Father of Six 
 
 nOTAUEHR 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 PSEUDONYM LIBRARY
 
 THE 
 
 PSEUDONYM LIBRARY. 
 
 Paper, 1/6 ; cloth, 2/-. 
 t. MADEMOISELLE IXE. 
 
 2. STORY OF ELEANOR 
 LAMBERT. 
 
 .3. MYSTERY OF THE CAM- 
 PAGNA. 
 
 4. THE SCHOOL OF ART. 
 
 5. AMARYLLIS. 
 
 6. THE HOTEL D'ANGLE- 
 
 TERRE. 
 
 7. A RUSSIAN PRIEST. 
 
 8. SOME EMOTIONS AND 
 
 A MORAL. 
 
 9. EUROPEAN RELA- 
 
 TIONS. 
 
 10. JOHN SHERMAN. 
 
 11. THROUGH THE RED- 
 
 LITTEN WINDOWS. 
 
 12.GREEN TEA: A Love 
 Story. 
 
 13. HEAVY LADEN. 
 
 14. MAKAR'S DREAM. 
 
 15. A NEW ENGLAND CAC- 
 
 TUS. 
 
 16. THE HERB OF LOVE. 
 
 17. THE GENERAL'S 
 
 DAUGHTER. 
 
 18. THE SAGHALIEN CON- 
 
 VICT. 
 
 19. GENTLEMAN UPCOTT'S 
 
 DAUGHTER. 
 
 20. A SPLENDID COUSIN. 
 31. COLETTE. 
 
 22. OTTILIE. 
 
 23. A STUDY IN TEMPTA- 
 
 TIONS. 
 
 24. THE CRUISE OF THE 
 
 "WILD DUCK." 
 
 25. SQUIRE HELLMAN. 
 
 26. A FATHER OF SIX.
 
 M. H. nOTAIIEHKO 
 
 A Father of Six 
 
 AND 
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL 
 
 W. GAUSSEN, B.A. 
 
 * 
 
 LONDON 
 T. FISHER UNWIN 
 
 PATERNOSTER SQUARE 
 M DCCC XCIII
 
 COPYRIGHT. 
 All rights reserved.
 
 9RLF 
 URL 
 
 9t3Sfff 
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 " A H, martyr, long-suffering 
 l\ martyr that I am! God is 
 gracious to others. Look at the 
 deacon of Perekopski, for ex- 
 ample; the Lord was pleased to 
 call two of his children to Him- 
 self in one week. . . . Why, 
 what is the matter with you ? 
 Tell me." 
 
 " Nationka, Nationka, the Lord 
 have mercy on you ! what are 
 you saying ? It is a sin even to 
 think of such things, but to say 
 them . . ." 
 
 Nationka was lying huddled up 
 on a short, clumsy-looking sofa, 
 upholstered with green cotton 
 velvet with yellow spots. The 
 well-warmed room in which this 
 conversation was going on had a
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 low, somewhat sloping ceiling, 
 and little windows with uneven 
 panes of greenish glass, giving 
 the rays of light which penetrated 
 them a melancholy greyish tint ; 
 the atmosphere was stifling and 
 laden with smoke, but neverthe- 
 less, Nationka kept shivering and 
 drawing Father Anton's worn- 
 out beaver cassock more closely 
 around her. An indescribable 
 turmoil was going on in the 
 room, produced by six children, 
 the eldest of whom was seven 
 years old, and the youngest was 
 trying to crawl along the thread- 
 bare carpet which covered the 
 floor. The eldest child, Timoshka, 
 was playing at being a priest, and 
 was imitating the manners and 
 intonation of the incumbent of 
 the place, Father Pankratii, while 
 his brothers and sisters were sus- 
 taining the various parts of the 
 lesser clergy and the parishioners. 
 Somehow or other, the role of 
 tuitar, 1 which was being 
 
 1 Clerk.
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 played by the four-year-old boy, 
 Sasha, was unsuccessful, in con- 
 sequence of which he received a 
 severe box on the ear from the 
 little five-year-old villain, Vaska. 
 Sasha's elder sister, Marinka, a 
 girl of six years old, with a pale 
 face and thoughtful expression, 
 interceded on his behalf. Marinka 
 was in her turn attacked by Ti- 
 moshka, and a general uproar 
 ensued, and the various aggrieved 
 parties went for consolation to 
 the short sofa. Nationka, whose 
 head was splitting and bones 
 aching, had to get up every 
 minute and administer justice 
 and quell the disturbance. All 
 this, of course, worried and almost 
 distracted her. 
 
 Father Anton, in the mean- 
 while, remained seated at a small 
 table, his back turned to his wife 
 and family, leaning his body 
 heavily over the table, on which 
 his elbows were spread out, and 
 was busily engaged writing up the 
 parish register book. The arrival
 
 8 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 of the blagotshinii l was daily ex- 
 pected in the village, and this 
 dignitary might at any moment 
 express a wish to inspect the 
 parish register book, and Father 
 Anton had got behindhand with 
 his work in consequence of his 
 wife's illness. It was, moreover, 
 of vital importance for him that 
 the blagotshinii should find 
 everything in good order. 
 
 Father Anton was in a des- 
 perate hurry so much so, that 
 he left his wife shivering from 
 her feverish chill under his beaver 
 cassock without even asking 
 whereabouts her pain was, or 
 how she felt. 
 
 The church could be seen 
 through the little square win- 
 dow, and the space in front of 
 it, with a glimpse of the frozen 
 river beyond, whose surface was 
 covered with an even layer of 
 freshly-fallen snow glittering in 
 the sun. A peasant, dressed in 
 a patched cloak, a grey hat, and 
 
 1 Inspector or superintendent of 
 parishes for a district of the diocese.
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 high boots, was crossing the ice 
 on the river, carrying a bundle 
 of freshly-cut reeds. A miserable- 
 looking horse was walking easily 
 along the smooth road, and the 
 wooden runners of the sledge to 
 which it was harnessed, with 
 their ends curved upwards in 
 front, seemed to move along of 
 their own accord. 
 
 " You had better let the child- 
 ren go out, Nationka. Let them 
 play in the snow. The weather 
 is beautiful now," said . Father 
 Anton, continuing to write with- 
 out altering his position. 
 
 " Ah, yes, let them go out ! 
 Let the earth swallow them up ! 
 Anything for a moment's peace!" 
 exclaimed Nationka, in a suffering 
 tone of voice, flinging herself over 
 on the other side, with her face 
 towards the back of the sofa. 
 
 Father Anton shook his head 
 and remained silent. ' ' The Lord 
 have mercy on her! what words ! " 
 thought he. " It is her illness 
 that thus speaks; she herself 
 does not really think this. Na-
 
 IO A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 tionka is a good creature 
 
 Ah, poor thing ! " 
 
 And he then began to wonder 
 how Nationka could be cured of 
 the illness which had come upon 
 her] God knows how ! The 
 country surgeon had been to see 
 her, and given his opinion that 
 it was a fever. But this fever 
 had been going on for the last 
 two years. Nationka would go 
 about for three days or so, and 
 then take to her bed for perhaps 
 a week. Even when she was on 
 her feet, she was struggling all 
 the time against her illness, and 
 in great pain. She used to com- 
 plain of her chest and of pains in 
 her bones. The Lord only knew 
 what was the matter with her ! 
 Father Anton consulted a cer- 
 tain distinguished physician in 
 the neighbouring town. But 
 this physician could not come so 
 far as their village, he had not 
 time ; and it was far to the town 
 forty versts and therefore im- 
 possible to drag an invalid thither 
 during the winter time ; more-
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 over, it was impossible to per- 
 suade Nationka to do so. She 
 said it was nothing more than a 
 slight cold, which would pass off 
 when the spring came. The 
 country surgeon gave her quinine 
 powders, which did no good, and 
 only made her head ache. There 
 was also a peasant woman who 
 gave her certain roots and told 
 her to make an infusion of them, 
 and drink it every Monday and 
 Friday. This likewise did no 
 good. Perhaps when spring 
 came on, and the sun's rays 
 became warm, she would get 
 better. Then the children wor- 
 ried her a great deal ; when- 
 ever she wished to get to sleep, 
 they would come and torment 
 her. Thus it was that she would 
 forget herself, and say things 
 that it was not in her nature to 
 say. There was no one to re- 
 lieve her of her family duties. 
 Father Anton's sister was not 
 often with them. She stayed in 
 turn with her various brothers. 
 Ought she not to be sent for
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 now ? All their troubles arose 
 from poverty. The parish was a 
 poor one, besides which there 
 was properly speaking, no ap- 
 pointment for a deacon there. 
 Father Anton merely held the 
 place of diatchok, 1 and re- 
 ceived one-fifth of the revenues, 
 and had to live as best he 
 could. After eight years of mar- 
 ried life they had six children. 
 Father Anton was still only 
 twenty-eight, and his wife twenty- 
 six, so they might yet have 
 plenty more ; and the question 
 how they were all to be fed and 
 shod was becoming a pressing 
 one. A solution of the difficulty 
 would be found if only the bishop 
 would have mercy on him and 
 elevate him to the priesthood. 
 Nationka would then be able to 
 hire a woman to look after the 
 children, she would probably re- 
 cover her health, the children's 
 education could be undertaken, 
 and careers would be open to 
 
 1 Sub-deacon.
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 1 3 
 
 them ; at present they were de- 
 prived of learning, and nowa- 
 days a greater misfortune than 
 that cannot be imagined. If 
 only his lordship would have 
 mercy on him, all would be well. 
 
 A smartly-turned-out sledge of 
 town make, drawn by a pair of 
 horses, passed in front of the 
 little windows. Father Anton at 
 once recognised the sledge and 
 its occupant. 
 
 " H'm ! . . . Here is the blago- 
 tshinii. He has gone straight 
 to Father Pankratii's," added he 
 aloud. " And the register is not 
 written up. But perhaps he may 
 not ask to see it. I shall go and 
 find out if he has not some news 
 for me." 
 
 The deacon rose from the table, 
 and having carefully scattered 
 sand over his writing, poured it 
 back into a glass pot, closed the 
 book slowly, and placed it on a 
 shelf. 
 
 " Get ready, children, to go out. 
 You, Timoshka, dress Pelagii ; 
 Vaska and Axentka and Marinka
 
 14 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 will pull Sasha along in the little 
 sledge. Look sharp ! " 
 
 "But I fear that they will 
 upset Sasha ! " said Nationka, in 
 a feeble voice. 
 
 "Aha!" thought Father Anton, 
 " notwithstanding the dreadful 
 things she says, she is really afraid 
 of the children coming to grief." 
 
 *' Oh, no ; it's all right ; my 
 Marinka is such a clever girl ! 
 Don't you be anxious, Nationka; 
 I will arrange everything. Try 
 and get to sleep . . . and you 
 will be better in the evening." 
 
 Meanwhile the children had 
 stopped playing, and were busily 
 engaged dressing each other. 
 They were all glad to get out 
 into the bright sunshine and 
 sparkling snow, and expressed 
 their feelings with piteous 
 squeaks, mixed with ecstatic 
 cries. Three minutes later the 
 scene of the turmoil was trans- 
 ferred to the space in front of 
 the church. Snowballs were fly- 
 ing in various directions, and the 
 delight of Father Anton's pro-
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 1 5 
 
 geny knew no bounds, notwith- 
 standing their miserable clothes, 
 which were torn and patched in 
 all directions. 
 
 "How they are enjoying them- 
 selves!" exclaimed Father Anton, 
 looking out of the window as he 
 arrayed himself in his winter 
 cassock over his coat. 
 
 " Tell them not to go on the 
 ice ; there is a hole there ; they 
 are sure to fall into it," said 
 Nationka. 
 
 " Don't you trouble yourself, 
 my dear ; it will be all right. 
 Go to sleep, and you will wake 
 up much better. God grant that 
 the bishop may take pity on 
 us, and . . . eh? . . . our desire 
 . . . may be fulfilled. We shall 
 soon get things straight then. 
 You go to sleep, Nationka, and I 
 will run round to Father Pan- 
 kratii ; maybe that the blago- 
 tshinii will be able to tell me 
 something." 
 
 Father Anton stooped down and 
 kissed his wife on the forehead. 
 
 " Tell Maria to look after the
 
 1 6 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 children," added Nationka, fol- 
 lowing her husband with her 
 eyes. Father Anton went out 
 into the vestibule making an 
 affirmative sign with his hand, 
 and carefully closed the door 
 after him. He felt for the handle 
 of another door in the dark vesti- 
 bule, and opening it, looked into 
 a tiny kitchen, where Maria was 
 busy with her sleeves tucked up 
 preparing the soup. She was a 
 young, healthy-looking, red - 
 cheeked girl, with an unusually 
 lively, jolly-looking countenance. 
 Her father was a sad drunkard, 
 and, thanks to his brutality, her 
 mother was permanently laid up 
 with a broken leg, and their hut 
 was always cold and empty; but, 
 nevertheless, Maria was always 
 jolly, and sang all day long, and 
 there was not a youth in the 
 village who would pass her with- 
 out stopping to pinch her plump 
 arm, or pat her on the back with 
 the palm of his hand ; and she 
 would reply to this with a scream 
 and then burst out laughing. As
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. l^ 
 
 the deacon entered, Maria was 
 humming an air while she stirred 
 the soup. 
 
 " Look here, Maria, keep your 
 eyes on the children and see that 
 they do not go near the river," 
 said the deacon to her, adding in 
 a lower tone, " and if any of 
 them cry and get chilled, bring 
 them into the kitchen, and don't 
 let them go into the sitting-room. 
 The matoushka l is going to sleep. 
 Do you understand ? " 
 
 " Yes, I hear ; I am not deaf," 
 said Maria, grinning. 
 
 The deacon again went into 
 the vestibule, and feeling for a 
 third door-handle, went out into 
 the roadway. The road leading 
 to the church and the pathway 
 to Father Pankratii's house were 
 covered with a thick layer of 
 snow. The smooth surface was 
 only broken by the footmarks of 
 the children's feet and the two 
 parallel lines formed by the 
 
 1 The wives of the clergy are called by 
 this name, which means literally " little 
 mother."
 
 1 8 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 runners of the blagotshinii's 
 sledge, and the millions of tiny 
 crystals were glistening in thesun- 
 light. The frost was fairly severe, 
 butthesun'srays,piercingthrough 
 the frosty atmosphere, struck 
 pleasantly on the face and hands. 
 
 Father Anton plodded along 
 through the snow, and, turning 
 to the right, went straight to- 
 wards the incumbent's house. 
 
 Father Pankratii lived in the 
 church house which he himself 
 had constructed, and to do him 
 justice it must be mentioned 
 that he had built it well and 
 commodiously. Its external 
 architectural beauty was not 
 particularly striking, but it was 
 spacious, being more than twice 
 the height of any of the pea- 
 sants' huts; it had an iron 
 roof, and more remarkable still, 
 the house was built of stone, 
 whereas the other inhabitants of 
 the village dwelt in mud huts, 
 only a few of the richer members 
 of the community having edifices 
 constructed of yellow clay mixed
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 1 9 
 
 with straw. Adjoining the house 
 were all the necessary out-build- 
 ings stables, cattle-sheds, barns, 
 coachhouse and a whole dessya- 
 tine l of garden, most of which 
 was planted with cherry trees, 
 and also a few apple and pear 
 trees. This all stood on church 
 land that is, land set apart 
 by the community for the per- 
 petual benefit of the clergy 
 and the buildings were erected 
 with church money, that is to 
 say, with money subscribed by 
 these same parishioners some 
 fifteen years back, destined 
 originally for the benefit of all 
 the clergy ; but Father Pankratii 
 found that on account of his 
 large farming operations the 
 whole of this house and its 
 belongings would be suitable for 
 him only, and therefore left his 
 subordinates to hire huts, without, 
 however, forbidding them to con- 
 struct houses for themselves 
 should they care to do so. The 
 
 1 Dessyatine about 2^ acres.
 
 20 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 subordinates at first intended 
 to protest against this to the 
 authorities, but when they came 
 to take into consideration the 
 dozen huge stacks of corn and 
 four most enormous haystacks 
 standing in Father Pankratii's 
 yard, two partitions in his gran- 
 ary filled with last year's corn, 
 five strong, dashing horses, almost 
 a herd of cows, a thousand sheep, 
 a covered dilijan, l an ordinary 
 dilijan, not to mention a one- 
 horse shay taking all this into 
 consideration, and likewise the 
 fact that Father Pankratii was 
 on excellent terms with the con- 
 sistorium, the subordinates came 
 to the conclusion that it was 
 perfectly reasonable that Father 
 Pankratii should occupy the 
 whole of the church house. 
 
 Father Pankratii held almost 
 an unique position among the 
 clergy of his province. He was 
 
 1 A special kind of conveyance, in- 
 troduced into Little Russia by the 
 German colonists, and used by the 
 richer portion of the community.
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 a clergyman-squire, or, to be 
 more correct, a tenant-farmer, 
 for the glebe land was not ex- 
 tensive, some fifty dessyatines. 
 Finding himself in a poor parish, 
 Father Pankratii had turned his 
 attention to agriculture, and for 
 the last twenty years had con- 
 ducted operations on a very large 
 scale, growing yearly not less 
 than two thousand dessyatines 
 of corn ; and besides this, during 
 the last few years he had taken 
 over a whole property on a long 
 lease belonging to a neighbouring 
 squire, who had gone out of his 
 mind, and left his property in a 
 very encumbered state. His wife 
 had died when still young, leav- 
 ing him one son and one daughter, 
 and it was after this event that 
 he had turned his attention 
 almost exclusively to farming. 
 He threw himself heart and soul 
 into this occupation, either from 
 want of something to do, or 
 perhaps from natural inclination. 
 He had large transactions with 
 the merchants of the government
 
 22 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 town, both Russian and Jewish, 
 who were all on familiar terms 
 with him, and came to see his 
 granaries, to feel the wool of his 
 sheep, and taste his cheeses. 
 Father Pankratii might often be 
 seen in the town on market days 
 doing business, either dealing in 
 horseflesh, or making terms with 
 a gang of haymakers, or seeing 
 his corn sacks being emptied 
 into the warehouses. 
 
 He liked to do everything him- 
 self, and was blessed with an 
 ample stock of health and energy. 
 He was now nearly sixty years 
 old, and this active and flourishing 
 old man as yet showed no signs 
 of feebleness ; indeed, his hair was 
 only just beginning to turn grey. 
 He might be seen walking about 
 the market in top-boots, in a fur 
 hat, without his cassock, the 
 skirts of his caftan fastened up, 
 discussing prices and bargaining 
 with the various dealers ; or else 
 in the back room of a tractir, * 
 
 1 Tea-house, or eating-house, keeping 
 spirits and wine.
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 23 
 
 which he had entered by the 
 private door (to avoid scandal), in 
 company with a corn, milk, or 
 wool merchant, where he would 
 discuss business and draw up con- 
 tracts. The incongruity of these 
 unclerical proceedings surprised 
 no one, because all the inhabi- 
 tants of the town had long since 
 become acquainted with his ways. 
 Father Anton entered his 
 incumbent's spacious yard. 
 The blagotshinii's sledge was 
 standing in the middle of it. 
 The horses had been taken out 
 of the sledge and put in the 
 stable. The snow was swept up 
 into a heap in the middle of the 
 yard, and fowls, ducks, geese, 
 and pigs were wandering about 
 in all directions. At his arrival 
 two huge dogs growled angrily 
 and darted towards him barking 
 furiously, but straightway recog- 
 nising their man, they began to 
 wag their tails and lick his 
 hands. Father Anton approached 
 the covered porch leading into 
 the house. Entering, he found
 
 34 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 a distant relative of Father Pan- 
 kratii, who kept house for him, 
 setting out eatables on a small 
 oak table. Two different kinds 
 of smoked sturgeon were set out 
 on plates, besides onions and 
 large olives. 
 
 " Good-day to you, Axini'a 
 Melentievna," said the deacon, 
 bowing his head towards her 
 several times, wiping his shoes 
 on the mat placed near the door, 
 and trying to detach the lumps 
 of snow attached to them. 
 
 "Hu-u-mm! . . . "exclaimed 
 Axini'a, sharply, and throwing 
 down a knife and fork on the 
 table, put her hands up to her 
 left cheek. " Shut the door, 
 please, Father Anton ; it is so 
 cold, and I have a toothache ! " 
 
 Father Anton hastily closed 
 the door. 
 
 " Can I see the Father 
 blagotshinii ? " asked he, in a 
 friendly tone. 
 
 "You cannot imagine what 
 pain I am in with my teeth ! " 
 rejoined Axini'a. " I have tried
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 25 
 
 all sorts of remedies, but nothing 
 seems to relieve it. Ah, what 
 suffering ! At times I feel as if I 
 could lay violent hands on myself 
 were it not for the sin." 
 
 " You should try using incense. 
 Have you not tried it ? It is a 
 very good remedy," said Father 
 Anton. 
 
 " Oh, no ; it makes the teeth 
 crumble away I have tried it. 
 How is your wife to-day, Father 
 Anton, is she still unwell ? " 
 
 " Yes, poor thing, and I can 
 do nothing to make her better." 
 
 " Ah, Father Anton, God for- 
 bid that the mistress of the house 
 should be laid up in bed ! God 
 forbid ! And with all the chil- 
 dren too. . . . But does she 
 complain of pains in her chest ? " 
 
 "At times, yes. . . . Her chest 
 seems as if it would break, and 
 she suffers from breathlessness." 
 
 " Hm ! . . . I tell you what I 
 think. Don't be angry with me 
 for saying so, but I think she 
 has consumption. . . . My hus- 
 band died of it, and he languished
 
 26 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 away for three years just in the 
 same way." 
 
 Father Anton stared at her 
 with a frightened look in his 
 eyes. 
 
 " The Lord be with you, what 
 do you mean ? Good Lord 
 God ! . . ." and he even crossed 
 himself " Can I go in to see 
 the Father blagotshinii ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes ; he is inside with 
 Father Pankratii." 
 
 Axinia wiped away the tears 
 produced by the strong smell of 
 the onions with her sleeve, and 
 Father Anton was moved by this 
 gesture, for he thought her tears 
 were called forth by sympathy 
 for his sick wife. 
 
 Father Anton walked into the 
 parlour, and finding no one there, 
 passed on into the drawing-room. 
 Here the figures of two typical 
 Russian clerics met his gaze : 
 they were both seated in com- 
 fortable armchairs near a round 
 table. 
 
 Father Pankratii struck one at 
 once as a man of extraordinary
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 27 
 
 strength, energy, and independ- 
 ence. Of medium height, thick 
 set, by no means thin both the 
 absence of corpulence and the 
 full-blown cheeks betokened a 
 life of plenty, contentment, and 
 ease. His large penetrating 
 eyes wore a look of self-confi- 
 dence, and there was no trace in 
 them of uneasiness or servility 
 in the presence of his superior ; 
 his manner was simple and easy, 
 and was that of an open-handed 
 master of a house who is glad to 
 receive an honoured guest and to 
 offer him the best of all that he 
 has. His expression and manner 
 seemed to indicate some such 
 sentiment as the following one : 
 I receive you with respect just 
 because you are the blago- 
 tshinii and possibly a useful 
 person, but remember, my friend, 
 I can get along very nicely with- 
 out you, if necessary I could 
 snap my fingers at you, for I 
 have a hundred thousand in the 
 bank! 
 
 Father Pankratii's face was
 
 28 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 hairy, swarthy, and harsh look- 
 ing, and was tanned by constant 
 exposure to the weather. The 
 hair on his head was luxuriant 
 and fell to his shoulder. When 
 engaged in business affairs he 
 used to tie it up in a knot and 
 put it under his hat. Father 
 Pankratii received his visitor 
 dressed in a caftan, not consider- 
 ing the occasion sufficiently 
 solemn for him to array himself 
 in his cassock. 
 
 The blagotshinii presented 
 an entirely different type of 
 person. Being a relative of the 
 bishop, he had received an ap- 
 pointment which did not exactly 
 correspond with his years. 
 He was still quite a young 
 man, and wore a short beard, 
 and the curly hair on his head 
 was not very long ; his dress was 
 very correct and tidy. His small 
 white hand, which seemed to 
 have been made for the purpose 
 of being kissed, 1 appeared from 
 
 1 It is customary to kiss the priest's 
 hand when taking his blessing.
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 29 
 
 under the tight-fitting sleeve of 
 the light-coloured caftan which 
 he wore ; his boots creaked most 
 modestly, and he himself seemed 
 to be a most gentle, delicate 
 individual. 
 
