into the silence and continued to look at the phone screen, flipping through boring entries in social network, I didn’t care about my mother’s remark.
The friendly voice of a woman could be heard from the hallway; having invited the guest, she informed Rebecca that they had come to her and she herself went up to the second floor. Suddenly Gilbert appeared in the living room, the blonde did not move his gaze, continuing to look at the smartphone. She looked at him with the usual hostility, Elena herself was not at all surprised by this, and with confidence that he did not even notice the presence of another person in the living room, she decided that it would be better if she went up to her friend’s room, who was probably not at all ready and selects an outfit for tonight, spinning in front of the mirror.
“You’re so impolite, Gilbert,” the guy addressed the girl with notes of sarcasm and even contempt, causing her to flinch in surprise and wince. - I don’t understand why people think you’re good? - He spread his hands and rolled his eyes.
“But I didn’t come to you,” Elena retorted, she decided to go into the living room, curiosity got the better of the girl about what would happen next. She rubbed the tip of her nose with the back of her finger.
“Ugh,” Mikaelson pretended to be upset, “But in vain,” he fell silent for a couple of seconds, Elena listened carefully, “You and I would have had hot sex.” - A lewd smile appeared on his face and the guy winked at the girl. A second passed, and one of the pillows that were located on the sofa flew at him.
“Pervert,” hissed the brown-haired girl.
- Feel better? “The guy chuckled cheerfully at Elena, who had disappeared behind the door, but after a moment he felt that the empty and cold state that had been before that moment was returning to him.
Hearing the girls' loud laughter, Klaus trudged towards where it was coming from.
“Well, Elena, it’s time to have fun,” Rebecca babbled cheerfully, “Come on, the guys are already waiting for us.” - The guy heard part of their conversation, it was enough to understand that the girls were going to meet someone. His sister has been trying to set Elena up with guys for a long time, whenever the opportunity arises, and Nick was wondering who the choice was this time. And he also didn’t want to hang out at home for the last week of the holidays.
- And where are you going without me? - The girls cast a dissatisfied glance at the guy who left the living room.
“Where we won’t take you,” the blonde boldly retorted, pushing her friend to the exit.
- Why is that, little sister? “He didn’t let up, which made the guy’s sister roll her eyes with displeasure, probably because of his stupidity, as Elena thought, she involuntarily grinned at her thoughts.
- And remember where we ended up because of you, after the last party. - Irritably, the girl informed her brother, hinting at how they ended up at the police station. Klaus rubbed the back of his head and spread his arms to the sides, a la it doesn’t happen to anyone.
“Well, please,” he stretched out and folded his hands in front of him, begging them to take him with them, at that moment he really missed the halo above his head, “I will be an exemplary boy,” the guy assured the girls, although of course he is not going to fulfill his promise. Elena chuckled displeasedly.
“Okay,” the youngest Mikaelson gave up, she grabbed her head and thought. From her friend’s agreement to take this guy, Gilbert extended her front jaw in anger, crossed her arms over her chest and turned slightly sideways towards the blond, “But just stay away from us,” the blonde hissed, “We’ll be with the guys.”
“Okay,” the guy had a twinkle of curiosity in his eyes, which the girls didn’t notice. The guys left the house.

