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