 This man, with his good- 
 natured blue eyes and his open 
 sympathetic countenance sur- 
 rounded with golden - reddish 
 hair apparently of recent growth, 
 appeared incapable of injuring 
 any one, and perhaps this was 
 so. He spoke in good Russian, 
 which formed a strange contrast 
 to the extraordinary mixture of 
 Slavonic, Little Russian, and the 
 literary language with which 
 Father Pankratii expressed his 
 thoughts. It was well known 
 that the blagotshinii had come 
 to this part of the country J 
 with the bishop from some dis- 
 tant northern province, and that 
 he was on intimate terms with the 
 diocesan, a fact which, of course, 
 
 1 The scene of this tale is laid in 
 Little Russia.
 
 30 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 added considerably to the esteem 
 in which he was held. 
 
 " Ah, father deacon ! " said he, 
 smiling pleasantly at Father 
 Anton's apparition, " I was just 
 coming round to pay you a visit. 
 I am very glad to see you." 
 
 He stretched out his hand to 
 Father Anton, and shook his 
 hand after the worldly fashion. 
 He liked to consider himself a 
 layman, and openly gave out that 
 it was only in consideration of 
 the bishop's repeated requests 
 that he had consented to become 
 a priest. 
 
 "Sit down, Father Anton," 
 said Father Pankratii, drawing 
 up a chair with his foot. 
 
 He always addressed the 
 deacon in the second person 
 singular, except on occasions 
 when he was displeased with 
 him. His seniority in age and 
 position gave him this right ; 
 moreover, he was very well dis- 
 posed towards Father Anton, 
 whom he had known ever since 
 he was a child.
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 3 1 
 
 Both the men looked Father 
 Anton up and down, for our hero 
 was of unusual height. Added 
 to this, if one remembered that 
 he was most extraordinarily 
 thin, that he held himself per- 
 fectly erect, that his tiny head 
 affixed to a long thin neck was 
 profusely covered with a mass of 
 dark thick curls sticking straight 
 out in all directions, and that his 
 face, devoid of beard or mous- 
 tache, had small, almost child- 
 like, features, it must be admitted 
 that Father Anton presented 
 indeed a strange appearance. 
 
 Having seated himself, he 
 cleared his throat, and, in his 
 feeble tenor voice, said 
 
 " I saw you going past my 
 window, . . . and so ... I 
 came, but I will not stay, I am 
 interrupting you. . . ." 
 
 " What ! have you come to 
 see me about your petition ? " 
 
 "Yes, yes; what else should 
 it be, Father blagotshinii ? " 
 
 " Well, I have seen the bishop 
 and spoken to him about you.
 
 32 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 ... I can hardly say that he 
 was much inclined to consent." 
 
 "Not inclined? " asked Father 
 Anton, in a low tone of voice. 
 " Ah, well ! he is not inclined, 
 . . ." repeated he, this time 
 probably for his own edification. 
 
 " He is a curious man, the 
 bishop," continued the blago- 
 tshinii; " only just fancy, he likes 
 you ! " 
 
 "Likes me?" muttered Father 
 Anton, in a tone of bitter 
 scepticism. 
 
 " Yes, isn't it strange ? When 
 I informed him of your desire, 
 and laid your petition before him, 
 he said 
 
 " ' Oh, that tall fellow, I know 
 him I know him he is a good 
 young man and not ignorant ! I 
 know him.' 
 
 " ' Why, your reverence,' said 
 I, 'he manages the parish schools, 
 and has organised them excel- 
 lently, for his chief has no spare 
 time to look after them.' 
 
 "I had to say this," added 
 the blagotshiniiy turning round
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 33 
 
 to Father Pankratii, who nodded 
 his head to signify that he had 
 no objection. 
 
 "Well, that is what I said, 
 and he answered 
 
 '"Ah! just so, I always looked 
 upon him as a promising young 
 man, I always liked that tall 
 fellow. . . .' 
 
 "'Ah,' thought I, 'the busi- 
 ness is as good as done now ! ' 
 But all the same it wasn't, for 
 he added 
 
 " ' Notwithstanding that, I 
 shall not make him a priest.' " 
 
 "What reason had he?" asked 
 Father Anton, in the same agi- 
 tated voice, by no means satisfied 
 with this explanation. 
 
 " You would never guess his 
 reason. He says you cannot 
 sing in tune. Once, when he 
 was conducting service at the 
 monastery of St. John the Baptist, 
 he told me that you, Father 
 Anton, were acting as second 
 deacon and sang out of tune. 
 When the choir was singing in 
 the key of D it seems that you 
 3
 
 34 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 began in the key of G flat, and 
 that the effect was so disastrous 
 that all who were present had to 
 hold their ears. . . . Was this 
 so or not, tell me kindly ? " 
 
 " Yes, it did happen, Father 
 blagotshinii ! But how could I 
 help it ? It was the first time 
 that I had ever served with the 
 bishop, and they gave me the 
 part of second deacon without 
 any sort of preparation or prac- 
 tice, but straightway ' Put on 
 your ' stichar ' and perform the 
 service.' You can imagine how 
 nervous I was. How could I 
 possibly hit on the right note ! 
 You see this was quite an un- 
 usual event for me. But I know 
 all the rubric at my fingers' ends ; 
 indeed, the bishop himself has 
 examined me in that. . . ." 
 
 " Yes, yes ; so he told me. 
 He told me that you knew the 
 rubric well, and that he likes you 
 and will make you a priest, but 
 not at present. This is what he 
 
 1 Deacon's vestment.
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 35 
 
 said to me : ' Let him learn to 
 sing in tune. He is still quite a 
 young man. . . ." 
 
 "Ha, ha!" interrupted Father 
 Pankratii, who up till this time 
 had kept silence. " It's all very 
 well for him to argue, he has no 
 children ; * but how can Father 
 Anton, who has six children, 
 think about learning to sing in 
 tune ? it's as much as he can do 
 to see that he does not put his 
 cassock on inside out ! " 
 
 " Ah, yes, if it were not for 
 the children ! " murmured Father 
 Anton, with a sigh " if it were 
 not for my children ! . . ." 
 
 The conversation was broken 
 off at this point. Refreshments 
 were brought in, and Father 
 Pankratii assumed the part of 
 host and offered the blagotshinii 
 and deacon something to eat 
 and drink. The blagotshinii 
 explained that he was very 
 
 1 Bishops are always selected from 
 the ranks of the monastic clergy, and 
 are therefore celibates.
 
 36 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 hungry, and set to work on the 
 fish ; but Father Anton refused, 
 and sat sadly watching the 
 movements of the blagotshinii's 
 jaw that same jaw which had 
 so lately transmitted the un- 
 pleasant news to him, was now 
 busy munching fish. 
 
 " I tell you what," said Father 
 Pankratii, addressing his two 
 guests, " this is all rubbish ! I 
 believe that if only the secretary 
 of the consistorium could be in- 
 duced to whisper a word or two 
 into the bishop's ears, the diffi- 
 culty would soon be overcome 
 that is my opinion." 
 
 " I don't believe it ! " muttered 
 the blagotshinii, in such an 
 uncertain tone of voice that it 
 was evident that he did believe it. 
 
 " But I am quite sure of it. 
 Excuse me, Father blagotshinii, 
 but you are still a young man 
 and cannot know. I know it, 
 however, and know it very well ! 
 It is imperative to go to the 
 secretary, but of course to go 
 with something. . . "
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 37 
 
 " I keep silence on matters of 
 which I am ignorant," answered 
 the blagotshinii, diplomatically, 
 and swallowing a third glass of 
 vodka made the natural transition 
 from fish to sardines. 
 
 11 Well, I tell you straight out 
 without any concealment, that I 
 went through all this same 
 trouble when I was trying to get 
 a place for my son at Doukhovka. 
 The bishop raised all sorts of 
 objections : he was young, inex- 
 perienced, and frivolous my son, 
 too. . . . Well, I went off to the 
 secretary. I told him my story 
 and trusted to his influence, but 
 to make matters more certain, I 
 wrote it all down so that he 
 should forget nothing, and handed 
 him the envelope. He was no 
 fool and understood at once, so 
 did not open the letter in my 
 presence. ' Very well,' said he, 
 1 we will see what can be done 
 for your son.' ' That's all right,' 
 thought I ; ' he has only got to 
 see what is inside the letter, and 
 the result is certain.' And what
 
 38 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 do you think ? I came again two 
 days later ; the announcement of 
 my son's appointment was made, 
 and the whole thing was 
 settled." 
 
 The blagotshinii evidently con- 
 sidered it his duty not to en- 
 courage such conversation, and 
 had hitherto pretended he was 
 not listening. But at this moment 
 he drank a fourth glass, and his 
 tongue seemed to become loosened 
 involuntarily, for he asked 
 " Did you give much ? " 
 "That I shall not say. Every- 
 one gives according to his means. 
 I will only tell you that I over- 
 paid him. He would have done 
 it for less. He is a knowing 
 fellow, that secretary ! Oh, I 
 tell you he is ! Here have I 
 been labouring away for the last 
 twenty years with my own hands, 
 legs, and head, and the result of 
 it is only some 60,000 roubles 
 [Father Pankratii never men- 
 tioned the real sum], while this 
 secretary after twenty years' work 
 has managed to buy a house
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 39 
 
 which cost 200,000 ! After that, 
 will you tell me he isn't a cunning 
 fellow ? " 
 
 "Ah, Father Pankratii ! I 
 could tell you a thing or two 
 about him," said the blago- 
 tschinii, suddenly losing all con- 
 trol over his tongue. " Two 
 seminary students were both 
 trying for one place it was 
 a fine place. The first one 
 came and left a packet, an 
 hour later came the other and 
 also left a packet. He re- 
 ceived them both, but of course 
 gave the place to one only. But 
 the point of the story is that the 
 one gave two hundred and the 
 other three hundred ; well, of 
 course, the second one secured 
 the place." 
 
 " Did he return the two hun- 
 dred ? " 
 
 " Not he ! Ha, ha, ha, ha ! I 
 should think not, indeed ! " 
 
 " But what does the bishop 
 say to this ? " 
 
 " Oh, the bishop ! " continued 
 the blagotshinii, in a jovial
 
 4 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 tone of voice, "what can he 
 know about such things ? You 
 must consider his position. He 
 only views this sinful world 
 either from his reception-room, 
 where all his visitors come to 
 him as petitioners of course, in 
 a most devout frame of mind or 
 else from the windows of his 
 carriage, whence he catches 
 a glimpse of humanity, and 
 gives it his blessing, or else at 
 some public dinner, where he 
 sees people in dress-clothes, 
 wearing all their orders, or 
 finally on his pastoral visita- 
 tions through the diocese, when 
 he is met everywhere by the 
 clergy in their most spick-and- 
 span array. But it is hard for 
 the bishop to know real life as it 
 is." 
 
 " Yes, that is quite true, Father 
 blagotshinii ! " said Father 
 Pankratii, in a tone of convic- 
 tion, and the deacon sighed 
 deeply. 
 
 " Of course it is true ! And I 
 don't mind saying who told me
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 4 1 
 
 so the bishop himself, egad, it 
 was. That is what he thinks. 
 1 And we are powerless before this 
 evil owing to our position. If 
 only we were worldly people, we 
 could know the world as it is.' 
 Such were his words ! " 
 
 The Father blagotshinii now 
 began to feel that he was saying 
 too much, and suddenly became 
 silent. Father Pankratii urged 
 him to drink a fifth glass, but he 
 steadily refused. 
 
 Father Anton got up from his 
 chair. 
 
 " Well, Father blagotshinii, 
 what do you recommend me to 
 do ? " asked he, looking down at 
 the dignitary's jovial face. The 
 latter answered nothing, but only 
 folded his arms and assumed an 
 expression of doubt and per- 
 plexity. 
 
 " You should start off to town 
 and visit the secretary. That is 
 the best thing to do," answered 
 Father Pankratii, on the other's 
 behalf. 
 
 Father Anton took leave and
 
 42 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 went out without any further 
 remark. " What injustice ! " 
 thought he to himself as he went 
 home. " He admits I manage 
 the school well, and know the 
 rubric, and all the rest, but 
 simply because I sang out of 
 tune. . . . Six children, good 
 Lord God ! Hear me, your 
 reverence ! H'm ! . . . go to the 
 secretary ! But what is the use 
 of it ? He will never understand 
 if I tell him I have six children 
 and a sick wife. His heart is 
 probably as stony as all the 
 others. But what am I to say to 
 Nationka ? Poor thing, she is 
 expecting to hear good tidings 
 from me ! Ah, me, alas ! what 
 am I to say to her, poor thing ? 
 It is impossible to tell the truth. 
 She would be upset and begin 
 to cry and curse her life. . . . 
 What an ill-mannered creature 
 that Axini'a is? devoid of all 
 good feeling! What a heartless 
 thing it was for her to say that 
 Nationka has consumption ! . . . 
 How easy it is to say a cruel
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 43 
 
 word ! and in such a brutal 
 way ! She is simply an ill-bred 
 woman !" 
 
 Anton decided in any case not 
 to tell his wife the truth. 
 
 On arriving at the space in 
 front of the church, he found 
 the children still playing there. 
 They had made a huge snow- 
 man, and Vaska, in order to 
 give the finishing touches to his 
 head, was standing on a stool 
 which he had brought out of the 
 house. Marinka was not there. 
 She had gone back into the 
 kitchen to rock Sasha to sleep. 
 
 Father Anton took off his 
 cassock in the kitchen, wiped 
 his shoes, and after warming 
 himself by the stove, determined 
 to go into the parlour. 
 
 Here he found his wife dozing, 
 but she opened her eyes im- 
 mediately when he appeared. 
 
 "Well, what did the blago- 
 tshinii say ? " asked she ; evi- 
 dently she had been thinking of 
 nothing else all the time. 
 
 " Oh, nothing special, Na-
 
 44 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 tionka, he said that the bishop 
 is favourably disposed towards 
 me." 
 
 " That means he will make 
 you a priest ? " 
 
 " Of course he will. . . . But 
 only he said I must wait a little. 
 . . . And he . . . said I must 
 . . . present myself personally 
 to the bishop. . . . He wishes 
 to see me." 
 
 " What a wonderful thing ! 
 He wants to see you ? " 
 
 " I suppose so ; well, let him 
 have a look if he likes, he won't 
 make me any the shorter for 
 that. . . ." 
 
 Father Anton, in order to en- 
 liven his wife, gave a little titter 
 at this last joke. But terrible 
 perplexity was in his mind. 
 How was he to find money for 
 his journey to town ? He had 
 nothing left which he could 
 either pawn or sell. What would 
 his solitary jade or his old cow 
 fetch ? At the end of the win- 
 ter, when provender was scarce, 
 no one would take them at any
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 45 
 
 price. And then, how could he 
 leave his family without milk ? 
 No, it was useless to think of 
 that, and he was only deceiving 
 his wife by vain hopes. 
 
 But Nationka added 
 
 " Well, I suppose, if you have 
 to present yourself, you had 
 better lose no time in starting. 
 One must strike when the iron 
 is hot." 
 
 "All right, Nationka, I shall 
 be off! I shall write to my 
 sister Douniasha to come and look 
 after you during my absence." 
 
 The deacon sat down and 
 wrote to his sister, but was in 
 ignorance of how he would find 
 the necessary means for his 
 journey to town, or what he 
 would do when he arrived there. 
 His chief anxiety was to make 
 his wife's mind easy.
 
 II. 
 
 BOUTISTCH&VKA was a 
 large but miserable village. 
 Its population increased rapidly, 
 and new mud huts were con- 
 stantly springing up, but why 
 people lived here in preference 
 to some more flourishing locality, 
 no one, not even the inhabitants 
 themselves, could say. The vil- 
 lagers possessed but little land, 
 and this was divided up into 
 small lots, which were totally 
 inadequate for the sustenance 
 of their owners. In days gone 
 by, the river had been the chief 
 source of wealth, but fifteen 
 years ago the family who had 
 owned the place from time im- 
 memorial had sold their pro- 
 perty, which passed into the 
 46
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 47 
 
 hands of a certain merchant 
 Skridloff by name who soon 
 made good his claim to the river 
 with all its fish and the reeds 
 lining its banks, and sold the 
 right to the use of these pro- 
 ducts to the peasants at a ruin- 
 ous price. The moujiks lived 
 on their miserable allotments in 
 a state of permanent semi-star- 
 vation, and the population con- 
 tinued to increase with unfailing 
 regularity. It is sufficient to 
 say that the kabatchik J Jesse 
 found it unadvisable to drive 
 his claws any deeper into 
 Boutistchevka ; and after due 
 consideration removed his " es- 
 tablishment " to an outlying de- 
 pendency of the village ten versts 
 off, called Tcherkin, where there 
 were twenty or thirty huts, which 
 belonged to well-to-do people, 
 who imbibed vodka in large doses. 
 Thus it was that a fresh 
 
 1 Publichouse keeper an industry 
 generally in the hands of the Jews, who 
 are allowed to live in this part of the 
 empire.
 
 48 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 calamity befell the dwellers in 
 the luckless village of Boutist- 
 chevka ; they had to get ten 
 versts to satisfy their thirst, but 
 this circumstance in nowise di- 
 minished their ardour. Some of 
 them, indeed, found that the extra 
 journey improved the flavour. 
 But the majority deplored the 
 transfer of the " establishment " 
 to Tcherkin. It had hitherto 
 been the one pleasant corner in 
 Boutistchevka, and life without 
 it, lost its solitary charm. Some 
 people had petitioned Jesse to 
 return, but nothing came of it ; 
 for Jesse founded his calcula- 
 tions on that infallible law of 
 political economy supply and 
 demand. The settlement of 
 Tcherkin demanded vodka, and 
 thither he took his supply. It 
 can well be supposed that, under 
 these painful circumstances, 
 there was no parishioner to 
 whom Anton could turn for 
 money to enable him to under- 
 take his journey. It was absurd 
 to expect any help from the new
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 49 
 
 proprietor, the merchant Skrid- 
 loff. The one absorbing pre- 
 occupation of this latter person 
 was to turn everything that 
 would fetch a copeck into money, 
 and used to lament bitterly 
 when his last lot of reeds 
 was sold and there remained 
 nothing else to realise money 
 upon. The only thing left to 
 Anton was to turn to his incum- 
 bent for a loan. Father Pan- 
 kratii, at any rate, knew him, 
 and would surely trust him. 
 
 This was four days after the 
 interview with the blago- 
 tshinii. The snow was melting, 
 and it hardly seemed likely that 
 any more would fall that winter. 
 Water appeared on the surface 
 of the ice on the river, and 
 people had ceased to trust them- 
 selves upon it any longer. 
 
 The beginning of March had 
 brought the first warmth of the 
 sun's rays, and almost a spring- 
 like feeling prevailed in the air. 
 The new grass began to appear, 
 and the birds chirruped more 
 4
 
 50 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 confidently than before. Anton 
 told his wife that he had to take 
 the parish register to the priest ; 
 but the real nature of his busi- 
 ness was of a far more serious 
 nature, and he felt that he was 
 about to undertake an impor- 
 tant step. In case he met with 
 a refusal everything would be 
 at an end, for there was no 
 one else to fall back upon. 
 There were, however, certain 
 indications which made him 
 view the situation hopefully. 
 
 He knew that it was only the 
 day before, that Father Pan- 
 kratii had sold his last year's 
 wheat very advantageously. This 
 should surely dispose the incum- 
 bent to assist him. Moreover, 
 he had recently received fees, so 
 that he could not refuse on the 
 score of having no ready money. 
 
 Father Anton started off on 
 his errand, buoyed up with 
 hopes. It was Sunday, and 
 mass was just over. The in- 
 cumbent, who was drinking tea, 
 received his visitor affably.
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 51 
 
 1 Will you have some tea, 
 father deacon ? " 
 
 " No, thank you, I have just 
 had some. I have come to see 
 about a little matter of business, 
 Father Pankratii." 
 
 " Business? Well, let me hear 
 what you have to say." 
 
 " I wish to speak to you about 
 my prospects." 
 
 " H'm ! . . . how can I help 
 you in your prospects ? If only 
 I was the bishop, I would make 
 you a protopope straight off." 
 
 '* Ah, it is not that exactly. 
 If you remember, you advised 
 me to go to the secretary. It is 
 no use to go to him empty- 
 handed. . . ." 
 
 " Well, of course we all know 
 that. What would he care for 
 your visit ? " 
 
 "That is just it. And as I 
 have no money . . ." 
 
 " If you have got nothing it is 
 no use your starting," concluded 
 Father Pankratii with fatal logic. 
 
 " He does not understand me," 
 thought the deacon, and felt at
 
 52 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 this moment that there was little 
 to be got out of the incumbent. 
 But still he would try again. 
 
 " I thought . . ." began An- 
 ton, and then got confused 
 again. 
 
 " What did you think, Father 
 Anton ? " asked the other, whose 
 tone betrayed but little hope of 
 success. " You thought, I sup- 
 pose, that heaven would shower 
 down money upon you. No, my 
 friend, there is no money in 
 heaven." 
 
 " Oh, no, I only wished to ask 
 you. . . . Will you take pity on 
 me and lend me money ? I 
 would repay you early in Lent." 
 
 " I have no money, my 
 friend," answered Father Pan- 
 kratii, shortly, without giving 
 any further explanation. 
 
 Father Anton was silent, he 
 was quite unable to understand 
 how people could refuse so ab- 
 ruptly. 
 
 There was no doubt about the 
 fact that the money which Father 
 Pankratii had received the day
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 53 
 
 before was safe in his pocket, 
 and he himself had made no 
 secret of it ; on the contrary, he 
 had even boasted of it before the 
 churchwarden. " See," said he, 
 " what I have just received ; I 
 kept my corn through the winter 
 and am a thousand roubles the 
 better for not selling earlier." And 
 then the same man unblushingly 
 declares that he has no money. 
 If father Anton had money in his 
 pocket and was asked for a loan 
 by some one let us suppose, 
 whose credit was not very good 
 he would doubtless have made 
 the most polite excuses for half 
 an hour, and would probably 
 have ended by giving the money. 
 To a downright " no," there is 
 nothing more to be said. Thus 
 it was that the last ray of hope 
 vanished like smoke, and Father 
 Anton saw that his last chance 
 was gone. But he must surely 
 have known his incumbent's rule 
 of never lending money to any 
 one under any circumstances 
 whatever. Occasionally a mou-
 
 54 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 jik would implore him for thirty 
 roubles to buy a horse with, in 
 order to get his land ploughed, 
 promising to return it; but Father 
 Pankratii always answered, " I 
 have no money." This was a 
 fixed principle of his. The rea- 
 son of this was that, conducting 
 affairs of an unclerical nature on 
 such a large scale, he found it 
 advisable to avoid any action 
 which might make his conduct 
 appear in an unfavourable light. 
 This flourishing position had 
 already earned for him plenty of 
 enemies, who, on the slightest 
 pretext, would have been ready 
 to accuse him of being a usurer 
 and extortioner. 
 
 Anton was well aware of this 
 rule, but thought that an excep- 
 tion might have been made in 
 the case of a colleague, under 
 such peculiar circumstances. 
 After a prolonged silence, Father 
 Pankratii said 
 
 " Perhaps my daughter Mari- 
 ana Pankratievna may be able to 
 help you, she generally has some
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 55 
 
 ready money; you ask her, and 
 see if she will. . . ." 
 
 " Mariana Pankratievna ? " 
 asked Father Anton; " but she is 
 very exacting." 
 
 " Well, my friend, that's your 
 affair. . . . Please yourself. . . . 
 Maybe she will make easier 
 terms for you ! Anyhow, ask 
 her ; why, here she comes." 
 
 At that moment the priest's 
 daughter entered the dining- 
 room. She wore a long, checked 
 morning-dress, which fitted her 
 very badly, and was stained and 
 worn out, and gave the impres- 
 sion of having been made long 
 ago, when she was stouter and 
 younger. This most probably 
 was the case, because Mariana 
 Pankratievna had led a dull, 
 solitary life with her father, and 
 had seen better days at a period 
 when she was stouter and jollier. 
 Although only thirty-five years 
 old, she looked at least forty. 
 Her long thin arms attired in 
 loose sleeves, her emaciated 
 hands, flat figure, swarthy yellow-
 
 56 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 ish complexion, and scanty hair, 
 all betokened a dried-up person. 
 She was a widow ; her husband, 
 a priest, had only survived 
 his marriage three years, and 
 died without leaving any children. 
 From the time of her husband's 
 death she had rapidly grown old- 
 looking and lean. She would 
 doubtless have been willing to 
 venture on matrimony a second 
 time, and owing to her father's 
 wealth, had received more than 
 one proposal. But her ideal was 
 the clergy. She used to say to 
 her suitors, " I could not become 
 the wife of an official or merchant 
 after having been a popadyd. 1 
 It would be like degradation from 
 a general to the ranks." Such 
 was the high opinion she enter- 
 tained of the calling with which 
 she had identified herself by her 
 first marriage. But, unluckily, 
 candidates for the holy office, as 
 is well known, are forbidden to 
 marry widows. Thus it was 
 
 1 Priest's wife.
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 57 
 
 that Mariana rejected all her 
 admirers. Very possibly by this 
 time she had become less exact- 
 ing, and might be inclined to 
 change her ideal. But suitors 
 were no longer forthcoming, and 
 she now considered herself a 
 widow for ever. She occupied a 
 separate part of the house to her 
 father, and never troubled herself 
 with his affairs. She had her 
 independent fortune, originally 
 amounting to three thousand 
 roubles, which was her marriage 
 settlement ; and owing to her 
 business-like capacities, had 
 already turned this into fifteen 
 thousand. The peasants of the 
 village frequently visited her part 
 of the house, and rarely went 
 away without having transacted 
 their business. 
 