The bar was already noisy and crowded. Everyone was laughing, screaming, ordering drinks and just having a blast, plus some jazz band was playing today. And Niklaus sipped bourbon alone and carefully watched at the table opposite the bar. His best friend Stefan, as half an hour ago, promised to join their community to monitor their sisters. But he was never there, from which Nick sighed sadly and drank the contents in the glass in one gulp, asking the bartender to repeat, he again turned his gaze to the fifth table from the exit.
Those guys turned out to be Jack and Joe, Mikaelson realized that they were a little older than the girls, from which he promised himself that Rebecca would get because of a boyfriend older than her. He also noticed that Jack was meant for his sister, and Joe, of course, was meant for Elena. And if Jack was nothing else, he had an athletic build, a pretty face, and it was obvious that he could find contact with any person. Especially with the likes of Gilbert, judging by the way she bursts into ringing laughter, probably from another guy’s joke. Then his friend Joe was a sad primate, he sat timidly all the time, spoke little and simply grinned at his friend’s next jokes, it is assumed that he had heard them many times from his friend, probably on similar double dates. The guy noted the fact that Elena did not like this young man, this was judged by her gesture, she always crossed her arms on her chest, and when talking, turned a little sideways towards him, the girl always did this when she didn’t like someone. And Nick learned this in her a long time ago; this was not the first time he was present on the girls’ dates with Stefan, who seemed to be mocking his friend.
Then someone called Joe and he began to listen carefully to the person on the other end of the line. And then the guy got up from his chair, and, it seems, began to say goodbye to everyone, and Rebecca pushed Gilbert to follow him, and at that moment his friend, who had finally arrived, approached him. Mikaelson noticed the couple move towards the exit.
“I missed all the fun,” he turned to Stefan with a grin, he calmly looked at his friend and followed Klaus’s gaze to the bar, seeing Rebekah in the company of some guy, he grinned at Jack.
“Sorry, the car broke down,” the fair-haired guy sighed heavily, Nick waved his hand as a sign that it was nothing.
“I’ll be there now,” the blond man said, putting his glass on the bar counter with a mysterious smile on his face and walked towards the exit.
Fresh air hit his face from the slightly open door, the guy left the establishment. Elena and this Joe were standing on the street, having a nice conversation? Michaelson winced from this euphoria and lit a cigarette and began to greedily inhale nicotine. He drew attention to starry sky and sighed carefree, flicking the ash off his cigarette.
Having hugged Elena and said goodbye, the guy got into the taxi that arrived. Mikaelson had a suspicious smile on his face, apparently the guy was up to something. The girl thought that she should go back inside the bar and, seeing Mikaelson, decided to pass by.
- You have bad taste, Gilbert. - He said in a casual tone, thereby stopping her.
- Well, not everyone should pay attention to you, Mikaelson. - Elena retorted, looking at the guy with an unpleasant look.
- Why am I bad? - Nick was indignant.
- You are too arrogant, I hope the meaning of this word is clear? - The brown-haired woman mocked.
- You’re a fool, I’m silent. - He shrugged, Gipbert was indignant.
- Humlo. - She retorted.
“Hysterical, all of you women are crazy,” he twisted index finger at his temple and threw away the cigarette, at that moment Stefan, Rebecca and Jack came out into the street. The new acquaintance said goodbye to Elena, who had been irritated for a long time, but to Mikaelson’s surprise, she left her “bye” calmly. Becky's boyfriend walked up the street. Elena turned her gaze to Nick, lights lit up in her eyes with hints of anger, she returned to the conversation:
- And you guys only think about one thing, how to get another girl into bed, and consider those who refused to be “moved.” - The girl made quotation marks with her fingers and made a dissatisfied face. Stefan stood next to Klaus, and the youngest Mikaelson stood opposite him, next to Gilbert.
“Yes, if there is nothing else to do with you, and you start a relationship, then everything is lost,” the blond spread his arms to the sides, now Rebecca was indignant, “Eat your brain with a teaspoon.”
Niklaus made funny gestures with his hands, pretending to eat something from cutlery. Stefan smirked and shook his head in agreement, crossing his arms over his chest, earning him an angry look from the girls.
“Yes, if you could appreciate,” Elena hissed, this time she was not going to back down, “Appreciating what we do for you would be all right.” - The blond raised his eyebrows.
- What are you doing? - He bent his hands at the level of his face, as if lifting something, a light with a hint of excitement had already lit up in his eyes, the young man clearly had no intention of retreating.
- That you can't. - The brown-haired woman barked slightly, causing her to glance down the street, making sure that no one was paying attention to it.
“Ha-ha,” the guy continued, “What can you do?”
Rebecca narrowed her gaze, one thought came to her bright head. After thinking for another second, she shouted in order to calm the two:
“Stop,” all three pairs of eyes looked at the blonde, “I have an idea, let’s make a bet?”
- Which? - Stefan became interested.
“We’ll switch places,” she looked at the guys, they were confused, the girl was sure that Elena would support her idea, “You will do the housework for us for a whole week, and we, in turn, will do the housework for you?” - she suggested, - Well, that is, fulfilling your eternal carefree life is not difficult. - This time the girl waved her hand.
The guys slyly glanced at each other. They understood without words what could await Elena the next day.
“Challenge accepted, bitches,” Klaus agreed. “I’m sure Gilbert won’t last a day.” - At that same second, thunder roared, causing the two girls to jump on the spot, and somewhere in the distance lightning flashed and it began to rain sharply.
- Nick, remind me that I have to give you a slap on the head for being a bitch. “The blonde said menacingly to her brother, and the guys hurried back to the bar.

