QUINCEANERA TIARAS : course.' To this Sofron made no reply; he merely stroked his beard. 'And now it would be as well to ride down to the copse,' observed Mr. Pyenotchkin. Saddle-horses were led out to us at once; we quinceanera tiaras off to the copse, or, as they call it about us, the 'enclosure.' In this 'enclosure' we found thick undergrowth and abundance of wild game, for which Arkady Pavlitch applauded Sofron and clapped him on the shoulder. In regard to forestry, Arkady Pavlitch clung to the Russian ideas, and told me on that subject an amusing--in his words--anecdote, of how a jocose landowner had given his forester a good lesson by pulling out nearly half his beard, by way of a proof that growth is none the thicker for being cut back. In other matters, however, neither Sofron
QUINCEANERA TIARAS : nor Arkady Pavlitch objected to innovations. On our return to the village, the agent took us to look at a winnowing machine he had recently ordered from Moscow. The winnowing machine did certainly work beautifully, but if Sofron had known what a disagreeable incident was in store for him and his master on this last excursion, he would doubtless have stopped at home with us. This was what happened. As we came out of the barn the following spectacle confronted us. A few paces from the door, near a filthy pool, in which three ducks quinceanera tiaras splashing unconcernedly, there stood two peasants--one an old man of sixty, the other, a lad of twenty--both in patched homespun shirts, barefoot, and with cord tied round their waists for belts. The village constable Fedosyitch was busily engaged
QUINCEANERA TIARAS : with them, and would probably have succeeded in inducing them to retire if we had lingered a little longer in the barn, but catching sight of us, he grew stiff all over, and seemed bereft of all sensation on the spot. Close by stood the bailiff gaping, his fists hanging irresolute. Arkady Pavlitch frowned, bit quinceanera tiaras lip, and went up to the suppliants. They both prostrated themselves at his feet in silence. 'What do you want? What are you asking about?' he inquired in a stern voice, a little through his nose. (The peasants glanced at one another, and did not utter a syllable, only blinked a little as if the sun were in their faces, and their breathing came quicker.) 'Well, what is it?' Arkady Pavlitch said again; and turning at once to
QUINCEANERA TIARAS : Sofron, 'Of what family?' 'The Tobolyev family,' the agent answered slowly. 'Well, what do you want?' Mr. Pyenotchkin said again; 'have you lost your tongues, or what? Tell me, you, what is it you want?' he added, with a nod at the old man. 'And don't be afraid, stupid.' The old man craned forward his dark brown, wrinkled neck, opened his bluish twitching lips, and in a hoarse voice uttered the words, 'Protect us, lord!' and again he bent his forehead to the earth. The young peasant prostrated himself too. Arkady Pavlitch looked at their bent necks with an air of dignity, threw back his quinceanera tiaras and stood with his legs rather wide apart. 'What is it? Whom do you complain of?' 'Have mercy, lord! Let us breathe.... We are crushed, worried, tormented to death quite. (The old man spoke with difficulty.)
QUINCEANERA TIARAS : 'Who worries you?' 'Sofron Yakovlitch, your honour.' Arkady Pavlitch was silent a minute. 'What's your name?' 'Antip, your honour.' 'And who's this?' 'My boy, your honour.' Arkady Pavlitch was silent again; he pulled his moustaches. 'Well! and how has he tormented you?' he began again, looking over his moustaches at the old quinceanera tiaras 'Your honour, he has ruined us utterly. Two sons, your honour, he's sent for recruits out of turn, and now he is taking the third also. Yesterday, your honour, our last cow was taken from the yard, and my old wife was beaten by his worship here: that is all the pity he has for us!' (He pointed to the bailiff.) 'Hm!' commented Arkady Pavlitch. 'Let him not destroy us to the end, gracious protector!' Mr. Pyenotchkin scowled, 'What's the meaning of this?' he asked the
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