 " The deacon wishes to see 
 you on business, Mariana," said 
 Father Pankratii. " I really 
 don't know what it is about, but 
 he will explain it to you." 
 
 Having said this, the priest left 
 the room and entered his study.
 
 58 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 Anton bowed to the priest's 
 daughter, who did not hold out 
 her hand to him, for she con- 
 sidered it beneath her dignity to 
 shake hands with any of the 
 lower orders of the clergy. 
 
 " What is it ? " asked she, 
 drily. 
 
 " I . . . eh . . . want ... eh 
 ... to borrow some money. . . . 
 I am in very difficult circum- 
 stances, Mariana Pankratievna 
 very difficult ! " 
 
 " Money ? From me ? But 
 why don't you ask my father ? " 
 
 " Father Pankratii tells me he 
 has none." 
 
 "Well, supposing I have ? " 
 
 " You have ? " asked Anton, 
 his face lighting up, as though it 
 mattered not whether she would 
 accede to his request or not. 
 
 " Yes ; but my terms are very 
 hard." 
 
 " I am in such difficulties that 
 I shall be glad to borrow on any 
 terms." 
 
 " How much do you want ? " 
 
 " Altogether . . . eh . . . one
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 59 
 
 hundred and fifty roubles ! " 
 Father Anton up till this mo- 
 ment had not thought about the 
 amount of the sum required, and 
 mentioned this figure more or less 
 at random, but the thought just 
 flashed through his mind, " I 
 must square the secretary with a 
 hundred, and fifty for expenses. 
 I must buy Nationka a silk 
 shawl, and a doll's house for the 
 children." 
 
 " My terms are hard, Father 
 Anton. I am really sorry for 
 you." 
 
 " What interest will you re- 
 quire, Mariana Pankrati6vna ? " 
 The deacon was boiling over with 
 impatience, and felt inclined to 
 agree to the most exacting terms. 
 " Once I am a priest, I shall 
 easily be able to pay it off again." 
 
 " To-day is the 12th of March. 
 You must repay me on the 12th 
 of April. Here is a hundred and 
 fifty roubles, and you will give 
 me back two hundred ; and also 
 you will hand me the proceeds of 
 the sale of your winter crops."
 
 6o A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " ex- 
 claimed Father Anton. 
 
 " You have sown your winter 
 crops, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Yes, seven dessyatines." 
 
 " Very well ; you shall draw up 
 a contract to the effect that you 
 have sold your winter crops, 
 whatever they may amount to. 
 This is merely a security. I do 
 not want your crop. You know 
 very well I do not deal in corn." 
 
 Father Anton gazed at the 
 woman and wondered that such 
 people could exist in the world. 
 " And she is a popadyd and a 
 priest's daughter! " thought he, 
 " and brought up in the diocesan 
 schools. Good Lord, Good 
 Lord!" But Anton was more 
 especially surprised that he 
 should be thus treated. He 
 instinctively tried to fathom this 
 phenomenon. He knew of course 
 that Mariana did not accommo- 
 date the wants of the moujiks for 
 nothing. If she gave one of 
 them ten roubles in the spring, 
 she would take back twenty at
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 6 1 
 
 the feast of the Intercession. 
 But the moujik being a proprietor 
 of land, she required no security 
 of him. With the deacon things 
 were different, for he might be 
 turned out of his place at any 
 moment, or be transferred to 
 another parish. 
 
 Anton's hesitation did not last 
 long; indeed, what could he do 
 in such an extremity ? So he 
 said 
 
 " Well, hand me the money, 
 Mariana Pankratievna." 
 
 " So you agree to my terms ? " 
 
 " I agree." 
 
 " My conditions are very hard ; 
 I am indeed sorry for you." 
 
 " There is nothing else for it, 
 Mariana Pankratievna, I am in 
 very great straits." 
 
 Anton hastily concluded this 
 disgraceful bargain, fearing that 
 the priest's daughter might 
 change her mind and refuse to 
 let him have the money. Indeed, 
 his whole future prospects de- 
 pended on his getting this sum. 
 
 Mariana, however, had no
 
 62 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 intention of torturing his mind 
 with doubts, and a quarter of an 
 hour later he was at home again. 
 Nationka had got up. She felt 
 better. Father Anton wished to 
 talk to her calmly, but could not 
 restrain the joy which filled his 
 breast. The thought that he had 
 a hundred and fifty roubles in his 
 pocket made him feel just as if 
 he had gained the ambition of 
 his life and was a priest with a 
 living of his own. 
 
 " I hope Douniasha will come 
 soon, as I want to be off to the 
 town," he kept repeating, and 
 often went out into the roadway 
 to see if there were any signs of 
 his sister's arrival. At length a 
 peasant's conveyance was seen 
 approaching, all bespattered with 
 liquid mud from the road, which 
 was covered with streamlets of 
 water from the thawing snow. 
 A peasant was seated on the front 
 part of it, and his legs dangling 
 in the air seemed at times to be 
 mixed up with his horse's hind 
 legs : behind him was seated
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 63 
 
 Douniasha, a handsome girl, 
 with a pleasant countenance, a 
 sonorous voice, and lively man- 
 ners. She immediately set to 
 work to get her brother's house 
 put in order. Although totally 
 uneducated, she was an excellent 
 household manager, and incap- 
 able of remaining idle for a 
 minute. 
 
 Her four brothers who were 
 all unsuccessful men, having 
 none of them attained a higher 
 rank than that of deacon con- 
 sidered themselves lucky when 
 their sister paid them a visit. 
 She used to look after the chil- 
 dren, manage the kitchen de- 
 partment, milk the cows, and do 
 the sewing ; in fact, she was worth 
 her weight in gold about this 
 all her brothers were unanimous. 
 She had many admirers, but was 
 in no hurry to marry, for she 
 knew her worth and valued the 
 liberty of single life. " I am a 
 free bird," she would say, " and 
 flit from one brother to another 
 like a butterfly ; if I marry there
 
 64 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 will be children, illness and 
 good-bye to the joys of life. I 
 have seen enough of wedded 
 life." Father Anton became 
 much more lively when his sister 
 arrived, and even his wife began 
 to take a less hopeless view of 
 the world in general. 
 
 " Thank you, Douniasha, for 
 coming; I am off to the town 
 to-day." 
 
 " We shall get on very well 
 without you," retorted Douni- 
 asha. 
 
 A few hours later Anton was 
 on his way to town. The road 
 was in a most terrible state. 
 His wretched jade kept stum- 
 bling over the holes in the road. 
 Father Anton was all covered 
 with mud. The horse walked 
 nearly the whole way, so that 
 the journey occupied all night. 
 Scarcely a hut was passed the 
 greater part of the way. On ap- 
 proaching the town, settlements 
 and houses became more and 
 more frequent, and towards dawn 
 the town was at last reached.
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 65 
 
 Here the ill-paved streets were 
 literally a sea of mud, and foot 
 passengers who wished to cross 
 them seemed as though they 
 had made up their minds to 
 take a dive and swim for it. 
 Father Anton went straight to 
 the inn. It was still early 
 according to town reckoning 
 seven o'clock. He wished to 
 wash and tidy himself up. It 
 was hardly likely that the secre- 
 tary would get up till eight 
 o'clock, or that his office would 
 be opened earlier than ten. So 
 Anton thought it advisable to 
 visit him between these hours, and 
 having drunk tea, which refreshed 
 him after his night journey, he 
 procured a piece of notepaper 
 and an envelope. He wrote his 
 petition for promotion to the 
 priesthood on the paper, and 
 carefully folding it up with the 
 hundred rouble note enclosed 
 between the sheets, placed it 
 in the envelope. Anton did all 
 this with a look of boldness and 
 confidence, probably because he 
 5
 
 66 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 was alone in a room at the inn, 
 and the stories related by his 
 incumbent and by the blago- 
 tshinii were fresh in his mind 
 and made him feel sanguine of 
 the success of his enterprise. It 
 all seemed such a straightfor- 
 ward, simple thing to do. At nine 
 o'clock he had already arrived 
 at the secretary's rooms, and was 
 waiting in the entrance hall. 
 
 " What am I to tell the secre- 
 tary you have come to see him 
 about, bdtioushka ? " asked an old 
 woman, who, to judge by her 
 appearance, might either be the 
 secretary's wife or housekeeper, 
 or else an old nun. 
 
 " Well ... It does not matter 
 ... he does not know me. I 
 have come to him about my own 
 business." 
 
 " I suppose you would scarcely 
 come about any one else's," and 
 the old woman disappeared into 
 a long, gloomy corridor. 
 
 Father Anton paid no attention 
 to the old woman's remark. 
 He was astonished by the sound
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 67 
 
 of his own voice, which now 
 sounded wonderfully feeble and 
 nervous. And after all, there 
 was nothing to be frightened at. 
 Like all other entrance halls, 
 this one was furnished with two 
 chairs, a table surmounted with 
 a looking-glass, and a row of 
 pegs to hang hats and coats on. 
 Through the half-opened door, 
 he could see into the drawing- 
 room, which was decorated with 
 handsome furniture in brown 
 holland coverings, and an instru- 
 ment of the harmonium tribe. 
 The old woman, too, did not 
 present a very striking appear- 
 ance ; everything was, in fact, 
 very much the same as in other 
 people's houses. But none the 
 less Father Anton found himself 
 prostrated by a desperate attack 
 of nervousness. The cause of 
 this must doubtless have been 
 that envelope in his pocket, 
 which enclosed his petition and 
 the bank note. What would be 
 the ultimate result of that hun- 
 dred rouble note ? It was either
 
 68 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 to be his salvation, or else it 
 would be the cause of his irre- 
 trievable ruin. The old woman 
 soon reappeared, and invited 
 him to follow her. Passing along 
 the dark corridor, he turned to 
 the left and suddenly found him- 
 self in the secretary's study. 
 The room was a very small 
 one with a low ceiling, two 
 small windows looking out on a 
 courtyard, and a clumsy-looking 
 writing table, the green cloth of 
 which was covered with ink 
 stains. Above the low table in 
 the corner of the room hung 
 several eikons, or sacred pic- 
 tures, and before the largest of 
 these a lamp was burning. A 
 smell of burning olive oil from 
 this lamp pervaded the room, 
 and the little flame twinkled 
 and crackled. The secretary 
 occupied hired rooms, and no 
 one would have supposed that he 
 was the landlord of a house worth 
 200,000 roubles. But this was so. 
 Father Anton had seen this man 
 twice at the consistorium, and
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 69 
 
 immediately recognised his face. 
 He was an enormous man with 
 a large head covered with grey 
 hairs, his face was clean shaven, 
 and as red as that of a man who 
 has just emerged from a cold 
 bath ; his long black frock coat, 
 his broad, somewhat stooping 
 shoulders, gave his visitors a 
 feeling that their arrival was not 
 welcome. It seemed as though 
 he was indifferent to all mankind, 
 and was vexed at being disturbed 
 by visitors. He remained stand- 
 ing near the door, with his face 
 half turned away from his visitor, 
 as though about to sneeze. 
 Father Anton made a profound 
 bow to him. 
 
 " What is your name ? " asked 
 the secretary in a boyish voice, 
 ill in keeping with his sedate ex- 
 terior. Something in the nature 
 of a good bass growl might have 
 been expected from a person with 
 so commanding a presence. In 
 addition to this, he drawled out 
 his words with somewhat of a 
 nasal twang.
 
 70 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 " lam the deacon of Boutist- 
 chevka Anton. . . ." 
 
 ** Boubuirko ? " interposed the 
 secretary, abruptly, motioning to 
 him to take a seat, and himself 
 walking with heavy steps towards 
 his armchair. 
 
 "I am he ! ... I ... the 
 Father blagotshinii . . . that is 
 ... eh ... I presented a peti- 
 tion . . . eh. . . ." 
 
 " I know," said the secre- 
 tary. 
 
 " The bishop said ... it was 
 too soon. . . ." 
 
 " I know," repeated the host, 
 keeping his motionless eyes fixed 
 on Father Anton all the while. 
 
 " I have six little children . . . 
 and I . . . have been working 
 the school . . . and as for the 
 rubric ..." 
 
 " I know," muttered the secre- 
 tary again. Father Anton heaved 
 a deep sigh. This motionless 
 gaze fixed on him seemed almost 
 to paralyse him, and he felt that 
 he should never find courage to 
 put his hand in his pocket and
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 7 1 
 
 draw out the letter on - which 
 everything depended. 
 
 " I have now come to place 
 myself in your hands. . . . All 
 my hopes depend upon you," 
 continued he, and suddenly he 
 felt for his pocket with his hand, 
 but his fingers after fumbling 
 about a little, returned to their 
 former position on his knee. 
 
 " But supposing that the 
 bishop . . ." began the secretary, 
 but he was here interrupted by 
 Father Anton. 
 
 " I have prepared a petition 
 which I venture to hand you." 
 
 " A petition ? . . . Well, that 
 may be useful." 
 
 The deacon hastily drew the 
 envelope out of his pocket and 
 was horrified at its crumpled 
 untidy appearance. 
 
 " I fear . . . the envelope is 
 crumpled ! " said he, convulsively 
 clutching it with his trembling 
 fingers. The step he was about 
 to take would either make or 
 mar him. And supposing that 
 Father Pankratii and the blago-
 
 72 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 tshinii were only making fun of 
 him when they told him those 
 stories. 
 
 " Very well, your petition shall 
 receive due attention," said the 
 secretary, fixing his eyes on the 
 letter. 
 
 The deacon placed the letter 
 on the edge of the writing-table, 
 and forthwith got up and bowed. 
 The secretary took the envelope 
 in a careless manner and moved 
 it to the centre of the table. 
 Father Anton was already in the 
 entrance hall. He had never 
 been in such a hurry as he was 
 on this occasion. He pictured 
 to himself the probable result of 
 his action. The secretary, most 
 likely, having opened the envelope 
 and found the bank note, had 
 turned pale, and was trembling 
 with anger and would rush 
 after him, crying, " How dare 
 you ! I ! The secretary ! You ! 
 Deacon ? Eh ? The bishop will 
 inform the synod ! You shall 
 be unfrocked, and sent to the 
 monastery to do penance ! "
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 73 
 
 " Oh Lord, save and help 
 me ! " exclaimed the deacon 
 mentally, thrusting his left foot 
 in his golosh. " What have I 
 done ? What have I done ? 
 Ruined my wife and family ! " 
 
 Some such scene appeared to 
 him inevitable : the secretary 
 would be sure to take offence. 
 To offer so highly placed a 
 personage a bribe ! It was 
 dreadful ! And what should he 
 want money for with his large 
 salary ? 
 
 The deacon hastily descended 
 the staircase and gained the 
 street, but still no one pursued 
 him. Once in the open air he 
 became calmer, and even decided 
 to wait there a minute or two. 
 If he was to perish, it was better 
 to know the worst at once. Why 
 linger in suspense ? He looked 
 anxiously up the staircase leading 
 to the secretary's apartments ; 
 everything was silent and motion- 
 less as before. 
 
 At length, having thoroughly 
 regained his self-possession, he
 
 74 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 saw that it was extremely un- 
 likely that he would be pursued, 
 and felt convinced that the con- 
 tents of his letter would appeal 
 most eloquently to the secretary's 
 heart ; in fact, that the thing was 
 now settled. 
 
 Having thus consoled himself, 
 he resolved to keep away as far 
 as possible from the consistorium 
 and the bishop's palace for the 
 rest of the day. In an unlucky 
 moment he might fall under his 
 lordship's eye and thus spoil 
 everything. But the whole of 
 the day was still before him and 
 had to be got through some- 
 how. 
 
 He lingered for some time 
 about the market place where he 
 met several of his parishioners, 
 and then returning to the inn 
 tried to sleep, but his mental 
 agitation was too great. 
 
 He had a good many friends 
 among the lesser clergy in the 
 town, but he resolved to keep 
 clear of them all. Questions 
 would doubtless be asked as to
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 75 
 
 the object of his visit, and he 
 would most likely be unable to 
 restrain himself, and would say 
 that he had come to present a 
 petition that he should be pro- 
 moted to the priesthood, and this 
 would give rise to endless jokes, 
 jealousies, and other unpleasant- 
 nesses. It was better not to 
 disturb the even tenour of their 
 lives. It was the excitement 
 of anticipation that kept him 
 awake ; he had little fear as to 
 the ultimate issue. The secretary 
 was a man of high influence, and 
 having accepted the bribe there 
 was little doubt that he would 
 use his influence. 
 
 Nevertheless, Father Anton 
 thought it wise to visit the 
 blagotshinii. He did not in- 
 tend to ask any favour of the 
 dignitary, but merely to pay his 
 respects. 
 
 The blagotshinii was well 
 disposed towards him, and had 
 put in a good word for him to the 
 bishop, so he felt bound to show 
 his gratitude for this.
 
 76 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 The blagotshinii lived in a 
 smart little house, and every- 
 thing in the interior looked 
 bright and inviting the polished 
 wooden staircase, the little glass 
 conservatory filled with plants, 
 and the small, snug, bright 
 rooms with their comfortable 
 furniture decorated with blue 
 and pink satin, the charming 
 wife and merry children the 
 whole surroundings, in fact, made 
 a pleasant impression on all who 
 visited the house. 
 
 It was easy to see that all 
 guests, whether highly placed or 
 humble, were received with equal 
 warmth. 
 
 " Ah, Anton, so you've come ! 
 Very glad to see you ! Come in 
 here, Aniouta," said he, calling 
 his wife. " Father Anton has 
 come you know, from Boutis- 
 tchevka ! Have tea brought in. 
 You will have some tea, Father 
 Anton, and some jam ? And tell 
 me, how is your wife's health ? 
 And Father Pankratii ? Always 
 busy with his affairs, I suppose ?
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 77 
 
 Here comes my eldest daughter ; 
 don't be afraid, Nioura, come 
 and speak to Father Anton ; he 
 does not bite. . . ." 
 
 The matoushka and other 
 children made their appearance, 
 and tea was served, and Father 
 Anton's hosts made him feel 
 quite at home. Father Iohann, 
 the blagotshinii, lived quite in 
 the style of a layman. Nothing 
 in his home surroundings re- 
 minded one of his sacred calling, 
 or that he held a post which is 
 looked upon as the high road to 
 the dignity of protopope. His 
 study walls were not adorned 
 with the usual view of Mount 
 Athos or amateur sketches ; but 
 there were several geographical 
 maps and a solitary landscape 
 in a black frame. A bookcase 
 with glass doors contained 
 handsomely bound volumes with 
 such names as the following 
 printed on their backs : " Schlos- 
 ser," " Buckle," " Schiller," 
 " Poushkine," " Tourgenieff," 
 &c, names whose significance
 
 78 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 failed to impress Father Anton. 
 A pianoforte stood in the drawing- 
 room ; the matoushka played a 
 valse on it and the children 
 danced. 
 
 Father Anton was invited to 
 stay for dinner. He had not yet 
 succeeded in getting a private 
 talk with the blagotshinii, and 
 was longing to tell him about 
 his visit to the secretary that 
 morning ; and was burning to 
 confide the story of his success 
 to some one. Such an occasion 
 offered itself after dinner. He 
 was sitting with his host in the 
 study. The blagotshinii was 
 luxuriously reclining on a soft 
 sofa smoking a cigar. The deacon 
 had been offered a cigar, but 
 declined ; he was unaccustomed 
 to this form of tobacco, and used 
 generally to smoke very thick 
 cigarettes of his own manufacture, 
 using a piece of reed grown in his 
 own parish as a mouthpiece. 
 
 " I have seen the secretary 
 to-day, Father blagotshinii I " 
 remarked the deacon.
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 79 
 
 " Aha, about that business of 
 yours, I suppose. . . ." 
 
 " Yes ... I asked him to 
 help me, and he promised to do 
 what he could. . . . He is a 
 stern man. . . . Very conscien- 
 tious in the performance of his 
 duties, I should think." 
 
 " I don't know; I have nothing 
 to do with the consistorium. The 
 bishop wanted me to become a 
 member, but I refused. All sorts 
 of intrigues go on there ! " 
 
 " Do you know, Father blago- 
 tshiniiy that I left a letter with 
 him . . . with a petition, he! he! 
 he ! . . ." continued Anton, in a 
 lower tone, looking anxiously at 
 the door. 
 
 " It's a very strange thing, but 
 if I don't smoke a cigar after 
 dinner, I feel just as if I had 
 not dined at all," remarked the 
 blagotshinii. 
 
 " Habit, I suppose," rejoined 
 the guest, thinking to himself 
 uneasily " I begin about the 
 letter and he turns off the sub- 
 ject to cigars."
 
 80 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 Strains of music were heard 
 in the adjoining room. Father 
 Anton continued 
 
 ** I handed him my letter, and 
 he put it down on the middle of 
 the table and said, ' That will 
 do.' . . ." 
 
 " Play us something of Men- 
 delssohn's, Aniouta," exclaimed 
 the dignitary, calling out to his 
 wife ; and turning round to his 
 guest, said " I am very fond of 
 Mendelssohn. He is my favourite 
 composer listen! . . . Romance 
 sans paroles." 
 
 The deacon had to listen, and 
 the conversation did not again 
 turn upon the secretary and the 
 letter. 
 
 He returned at dusk to the inn 
 through the streets, which were 
 already lit up. His thoughts 
 turned on the pleasant news 
 awaiting him on the morrow at 
 the consistorium. What fine 
 results his expedition was to 
 bring him ! and he pictured 
 Nationka's and Douniasha's de- 
 light when he returned to them a
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 8 1 
 
 priest. He also thought, what 
 strange characters one meets 
 with in life ! The secretary, for 
 instance, if one could believe all 
 that was said of him, was the 
 possessor of a house worth 
 200,000 roubles, and yet he 
 would take one hundred roubles 
 from a poor man ! And then the 
 blagotshinii, who would not 
 even listen to his story ! He 
 either did not care to hear it, or 
 perhaps did not wish to mix him- 
 self up in these matters. And 
 then, what a contrast there was 
 between these two men ! The 
 one, gloomy repellent, and the 
 other, pleasant, cheerful, and 
 everything about him bright ! 
 They both held lucrative posts 
 and lived in good style, each in 
 their own way. 
 
 To be deacon in a poor parish 
 with six children and an invalid 
 wife was sad contrast to all this. 
 
 The next morning, at twelve 
 o'clock, Anton was walking in 
 the bishop's garden on the evenly- 
 rolled gravel paths. He knew 
 6
 
 82 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 that this was the hour when the 
 secretary was received in audi- 
 ence by his reverence, and was 
 anxiously awaiting the issue. 
 He mentally depicted the scene 
 which was being enacted. The 
 secretary unfolds his petition 
 and reads it : " Ah," says the 
 bishop, "that is the fellow who 
 cannot sing in tune ! I have 
 already told him that he must 
 wait ! " " Your reverence," re- 
 plies the secretary, " that was 
 merely an accidental circum- 
 stance, and occurred because he 
 was not given a chance of practis- 
 ing it up, but he is really a 
 worthy and capable man ; he 
 has six children, and I take this 
 opportunity of mentioning his 
 name to your reverence. . . ." 
 Anton pictured to himself the 
 secretary's long speech, which 
 the bishop listens to with atten- 
 tion, and is finally persuaded to 
 grant the petition. The bishop 
 then says, " Well, I see there is 
 nothing else to be done ! You 
 have convinced me, secretary !
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 83 
 
 Give me the pen ! " and forth- 
 with the prelate takes the pen 
 and writes " I am well pleased 
 to lay hands on the deacon Anton 
 Boubuirko, and will raise him to 
 the dignity of priesthood." The 
 secretary folds up this document, 
 and, placing it in his portfolio, 
 returns to the consistorium. One 
 o'clock has struck. He must 
 give the secretary time to hand 
 the document to the clerk. He 
 knows this clerk he is a very, 
 very old man, who has served in 
 the consistorium almost since 
 its first inauguration. He is 
 clean shaven like the secretary, 
 but not so big, and, unlike him, 
 he is bald, and of a jovial disposi- 
 tion. In times gone by, when 
 there was a secretary who wore 
 whiskers, he also wore whiskers. 
 He would very likely have to 
 give this man a trifle also. 
 
 Two o'clock struck. Anton 
 calculated that all formalities 
 must be completed by this time, 
 and started off to the consis- 
 torium. He found the clerk en-
 
 84 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 grossed in the work of comparing 
 the copy of some document with 
 its original. 
 