Was already deep night. Having each arrived at their home, Elena and Klaus lay down exhausted on the bed, their heads aching a little from the alcohol they had drunk. In one second they began, falling into the kingdom of Morpheus, but before that they felt an incomprehensible state that they had not felt before. But citing alcohol, they fell asleep.

In the village he continued to lead the same nervous and restless life as in the city. He read and wrote a lot, studied Italian language and, while walking, I thought with pleasure that he would soon sit down to work again. He slept so little that everyone was surprised; if he accidentally falls asleep for half an hour during the day, then he doesn’t sleep all night and after sleepless night, as if nothing had happened, he feels cheerful and cheerful. He talked a lot, drank wine and smoked expensive cigars. Neighboring young ladies often came to the Pesotskys, almost every day, and together with Tanya they played the piano and sang; Sometimes a young man, a neighbor, who played the violin well, came. Kovrin listened to music and singing greedily and was exhausted by them, and the latter was expressed physically by his eyes drooping and his head tilting to the side. One day after evening tea he sat on the balcony and read. In the living room at this time Tanya, a soprano, one of the young ladies, a contralto, and a young man on the violin were practicing the famous Braga serenade. Kovrin listened to the words - they were Russian - and could not understand their meaning. Finally, leaving the book and listening carefully, he understood: the girl, sick with imagination, heard some mysterious sounds in the garden at night, so beautiful and strange that she had to recognize them as sacred harmony, which is incomprehensible to us mortals and therefore returned flies into the sky. Kovrin’s eyes began to close. He stood up and walked exhaustedly around the living room, then around the hall. When the singing stopped, he took Tanya by the arm and went out with her to the balcony. “I’ve been interested in one legend since this morning,” he said. “I don’t remember whether I read it from somewhere or heard it, but the legend is somehow strange, incongruous with anything.” To begin with, it is not very clear. A thousand years ago, a monk dressed in black was walking through the desert, somewhere in Syria or Arabia... Several miles from where he was walking, fishermen saw another black monk who was slowly moving along the surface of the lake . This second monk was a mirage. Now forget all the laws of optics, which the legend does not seem to recognize, and listen further. From the mirage came another mirage, then from another a third, so that the image of the black monk began to be endlessly transmitted from one layer of the atmosphere to another. He was seen now in Africa, now in Spain, now in India, now in the Far North... Finally, he left the confines of the earth's atmosphere and now wanders throughout the universe, still not finding himself in the conditions under which he could fade . Perhaps he is now seen somewhere on Mars or on some star of the Southern Cross. But, my dear, the very essence, the very crux of the legend is that exactly a thousand years after the monk walked through the desert, the mirage will again fall into earth's atmosphere and will appear to people. And as if this thousand years is already coming to an end... According to the meaning of the legend, we should wait for the black monk not today - tomorrow. “It’s a strange mirage,” said Tanya, who didn’t like the legend. “But the most surprising thing,” Kovrin laughed, “is that I just can’t remember where this legend came into my head.” Did you read it where? Heard? Or maybe I dreamed of a black monk? I swear to God I don't remember. But the legend occupies me. I've been thinking about her all day today. Having released Tanya to the guests, he left the house and walked thoughtfully around the flower beds. The sun was already setting. The flowers, because they had just been watered, emitted a damp, irritating smell. The house began to sing again, and from a distance the violin made the impression human voice. Kovrin, straining his thoughts to remember where he had heard or read the legend, walked slowly into the park and quietly reached the river. Along a path that ran along a steep bank past exposed roots, he went down to the water, disturbed the waders here, and scared away two ducks. Here and there on the gloomy pines there was still a gleam last rays the setting sun, but on the surface of the river it was already real evening. The carpet crossed the lavas to the other side. In front of him now lay a wide field, covered with young, not yet blooming rye. There is no human habitation, not a living soul in the distance, and it seems that the path, if you follow it, will lead to that same unknown mysterious place where the sun has just descended and where the evening dawn blazes so widely and majestically. “How spacious, free and quiet it is here! - thought Kovrin, walking along the path. “And it seems that the whole world is looking at me, hiding and waiting for me to understand it...” But then waves ran across the rye, and a light evening breeze gently touched him bare head. A minute later there was another gust of wind, but this time stronger—the rye rustled, and the dull murmur of pine trees was heard from behind. Kovrin stopped in amazement. On the horizon, like a whirlwind or a tornado, a tall black pillar rose from the ground to the sky. Its contours were unclear, but at the very first moment one could understand that it did not stand still, but was moving with terrible speed, moving exactly here, right at Kovrin, and the closer it moved, the smaller and clearer it became. Kovrin rushed to the side, into the rye, to give him way, and barely managed to do it... A monk in black clothes, with a gray head and black eyebrows, crossing his arms on his chest, rushed past... His bare feet did not touch the ground. Having already rushed three fathoms, he looked back at Kovrin, nodded his head and smiled at him affectionately and at the same time slyly. But what a pale, terribly pale, thin face! Starting to grow again, it flew across the river, silently hit the clay bank and pine trees and, passing through them, disappeared like smoke. “Well, you see...” muttered Kovrin. - So the legend is true. Without trying to explain to myself strange phenomenon, pleased with the fact that he was able to see so closely and so clearly not only the black clothes, but even the face and eyes of the monk, pleasantly excited, he returned home. People were walking peacefully in the park and in the garden, playing in the house, which means he was the only one who saw the monk. He really wanted to tell Tanya and Yegor Semyonich about everything, but he realized that they would probably consider his words to be nonsense, and this would frighten them; It's better to remain silent. He laughed loudly, sang, danced the mazurka, he was having fun, and everyone, the guests and Tanya, found that today his face was somehow special, radiant, inspired, and that he was very interesting.

