VINTAGE VEILS : 'What Vasya?' asked Fedya. 'Why, the one who was drowned,' replied Kostya,' in this very river. Ah, what a boy he was! What a boy he was! His mother, Feklista, how she loved him, her Vasya! And she seemed to have a foreboding, Feklista did, that harm would come to him from the water. Sometimes, when Vasya went with us boys in the summer to bathe in the river, she used to be trembling all over. The other women did not mind; they passed by with the pails, and went on, but vintage veils put her pail down on the ground, and set to calling him, 'Come back, come back, my little joy; come back, my darling!' And no one knows how he was drowned. He was playing on the bank, and his mother was there haymaking; suddenly she hears, as
VINTAGE VEILS : though some one was blowing bubbles through the water, and behold! there was only Vasya's little cap to be seen swimming on the water. You know since then Feklista has not been right in her mind: she goes and lies down at the place where he was drowned; she lies down, brothers, and sings a song--you remember Vasya was always singing a song like that--so she sings it too, and weeps and weeps, and bitterly rails against God.' 'Here is Pavlusha coming,' said Fedya. Pavel came up to the fire with a full pot in his hand. 'Boys,' he began, after a short silence, 'something bad happened.' 'Oh, what?' asked Kostya hurriedly. 'I heard Vasya's voice.' They all seemed to vintage veils 'What do you mean? what do you mean?' stammered Kostya. 'I don't know. Only I went to stoop down to the water; suddenly I hear
VINTAGE VEILS : my name called in Vasya's voice, as though it came from below water: "Pavlusha, Pavlusha, come here." I came away. But I fetched the water, though.' 'Ah, God have mercy upon us!' said the boys, crossing themselves. 'It was the water-spirit calling you, Pavel,' said Fedya; 'we were just talking of Vasya.' 'Ah, it's a bad omen,' said Ilyusha, deliberately. 'Well, never mind, don't bother about it,' Pavel declared stoutly, and he sat down again; 'no one can escape his fate.' The boys were still. It was clear that Pavel's words had produced a strong impression on them. They began to lie down before the fire as though preparing vintage veils go to sleep. 'What is that?' asked Kostya, suddenly lifting his head. Pavel listened. 'It's the curlews flying and whistling.' 'Where are they flying to?'
VINTAGE VEILS : 'To a land where, they say, there is no winter.' 'But is there such a land?' 'Yes.' 'Is it far away?' 'Far, far away, beyond the warm seas.' Kostya sighed and shut his eyes. More than three hours had passed since I first came across the boys. The moon at last had risen; I did not notice it at first; it was such a tiny crescent. This moonless night was as solemn and hushed as it had been at first.... But already many stars, that not long before vintage veils been high up in the heavens, were setting over the earth's dark rim; everything around was perfectly still, as it is only still towards morning; all was sleeping the deep unbroken sleep that comes before daybreak. Already the fragrance in the air was fainter; once more a dew
VINTAGE VEILS : seemed falling.... How short are nights in summer!... The boys' talk died down when the fires did. The dogs even were dozing; the horses, so far as I could make out, in the hardly-perceptible, faintly shining light of the stars, were asleep with downcast heads.... I fell into a state of weary unconsciousness, which passed vintage veils sleep. A fresh breeze passed over my face. I opened my eyes; the morning was beginning. The dawn had not yet flushed the sky, but already it was growing light in the east. Everything had become visible, though dimly visible, around. The pale grey sky was growing light and cold and bluish; the stars twinkled with a dimmer light, or disappeared; the earth was wet, the leaves covered with dew, and from the distance came sounds of life and voices, and a light morning breeze went fluttering
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