 " One minute, please, bd- 
 tioushka," said he with a smile. 
 Being toothless, his smile was 
 not an agreeable one. Father 
 Anton waited, feeling perfectly 
 calm, and had no unpleasant 
 apprehension as to the verdict 
 awaiting him. 
 
 " The deacon Anton Bou- 
 buirko ?" asked the clerk. " Let 
 me see yes, here is your peti- 
 tion ! " 
 
 He took up the petition from 
 the table and put it right up to 
 Anton's nose. The deacon read 
 the bishop's remark written under 
 it in blue pencil : " This petition 
 is untimely, the petitioner has not 
 learned to sing in tune." Lower 
 down on the paper was written 
 in black ink, in the secretary's 
 hand" Refusal." 
 
 " That is all, I think," added 
 the clerk, again smiling, and 
 placing the letter back on the 
 table.
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 85 
 
 Father Anton's head seemed 
 all in a whirl at that moment. 
 A mist rose before his eyes and 
 obscured from him the head clerk 
 and his assistants and another 
 deacon who had entered, and was 
 bowing low and making some 
 request with tears in his eyes. 
 What had happened ? Nationka 
 was crying. Douniasha was 
 looking as black as thunder, a 
 thing he had never before seen. 
 Mariana Pankratievna was de- 
 manding her money back and 
 repeating, " I am very sorry for 
 you, father deacon; my terms are 
 hard, I know ; " and the blago- 
 tshinii, jolly-looking as ever, 
 was standing somewhere high up 
 in the clouds smoking a cigar 
 and laughing. But this vision 
 only lasted a minute. Father 
 Anton suddenly recollected and 
 thought, " I have given him too 
 little ! " and then a daring project 
 arose in his mind to go to the 
 secretary, and, in the presence of 
 all the officials, members of the 
 consistorium, and petitioners,
 
 86 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 ask him, " How much more do 
 you want, Mr. Secretary ? " But 
 then from bold projects, conceived, 
 in the mind of a country deacon, 
 to bold actions is a very long 
 way. So he did not go to the 
 secretary after all, but returned 
 to the inn. He ordered his con- 
 veyance, harnessed his horse, 
 and paid his reckoning with the 
 innkeeper almost mechanically. 
 He was even surprised that his 
 feelings, especially with regard 
 to Nationka and the children, 
 did not overwhelm him. But 
 such despair as his was not of 
 the ordinary kind. He was too 
 much stunned to let his grief 
 overcome him. It was only late 
 that night, when still ten versts 
 from home, that he suddenly 
 started up and beat his horse 
 pitilessly. Some unknown cause 
 urged him to push on home as 
 fast as possible. 
 
 Arriving back about midnight, 
 he was surprised to see lights in 
 his windows at so late ah 
 hour.
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 87 
 
 Nationka was prostrated with 
 a bad attack of fever, and was in 
 a delirious state. The deacon 
 was met by his sister with tears 
 in her eyes. The children were 
 asleep in another room, with the 
 exception of the eldest one, Ma- 
 rinka, who was sitting on the 
 foot of the bed looking at her 
 mother with a terrified expres- 
 sion. 
 
 " What is the matter with 
 her ? " asked Father Anton. 
 
 " Sh-h ! . . . come in here." 
 
 Douniasha took hold of the 
 sleeve of his cassock and pulled 
 him into the kitchen. She then 
 sat down, flung her arms on the 
 table, and buried her head in her 
 hands and burst out crying. 
 
 " Anton, Anton, how unlucky 
 you are ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 " Yes, unlucky in every re- 
 spect ! " whispered Father Anton. 
 
 The presentiment of that which 
 he was about to be told so over- 
 came him that he dared not ask 
 any further questions. 
 
 " Almost immediately after you
 
 88 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 had started she went to bed," 
 said Douniasha, trying to restrain 
 her tears. " Her head was split- 
 ting, and her chest was stifled 
 as though weighed down with a 
 rock, and she was seized with 
 such a terrible fit of coughing 
 that hemorrhage set in. . . . We 
 got frightened, and sent for the 
 village surgeon. . . . He came 
 and examined her, and, taking 
 me aside, said, ' You know the 
 matoushka has got consumption 
 in its very worst form ... I 
 fear she can scarcely live more 
 than a few days longer.' " 
 
 The deacon's knees trembled, 
 and he involuntarily sank down 
 on a chair. He was as pale as 
 a ghost, but did not weep, only 
 his lower lip trembled convul- 
 sively, and his eyes, immovably 
 fixed on Douniasha, frightened 
 the latter by their senseless ex- 
 pression. 
 
 " And do you know," muttered 
 he, in a feeble childlike voice, 
 " my journey, too, has been in 
 vain. ... I gave the secretary a
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 89 
 
 hundred roubles, which I bor- 
 rowed from Mariana, but it was 
 all in vain, because I can't sing 
 ... in tu-u-une ! " 
 
 Anton was here overcome with 
 floods of tears. His sister ap- 
 proached him and tried to con- 
 sole him by saying that the 
 surgeon knew nothing about it ; 
 but all her efforts were in vain, 
 for Anton continued to sob like a 
 woman, hitting his head pitilessly 
 against the table. 
 
 " You will disturb her," said 
 Douniasha. He then got up and 
 began to walk about on the earth 
 floor of the kitchen with both his 
 hands up to his face. 
 
 " Douniasha, Douniasha, what 
 is to become of us ? . . . Lord, 
 have mercy ! " . . . muttered he, 
 casting a glance at the eikon 
 in the corner, blackened with 
 smoke, as though he there ex- 
 pected to find a way out of all his 
 troubles. Douniasha leant her 
 head against the cold wall and 
 wept silently. 
 
 The door opened and Maria
 
 90 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 entered. Maria, usually gay and 
 careless, was now pale and her 
 eyelids swollen. 
 
 " The matoushka wants to see 
 you ! . . ." 
 
 "Me?". .. asked Anton, and 
 taking off his mud-stained cassock, 
 began to wash his face, and 
 especially his eyes, in order to 
 remove all traces of his tears, 
 and, after combing his hair, went 
 quietly on tip-toes to the next 
 room. He exerted the whole of 
 his small stock of self-possession 
 to keep his voice and face calm, 
 and even to look happy. 
 
 " Why, Nationka ! What is 
 the matter with you ? Good Lord ! 
 You have taken to your bed ! . . ." 
 said he, in a quiet voice, kissing 
 her burning forehead. 
 
 " Yes, Anton, and I am going 
 to take to my grave ; God is 
 punishing us for our sins." She 
 was here attacked by a most 
 distressing fit of coughing. 
 
 " What are you talking about, 
 Nationka? You will get better 
 again ! When the sun gets a
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. gi 
 
 little bit warm you will get up 
 again. . . ." 
 
 But Anton felt that the tone 
 of his voice belied his words. 
 Worst of all, he was suddenly 
 attacked by a fit of stammering, 
 which at ordinary times he was 
 free from, and this betrayed his 
 real anxiety. 
 
 " The sun will get warm again 
 but I shall never feel it," said 
 Nationka, slowly shaking her 
 head. " But if only it will warm 
 my children ! I feel that my 
 end is near. . . . The surgeon 
 knows it, and Douniasha's tears, 
 and I heard you just now in the 
 kitchen. ... I feel it, Anton I 
 feel it ! I wish to talk to you a 
 little. . . . But first take Ma- 
 rinka up to bed ; she should not 
 be here." 
 
 " Come along, Marinotshka, to 
 bed ! " said Father Anton, turn- 
 ing round to the little girl. 
 
 But Marinka clutched her 
 mother's feet convulsively with 
 both her little arms. 
 
 "No; I don't wish to leave
 
 92 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 mamma ! I will never leave her. 
 ... I will go into the grave 
 with her ! " exclaimed the child. 
 
 Nationka'seyes became moist. 
 
 " Let her stay," whispered the 
 mother; " sit down, Anton take 
 a chair and sit down." Anton 
 obeyed. 
 
 " Tell me, how did you get on in 
 the town ? Has the bishop con- 
 sented ? " 
 
 " The bishop . . . nothing 
 special ! . . . Nothing, Nation- 
 ka!" 
 
 " Do not deceive me, Anton ! 
 I may not be alive to-morrow. 
 Tell me the truth. Has he 
 refused ? " 
 
 " He has, Nationka," muttered 
 Anton, in a low voice, letting his 
 head fall on his breast. 
 
 " Altogether or only tempo- 
 rarily ? " 
 
 " For a time, Nati6nka ! He 
 wrote, ' The petition is ill-timed, 
 as he cannot sing in tune.' In 
 tune the Lord help us ! " 
 
 " Is this the truth, Anton ? " 
 
 " It is, Nationka, I swear it ! "
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 93 
 
 " And how are you to educate 
 our six children ? And, Anton," 
 added she in a lower tone of 
 voice, so that Marinka should 
 not overhear, but the little girl 
 pricked up her ears and did not 
 lose a single word ; " if I die 
 you will be left a widower." 
 
 " Good Lord ! " whispered An- 
 ton. 
 
 " You will be a widower, An- 
 ton . . . and widowers are never 
 made priests. ... It is illegal. 
 . . . Exception is only made in 
 special cases, when the widower 
 is over forty. But you, Anton, 
 have never done anything to 
 deserve such an exception being 
 made in your favour." 
 
 Anton got up, sighed, put his 
 hand to his forehead, and sat 
 down again. 
 
 " Oh, Lord, Lord ! " he whis- 
 pered, and raising his hand made 
 the sign of the cross. 
 
 11 This is no time for indeci- 
 sion, Anton ; you must consider 
 the best thing to be done ! . . . 
 Remember the six ! If you re-
 
 94 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 main a deacon for life, surrounded 
 by such poverty as we now live 
 in, our children will be beggars. 
 And what have they done, poor 
 things, to deserve such a 
 fate ? " 
 
 " What is to be done ? it is 
 the Lord's will ! " 
 
 " If I die, you remain a deacon 
 for life." 
 
 " I cannot think of any way 
 out of our trouble, Nationka." 
 
 Father Anton was indeed too 
 much overwhelmed by misfortune 
 to be in a state to view the situa- 
 tion calmly. He seemed to have 
 lost all power of thinking, and it 
 only remained for him to bow 
 silently to his fate. His feelings 
 were further harassed by his 
 wife's terrible cough. 
 
 " Listen, Anton; lose no time 
 . . . you are not a widower so 
 long as I am alive. ... Go off 
 at once to the bishop. . . . Do 
 not lose a minute. . . . Entreat 
 him on your knees, tell him every- 
 thing. . . . Tell him that I am 
 dying, and that your last chance
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 95 
 
 will be gone. The bishop will 
 take pity on you. . . . Go." 
 
 She was again seized with a 
 fit of coughing, after which she 
 added in a breathless voice 
 
 " Go ! . . . fall at his feet . . . 
 for I shall die to-morrow, and 
 you will be a deacon for ever." 
 
 " Nationka, Nationka, what 
 are you saying? . . . Heaven have 
 mercy on us both ! " 
 
 " I say go ! . . . Go, Anton ! 
 . . . Remember the children. . . . 
 Go!" 
 
 " How can I go if you are . . . 
 how can I, Nationka ? " 
 
 " I can die without you, if God 
 so wills. Go at once ! " 
 
 " Nationka, I cannot I cannot 
 leave you ! " 
 
 " Anton, come nearer to me. 
 . . . Give me your hand. . . . 
 Like that ! We have lived for 
 eight years together, and you 
 have always gratified my wishes. 
 . . . Are you going to refuse my 
 request now ? . . . now that I am 
 dying ? . . . I implore you, in the 
 name of all that is sacred, to go !
 
 96 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 . . . Anton, my dear ! It is my 
 last request ! Go. ... I feel sure 
 that the bishop's heart will be 
 touched. ... It will indeed ! . . . 
 See there, our dear sensible little 
 girl, Marinka, is she to grow up 
 without education ? . . . and the 
 others, too. . . . Kiss me, and 
 start off to the town. ... If God 
 so wills, I shall await your return, 
 and gladly shall I die, if all is 
 fulfilled. . . . Now go, my dear 
 Anton. . . ." 
 
 Father Anton, overcome with 
 religious emotion of a nature 
 which he had never before ex- 
 perienced, made the sign of the 
 cross over her thrice in a slow 
 and deliberate manner, and then 
 kissed her lips. He then took 
 Marinka in his arms, and also 
 crossed her and kissed her, after 
 which he went into the room 
 where the other children were 
 sleeping and repeated this action 
 to each of them. 
 
 " I will go," he said in a hoarse 
 but firm voice. " As it is your 
 desire, and you feel ... I will
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 97 
 
 go ! It is bitter for me . . . 
 terribly bitter, but I will go as 
 you order me, Nationka." 
 
 His step became firmer, and 
 his look more self-possessed. He 
 was imbued with the idea that 
 he was executing Nationka's wish 
 perhaps her last wish. 
 
 Anton went out into the vesti- 
 bule, and from thence into the 
 yard. The stars were still twink- 
 ling faintly, and the first pale 
 light of early dawn was lighting 
 up the sky. Father Anton went 
 into the shed where his horse 
 stood. This miserable beast 
 looked utterly exhausted and de- 
 jected after its long journey. 
 Father Anton saw that his horse 
 could not possibly carry him 
 another forty versts in its present 
 condition, besides which, he had 
 no time to lose. To-day was 
 Saturday. If the bishop would 
 take pity on him the ceremony 
 must either be performed on the 
 following day, otherwise a week 
 must elapse till the next Sunday, 
 and who could say what a week 
 7
 
 98 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 would bring forth. He returned 
 again to the yard. 
 
 " Maria," said he, " run im- 
 mediately to the post station and 
 order a pair of horses and a 
 dilijan ... I am going back 
 again to the town. And tell 
 them not to put a bell on." 
 
 " To the town ? " asked Douni- 
 asha. 
 
 " Yes, Douniasha, I am sent 
 by my wife." 
 
 " For the doctor ? " 
 
 " Ah, Douniasha, I fear the 
 doctor can do but little good 
 now . . . The village surgeon 
 was right. She has so far re- 
 lapsed in a single day that death 
 must now be imminent. She 
 knows it herself ! . . . " 
 
 " Then why are you going to 
 the town ? " 
 
 " On business which I myself 
 hardly understand, Douniasha. 
 It is better to ask no questions 
 about it . . . Perhaps Nationka 
 will tell you ... I go at her 
 request ... I rely entirely on 
 you, Douniasha . . . Take care of
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 99 
 
 her . . . and in case of anything, 
 which the Lord forbid ... I 
 shall return to-morrow. Alas ! 
 alas ! " 
 
 He walked up and down the 
 yard, looked in at the shed again 
 and went down to the river. The 
 postmaster delayed, and it was 
 already broad daylight when a 
 pair-horse conveyance drove up 
 to the deacon's hut. 
 
 Father Anton hastily entered 
 the house, bowed three times 
 before the eikon, knelt down, 
 whispered a prayer, and then 
 turning to Nationka said 
 
 " I am starting, Nationka. 
 May your wish be fulfilled ! " 
 She only nodded her head en- 
 couragingly. He bent down his 
 head and Nationka placed her 
 cold emaciated arms round his 
 neck, and drawing his face near 
 her cheek whispered 
 
 " Good - bye, Anton ! I will 
 keep alive till you return ; I have 
 sufficient strength for that ! " 
 
 He went out with uneven steps, 
 and seated himself in the con-
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 veyance, which started off over 
 the uneven and muddy road. 
 
 A journey of forty versts for a 
 man with his soul weighed down 
 by such griefs, doubts, and diffi- 
 culties, seems an endless one. 
 
 Had he been alone he could 
 have freely given vent to his 
 feelings. But in front of him 
 was seated the yemstchik Makar, 
 one of the village peasants, 
 who knew Father Anton well. 
 Makar was curious to learn the 
 cause of this sudden expedition. 
 
 " It's some important affair, I 
 suppose, father deacon, which 
 calls you so suddenly to the town. 
 You always used to go with your 
 own horse, and now, suddenly, 
 you order post-horses. . . ." 
 
 " Because it is necessary," 
 answered Anton. 
 
 " Some business affair, I sup- 
 pose ? Has the bishop sent for 
 you ? " asked Makar. 
 
 " Be silent, for God's sake! . . . 
 Why do you bother me ? It is 
 not your business. . . ." 
 
 Makar turned his back to the
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 deacon and was silent. The 
 deacon's mind was occupied with 
 subjects foreign to Makar and 
 his questions. Impressions pro- 
 duced by events in times long 
 since gone by, speculations con- 
 cerning the misty, uncertain 
 future, and thoughts about his 
 wife laying on her bed of sickness, 
 in turn presented themselves to 
 his mind. The whole of his past 
 life came back to him, and he 
 pondered over it with feeling and 
 deliberation, as though preparing 
 himself for confession on some 
 occasion of special solemnity. 
 
 He remembered his father, a 
 village deacon with a large 
 family. Up to the age of ten 
 years old he had been allowed 
 to run about with his brothers 
 and sisters in the mud and the 
 sun with bare feet ; no one looked 
 after them, they could do what 
 they liked ; and they saw many 
 things with the observant eye of 
 children, and found out things 
 which other children should not, 
 and do not, know. They were
 
 102 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 taught the alphabet by their 
 father ; he was an old man and 
 taught them in the old style : 
 the alphabet, the prayer book, 
 and the psalms as the highest 
 wisdom, and this was all. They 
 first read the psalms, then learned 
 them by heart the old man 
 could not devise any course of 
 learning beyond this, for that 
 was all he knew himself, except- 
 ing what was necessary in his 
 clerical duties. At the age of 
 ten he was suddenly taken off to 
 the town and put to school. 
 
 This was one of the regular 
 ante-reform schools, which Anton 
 entered just before the abolition 
 of the old system of instruction ; 
 but, notwithstanding the im- 
 pending changes, it was still 
 directed on the old lines. He 
 was suddenly set down to learn 
 Latin and Greek with the assis- 
 tance of various instruments of 
 torture, which exercised a terrible 
 influence on this boy, who had 
 always been accustomed to the 
 freedom of life in the open air.
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 103 
 
 He understood nothing neither 
 the school discipline, nor the 
 rules of Latin grammar and he 
 therefore used to be flogged, have 
 his ears boxed, be shut up in a 
 dark room in fact, he was 
 " taught," in the fullest sense of 
 the word, according to former 
 ideas of education. The recol- 
 lection of this period in Anton's 
 career only brings a feeling of 
 wild pain at the stupid, senseless 
 treatment he then received. Why 
 should he have been thus treated? 
 Every one ill-treated him from 
 the head-master down to the 
 most hopeless idler who could 
 double his fists. But this state 
 of things only lasted two years. 
 Suddenly everything was radi- 
 cally changed. I All became 
 polite and considerate towards 
 him : new masters were ap- 
 pointed, who addressed him in 
 the second person plural, rods 
 and rulers were abolished, and 
 
 1 These reforms were introduced 
 during the reign of Alexander II.
 
 104 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 no one was beaten, no one cried. 
 But Anton was already crushed 
 and frightened ; he made but slow 
 progress with his learning, re- 
 mained two years in each class, 
 and earned for himself the nick- 
 name of " ass." He somehow 
 managed to get into the semi- 
 nary, remained there a year, but 
 could not make any progress. 
 
 When Anton reached his 
 twentieth year his old father, 
 the deacon, was still alive, and 
 began to think about a career 
 in life for his son. The only 
 opening that offered itself seemed 
 to be the Church ; he was or- 
 dained sub-deacon, and it was 
 probable that he would never 
 attain a higher rank than that 
 of deacon. There were many 
 others whose prospects of further 
 success than this were doubtful. 
 But Anton was fortunate in one 
 respect. It seems that not so 
 very long ago a certain proto- 
 presbyter died, a man of some 
 importance in the diocese, who 
 had formerly been blagotshinii,
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 105 
 
 and a member of the consis- 
 torium. This dignitary left a 
 very considerable fortune, and 
 directed in his will that a portion 
 of his money should be applied 
 to the foundation of a home for 
 orphan girls of the families of 
 the clergy. These girls were to 
 be educated and to be taught 
 needlework and housekeeping 
 in fact, to be so brought up as 
 to make suitable wives for the 
 lesser clergy. Owing to the fact 
 that the founder had been held 
 in universal esteem, education 
 in this home conferred special 
 privileges on those who had 
 been its inmates. It soon be- 
 came known that any one 
 choosing a wife from among the 
 girls educated there, acquired 
 the right of early promotion to 
 the rank of deacon. Anton was 
 one of those who benefited by 
 this privilege. At times, when 
 Anton was confidentially dis- 
 posed, he would give his version 
 of the story such as the follow- 
 ing:
 
 106 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 " Bat'ka says to me:' Now, 
 my little son : you have finished 
 your education and been through 
 the course, and I see that you 
 don't want to be more learned 
 than your father was. Go and 
 choose a wife from the home 
 and then you will be a deacon, 
 anyhow. The deacon's bread, 
 God knows, is not very white, 
 but still it is whiter than the 
 sub-deacon's.' Well, what did 
 I care ? It was all the same 
 to me. I had not learned sense 
 then. I was quite ready to 
 marry ; of course, I understood 
 about the advantages of a wife. 
 . . . Well, I was sent off to 
 the home, together with my 
 parents and my father's brother- 
 in-law, also a deacon. On 
 arriving, we were taken straight 
 into the class-room. Of course, 
 all the girls knew that a suitor 
 was being brought to see them, 
 and they were all got up in their 
 best clothes, and were sitting 
 
 1 Father diminutive.
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. I07 
 
 in a row, eight of them, some 
 sewing, and some doing em- 
 broidery. . . . We entered, I, 
 of course, keeping behind my 
 relations ; for, you know, I felt 
 just a bit awkward .... An 
 unknown man arrives and has 
 to choose his companion for life 
 forthwith. I was not quite so 
 tall as I am now. We walked 
 twice across the room and I 
 had a look at all their faces. . . . 
 Well, you know, it seemed rather 
 like looking at goods in a shop 
 or bazaar. However, it was no 
 use walking about the room 
 without doing anything. I had 
 to make up my mind somehow. 
 My mother came up to me and 
 said, ' I should advise you, An- 
 tosha, to take that one over 
 there with the light hair, doing 
 the embroidery.' It so happened 
 that I did not care for the light- 
 haired girl, I cannot give any 
 reason, but I did not fancy her. 
 But near the corner I saw a 
 dark girl, thin and pale ; I looked 
 at her and felt such pity for her,
 
 Io8 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 for she looked so pinched, and 
 my heart beat faster. . . . There, 
 thought I, is my destiny ! And 
 I said to my mother, ' No, I 
 don't care for the light one, I 
 prefer the dark-haired one over 
 there ! ' and pointed at her with 
 my finger. And mother replied, 
 ' Well, it's your affair ; I shall 
 not have to live with her.' After 
 this we left the room, and went 
 into Father Isidore's room for 
 refreshments. Father Isidore 
 was the director of the home. 
 I saw that my dark-haired girl 
 was already here, pouring out 
 tea : she turned red and I could 
 see that she was agitated. We 
 were introduced to each other, 
 and I learned that her name was 
 Nathalia Parfentievna, and I 
 straightway rechristened her 
 Nationka in my mind. As soon 
 as we had drunk tea I discovered 
 that the others had disappeared 
 and left us two together. She 
 was seated on the sofa looking 
 out of the window, as though not 
 thinking about me at all. I saw
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. I09 
 
 at once that they had purposely 
 left us together in order that I 
 should explain myself. I had 
 never before found myself alone 
 with a young girl, and had not 
 the least idea of how to set 
 about explaining my intentions 
 to her. My heart beat fast, as 
 I suppose it ought to have. I 
 became confused. Well, there 
 was nothing for it. I had to 
 make a beginning. I had come 
 to find a wife and had to find 
 one. So I went up to her and 
 said, ' Nathalia Parfentievna, 
 you must know what I am here 
 for very well, so it is not neces- 
 sary to explain. I wish to have 
 you as my wife and to become 
 a deacon ; the most reverend 
 bishop has promised to lay his 
 hands on me, and has even found 
 a place for me at the village of 
 Boutistchevka, although there is 
 no regular deacon's place there.' 
 Her eyes dropped ' I know all 
 ... I agree ! ' And then I 
 even kissed her hand. The 
 following day we were mar-
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 ried, and I was ordained 
 deacon." 
 