activities, hobbies.

It has long been noted that the room in which a person lives reflects his personality, character, biography, inclinations, and tastes. In this office, unexpected objects came together, both individually and in combination.

A photograph of the supersonic giant Tu-114 taking off with a warm inscription to the owner of the house from the crew... Portraits of Hemingway, Gagarin, American astronauts. Masks and figurines of many peoples of the world. The Moroccan and Egyptian orders are rare, exotic awards. A photograph of the owner of the house with eyebrows and eyelashes frosted over from the polar cold. Color image of the legendary papyrus ship "Ra", on which Thor Heyerdahl and his crew made their famous voyages.

In a word, the owner of the house is called Yuri Aleksandrovich Senkevich. Yes, this is the same Senkevich - the chairman of the television “Film Travelers Club”.

P.S. The answer should be 5-7 sentences. Only good, detailed ones. I will mark the best solution!

1) what words should not be used in a business letter? a) authority b) terrible c) recently d) claim 2) young poet

dreams of dedicating a poem to Anna Akhmatova and so that the words to Anna Akhmatova are necessarily present in one of the lines. poetic meters could be suitable for making the dream of a young poet come true?

c) dactyl

d) amphibrachium

d) anapaest

3) the snow is still white in the fields,

and the waters are already noisy in the spring -

they run and wake up the sleepy breg,

they run and shine and shout...

they say all over the place:

spring is coming, spring is coming!

We are well done, messengers of spring,

She sent us ahead!

these lines:

a) written by Apollo Maisky

b) written in iambic

4) mark the words with 2 prefixes:

a) go crazy

b) tear

c) provide

d) retake

d) to quarrel

5) mark the sentences with errors in the declension of numerals:

a) an ordinary tailor can easily cope with five hundred and sixty-seven flies

b) the brave tailor was not afraid of eight hundred and sixty flies

c) if the brave tailor is angered, then physical violence will threaten nine hundred and ninety-eight flies