 This was Anton's version of 
 the story when in a happy frame 
 of mind ; but, of course, under the 
 present circumstances, the details 
 of this history presented them- 
 selves to him under a different 
 aspect. This episode all came 
 back to him with tenderness, but 
 his spirit was laden with grief. 
 He and Nationka had got on well 
 together indeed, they seemed 
 to have been created one for the 
 other. Children came to them 
 one after another " without any 
 interval," as Nationka used to 
 express it, and their poverty 
 increased with each fresh arrival. 
 Nationka's health had from the 
 first been feeble, but she had 
 always kept on her feet, and 
 only during the last two years 
 had showed signs of giving in. 
 Father Anton had been a model 
 churchman, and the bishop was 
 well disposed towards him, and 
 there was every probability that 
 he would be raised to the
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. Ill 
 
 priestly dignity ere long. The 
 fact of Nati6nka coming from 
 the home was all in his favour. 
 Then came that unfortunate in- 
 cident about his failure to sing 
 in tune, and the flame of hope 
 expired with a flash. The re- 
 collection of happy days spent 
 with Nationka came back to 
 Anton's memory, when he was 
 at length counting on obtaining 
 a living, and that Nationka would 
 recover her health, and all would 
 be well with them. And sud- 
 denly such an unlooked-for, im- 
 probable misfortune ! 
 He was now going to town at 
 his wife's urgent request. Maybe 
 the bishop would have pity on 
 him and grant his petition. But, 
 if Nationka was not to share his 
 good fortune, what joy would 
 there be ? And how could he 
 live without Nationka ? He was 
 only twenty-eight years old. Life 
 was still before him. The future 
 appeared to him like a cold, dark 
 tomb. . . . 
 
 When he thought of that which
 
 I T 2 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 was passing at home, his heart 
 bled, and a cold chill ran over his 
 body. Nationka was lying there 
 on her deathbed, and he was on 
 his way to town to petition for 
 promotion. It seemed a dreadful 
 thing to be thinking about pro- 
 motion at a moment when the 
 person nearest his heart was 
 dying ! . . . 
 
 But then the six children ? 
 the loss of a single minute might 
 perhaps render him a widower, 
 and consequently a pauper for 
 life, and his children beggars. 
 
 At length the town was reached. 
 Again he drove through the 
 muddy streets of that town from 
 which, only yesterday, he had 
 been so relentlessly and unfairly 
 driven. A second time he entered 
 it as a humble petitioner, but this 
 time feelings of quite a different 
 nature had possession of him. 
 Father Anton pulled out his 
 watch and looked at the time. 
 It was nearly mid-day. Just the 
 time when the bishop received 
 visitors in audience.
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 1 13 
 
 " Go straight to the bishop's 
 palace, as quick as you can ! " 
 he cried to Makar. 
 
 Makar urged on his horses, and 
 they plunged forward, scattering 
 the liquid mud in all directions 
 with their feet. On reaching the 
 entrance to the palace, Anton got 
 down. Makar said to him 
 
 " Eh, father deacon, you can't 
 go into the bishop's palace all 
 covered with mud ? . . . Your 
 cassock and face and hair are 
 all bespattered with it." 
 
 Father Anton paid no attention 
 to this remark. He only drew 
 his sleeve across his forehead, 
 thus smearing the mud over his 
 face, and ran up to the private 
 door leading to the bishop's 
 rooms.
 
 III. 
 
 THERE were about ten 
 people waiting in the 
 spacious reception room of the 
 bishop, which was furnished 
 with rows of uncomfortable look- 
 ing chairs placed against the 
 walls, adorned with portraits of 
 metropolitans and other impor- 
 tant personages in the clerical 
 world. The majority of those 
 seeking an audience with the 
 bishop belonged to various ranks 
 of the clergy ; they were all care- 
 fully got up for the occasion with 
 their hair oiled and combed, and 
 were standing in the centre of 
 the reception room. The bishop 
 had not yet made his appearance, 
 but was expected every minute.
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 1 1 5 
 
 A young monk with rosy cheeks 
 had looked into the room several 
 times in order to count the num- 
 ber of the visitors. The bishop 
 was engaged with some person 
 of greater importance than the 
 others, who had been admitted 
 into the inner room. The 
 petitioners had long since worked 
 up the expressions of their faces 
 to the highest pitch of calm 
 devoutness, when a strange con- 
 versation was heard going on in 
 the outer hall, in tones, perhaps, 
 never before heard in these stately 
 precincts, where people usually 
 walk on tip-toes and converse in 
 whispers. 
 
 "Excuse me, bdtioushka, but I 
 can't let you in like this ! I 
 must first ask the lay brother," 
 said the hall porter. 
 
 "I don't care, I wish to see 
 the bishop the bishop himself," 
 replied a tenor voice, stuttering 
 with excitement. 
 
 " But you must wipe your feet, 
 bdtioushka, and clean yourself up 
 a bit. . . . You can't go in as
 
 Il6 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 you are. . . . You will cover 
 the floors with mud ! " exclaimed 
 the porter. 
 
 " No, no, it does not mat- 
 ter. ... I cannot stop to think 
 about that ! " 
 
 To judge from the sounds that 
 were then heard it seemed as if 
 resistance was being made to the 
 entry of the new-comer. 
 
 " I can't let you in, bdtioush- 
 ka!" 
 
 14 Get away ! " 
 
 " Very well ; it will be the 
 worse for you ! " 
 
 " I don't care ! It cannot be 
 worse. Let me pass ! " 
 
 " As you like." 
 
 Looks of astonishment now 
 replaced the former pious expres- 
 sions of the visitors waiting in 
 the reception room. Father 
 Anton rushed into the room, 
 past the porter, with clods of 
 mud on his huge boots, his 
 face unwashed, and his hair dis- 
 hevelled 
 
 " Has his reverence come out 
 yet ? " exclaimed Father Anton,
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 1 1 7 
 
 in a tone of voice quite out of 
 keeping with the solemn sur- 
 roundings. 
 
 " No, he has not," replied the 
 others, looking with astonishment 
 at the petitioner who dared to 
 present himself in such an un- 
 ceremonious manner. 
 
 The lay brother, hearing the 
 disturbance, came out from the 
 inner room, and seeing Father 
 Anton, went up to him. 
 
 "What do you mean, bdtioush- 
 ka, by coming here in such a 
 manner ? " 
 
 Father Anton gazed down at 
 this little man with an air of 
 profound contempt. 
 
 "Get away, for God's sake!" 
 exclaimed he, with such tone and 
 emphasis that the lay brother 
 moved off quickly, almost pre- 
 cipitately, and shrugged his 
 shoulders. At this moment 
 Father Iohann, the blagotshinii, 
 came out from the inner room with 
 a bundle of papers in his hands. 
 He had just been having an 
 interview with the bishop.
 
 Il8 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 Seeing Father Anton, he ap- 
 proached him 
 
 " What does this mean, father 
 deacon ? " 
 
 " I am determined to present 
 myself to his reverence, Father 
 blagotshinii." 
 
 " You are ruining your pros- 
 pects for life." 
 
 " Ah, Father blagotshinii, 
 things cannot be worse with 
 me than they are now," muttered 
 Father Anton. 
 
 "The blagotshinii took him 
 aside and whispered 
 
 " I hope you are not going to 
 compromise any one." 
 
 Father Anton at once grasped 
 his meaning. The blagotshinii 
 evidently thought that he had 
 come to complain of the secretary 
 for taking a bribe. 
 
 " Ah, it is not that, that I have 
 come here about it is not that, 
 Father blagotshinii. I am in 
 such trouble! " said he, clenching 
 his fist against his breast. 
 
 " What about ? " 
 
 At this moment the bishop
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 119 
 
 himself entered the room. He 
 was a tall, vigorous looking old 
 man, and was clad in a dark blue 
 silk cassock ; he wore a long 
 silky grey beard ; the expression 
 of his countenance was severe, 
 and inspired the respect of all. 
 When receiving visitors in 
 audience he scarcely ever spoke, 
 but only listened and observed. 
 He possessed a most remarkable 
 memory, used to remember all 
 he had heard, and afterwards 
 form his decisions in his study. 
 
 " Who is making all this noise 
 here ? " asked his lordship, but 
 instead of receiving an answer, 
 he heard the sound of hurried 
 steps across the room, and some 
 one threw himself down at his 
 feet, clutching him by the knees. 
 
 " Please, your reverence, it is 
 I. . . . It is my great grief that 
 makes me noisy." 
 
 The bishop's first impulse 
 was to get away from this 
 impetuous supplicant. His face 
 reddened with anger ; but when 
 he saw that the mud-stained
 
 120 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 individual before him was none 
 other than deacon Anton Bou- 
 buirko, when he heard his 
 trembling voice and his stam- 
 mering, disjointed speech, his 
 heart softened, and he said 
 
 " What is your trouble about ? 
 Get up, deacon ! " 
 
 " Unheard of trouble ! My 
 wife . . . your reverence, is 
 dying. . . . Oh, Lord God! . . . 
 she is dying . . . she is dying, 
 your reverence ! " 
 
 It was impossible to catch the 
 meaning of Father Anton's words 
 after this, for his voice became 
 choked with sobbing. 
 
 The bishop was in perplexity 
 as to what to do with this man, 
 but then seeing that he could get 
 no coherent statement from him, 
 said to Father Iohann 
 
 " Father blagotshinii try and 
 find out what he wants me to do 
 for him." 
 
 " Come along with me, father 
 deacon," said the blagotshinii, 
 catching hold of him by the 
 sleeve of his cassock.
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 121 
 
 
 
 Father Anton got up and 
 quietly followed the blago- 
 tshinii. They passed through 
 a low door into a small room, 
 fitted up with a marble wash- 
 hand-stand and a looking-glass, 
 and the blagotshinii, shaking 
 his head, said 
 
 " How can you act thus, father 
 deacon ? It is not hard to en- 
 rage the bishop." 
 
 " I know not what I am doing, 
 Father blagotshinii. ... I am 
 overcome with trouble. Nation- 
 ka, my wife, is dying of consump- 
 tion . . . Oh, Lord my God ! if 
 not to-day, then to-morrow, I 
 shall become a widower, and all 
 will be over with me. ... A 
 deacon for life, Father blago- 
 tshinii . . . and what shall I do 
 with my six children ? My wife, 
 poor thing, sent me here ; she is 
 dying, but still she made me go. 
 ' Think of the children,' she said. 
 . . . ' I will die without you . . . 
 and perhaps the bishop may 
 have pity on you.' . . . Just 
 think of my position, Father
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 blagotshinii ! . . . My wife dying, 
 and I am here . . . perhaps she 
 is already dead, and then . . . 
 father blagotshinii I 
 
 Suddenly, to the blagotshinii 's 
 astonishment, the deacon fell on 
 his knees and stretched out his 
 arms to him in supplication. 
 Father Iohann endeavoured to 
 calm and console him. 
 
 "In a few minutes the bishop 
 will have finished his audience, 
 and we will tell him all about it ! 
 You wait quietly and I will ex- 
 plain it to him." 
 
 " Very well, Father blago- 
 tshinii," said Anton, in a firmer 
 voice, seating himself on a chair 
 with a high back. Twenty 
 minutes elapsed, during which 
 time the deacon was unable to 
 collect his thoughts. 
 
 The audience ended, Father 
 Iohann explained Anton's posi- 
 tion as best he could to the 
 bishop. 
 
 The latter ordered Father 
 Anton to be sent for. 
 
 On re-entering the audience
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 1 23 
 
 chamber, Anton saw there was 
 no one there excepting the 
 bishop, Father Iohann, and the 
 lay brother. When he found 
 himself face to face with the 
 bishop he trembled. 
 
 " Supposing your wife is dead, 
 you are already a widower," said 
 the bishop. 
 
 " God's will be done," humbly 
 replied Anton. 
 
 " And you ask to be made a 
 priest, knowing very well that 
 priesthood is not conferred on 
 widowers under forty years of 
 age ? " 
 
 " I know it, your reverence." 
 
 " How can I grant your re- 
 quest ? This would have to be 
 answered for before God." 
 
 " Your reverence ! We shall 
 answer! My six little children 
 entreat you ! . . . " 
 
 The bishop was silent and 
 walked up and down the room 
 several times. 
 
 "Your wife may still be alive!" 
 said he at length, half to himself. 
 " I am really sorry for you. . .
 
 124 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 You are a worthy man. Six 
 children, you say six? All 
 young, eh ? H'm. . . . How 
 comes it that you have produced 
 children so recklessly ? Well, 
 deacon, we will take the respon- 
 sibility on ourselves for the sake 
 of the children. Prepare your- 
 self for the morrow! " 
 
 ** Your reverence ! " exclaimed 
 Father Anton. He wished to 
 stretch out his hand, but at that 
 moment his head became giddy 
 and his strength failed him. The 
 bishop and the lay brother sup- 
 ported him. 
 
 " Ah, poor fellow ! " said the 
 bishop, feelingly, and shook his 
 head. " He must be encouraged. 
 As regards his wife, who knows, 
 God may lengthen her days ; but 
 if not ... In all things, His 
 will be done ! " he added, ad- 
 dressing the blagotshinii and the 
 lay brother, and retired, deeply 
 affected, to his study. " Ah, 
 indeed, such is life and its diffi- 
 culties ! " thought the bishop, 
 walking up and down his study,
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 1 25 
 
 nervously fingering his rosary; 
 " and we sit quietly in our rooms 
 ignorant of it all, having absolute 
 power over all this grey mass of 
 humanity. All we know of their 
 lives is by reports and petitions, 
 and through the representations 
 of the consistorium. I have been 
 torturing this poor man because 
 he could not sing in tune : it was 
 merely a caprice of mine ; and 
 all the while he has been suffer- 
 ing from such terrible misfortune 
 and assailed by such pressing 
 problems." At this moment the 
 bishop, moved to an outburst of 
 kindly feeling by the scene he 
 had just witnessed, experienced 
 a desire to see for himself how 
 the clergy under his control 
 really live, what hardships and 
 anxieties fall to the lot of these 
 humble deacons and sub-deacons, 
 weighed down by family troubles, 
 and ever dreaming of promotion. 
 Father Anton, on recovering 
 consciousness, slowly left the 
 episcopal palace. He was neither 
 in a state to rejoice or to
 
 126 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 lament. His feeble mind could 
 not thoroughly realise all the 
 various emotions which he had 
 experienced in the course of the 
 last two or three days. Terror 
 at handing the secretary the 
 envelope, the bright ray of hope 
 which followed the acceptation 
 of the same, the blagotshinii's 
 hospitable reception, the disap- 
 pointment which awaited him at 
 the consistorium, despair at his 
 wife's hopeless condition, the 
 struggle between the sentiments 
 of love for his wife and his duty 
 to his children, the scene in the 
 bishop's room, and the ceremony 
 to be performed on the morrow 
 all these various experiences 
 had come upon him so abruptly 
 that his thoughts and feelings 
 were now, for the moment, para- 
 lysed. He was to endure a 
 terrible calamity, in the loss of 
 his wife, simultaneously with the 
 greatest piece of good fortune 
 that he could ever look for the 
 attainment of the priestly dignity. 
 This indeed seemed almost a
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 1 27 
 
 supernatural coincidence of two 
 diametrically opposed feelings. 
 There is no greater calamity for 
 a person in the clerical profession 
 than the loss of his wife, especi- 
 ally if he loves her, as Anton 
 loved Nationka. Such a loss 
 implies solitude for the rest of 
 his days singleness for ever- 
 more, surrounded by the world 
 and its temptations, in a calling 
 which demands absolute integrity 
 of life. On the other hand, 
 priesthood is the highest aspira- 
 tion of such men as Anton, and 
 therefore its attainment is the 
 greatest good fortune which can 
 befal them. Both these ideas 
 came simultaneously into the 
 deacon's mind, and at this 
 moment he felt guilty in his 
 conduct towards Nationka. In 
 her dying moments she was un- 
 selfishly thinking only of the 
 future happiness of her husband 
 and children, and possibly endur- 
 ing terrible suspense at this very 
 instant, while he was thinking 
 about his career, and preparing
 
 128 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 himself for promotion. Not- 
 withstanding his efforts, Father 
 Anton completely failed to recon- 
 cile these two conflicting emo- 
 tions. Thus it was that for the 
 rest of the day, and during the 
 evening which he passed in 
 church trying in vain to attend 
 to the service, for he had to pre- 
 pare himself for the ceremony 
 of the next day, and all night 
 as he lay awake, and even 
 the following morning during the 
 celebration of mass when his 
 promotion was being accom- 
 plished, he remained in a state 
 of dull indifference and insensi- 
 bility. His heart ached intoler- 
 ably, his face was pale and his 
 eyes sunken. Even the bishop 
 standing at the altar remarked 
 his careworn face, and said to 
 him in a low tone 
 
 " Have courage, Anton ; think 
 not of earthly things I Remember 
 the office you are assuming ! " 
 
 But Father Anton could not 
 take courage, and remained till 
 the end of the mass in the same
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 1 29 
 
 semi - conscious state. When 
 the ceremony was over he ap- 
 proached the bishop and said, 
 joining his hands together, and 
 by this gesture requesting the 
 bishop's blessing 
 
 '* Your reverence, bless me, 
 and let me go home ! God will 
 repay you for your goodness ! " 
 
 The tone with which he uttered 
 these words expressed profound 
 sorrow and blind resignation to 
 fate. 
 
 " Go, Father Anton, go ! Your 
 case is a special one ! " said the 
 bishop, blessing him, making a 
 large sign of the cross over him. 
 
 Father Anton hastily took off 
 the priestly vestments which, 
 had circumstances been different, 
 he would have worn for the first 
 time with feelings of heartfelt 
 
 joy. 
 
 But he was in no mood for 
 rejoicing now. He hastened 
 from the church to the post- 
 station, where he demanded the 
 best horses they had, instantly, 
 as he, wished to perform the 
 9
 
 130 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 journey without a single stop- 
 page. He neither saw, nor 
 listened to what the postmaster 
 and driver said, but seated him- 
 self in the dilijan and implored 
 the yemstchik to lose no time. 
 This yemstchik was a good 
 fellow, and Father Anton gladly 
 gave him two roubles na vod- 
 kou. x The horses galloped along 
 at full speed through the mud 
 and over the holes in the road. 
 
 The narrow bed of the stream 
 flowing through Boutistchevka at 
 length came in sight, and beyond 
 it the house occupied by the 
 new proprietor, Skridloff. Father 
 Anton tried in vain to distinguish 
 his hut, but he could not see it ; 
 he felt that if only he could see 
 a little corner of it, he would 
 learn the whole truth. Thoughts 
 flashed through his mind one 
 after another. First he saw a 
 gloomy picture of death : Nati- 
 onka lying thin, yellow, and 
 cold ; all the children with 
 
 1 Drink money.
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 131 
 
 frightened looks silently hud- 
 dling themselves up in a corner 
 of the room, except Marinka, her 
 mother's favourite, who sadly 
 looked at Nationka's dead body 
 with her silent, thoughtful, big 
 eyes ; Douniasha was weeping, 
 her face anxiously turned 
 towards the window to see if 
 Anton was coming. The dea- 
 con's heart almost burst. A 
 minute later, all this seemed 
 absurd, impossible, and wild. 
 Why ? Why so soon ? Nationka 
 might get better, and live for 
 many years to come. With what 
 feelings of joy would she learn 
 that he had returned home a 
 priest ! He then felt sure that 
 this was so, and that it could 
 not be otherwise, and urged 
 the yemstchik to hurry on in 
 order to reassure Nationka. If 
 only she was still living, joy 
 might help to cure her of her 
 illness ! Now that he was a 
 priest he would certainly receive 
 an appointment as parish priest 
 somewhere ; he would have
 
 132 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 plenty to live upon, and would 
 educate the children. 
 
 They had now reached Skrid- 
 loff's house, and were driving 
 past his garden and a row of 
 earth huts. Anton now beheld 
 his stack yard ; and from behind 
 a straw stack he could see his 
 thatched roof. Douniasha is 
 running out to meet him. . . . 
 What news does she bring ? He 
 cannot contain himself; his heart 
 will break. 
 
 Stop! 
 
 The horses were suddenly 
 brought to a standstill ; he 
 jumped out of the dilijan. Douni- 
 asha let her head fall on his 
 breast and sobbed. . . . 
 
 " Nationka ? " asked he, in a 
 wild, imploring tone. 
 
 " She is no more, Antosha. . . . 
 She breathed her last in the 
 night ! . . . After you had 
 started, she seemed better. . . . 
 I thought she was easier. . . . 
 But suddenly blood flowed . . . 
 we could not stop it . . . and it 
 suffocated her, poor thing! . . .
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 1 33 
 
 She mentioned you at the last. 
 . . . Her last words were ' May 
 God help him to attain the 
 priesthood ! ' " 
 
 " And He has indeed helped 
 me. . . . But nothing could help 
 her. ... It is the Lord's holy 
 will ! " muttered Anton, wringing 
 his hands in despair, and looking 
 wildly at his sister. 
 
 He slowly entered his house 
 with the uneven gait of a man 
 who is utterly broken. When he 
 saw Nati6nka lying on the table, 
 half-covered with a cloth, her 
 head surrounded with a wreath 
 of flowers, and four candles 
 placed near the pillow on which 
 her wan, wasted head rested, he 
 fell down before her and prayed 
 her silently to forgive him for 
 his want of attention to her, and 
 for having attained the priestly 
 rank too late to be able to share 
 with her its advantage. 
 
 There were about twenty 
 people in the room, chiefly con- 
 sisting of peasant women, but 
 among others were Father Pan-
 
 134 A FATHER OF SIX. 
 
 kratii's daughter and his house- 
 keeper, Axini'a ; but when Father 
 Anton lifted his head he saw the 
 incumbent himself entering the 
 room, together with the clerk, 
 who was carrying the vestments 
 and the censer. 
 
 " Let us celebrate the re- 
 quiem ! " said Father Anton, in 
 a solemn voice. 
 
 " Let us ! " rejoined Father 
 Pankratii, putting on his riza. 1 
 
 The clerk handed Anton his 
 stichar, 2 but the latter shook his 
 head and said 
 
 " No, get me a riza. ... I 
 have this day been elevated to the 
 priesthood. . . . Ah, Nationka, 
 all I can offer you are my 
 prayers ! " exclaimed he in a 
 broken voice. 
 
 The children, with terrified 
 expressions on their faces, looked 
 in at the door, and Marinka 
 stood beside her mother gazing 
 earnestly, with her large melan- 
 
 1 Chasuble, or cope worn by priests. 
 3 Alb, or deacon's vestment.
 
 A FATHER OF SIX. 1 35 
 
 choly eyes, at her earthly remains. 
 The clerk ran back to the 
 church to fetch a riza for Father 
 Anton. All looked at him in 
 astonishment as he put it on. 
 The smoke from the censor per- 
 vaded the room. The requiem 
 mass had begun.
 
 AN OCCASIONAL 
 HOLIDAY. 
 
 I. 
 
 THE village of KramarieVka 
 lies in a remote corner of 
 
 the province of Kh and is 
 
 surrounded by treeless steppes. 
 The huts composing it are scat- 
 tered along the banks of an 
 extensive lake or backwater, fed 
 by the river Dnieper. This 
 village, the property of a land- 
 owner in times gone by, now 
 enjoys entire liberty. It's 
 emancipation from serfdom is 
 eloquently attested by half-ruined 
 huts whose sloping walls are 
 supported by means of wooden 
 props. Empty barns and thresh- 
 ing floors, whose surfaces cannot 
 be swept clean for the simple
 
 138 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 reason that they are grown over 
 thick with thistles and weeds, 
 bear further witness to liberty, 
 to that true liberty which, as is 
 well known, always exists side 
 by side with desperate poverty. 
 
 For the last three days the 
 prospects of the villagers had 
 been looking up. The heavy 
 rain-clouds, which for several 
 weeks in succession had been 
 hanging over the land and 
 ceaselessly pouring showers of 
 rain upon the fields already 
 saturated with moisture, now 
 crossed the blue sky at less 
 frequent intervals, and these, as 
 if unable to endure the sun's 
 bright rays, were hurrying away 
 to hide themselves beneath the 
 horizon. An oppressive feeling 
 pervaded the air, the intensity 
 of the sun's heat was suggestive 
 of the dog-days rather than of 
 May. Apparently the sun was 
 desirous of atoning to the 
 dwellers in Kramarievka for his 
 long absence, and of making up 
 for lost time by drying the fields
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 1 39 
 
 and thereby enabling the peasant 
 to commence the hay-harvest. 
 What splendid grass had grown 
 during these last three weeks, to 
 be sure ! It was as tall and thick 
 as layer grass. Such a crop had 
 not been seen by the peasants 
 of Kramarivka for many a long 
 year ; it was to be hoped that 
 the weather would hold up 
 during the time required for 
 the cutting and carting of 
 it, for a premature return of the 
 late diluvial storms would spoil 
 the hay and render the peasants' 
 labour fruitless a worse cata- 
 strophe than if there had never 
 been a prospect of a good crop. 
 The rye crop also promised well; 
 the green blades reared their 
 heads tall and proud as autumn 
 rushes ; already the ears were 
 forming, and the sun's warm 
 rays would bring them to 
 maturity. Joyous days were 
 in store for the peasants if only 
 God would send fine weather 
 and preserve them from the 
 ravages of the grasshopper.
 
 140 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 This question of the harvest had 
 become a serious matter. For 
 six years running the moujiks 
 had scarcely done more than 
 reap that which they had sown. 
 But, notwithstanding these 
 failures, their sanguine natures 
 urged them to renew their 
 efforts at gaining a livelihood 
 from the niggardly soil. With 
 the desperation of savages they 
 would deprive their starving 
 children of the last morsels of 
 bread in order to sow the land 
 and reap, the following summer, 
 a fresh harvest of disappointment 
 as the fruit of their labour. 
 Many had at length abandoned 
 their agricultural pursuits in 
 disgust, and had set out in des- 
 peration, God knows whither, to 
 begin life afresh elsewhere. Some, 
 with hearts embittered, had aban- 
 doned the hateful, relentless land, 
 and, throwing in their lot with 
 fishermen, had for ever separated 
 themselves from husbandry ; 
 others wandered aimlessly into 
 distant inhospitable parts, but
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 141 
 
 were unable to keep away for 
 long from their barren native 
 soil. Half-starved and in rags, 
 they returned home and poured 
 forth lamentations over their 
 allotments grown over, long 
 since, with spear-grass, for that 
 they possessed no sokha x where- 
 with to propitiate the cruel 
 heart of their stepmother land, 
 nor grain wherewith to bring 
 her fresh sacrifices. Once upon 
 a time the land had been own 
 mother to the peasant, but of 
 late years it had become step- 
 mother. 
 
 An intolerable noise was going 
 on in the yard of the bdtioush- 
 ka's parsonage. For five 
 hundred yards around, the shrill 
 tones of a woman's voice, ac- 
 companied at intervals by a 
 male voice, the latter somewhat 
 more subdued in pitch, could be 
 heard. One of the persons 
 engaged in this controversy was 
 
 1 A sort of wooden plough used by 
 the peasant.
 
 142 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 the matoushka Agraphiena Ivan- 
 ovna that self-same matoushka 
 whose name the village women 
 used in order to terrorise their 
 children when the latter mis- 
 behaved themselves. " I'll take 
 you to the popadyd 2 in a minute, 
 and she'll eat you alive," a 
 threat which as a rule had the 
 desired effect ; the other person 
 was her man-servant, Artem, 
 a personage by no means so 
 well-known as his mistress, but 
 who nevertheless enjoyed a 
 certain degree of popularity in 
 the village. The matoushka was 
 standing near a barn where the 
 oats were stored, drawn up to 
 her full height in the attitude 
 of a person prepared to make 
 a violent onslaught. Her blood- 
 shot eyes seemed to start from 
 their orbits with fury, her thin 
 angular face wore an expression 
 of deadly hatred ; the matoushka 
 appeared to be out of her mind 
 with rage. At such moments 
 
 2 Another name for the priesf s wife.
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 1 43 
 
 her expression would have fur- 
 nished an admirable model for 
 an artist who desired to represent 
 a personification of fury. Artem 
 was standing in the barn beside 
 a bin half-filled with oats in the 
 traditional attitude of a man 
 conscious of his shortcomings. 
 In his left hand he held a quarter- 
 peck measure filled with corn, 
 and his cap, which he had taken 
 off out of respect for his mis- 
 tress, hastily squeezed between 
 his fingers ; his right hand was 
 employed scratching the back of 
 his head, a sure sign of an 
 uneasy conscience. His head 
 was hung down, and his eyes ap- 
 parently strove to penetrate the 
 oats and gaze on the bottom of 
 the bin. 
 
 " Well, of course I know that 
 the horses are not mine but 
 yours ; I only look after them 
 for you," said Artem, trying as 
 far as possible not to betray 
 any excitement. 
 
 " I only look after them for you, 
 indeed!" repeated the matoushka,
 
 144 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 trying to mimic her servant's 
 voice, fully assured that she 
 would succeed in so doing by 
 speaking in a gruffer tone 
 a performance, however, which 
 totally failed in producing any 
 effect. " We know very well how 
 you look after your master's 
 property. You destroy it instead 
 of taking care of it ! Christ 
 is not with you ; you are a 
 man with no conscience ! You 
 imagine that I don't know 
 what becomes of all this corn ; 
 you think that I am quite satis- 
 fied that you feed the horses 
 three times a day ? And what 
 about the kabak ? And what 
 is it that you squander in the 
 kabak but your master's pro- 
 perty ? And then there are 
 those little devils of yours got 
 to be kept alive. O Lord ! how 
 hardly used I am ! Wherefore 
 dost Thou punish me thus ? " 
 
 This hardly-used person, re- 
 ceiving no answer to her in- 
 teresting question, banged the 
 door of the shed, adding em-
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 1 45 
 
 phatically, " Be hanged to you 
 all!" as she disappeared into the 
 house. The man remained 
 standing by the corn-bin in 
 his former attitude. Then he 
 suddenly flung his peck measure 
 on one side, straightened himself 
 up, and gave vent to his pent-up 
 feelings. His ire, no longer to 
 be restrained, boiled up and 
 showed itself on his swarthy, 
 hairy countenance, his dark 
 eyes glittered with wrath, and 
 his fists were clenched. 
 
 " Be hanged to you, you old 
 hag ! " he almost groaned out 
 between his teeth. . . . But 
 then, as though suddenly re- 
 membering something, his fists 
 became unclenched, and he 
 thought of his hopelessly weak, 
 wretched position ; what did his 
 curses signify to her ! What 
 was he ? Had he not been 
 taken on by his present em- 
 ployers almost as an act of 
 charity : could he forget how he 
 had implored them on his knees 
 to take him on at a miserable 
 10
 
 146 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 salary ? Of a truth his position 
 came as near to slavery as could 
 be. No, Artem, you will do 
 best to calm yourself, for to- 
 morrow you may be kicked out, 
 and then you will have nothing 
 to take home to your four little 
 children " young devils," as 
 the matoushka calls them, who, 
 as it is, are crying from hunger ! 
 Artem's wrath therefore evapo- 
 rated, and he quietly went into 
 the stable. He fondly stroked 
 both the horses in turn ; they 
 turned their heads round and 
 seemed to look at him in a 
 friendly way. " Well, I am 
 not allowed to spoil you, my 
 dears," muttered Artem, ad- 
 dressing his horses. " Ah, my 
 little horses ! I love you, al- 
 though you do belong to the 
 pope," and meanwhile he con- 
 tinued stroking the horses' shiny 
 coats. 
 
 The matSushka returned to her 
 room completely overcome. One 
 might verily have believed that 
 she was an unfortunate being,
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 147 
 
 condemned by God Himself to 
 a life of martyrdom : her face, 
 that of a sufferer tortured, goaded, 
 insulted without cause, was 
 overspread with pallor, the blue 
 lines of the overcharged veins 
 stood out on her temples, her 
 lips quivered nervously and 
 seemed to be muttering abusive 
 words, her thin hair straggled in 
 disordered locks from underneath 
 the cotton handkerchief which 
 she wore on her head. Truly 
 she was suffering, but it was not 
 hard to see that her trouble was 
 due to nothing but ill-temper. 
 Notwithstanding her husband, to 
 whom she had been married 
 more than fifteen years, she felt 
 a sense of loneliness and com- 
 plete isolation. Father Leo was 
 a mere child who required care- 
 ful looking after : a person 
 thoroughly unfit to be relied 
 upon under any circumstances. 
 His sole aspirations in life 
 consisted of a taste for good 
 eating and an aptitude for 
 refreshing slumber. At this
 
 148 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 very moment he was lying on 
 the sofa in his study, his lion- 
 like mane straggling over his 
 flabby countenance, and was 
 wrapped in entrancing sleep. 
 Everything fell on her shoulders 
 in the management of domestic 
 affairs, and he counted for abso- 
 lutely nothing. In the face of 
 such facts, could any one deny 
 that she was a martyr ? 
 
 And pale-faced Agrafena Ivan- 
 ovna very nearly wept from ill- 
 temper.
 
 II. 
 
 ARTEM was fond of the 
 priest's horses. This was 
 perhaps because he himself had 
 been the proprietor of a similar 
 pair, not so very long ago. Nor 
 was this all : he had lived in 
 easy circumstances. Besides a 
 pair of fine, well-fed oxen, he had 
 owned a score of sheep, cows, 
 pigs, and poultry ; he had stored 
 away grain, both barley and 
 oats, in his own barn, and had 
 partaken of substantial bosrtch l 
 mixed with kasha 2 and dripping, 
 at his own oak table, in his own 
 house. His neat little wife 
 Nastia used to keep house for 
 him. 
 
 1 A kind of soup. 
 2 Buckwheat gruel.
 
 150 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 Maxim Klad'ko,Artem's father, 
 had handed him over a consider- 
 able amount of property at the 
 time of his son's wedding. " See 
 you, my son," said the old man 
 to him then, " that you manage 
 your affairs aright. Don't you 
 squander your forefathers' pro- 
 perty. Never let down the good 
 name of your ancestors and 
 father. The Klad'ko family 
 were always good farmers." 
 
 Artem kept up the family 
 reputation, and for six years 
 laboured upon his allotment, 
 sowing corn and barley and 
 scarcely reaping what he sowed. 
 Nor was he alone in his misfor- 
 tunes in this matter, the whole 
 peasantry of the district suffered 
 from similar misfortunes. And 
 so each year some portion of 
 Artem's stock-in-trade vanished. 
 At first it was the sheep that 
 had to be sold, then the oxen, 
 then the horses. The loss of 
 the cows was a terrible blow. 
 Artem had by this time a family 
 to support, and the children
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 151 
 
 could not do without milk. He 
 really had to keep back one cow 
 from the sale ; but then came 
 winter, cold, hungry winter, and 
 the cow disappeared the winter 
 had finished her off. Artem 
 looked around him and saw that 
 everything was bare, that the 
 very last trace of his father's 
 property had vanished, that his 
 wife was pining away, and that 
 his children were clamouring for 
 food. Artem 's father was long 
 since dead, and there was no one 
 to whom he could apply for help. 
 One resource only remained to 
 go out as a hired labourer and 
 earn sufficient to support his wife 
 and children through the winter. 
 Reviewing his position in the 
 world, Artem saw that he was a 
 different man to what he had 
 been. He had grown up igno- 
 rant of want ; his handsome, 
 healthy countenance expressed 
 self-reliance and contentment ; 
 his sturdy, muscular arms never 
 flagged at work ; all jobs that 
 came into his hands soon got
 
 154 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 paid for such a distinctive honour. 
 Now, of course, things would be 
 on quite a different footing. He 
 would scarcely be invited to par- 
 take of tea with them, nor would 
 any mention be made of the 
 wheat. He was then known as 
 Artem Maximovitch, but now it 
 was to be feared his name would 
 be converted into Artemka. On 
 presenting himself at the house, 
 the bdtioushka did not come out 
 to see Artem, his corpulency 
 prevented him from troubling 
 himself with domestic matters ; 
 his energies were devoted entirely 
 to questions concerning diet and 
 rest. The matoushka managed 
 all business affairs, and she it 
 was who interviewed Artem. At 
 first she did not even recog- 
 nise him, and asked what his 
 name was. Maxim Klad'ko's 
 son modestly recalled the occa- 
 sion when he had drunk tea at 
 her house. She then remem- 
 bered, and expressed surprise 
 that he had so come down in the 
 world, and feared that he had
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 1 55 
 
 not managed to keep up the pro- 
 perty left him by his father. To 
 this Artem made no reply, but 
 came straight to the point. He 
 asked only for the miserable 
 salary of sixty roubles per annum. 
 Before starting on his errand, he 
 had reckoned that with sixty 
 roubles he would be able to buy 
 a yoke of oxen, and thereby per- 
 chance set his affairs aright 
 again. In addition to this, he 
 stipulated that rye biscuits should 
 be provided for the maintenance 
 of his family. The matoushka was 
 horrified at the sum demanded, 
 and expressed her opinion 
 that he must have lost his 
 senses. At a time when scores 
 of people were willing to work 
 for nothing, he dared to ask for 
 the exorbitant wage of sixty 
 roubles : perhaps he thought he 
 had to do with a fool : or maybe 
 that she was already known 
 throughout the village as a luna- 
 tic ; or did he perchance suppose 
 that money fell from the heavens 
 into the pope's pocket ? Artem,
 
 154 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 paid for such a distinctive honour. 
 Now, of course, things would be 
 on quite a different footing. He 
 would scarcely be invited to par- 
 take of tea with them, nor would 
 any mention be made of the 
 wheat. He was then known as 
 Artem Maximovitch, but now it 
 was to be feared his name would 
 be converted into Artemka. On 
 presenting himself at the house, 
 the bdtioushka did not come out 
 to see Artem, his corpulency 
 prevented him from troubling 
 himself with domestic matters ; 
 his energies were devoted entirely 
 to questions concerning diet and 
 rest. The matoushka managed 
 all business affairs, and she it 
 was who interviewed Artem. At 
 first she did not even recog- 
 nise him, and asked what his 
 name was. Maxim Klad'ko's 
 son modestly recalled the occa- 
 sion when he had drunk tea at 
 her house. She then remem- 
 bered, and expressed surprise 
 that he had so come down in the 
 world, and feared that he had
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 1 55 
 
 not managed to keep up the pro- 
 perty left him by his father. To 
 this Artem made no reply, but 
 came straight to the point. He 
 asked only for the miserable 
 salary of sixty roubles per annum. 
 Before starting on his errand, he 
 had reckoned that with sixty 
 roubles he would be able to buy 
 a yoke of oxen, and thereby per- 
 chance set his affairs aright 
 again. In addition to this, he 
 stipulated that rye biscuits should 
 be provided for the maintenance 
 of his family. The matoushka was 
 horrified at the sum demanded, 
 and expressed her opinion 
 that he must have lost his 
 senses. At a time when scores 
 of people were willing to work 
 for nothing, he dared to ask for 
 the exorbitant wage of sixty 
 roubles : perhaps he thought he 
 had to do with a fool : or maybe 
 that she was already known 
 throughout the village as a luna- 
 tic ; or did he perchance suppose 
 that money fell from the heavens 
 into the pope's pocket ? Artem,
 
 156 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 as a matter of fact, supposed 
 none of these things, and merely 
 wished to point out that there was 
 a considerable difference between 
 engagingany chance labourer, and 
 a well known proprietor who was 
 in uneasy circumstances. But 
 this argument failed to impress 
 the matoushka, and the situation 
 was offered to him for the bis- 
 cuits only, and a coat for the 
 winter. Well does Artem re- 
 member the scene that fol- 
 lowed. 
 
 " Matoushka ! " said Artem, en- 
 treating her to listen to him, " if 
 it were for my sake only, if I had 
 not a wife and young children, if 
 these children were not crying 
 for food do you think I would 
 bargain with you thus ? I would 
 work for you for my bread, for 
 the husks of corn. But as I am 
 a father, and have got to keep 
 my family alive " 
 
 Artem said this in such a tone 
 of voice that had he been address- 
 ing a person with any heart, 
 instead of the matoushka, he
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 157 
 
 would most certainly have 
 touched that heart. 
 
 " What is the use of your com- 
 ing to me with this tale ? " mut- 
 tered the matoushka, as if she 
 had never been possessed of a 
 heart in her life. " Do you ima- 
 gine that it is my fault that you 
 have a wife and children ? Am 
 I to feed your children for you ? 
 I have plenty to do without 
 them. What is it to me if they 
 are crying for food ? Maybe 
 there are others also in the world 
 who are hungry ! There are 
 generally plenty such ! Do you 
 suppose that I am going to feed 
 them all?" 
 
 " Matoushka ! I am not begging 
 
 for alms. I offer to work for you 
 
 as hard as I did for myself, and 
 
 will look after your property 
 
 as though it were my own. 
 > 
 
 " Ah, indeed ! I beg of you 
 that you will not do that ! We 
 all know how you have managed 
 to look after your own property, 
 and now you want to manage
 
 158 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 mine. What has become of your 
 property, pray ? " 
 
 At this the matoushka laughed 
 ill-naturedly. 
 
 " Ah, but it was God, it was 
 God who took it away from me ! 
 For these six years the crops have 
 failed from drought and blight. 
 Oh Lord, my God ! Have I not 
 slaved as hard as a pair of oxen ? 
 Is not my back nearly broken 
 with fatigue ? " 
 
 Artem by this time was in 
 tears. He could no longer re- 
 strain himself now that his mis- 
 fortunes were cast in his teeth. 
 Had he squandered his property ? 
 Had he not always been a model 
 proprietor ? He had never 
 allowed himself to be idle for a 
 moment. He was at that time 
 healthy and strong, and being 
 endowed with an abundance of 
 vigour, he worked from early 
 dawn till late at night. He had 
 earned for himself the name 
 of schoustri khosydin. 1 He was 
 
 1 Industrious proprietor.
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 1 59 
 
 told that he was as good a man 
 as his father, and great things 
 were predicted for him in the 
 future. But these optimistic 
 prophecies were never fulfilled, 
 everything went wrong, and now 
 he was accused of carelessness, 
 of incapacity to preserve the pro- 
 perty handed down to him. A 
 more cruel reproach than this it 
 would be difficult to imagine. 
 But Artem soon stopped weeping. 
 It suddenly occurred to him that 
 he was in the presence of a 
 brute who would never be moved 
 to pity by tears. In an instant 
 he changed his attitude and be- 
 came, like his opponent, brutal. 
 
 " Well, look here : forty roubles 
 and biscuits ! I will not take a 
 penny less. Take it or leave it, 
 please yourself. Good-bye ! " 
 
 With this he abruptly turned 
 his back on her and went away. 
 He mentally resolved not to 
 remain in the matoushka's em- 
 ployment even if she agreed to 
 his terms. He felt that after 
 the humiliation he had suffered,
 
 160 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 it would be disgraceful to accept 
 anything from her. He set off 
 with rapid steps to return to his 
 hut. His mind was in a dazed 
 condition. He was unable to 
 think about his plans or collect 
 his ideas. His heart was heavy 
 with despair. Had he found 
 himself at that moment standing 
 on the summit of a rocky cliff, 
 overlooking a swift deep stream 
 fringed with tender green rushes, 
 he would not have hesitated for 
 an instant, but would certainly 
 have hurled himself head fore- 
 most into the abyss. This would 
 be easier accomplished than the 
 return home empty-handed, and 
 the inevitable confession to be 
 made to his starving family that 
 he had found nothing wherewith 
 to satisfy their gnawing hunger. 
 Anyway, they were not as yet 
 plunged in despair, whereas his 
 arrival home must dispel the 
 last rays of hope. Presently, 
 however, Artem became aware 
 that some one was running after 
 him, and he heard the matoushka's
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. l6l 
 
 voice. The priest's wife, satisfied 
 that he would make no further 
 abatement in his demands, had 
 decided to agree to the terms he 
 proposed. She was well aware 
 that Artem might be exceedingly 
 useful to her, that he was no 
 mere adventurer, but a respec- 
 table person, well known in the 
 village. Artem's first impulse 
 was to take no notice of the 
 matoushka, but as there seemed 
 to be no other alternative, he 
 agreed to enter her service. 
 
 "She exasperates and breaks 
 me, I know it," thought he, but 
 nevertheless he stayed on with 
 her. This winter had been a 
 terrible one for poor Artem. 
 Formerly he was his own master 
 and knew well what it meant to 
 work on his own account. It 
 meant constant work, never sit- 
 ting idle, but it meant also 
 husbanding his strength for the 
 morrow, as well as for the spring 
 and the summer. Here it was 
 different. The matoushka wanted 
 his strength for the present, for 
 II
 
 1 62 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 just so long as he would remain 
 in her service ; Artem was, she 
 reckoned, good for one year, and 
 it was just for one year that she 
 required his services. When the 
 term agreed for had expired she 
 could get another man a fresh 
 one. She did not care for keep- 
 ing servants too long, and under- 
 stood the art of extracting all 
 the work they were good for in 
 a twelvemonth. Her penetra- 
 ting gaze followed her servant 
 every minute, ever on the alert 
 lest he should be without a job 
 for one instant. She could 
 always, if necessary, invent fresh 
 occupation ; her ingenuity in 
 this matter seemed inexhaus- 
 tible. Such duties as, for ex- 
 ample, going down to the stream 
 in frosty weather to collect 
 rushes and bringing them back 
 on the sledge ; or sweeping the 
 snow fallen during the previous 
 night from the yard ; hacking 
 out lumps of ice from the river, 
 and carting them home to store 
 in the icehouse, should be per-
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 1 63 
 
 formed by the workman without 
 his having to be reminded about 
 them. But supposing a spare 
 half-hour cropped up between 
 the performance of the daily 
 duties, the matoushka forthwith 
 devised some fresh occupation. 
 If, at a given moment, there 
 chanced to be no regular work 
 to hand, she would invent some- 
 thing perfectly superfluous ; but 
 sitting with idle hands could be 
 in nowise tolerated this was her 
 fixed principle. In such a case 
 she would order that the beds in 
 the kitchen garden, frozen as 
 hard as rock, be dug over; or 
 she would transform the work- 
 man into cook, making him 
 carry fuel into the kitchen, and 
 place it on the hearth, or else 
 cut up meat, or knead the dough. 
 In fact, " idleness " i.e., neces- 
 sary breathing-space was not 
 allowed in her establishment. 
 
 This all mattered but little to 
 Artem. He knew the matoushka 
 very well, and when he entered 
 into the agreement with her he
 
 164 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 understood that he was entering 
 upon a dire servitude, and that 
 for the space of a year he would 
 have to give all his strength 
 without reserve to his mistress. 
 But what he did not foresee 
 was that in his new situation 
 his every movement would be 
 accompanied by remarks which 
 wounded his self-respect as a 
 proprietor on his own account, 
 which, as he knew, had been so 
 highly estimated not long since 
 by the whole village. The priest's 
 wife looked upon her servants 
 as her deadly enemies. She 
 imagined herself encompassed at 
 every turn by evil-minded con- 
 spirators, who sought only how 
 to bring about her ruin. At 
 times she suspected that Artem 
 only did any work when her eye 
 was upon him, and that he slept 
 the remainder of his time ; that 
 he stole half the horse-corn and 
 took it to the kabak; that, con- 
 spiring with the cook, Artem 
 carried away jugs full of milk to 
 his wife, and occasionally pieces
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 1 65 
 
 of roast meat, cooked for the 
 matoushka's own table. Her eye- 
 sight seemed to be organised on 
 principles quite peculiar to her- 
 self, for while it magnified the 
 value paid by her to her servants, 
 it seemed incapable of realising 
 how it was that they possessed 
 anything. Thus, when Artem 
 took a peck of oats into the 
 stables, the matoushka would 
 come in before long and begin 
 fumbling in the manger. She 
 would then become furious. 
 
 "Ah, I thought so ! You are 
 at it already ! Was that a peck 
 you gave the horses ? You mean 
 to tell me that it was a peck ? 
 You shameless fellow ! You 
 steal in broad daylight ! Yes, 
 I know it well ; I am simply 
 being robbed, shamelessly robbed! 
 I shall have nothing left me 
 before long ! What thievish 
 cunning ! You've managed to 
 stow it away already somewhere. 
 And so you want to set your 
 affairs straight, do you ? Yes, 
 and you will soon do it at this
 
 1 66 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 rate ! You will soon be a squire 
 if you go on like this ! Where- 
 abouts in your establishment is 
 the snug little corner where you 
 stow away all the stolen goods ? 
 Yes, I should like to know 
 where it is ! I doubt not that 
 there are plenty of good things 
 there ! I should open a shop ! 
 Do you think that it's all going 
 to do you any good ? Not a bit 
 of it ! Stolen goods never do 
 any one any good ! " &c, &c. 
 
 And so the matoushkas imagi- 
 nation continued to magnify the 
 picture, until it assumed propor- 
 tions and colouring altogether 
 beyond the range of probability. 
 She saw herself finally stripped 
 of all her property, and wander- 
 ing over the face of the earth an 
 outcast. And thus she wanders 
 from hut to hut, a bag in her 
 hands, demanding alms in 
 Christ's name. In the fore- 
 ground is Artem surrounded by 
 a flourishing family, making his 
 fortune at a fabulous rate ; his 
 affairs have prospered, his wife
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 1 67 
 
 grown stout, like one of the 
 matoushka's fat pigs ; his children 
 are proportionately fat for their 
 ages, and unable to move from 
 one place to another, &c. In 
 fact, that Artem was realising 
 to the utmost, the matoushka's 
 own ideal of success in life. 
 
 The priest's wife never missed 
 a chance of conjuring up such- 
 like fantastic pictures in her 
 mind. The chief share of accu- 
 sations fell on Artem's shoulders, 
 because his family was dependent 
 upon him, which was, according 
 to the matoushka's reasoning, an 
 incentive to theft. 
 
 What specially enraged the 
 matoushka more than anything 
 else was to be answered. She 
 expected that her torrents of 
 abusive language would be 
 listened to with befitting silence 
 and even with gratitude. 
 
 During the winter months she 
 gave her servants the cheapest 
 possible sort of food. They 
 occasionally had to be content 
 with rye biscuits and kvass, or
 
 1 68 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 sour cabbage, or herrings, which 
 were given by the parishioners 
 as freewill offerings to the priest, 
 and which therefore cost the 
 matoushka nothing. More than 
 once a protest was raised in the 
 kitchen against such fare, and 
 the right to hot dishes was 
 claimed, and Artem even ven- 
 tured to suggest that a glass of 
 vodka would not be amiss as a 
 recompense for his labours. The 
 just indignation of the matoushka 
 at such proposals was a thing to 
 be seen. 
 
 " I feed you badly, do I ? And 
 what did you get at home, I 
 should like to know ? You had 
 to make shift with peeled barley 
 mixed with sand. And you were 
 ready to sell your souls for a 
 rotten herring. In my house 
 you are growing fat, and yet 
 you clamour for more. You can 
 just clear out of it, all of you, if 
 you don't like it. I am not going 
 to stand on any ceremony with 
 you. Why, there's Michael 
 Zabara longing to enter my
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 1 69 
 
 service, one-eyed Feodka im- 
 plores me by heaven to take 
 him on for his keep alone, and 
 Palashka Fedotikhina by no 
 means a bad girl is ready to 
 come to me at any moment. 
 Yes, there are plenty of them, 
 indeed. You can all go your 
 ways if you like, and beg your 
 bread. You had better go and 
 found a colony of beggars ! Ah, 
 you have come to your senses 
 now, you shameless people ! 
 You do not know your true 
 value ! You are worth about a 
 halfpenny. That's what I think 
 of you. . . ." 
 
 The matoushka expressed her- 
 self even more forcibly than this, 
 and the inhabitants of the kitchen 
 were reduced to silence. Each 
 of them really believed that their 
 mistress would think nothing of 
 turning them out then and there 
 without wages. But as soon as 
 the matoushka s back was turned, 
 the servants would all repeat, as 
 though with one consent, the 
 following words :
 
 170 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 " May you never prosper, 
 either in this world or in the 
 next, you thrice cursed extor- 
 tioner." 
 
 This was the state of affairs in 
 the bdtioushka's household towards 
 the beginning of spring.
 
 III. 
 
 HI, you there, Matriona ! 
 You must get up earlier 
 to-morrow morning, at two 
 o'clock ! No more idling in bed 
 till four o'clock. I want you to 
 go to work in the fields with 
 Artem." 
 
 These words were addressed 
 by the matoushka to her servant, 
 Matriona, just as the latter was 
 retiring for the night. It was 
 already eleven o'clock a very 
 late hour according to rustic 
 notions. Matriona had only just 
 finished cleaning up the crockery 
 and feeding her mistress's two 
 pet dogs animals of doubtful 
 pedigree and she was so worn- 
 out with fatigue that she could 
 scarcely keep on her legs. As a
 
 172 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 matter of fact she was already 
 half asleep, her senses were 
 dulled with weariness and her 
 eyelids heavy. But the matoush- 
 ka's orders made her start up, 
 and she opened her big eyes 
 wide, and fixed them in astonish- 
 ment upon her mistress. The 
 thought at once occurred to her 
 that she had entered the matoush- 
 ka's service as housemaid, it being 
 understood that she was only to 
 undertake indoor work. By what 
 right, then, was she suddenly to 
 be ordered out to work in the 
 fields ? Although Matriona made 
 no remark in reply, the penetra- 
 ting gaze of the matoushka was 
 able to perceive the train of 
 reasoning which was going on in 
 her servant's mind. 
 
 " Well, what do you stand 
 staring there like an owl for ? 
 Maybe you don't wish to get up, 
 eh ? You like to stay in your 
 warm, comfortable bed ? Hand- 
 ling the rake, perhaps, seems to 
 you hard work. You think that 
 a housemaid is not called upon
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 1 73 
 
 to do field work. Is that it ? 
 Very well, you just try it on ! 
 Mind that out you go, if you dis- 
 obey me, and never let me see 
 your face again ! Do you under- 
 stand me ? Go along ! And take 
 care that I do not find you asleep 
 out in the field, for I know your 
 idle ways ! You are always on 
 the look out for an opportunity 
 of getting under the cart and 
 snoring ! " 
 
 Matriona answered nothing, 
 but wearily went on her way to 
 bed. 
 
 On the following day, before 
 the first rays of dawn had ap- 
 peared, a cart drawn by two 
 horses, containing a scythe and 
 hay-rakes, left the gates of the 
 bdtioushka's yard. In it were 
 seated Artem and Matriona. 
 Artem looked fresh and well. 
 He was accustomed to getting 
 up in the middle of the night in 
 order to see if the horses wanted 
 feeding ; Matriona still appeared 
 to be half asleep, for it was not 
 more than two o'clock in the
 
 174 A N OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 morning. The road leading 
 through the village was en- 
 shrouded in mist which covered 
 the roofs of the huts, the narrow 
 stream, and the church belfry. 
 Here and there in the vault of 
 the skies, stars were faintly 
 shining through the mist ; as 
 though sensible of the approach 
 of dawn, the blackness of the 
 night became more intense than 
 ever ; the two horses pricked 
 up their ears as they timidly 
 advanced along the dark road. 
 The fresh breeze of dawn satu- 
 rated with moisture was blowing; 
 cocks were crowing in the yards 
 of the peasants, and their owners 
 were just beginning to think 
 about getting up. 
 
 " Whose cart and horses can 
 that be, I wonder, going out so 
 early to work ? " asked a moujik, 
 rubbing his eyes heavy with sleep. 
 
 " It must be the priest's, I 
 suppose," answered his wife. 
 
 " Busy folks, the priest's ser- 
 vants, to be up so early ! " re- 
 marked the moujik.
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 1 75 
 
 " Ah, and you'd be busy too if 
 you were compelled to work for 
 that cursed hag," thought Artem, 
 as he passed by. Matriona heard 
 nothing of these remarks, she 
 was lying in the bottom of the 
 cart fast asleep. 
 
 The village was at length left 
 behind, and the cart turned into 
 the fields. The darkness gradu- 
 ally became less intense, the 
 stars twinkled more faintly, and 
 a streak of dawn appeared. The 
 pale light revealed grassy plains 
 as far as the eye could reach. 
 The morning breeze softly swept 
 over the thick green grass. 
 Artem looked at the scene around 
 him, and his face seemed to light 
 up with pleasure. It was a long 
 time since he had seen such a 
 pleasant picture. The thick green 
 grass promised an abundant hay 
 crop, such as the dwellers in 
 Kramarievka had longed for for 
 many a year. The rye was half 
 a foot high. The spring wheat, 
 barley, and oats were sprouting 
 in a most promising manner.
 
 176 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 " God forbid that the crops 
 should be burnt up by drought, 
 or that locusts, hail, or other 
 pestilences should destroy them ! 
 What rejoicings there will then 
 be among the peasants ! " mut- 
 tered Artem to himself, glancing 
 around at the boundless steppes, 
 and devoutly making the sign of 
 the cross. The thought of the 
 good time coming brought joy to 
 Artem's heart, but an instant 
 later his brow became furrowed. 
 Thoughts suddenly occurred to 
 him which filled his heart with 
 inexpressible anguish, and he 
 hung down his head and ceased 
 admiring the lovely landscape 
 that lay before his eyes. He 
 remembered that it would be 
 impossible for him to take any 
 part in the coming rejoicings, 
 that he would have to look 
 on as a mere outsider at the 
 good fortune of others. For five 
 years he had sown the land, and 
 had run through all his fortune ; 
 the sixth year, when he had 
 become a beggar and thrown up
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 1 77 
 
 his business, having nothing 
 wherewith to sow his crops, as 
 though purposely, God had sent 
 this good fortune to men. Such 
 reflections caused feelings of 
 jealousy and hatred to enter his 
 mind. Jealousy is said to be a 
 sin. But seeing God had wronged 
 him, how could he help feeling 
 thus ? 
 
 What a fine crop of hay there 
 was on the glebe land ! How 
 thick and green it had grown ! 
 It was a pleasure to see such 
 grass ! The sun was by this time 
 fully risen, the larks were flying 
 about, a seagull hovering over 
 the plain had disappeared from 
 sight a minute later. Artem set 
 to work with his scythe in a half- 
 hearted manner, Matriona follow- 
 ing him with her rake in a 
 leisurely fashion. Bordering on 
 the glebe land lay the fields 
 belonging to the squire, which 
 extended in all directions for a 
 considerable distance and occu- 
 pied about twenty-five thousand 
 acres. Not far from where 
 12
 
 178 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 Artem was at work, a large 
 party of labourers were engaged 
 in mowing the grass on the 
 squire's land. These all had 
 sunburnt faces and wore home- 
 made hats of barley straw, shirts 
 well patched, and baggy trousers 
 of variegated patterns. They 
 were followed by women and 
 young girls dressed in gaudy- 
 coloured petticoats. Artem 
 could tell by the snatches of 
 conversation which he heard, 
 that these people came from the 
 province of Poltava, and leaning 
 for a moment on the handles of 
 his scythe, he addressed the man 
 who was nearest to him 
 
 u You are strangers here, I 
 expect ? " asked he, resuming 
 his work with the scythe. 
 
 " Yes, we are Poltavtsi, all of 
 us," answered the young fellow 
 to whom the question was ad- 
 dressed, stopping work for a 
 moment. 
 
 " Why have you come to these 
 parts ? " 
 
 " Ah, you may well ask why,"
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 1 79 
 
 answered the youth, in a tone of 
 vexation. 
 
 " How's that ? " 
 
 " Why, look here : we've come 
 from Poltava, forty-two men of 
 us. It took us nearly a fortnight 
 to get here. By the time we 
 arrived, we were so worn out and 
 hard up for cash, that we came 
 near to calling out for help. 
 Your land is a poor one, and the 
 people all seem different to ours. 
 Being in foreign parts all alone 
 is as bad as being lost in a thick 
 wood. We came across a man 
 who said to us, f I'll hire you all 
 till the Feast of the Intercession 
 at the rate of one hundred 
 roubles for each man and sixty 
 for each woman.' Well, there 
 were some of our company who 
 had worked in these parts before, 
 and we asked their opinion. 
 ' We never found prices so good 
 in former years. We got ninety- 
 five roubles one year and ninety 
 another, so you will do well to 
 close with this man, for it's a 
 good price.' So we agreed with
 
 l8o AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 him. And as things have turned 
 out, it seems we have given away 
 our services. Just look at this 
 hay ! . . . and see what a har- 
 vest there will be. We have 
 just heard that men are getting 
 one and a half roubles a day for 
 hay-making, and that prices will 
 go up again as the rye ripens. 
 Indeed, I believe they'll go to 
 two and a half or even three ; 
 and the women even are getting 
 a rouble a day just fancy that ! 
 I think we have been pretty well 
 taken in." 
 
 " Bad luck to those fellows 
 who advised us," muttered an- 
 other native of Poltava, a man 
 with a gloomy, ill-natured coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 " May you get the pip, abus- 
 ing us like that ! " exclaimed 
 an elderly Poltava peasant who 
 wore long moustaches and bore 
 an extraordinary resemblance to 
 the portrait of Mazeppa as he is 
 represented on cheap engravings. 
 " How were we to know that 
 things would turn out as they 
 have ? "
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. l8l 
 
 " Whether you knew or not, it 
 is certain that we have got to 
 slave away till the feast of the 
 Intercession for one hundred 
 roubles, when we might be earn- 
 ing just twice that amount." 
 
 " Ah, you brainless southern- 
 ers ! " shouted a voice at the 
 sound of which all the men 
 looked round. These words 
 were spoken by a tall, broad- 
 shouldered moujik, whose counte- 
 nance was pitted with smallpox 
 and who wore a clipped beard. 
 His head was covered by a felt 
 hat, the brim of which had 
 become bent downwards by the 
 action of time. He had a 
 straightforward, manly expres- 
 sion, and the good-natured tone 
 in which he spoke betrayed a 
 slight shade of irony. He spoke 
 smoothly and fluently in the 
 sing-song manner of Great 
 Russian natives. 
 
 " Listen to me, I tell you ! 
 What's the good of your going 
 on like that at each other ? How 
 were they to know ? Do you
 
 1 82 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 suppose that a man is such a 
 fool as to harm himself ? You 
 must remember that they who 
 advised us to close with the offer 
 of one hundred roubles did the 
 same thing themselves ! You 
 listen to my advice now ! " 
 
 " Sss . . . you Yaroslavl goat ! 
 Who made you a leader ? " asked 
 the Poltava men with unfeigned 
 scorn ; nevertheless they left 
 their scythes and collected 
 around the " Yaroslavl goat," 
 ready to listen to what he had 
 to say. 
 
 " Now then, mind you tell us 
 something worth listening to," 
 condescendingly remarked several 
 of the audience. 
 
 " Well, listen to me ! " con- 
 tinued the Yaroslavl man in a 
 free and easy tone. " Tell me, 
 you dull-headed southerners, 
 whether it is we who are more 
 in need of the landlord, or the 
 landlord of us, at this present 
 moment. Eh, what have you 
 got to say to that ? " 
 
 The Poltava men pondered
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 1 83 
 
 over this question in solemn 
 silence. 
 
 " Why, we of course are more 
 useful to him," continued the 
 man from Yaroslavl, without 
 waiting for their answer; "be- 
 cause you see what the grass is 
 like the weather is scorching 
 hot, and every day lost means 
 loss of money to the landowner. 
 Each day lost costs him at least 
 a thousand roubles. Therefore 
 it follows that he ought to value 
 our services accordingly." 
 
 " Quite right ! " rejoined the 
 audience unanimously. 
 
 " Very well. So we are agreed 
 on that point. In fact we have 
 got him in our hands, and can 
 do what we like with him ! " 
 
 " So we can," interrupted the 
 men from Poltava again. 
 
 " So we can," repeated the 
 sharp-witted northerner, mimick- 
 ing his listeners. " And if that's 
 so, what then ? " 
 
 The Yaroslavl peasant was 
 evidently well pleased with his 
 inventive talent and his intel-
 
 184 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 lectual superiority over the 
 Poltava men ; and this circum- 
 stance annoyed one of the latter, 
 namely him who bore a resem- 
 blance to Mazeppa. 
 
 " Stop, you goat-bearded 
 fellow ! " exclaimed this man, 
 angrily interrupting the orator. 
 " Do you think we can't see 
 what you are driving at ? 
 Where's your conscience ? May- 
 be it's as goat-like as your 
 beard." 
 
 " Ha ha ha ! " The speaker 
 burst out into a loud, sonorous 
 laugh. " That's it, is it ! That's 
 your idea ! You silly southerner ! 
 So we are to lose our earnings 
 to satisfy our consciences ! Do 
 you suppose he troubles about 
 his conscience because he pays 
 us a rouble, when others are 
 getting a rouble and a half? 
 What sort of conscience do you 
 call that ? What's the good of 
 hair-splitting about conscience ? 
 Throw down your scythes, my 
 friends. Let him see that we 
 must be paid as the others are
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 1 85 
 
 being paid. . . . Why should we 
 lose that which is our due ? 
 This is our chance of good luck : 
 it comes but rarely ! How many 
 years have we looked in vain 
 for it ? Conscience rubbish ! " 
 And with these words the Yaro- 
 slavl peasant laid down his 
 scythe and sat down, stretching 
 out his legs encased and bound 
 round with rags. 
 
 The Poltava men stopped 
 work and stood about in silence, 
 evidently undecided what to 
 do. 
 
 " Don't you listen to him, boys. 
 Let him kick up a row if he's 
 discontented," said a peasant 
 " with a conscience." " Shall we 
 be acting aright if we fail to 
 keep our word ? " 
 
 This good counsel was clearly 
 as unheeded as the voice of one 
 crying in the wilderness. Several 
 of the southerners had seated 
 themselves on the ground with- 
 out saying a word ; others as 
 yet undecided, were discussing 
 the situation among themselves.
 
 1 86 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 They all at length came to the 
 conclusion that they were each 
 entitled to receive their due. 
 The pleasant idea of possibly 
 earning two hundred roubles 
 instead of half that sum, passed 
 through the minds of each of 
 them, and gradually all the party 
 of reapers seated themselves in 
 a group around the Yaroslavl 
 agitator. 
 
 The women seated themselves 
 down first without any further 
 discussion. The agitator's idea 
 seemed so very advantageous. 
 The only man who did not sit 
 down with the others was the 
 " man with the conscience ; " 
 but even he had stopped work, 
 and was leaning on his scythe 
 and reviewing the situation in 
 his mind. 
 
 " What are you puzzling your 
 head over, you wiseacre ? Come 
 and sit down and shut up work ! 
 You won't be called upon to 
 answer for our doings," said the 
 agitator, in a convincing manner. 
 
 " It's against my conscience,
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 187 
 
 it is indeed ! " said the peasant, 
 still unconvinced, but at the 
 same time taking his seat on 
 the grass in a hesitating manner, 
 and remaining at some little 
 distance from the other members 
 of the company, as though avoid- 
 ing all contact with them. 
 
 " Ha, ha ! it's against your 
 conscience, is it ? and still you 
 give up work ! " ironically re- 
 marked one of the women. 
 
 " But what can I do, left all 
 alone as I am ? " angrily rejoined 
 the peasant. " I don't want to 
 lose what's my due ! All I say 
 is, that this does not seem to me 
 right, and this I shall always 
 maintain." 
 
 " So much the better ! " care- 
 lessly remarked the Yaroslavl 
 man, highly delighted that the 
 whole company was now won 
 over to his views. " Let's fold 
 our arms, stretch out our legs, 
 and sit and whistle ! " 
 
 Suiting his action to his words 
 the agitator commenced whist- 
 ling, to the great delight of the
 
 1 88 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 female portion of the party. All 
 the company were in high spirits. 
 At this juncture, however, a horse- 
 man appeared on the dusty road 
 at no great distance. He was a 
 broadly-built fellow with reddish 
 beard and whiskers, and his eyes 
 were small grey, and furtive. He 
 had the habit of holding his head 
 on one side, and from this cir- 
 cumstance had earned the nick- 
 name of " the off-side horse." 
 He was dressed in check trousers, 
 a short coat of yellowish tint, and 
 a peaked cap. His face and 
 clothes were completely covered 
 with dust. He was riding as 
 fast as he could urge on his 
 wearied steed with the riding- 
 whip. He was the farm bailiff, 
 and it was his duty to look after 
 the reapers and keep them up to 
 their work. He kept riding from 
 one party of workers to the next ; 
 there were in all, forty parties of 
 fifty workers each, employed at 
 distances of about six hundred 
 yards from each other. 
 
 " Hullo, you fellows ! What
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 1 89 
 
 are you sitting there for ? What 
 does this mean ? Look alive, 
 get to work ! " shouted the bailiff 
 in a hoarse voice, and at the 
 same time flourishing his whip 
 in such an irate manner that it 
 whistled as it cut through the 
 air. However, none of the party 
 moved from their places. 
 
 " What are you sitting there 
 for, I ask you ? Have you all 
 gone stone deaf ? " the bailiff 
 here added a few of his favourite 
 violent expressions. 
 
 " What are you shouting at 
 us for ? We want our dinner, 
 it's time for dinner ! That's 
 why we've sat down ! " answered 
 one of the party. 
 
 " You must have gone mad, all 
 of you!" cried out the bailiff in 
 a rage " wanting your dinner 
 when the sun has hardly risen ! " 
 
 " Anyway we shall not do any 
 work till we have had our 
 dinner ! " 
 
 The bailiff was in doubt as to 
 what this meant. But a moment 
 later he seemed to grasp the
 
 190 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 situation. He prided himself on 
 being a " cunning dog," and 
 understood, from the manner in 
 which the men spoke, there was 
 something of an unusual nature 
 going on. He had a very keen 
 eye for all such matters, and 
 instantly the word " strike " 
 occurred to his mind. Having 
 had experience in such affairs 
 he knew the best course to 
 pursue, and therefore changed 
 his tone and assumed a gentle 
 manner which ill suited his fox- 
 like countenance. 
 
 " Hm ! I see ! " muttered 
 the bailiff as though to himself. 
 " Very well, if you wish for 
 your dinner, I will order it." 
 
 He turned his horse's head and 
 started off again at full speed. A 
 few minutes later the kettle for 
 boiling the kasha was brought, 
 cooking operations were com- 
 menced, and dinner was soon 
 ready. The labourers brought 
 out their spoons, and sat down 
 with their soup-dishes in front of 
 them. They all wore a stubborn
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 191 
 
 and silent air. The Yaroslavl 
 peasant alone of the party still 
 remained smiling, and occa- 
 sionally made jokes addressed 
 chiefly to the women, who 
 seemed to understand him better 
 than the men. The conspirators 
 evidently were in doubt as to 
 what they were to do next, or 
 what would come of the affair; 
 but the northerner knew very 
 well that the others would follow 
 his lead. They began to eat in 
 an indolent fashion, for, to tell 
 the truth, no one was hungry, as 
 they had only just had breakfast. 
 
 " Tfou ! " suddenly ejaculated 
 the Yaroslavl peasant, spitting. 
 " Do they call this kasha ? Is 
 this buckwheat ? What's this, 
 boys ? He has fed his pigs with 
 the buckwheat, and this is what 
 they have left ! Put down your 
 spoons, boys ! We won't work 
 for such kasha as this ! " 
 
 With these words, he threw 
 aside his spoon and turned his 
 bowl of kasha upside down. The 
 miserable thin liquid trickled
 
 192 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 over the grass. A roar of laughter 
 was raised at this, and the kasha 
 from the other basins was dealt 
 with in a similar unceremonious 
 fashion. It was easy to see that 
 things were beginning to take a 
 serious turn. 
 
 The bailiff knitted his brows ; 
 his hands were trembling with 
 rage; but he did not lose his self- 
 control, and wisely maintained 
 silence. He knew full well that 
 if he opened his mouth it would 
 be to use abusive language. He 
 went up to the kettle with an air 
 of constrained calmness, and took 
 a spoonful of the kasha and tried 
 it. There was certainly no fault 
 to be found with the buckwheat; 
 in fact, there could be no doubt 
 whatever now as to the real 
 cause of the discontent. 
 
 " What does this mean? You 
 don't want to do any more work? 
 Is that it ? Why do you say 
 nothing ? I must speak about 
 this to the squire." 
 
 " All right ; tell him all that's 
 happened," answered the strikers 
 in a resolute manner.
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 1 93 
 
 The bailiff angrily spat on the 
 ground, then mounted his horse 
 and galloped off in the direc- 
 tion of the village to see the 
 squire. In the meanwhile the 
 workmen belonging to another 
 neighbouring party saw from 
 afar off that something of an 
 unusual nature was occurring. 
 Directly after the bailiff had 
 ridden off, an envoy arrived from 
 the other labourers to ask what 
 was the matter. These latter, 
 overcome by curiosity, had almost 
 given up their work they hardly 
 felt inclined for it at present ; 
 besides which, the bailiff was 
 not to be seen, so that there was 
 no object in doing anything. 
 
 The conspirators pulled out 
 their pipes, filled them up with 
 "twist," and began smoking. 
 The strikers were seated about 
 in a free-and-easy fashion, and 
 appeared by no means anxious, 
 and were even engaged in dis- 
 cussing outside events. They 
 had by this time quite accus- 
 tomed themselves to their new 
 
 13
 
 194 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 situation. More than half an 
 hour had thus passed away, when 
 a huge cloud of dust was seen 
 arising in the distance towards 
 the village. Horsemen gradually 
 became visible, and in the rear 
 of the cavalcade appeared the 
 squire's well-appointed gig. 
 
 " I say, boys, what a cloud of 
 dust we've managed to knock 
 up ! " remarked the ringleader 
 in a jaunty tone of voice. 
 
 The horsemen approached. 
 Among them were the bailiffs, 
 outriders, engineer, and others ; 
 in fact, the whole staff of the 
 squire's estate management. 
 Among them was the head 
 agent, a fat German, whose 
 vocabulary of Russian words did 
 not extend beyond those of a 
 violent character. 
 
 What's this ? " What are 
 you up to ? " " You brainless 
 moujiks!" " Do you know what 
 this will do for you ? " " You'll 
 certainly get sent to Siberia ! " 
 " The law punishes such an 
 offence with penal servitude ! "
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 1 95 
 
 " This is a revolt you are 
 mutineers ! " 
 
 The bailiffs kept shouting out 
 suchlike words, all talking at 
 the same time ; the agent, how- 
 ever, only grew redder and 
 angrier, sincerely regretting his 
 inability to speak to the men. 
 But still the strikers remained 
 perfectly indifferent to all that 
 was being said to them, and con- 
 tinued conversing among them- 
 selves. 
 
 The squire then came up. He 
 was a medium-sized man of good 
 build, about forty years old ; his 
 face was clean shaven, and his 
 black hair closely cropped. He 
 wore a light-coloured summer 
 suit, and a hat made of wood 
 shavings, with the brim turned 
 downwards. His manner was 
 calm and dignified. He was 
 considered to be the most highly 
 cultured man in the whole dis- 
 trict, and as a local magnate had 
 won for himself general popu- 
 larity. He had a very good 
 library, and subscribed to nume-
 
 196 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 rous magazines and papers, the 
 back numbers of which he kept 
 in elegant bindings and port- 
 folios. His reputation among the 
 peasants was that of an easy- 
 going, pleasant man. He never 
 allowed himself to speak 
 brusquely to a peasant, always 
 made a point of addressing his 
 social inferiors in the second 
 person plural, and responded to 
 those who saluted him by taking 
 off his hat and graciously bowing 
 his head. His highly sensitive 
 nature abhorred the use of coarse 
 words and strong expressions, 
 and his agents and bailiffs had 
 very strict orders to treat the 
 workmen with proper considera- 
 tion. 
 
 The squire descended from his 
 gig, and slowly approached the 
 group of labourers. At this the 
 bailiff's were silent, and the men 
 stood up and took off their hats. 
 
 *' I hear, sirs, that you are 
 discontented with the kasha sup- 
 plied you. Is this the case ? " 
 He asked this question in an
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 1 97 
 
 easy tone of voice, and with 
 unaffected dignity. Receiving 
 no answer, he continued : " I 
 am very glad to think that this 
 is not true, for, were it so, I 
 should consider myself wronged, 
 for it is well known throughout 
 the district that the food I supply 
 is excellent. I am bound to 
 suppose that there is some other 
 cause than this for your conduct 
 that you wish to break your 
 contract. . . ." 
 
 " We never made any con- 
 tract . . . ." timidly suggested 
 some one. 
 
 The calm, dignified manner in 
 which the squire spoke seemed 
 to somewhat confuse the con- 
 spirators. They were already 
 beginning to feel that they were 
 in the wrong. The astute Yaro- 
 slavl man saw this, and there- 
 fore made ready to address a 
 speech on behalf of his fellows. 
 
 " Well . . . certainly no formal 
 contract has been signed ; but 
 you made a bargain which is 
 binding on your consciences.
 
 198 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 However, I am well aware that 
 the voice of conscience has no 
 influence in the action of some 
 people ! . . ." continued the 
 squire, with a contemptuous 
 smile on his face. " What is it 
 that you want from me ? " 
 
 The Yaroslavl man came for- 
 ward. 
 
 " We want nothing from your 
 excellency. We only want you 
 to settle up with us," said he, in 
 a bold tone of voice. 
 
 The Poltava men looked at 
 each other anxiously. This state- 
 ment evidently surprised them. 
 
 " What do you mean settle 
 up with you ? " asked the squire, 
 with a shade of anxiety in his 
 voice. He really was beginning 
 to feel rather uncomfortable. 
 This affair might possibly cost 
 him several thousand roubles. 
 A huge strip of grass land would 
 remain unmown if he paid off 
 this party. For the last three 
 days it had been impossible to 
 engage any fresh hands they 
 were all busy ; and in the mean-
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 1 99 
 
 while the sun was pitilessly 
 scorching the earth. Another 
 day, and the grass must be burnt 
 up and become useless. 
 
 " Yes, sir, that's what we want 
 our account," respectfully con- 
 tinued the Yaroslavl man. "You 
 wish as we do, that everything 
 should be done fairly. At the 
 present moment reapers are 
 earning a rouble and a half, and 
 the women a rouble; we shall go 
 to a place where we can get that 
 price. We shall not have to go 
 far, for there are plenty who will 
 take us ; so that we must ask 
 you for our wages." 
 
 " Ah ! I see you wish to cause 
 me an enormous loss of money. 
 Well, we'll see about that. You 
 forget, however, that I am in 
 possession of your papers, and 
 that without your papers no one 
 will hire you. I decline either 
 to give up your papers or to 
 settle your wages. So, my friends, 
 you see you have been a little bit 
 hasty in your calculation ! " 
 
 " Oh no, sir ; we thought all
 
 200 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 about that! It's not we who have 
 made the mistake ! " answered 
 the leader of the strike in a re- 
 spectful tone, but with a shade 
 of irony in his voice. "We shall 
 not trouble ourselves about your 
 keeping our papers ; we shall 
 leave you all the same. People 
 who really want more hands 
 don't trouble much about their 
 papers. . . . This is rather an 
 important time. . . ." 
 
 " But suppose that I sue you 
 for damages ? . . ." 
 
 " You'll get nothing, for there's 
 nothing to get ! " was the reply. 
 
 The squire, notwithstanding 
 his assumed calmness of manner, 
 found it necessary to wipe his 
 forehead with his handkerchief. 
 He had used up all the argu- 
 ments at his disposal. Time 
 was passing. Every hour lost 
 meant a loss of hundreds of 
 roubles. He felt that an under- 
 standing must be arrived at, at 
 any cost. It required but little 
 arithmetic to come to the conclu- 
 sion that it would be far better
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 201 
 
 to offer an increased wage at 
 the price then prevailing, rather 
 than lose the services of a whole 
 party of workmen. 
 
 " How much do you want ? " 
 asked the squire. 
 
 " The same as the others are 
 getting a rouble and a half for 
 the men and a rouble for the 
 women." 
 
 " All right ; but I shall make 
 you sign a contract, and then 
 if . . ." 
 
 " We won't have any contract, 
 it does not suit us. ... The 
 price will go up again ! . . ." 
 
 " Indeed ? I have already 
 ten parties working at this price, 
 and you wish me to make an 
 exception in your favour. . . . 
 Very well, then, I shall find 
 men elsewhere." 
 
 " We don't know anything 
 about the other parties, . . . but 
 see over there." 
 
 The squire glanced in the 
 direction of the other party. 
 He could see that work had 
 already ceased with them also,
 
 202 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 and the men were sitting down. 
 This spectacle finally exhausted 
 his patience, and he could 
 scarcely restrain himself from 
 freely giving vent to his feelings. 
 
 " I much regret that I have 
 wasted words and reasonable 
 propositions on men who are 
 only worthy of contempt," said 
 the squire, in tones of unfeigned 
 disgust, although it was on the 
 tip of his tongue to call them 
 scamps, swindlers, &c. He got 
 into his gig and drove off to the 
 next party in a great rage. His 
 herd of employes, with a look of 
 great anxiety on their faces, 
 galloped after him. 
 
 " Now, then, Mr. ' baring r 
 you'll have to take care of your 
 money, else it'll be all slipping 
 away from you. What does it 
 matter to him if he makes a 
 few hundreds less out of us ! 
 But he would like to pocket 
 them if he could ! That's the 
 way that money is made ! . . ." 
 
 1 Gentleman.
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 203 
 
 Such were the sentiments ex- 
 pressed by the strikers after the 
 squire's departure. A quarter of 
 an hour later a bailiff dashed up 
 on horseback. 
 
 " Hullo you there ! Get to 
 work ! Look alive ! You'll be 
 paid at the market price for 
 labour ! But mind, you must 
 work for it ! Now, then, try 
 and make up what you've lost 
 this morning."
 
 IV. 
 
 ARTEM and Matriona did 
 very little mowing that day. 
 They worked on in a listless 
 manner, and the scythe hardly 
 seemed to make any impression 
 on the grass. They stopped at 
 frequent intervals, laying down 
 their implements, and seated 
 themselves on the ground, con- 
 centrating all their attention 
 upon the scene above described. 
 Anxiously listening to what was 
 being said, they lost not a single 
 word, but carefully followed the 
 progress of events in order to 
 see how the affair would end. 
 Artem looked sullen, and took no 
 notice of Matriona's impatient 
 remarks, but his outward de- 
 meanour only disguised a feel-
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 205 
 
 ing of triumphant joy which 
 every moment gained in force : 
 he felt that his destiny was en- 
 tirely dependent upon the suc- 
 cessful result of the strikers' 
 action. As soon as the final 
 issue at stake between the men 
 and their employer was settled, 
 he got up and heaved a deep 
 sigh, like a man who, after in- 
 cessant labour, has at length 
 successfully terminated a diffi- 
 cult task. 
 
 " It's time to go home ! " 
 said he, turning to Matriona. 
 " We've done enough of this 
 work at a halfpenny a day." 
 
 " Yes, we have indeed ! " re- 
 joined Matriona, without hesita- 
 tion. " We are as good as they 
 are." 
 
 So saying, she tossed her head 
 with unfeigned pride, as if she 
 really was some one of no small 
 importance. This attitude suited 
 her admirably, so much so, that 
 any observer might have sup- 
 posed that under her coarse 
 sunburnt skin flowed a dash of
 
 206 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 blue blood. Nevertheless, it 
 was known for a certainty that 
 she was the daughter, grand- 
 daughter and great - grand- 
 daughter of common peasants. 
 
 Artem joyfully urged on the 
 horses. All the way home he 
 kept singing and winking at 
 Matriona, to the surprise of the 
 latter. His jovial aspect also 
 caused wonder to those he met 
 on the road, as well as to the 
 peasants at work on the 
 meadows adjoining the road- 
 way. They knew that Artem 
 was a morose man. True it 
 was that formerly he had had 
 a reputation as a good-natured, 
 jolly sort of a fellow, but after 
 misfortune had overtaken him 
 he seemed to lose all his high 
 spirits, and became silent and 
 gloomy. To-day, however, he 
 suddenly seemed to regain his 
 former spirits. 
 
 The early return of the 
 priest's servants from work 
 was the cause of surprise to all 
 who saw them. It seemed to
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 207 
 
 every one a violation of the 
 matoushka's rule that her servants 
 should be the first to arrive at 
 work and the last to leave it. 
 But the sun was only beginning 
 to descend in the skies, and no 
 one had thought of going home 
 yet. 
 
 " Now, Matriona, mind you 
 behave yourself properly." 
 
 " You may be sure of that," 
 replied Matriona. 
 
 "All right. Don't you forget, 
 though. We don't intend to give 
 up what is our due. Things 
 will not right themselves all at 
 once, but by degrees ! ... So 
 take care that you don't get 
 frightened. . . . Ah, well I know 
 you women as soon as any- 
 thing happens, you are ready 
 to turn tail. . . . She is hag 
 enough to frighten any one, I 
 know, ... a veritable she- 
 devil." 
 
 " Oh, I'm not afraid of her ! " 
 answered Matriona, in a tone 
 expressive of self-confidence. 
 
 Artem began singing and
 
 208 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 whistling in a careless manner 
 whilst the well-nourished priest's 
 horses trotted through the vil- 
 lage. He felt very cheerful. 
 " There will be a fine scene 
 here presently ! How the old 
 hag will fume ! " thought he, 
 with malignant joy, and pic- 
 tured to himself the scene of 
 the matoushka with dishevelled 
 hair and mad with rage, while 
 he, Artem, stood before her with 
 his cap on his head, and smiling 
 ironically. However, nothing of 
 the sort happened, much to Ar- 
 tem's surprise. 
 
 " What's brought you home 
 so early ? " asked the priest's 
 wife, without even looking at 
 Artem. 
 
 " We had had enough of it ! 
 We started out very early ; even 
 the village cocks were still 
 asleep ! " replied Artem, in a 
 free-and-easy manner. He him- 
 self even felt surprise at the tone 
 in which he addressed the ma- 
 toushka. But this manner soon 
 gave place to a more subdued
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 209 
 
 tone ; his voice trembled and 
 became lower. 
 
 " Have you done much mow- 
 ing ? " asked the matoushka. 
 
 "Afair amount, about an acre ! " 
 
 " H'm ... an acre ! I must 
 say you are fine sort of hay- 
 makers ! " muttered the priest's 
 wife, almost to herself; and 
 without further remark she left 
 the room, much to the surprise 
 of Artem and Matriona. 
 
 The matoushka's manner 
 seemed strange, and unlike her 
 ordinary self. On this occa- 
 sion, however, she walked about 
 the room with a determined, 
 self-contained look on her coun- 
 tenance, her thoughts evidently 
 concentrated on one all-absorb- 
 ing subject. To judge by her 
 appearance, one might have sup- 
 posed that she was trying to 
 find her way out of some 
 grave difficulty which suddenly 
 threatened to upset the even 
 tenor of her life. She went to 
 the door leading to Father Leo's 
 study, and knocked. 
 14
 
 2IO AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 " Leo ! Wake up ! I want 
 you ! " 
 
 " What's the matter now ? " 
 replied the voice of one ap- 
 parently awaking from sleep. 
 
 " I want you ! There's im- 
 portant business," repeated the 
 matoushka. 
 
 It should be observed that 
 however angry the matoushka 
 might be with her husband, she 
 always addressed him in a quiet 
 manner. She recognised the 
 importance of not disturbing his 
 rest. Father Leo got up quickly, 
 for he knew from his wife's man- 
 ner that this was no ordinary 
 affair. He entered the sitting- 
 room, half asleep and without 
 his coat on. A council of war 
 was then held. 
 
 " You've no idea of all that's 
 going on while you are quietly 
 sleeping ! " commenced the 
 matoushka. 
 
 " What's happened ? " asked 
 Father Leo in a frightened tone 
 of voice. 
 
 " What has happened is simply
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 211 
 
 this : the squire's men have de- 
 clined to work unless they are 
 promised higher wages. The 
 trouble first began with one 
 party of men, and soon spread to 
 the rest. The bailiff Matvei has 
 been round here and told me all 
 about it. He says this affair will 
 cost J he squire several thousands. 
 . . . That is what has hap- 
 pened ! " 
 
 '* I don't quite see how it affects 
 us," remarked Father Leo. 
 
 " Why, do you suppose that 
 our people will not take advan- 
 tage of this ? I can tell you that 
 they have had a grudge against 
 us for a long time, and just now 
 is their chance of paying us out ; 
 they know very well that hands 
 are scarce all are busy at work, 
 and that high wages are being 
 paid everywhere. It is in their 
 power to put us in a pretty fix, by 
 throwing up work and leaving us 
 to our own devices ! " 
 
 " Rubbish ! " . . . said Father 
 Leo, trying to dispel his wife's 
 forebodings. " You need not
 
 212 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 trouble your head about that. 
 I've got their passports ; you 
 don't suppose I should be such a 
 fool as to give them up." 
 
 "Ah, you don't understand 
 what you are talking about," 
 angrily interrupted the matoushka. 
 " Passports have nothing to do 
 with the matter as things now 
 stand. Employers are eagerly 
 searching for hands throughout 
 the district. What do they care 
 about passports so long as they 
 can find fresh hands. . . . We 
 shall simply be left in the lurch 
 with their passports. . . ." 
 
 " Well, what's to be done ? " 
 anxiously asked the priest. 
 
 " We must simply do all we 
 can to keep on good terms with 
 them. I feel sure that they want 
 to pick a quarrel about some- 
 thing. Especially that fellow 
 Artem : he is a regular good-for- 
 nothing ! I know what he has 
 got on his mind. The moment I 
 looked at him to-day, I guessed 
 what was up. . . . Now I'll tell 
 you what you mustdo: it wouldn't
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 213 
 
 come well from me, it would be 
 too sudden : you know I've never 
 spoilt my servants, so it would 
 look queer. . . . You just call 
 Artem in, and give him a good 
 glass of vodka, and talk to him a 
 bit, you know, . . . something 
 about the spring beginning, eh ! 
 ... or that he must fortify him- 
 self for the long summer days 
 coming. . . . You can do it better 
 than I, because you know how to 
 talk. But mind you put on your 
 coat first, otherwise it will look 
 strange. Although he's only 
 a workman, . still it wouldn't 
 do. He will tell the others all 
 about it. . . . By the way, I 
 nearly forgot to tell you, I sent 
 them off to work very early this 
 morning, and so they are rather 
 sulky. So just say that you 
 chanced to learn of this, and 
 were much annoyed about it, and 
 that in future you will not let 
 such a thing happen again." 
 
 Father Leo quite agreed that 
 he ought to put on his coat he 
 even went further than this, and
 
 214 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 arrayed himself in his cassock, 
 thus assuming an air of greater 
 solemnity than the occasion de- 
 manded. Matri6na was sent to 
 fetch Artem. With curiosity 
 characteristic of her sex, she had 
 been unable to resist the tempta- 
 tion of applying her ear to the 
 keyhole of the door leading to the 
 sitting-room, and had by this 
 means managed to catch every 
 word of the foregoing conversa- 
 tion. She found Artem in the 
 stable at his favourite occupation 
 looking after the horses. 
 
 " I say, Artem ! Come along 
 and have some vodka ! " said 
 Matriona to him so abruptly that 
 she made him start. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " asked 
 Artem surprised. 
 
 " A good glass, I promise you ! 
 I don't suppose that the bdtioushka 
 and the matoushka drink bad 
 vodka." 
 
 " Have you gone mad ? What 
 are you talking about the bd- 
 tioushka's vodka ? I shouldn't be 
 surprised if you haven't stolen a 
 bottle."
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 215 
 
 " Oh no, I haven't ; besides 
 which, I never drink vodka ! You 
 don't imagine that I would steal 
 it for your benefit, do you ? " said 
 Matriona in a tone of virtuous 
 indignation, just as though she 
 had never taken advantage of a 
 quiet moment down in the cellar 
 to have a taste of the matoushka's 
 favourite apricot jam. But she 
 was of a forgiving disposition, 
 and so continued : 
 
 " The matoushka has heard 
 all about the strike, and is afraid 
 that we shall follow their ex- 
 ample. . . . Well, I heard her 
 telling the bdtioushka. She said, 
 * Send for Artem and treat him to 
 a drink, for we must keep him in 
 good humour.' ... So hurry up ! 
 The bdtioushka is waiting for you, 
 in his best cassock, just as if he 
 were going to mass ! " 
 
 At this Matriona smiled ma- 
 liciously. 
 
 " I won't refuse his vodka ! It's 
 about time he gave me some he 
 owes me a good glass for my 
 work ! . . . And mind you bring
 
 2l6 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 out a good big glass " (this was 
 said aside to Matriona). " But 
 it's rather late in the day for 
 them to think about doing me a 
 good turn. . . ." 
 
 Artem put down the brush 
 which he held in his hand, and 
 put on his worn-out, patched 
 overcoat (for seeing that his 
 master was to receive him dressed 
 in his cassock, it would scarcely 
 be suitable for Artem to appear 
 in his shirt-sleeves), and left the 
 stable. As they crossed the 
 yard, Matriona continued, in a 
 confidential whisper, lest she 
 should be overheard : 
 
 " The matoushka said : ' That 
 fellow Artem is a regular scoun- 
 drel, I can see through him.' " 
 
 Matriona was interrupted at 
 this point, for just then the ma- 
 toushka's head appeared at one 
 of the windows of the corridor. 
 Matriona hastily left Artem and 
 ran off to find a " good big glass " 
 for the vodka. She evidently had 
 no very high opinion of her mis- 
 tress's powers of observation ; for
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 217 
 
 just as she had got hold of a de- 
 canter filled with the vodka usually 
 supplied at table, and a large 
 wine-glass used by the bdtioushka 
 before meals, the priest's wife 
 stopped her. 
 
 " Stop, you idiot, where are 
 you off to in such a hurry ? You 
 ought to ask me first. Take 
 this ! " 
 
 And the matoushka pointed to 
 a bottle of a commoner descrip- 
 tion ; the vodka it contained was 
 five degrees lower than that used 
 at the matoushka's table. This 
 lesser degree of alcoholic strength 
 was arrived at by the simple pro- 
 cess of adding water ; bottles of 
 this description are known under 
 the appellation of the " people's 
 brand " : the liquid they contain 
 may likewise be called the " peo- 
 ple's," so that the glass used in 
 the consumption of such liquor 
 should be of a corresponding 
 kind. This latter article was 
 apparently of enormous dimen- 
 sions, but by reason of its thick 
 sides and substantial bottom, its
 
 2l8 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 capacity was by no means pro- 
 portionate to its size. But this 
 was in accordance with the ma- 
 toushka's theory of domestic 
 economy. 
 
 Artem entered the sitting-room, 
 and remained standing with his 
 hat in his hand, while the other 
 was engaged in carefully stroking 
 his hair and moustaches. He 
 looked brighter and more at his 
 ease than usual. Father Leo en- 
 tered the room from his study ar- 
 rayed in his cassock, his long hair 
 carefully combed out, in contrast 
 to his usual unkempt appearance. 
 As a rule, he only performed this 
 operation when about to conduct 
 divine service, or to administer 
 extreme unction, or suchlike 
 solemn duties. Artem bowed 
 as the priest entered, and received 
 Father Leo's blessing. 
 
 " Good-day to you, Artem 
 Maximo vitch ! " began Father 
 Leo in an amicable tone of voice. 
 " I hope you are quite well ? " 
 
 " O-ho ! " thought Artem : " I 
 am Maximovitch ' now ! " He
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 219 
 
 knew, however, that the priest 
 was a very mild-mannered man, 
 but he felt somewhat taken aback 
 by being addressed in the cere- 
 monious style to which, in times 
 gone by, he had been accus- 
 tomed. 
 
 " Pretty well, thank God . . . 
 with your prayers ! " answered 
 Artem aloud, although he had 
 his doubts as to whether Father 
 Leo ever did pray for him. 
 
 " You've been out haymaking 
 to-day, I hear ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Tell me, pray, what happened 
 out there. What's all this tale 
 I hear about the squire's men ? 
 Are they dissatisfied ? " 
 
 " The Lord only knows them. 
 . . . What have they been doing ? 
 Has there been any difficulty ? I 
 have heard nothing of it ! " an- 
 swered Artem, in a perfectly 
 natural manner, as though he 
 knew nothing about the affair 
 beyond that which the priest had 
 said to him. 
 
 " You mean to say you know
 
 2 20 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 nothing about it? Why, the 
 whole village is full of it already! " 
 continued the bdtioushka, as though 
 he really believed in Artem's de- 
 claration of ignorance concerning 
 the affair. 
 
 " No, I declare I know nothing 
 of it. If you doubt me, I'll swear 
 to you that it's true " (Artem 
 crossed himself), "and may I never 
 move from this spot if I lie ! " 
 
 Artem was naturally of a pious 
 disposition, and he only had re- 
 course to the above adjuration, 
 being convinced of the priest's 
 insincerity. On the other hand, 
 the bdtioushka, notwithstanding 
 his servant's solemn oath, did not 
 believe a word he said. 
 
 " How should I know about 
 it ? " continued Artem. " I was 
 occupied with my work, and had 
 no time for gossip, or listening to 
 what was going on ; . . . but ask 
 Matriona, if you doubt me, she 
 was there too ! " With these 
 words he turned his eyes towards 
 Matriona, who was at that minute 
 entering the room bringing bread
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 221 
 
 and pickled cucumbers for za- 
 koushka. 1 Matriona looked at the 
 bdtioushka with an inquiring air. 
 
 " Have you heard tell anything 
 about the squire's labourers, 
 Matriona ? " said Artem, turning 
 to her. 
 
 " I ? What do you mean by 
 talking like this to me ? and 
 before the bdtioushka too ! What 
 should I know about them in- 
 deed ? As if I had anything to 
 do with the squire's labourers ! " 
 and with this, Matriona bounced 
 out of the room, banging the door 
 with unnecessary violence. "Well 
 done ! Clever girl ! She hum- 
 bugged him beautifully," thought 
 Artem. 
 
 " I dare say you are quite 
 right ! " said the bdtioushka, wav- 
 ing his hand. " I sent for you to 
 wish you good luck with the hay- 
 making. ... I always do this, 
 it's a custom of mine. It's a hard 
 time now for the working man, and 
 he needs to strengthen himself! " 
 
 1 Light refreshment.
 
 222 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 " My respectful thanks to you, 
 bdtioushka I " said Artem, bowing 
 his head. " But you know that 
 we always have to be after some 
 job, and never get any resting 
 time ; . . . it's never amiss to 
 fortify oneself." 
 
 " Certainly, . . . certainly ; 
 just what I always say, and I 
 always give orders to that effect ! 
 But you know the matoushka 
 forgets ! . . . The labourer cer- 
 tainly has a right to rest ! . . . 
 Well, have a drink." 
 
 The bdtioushka then handed 
 Artem a glass of vodka, and the 
 latter, taking it, crossed himself, 
 and muttered, " To your good 
 health," drank it off, and took a 
 slice of cucumber. He then 
 bowed, and turned towards the 
 door, considering the interview 
 ended. 
 
 " Oh, stop a minute, I just 
 want to say a word to you ! " 
 said the bdtioushka. " It has 
 come to my ears, (and here the 
 bdtioushka placed his hand on 
 Artem's shoulder, and lowered
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 223 
 
 the tone of his voice as though 
 afraid that he might be over- 
 heard), " it has come to my ears 
 that you were sent out to work 
 very early this morning. . . . 
 This was a mistake. . . . The 
 clock is wrong " (at this the 
 bdtioushka pointed reproachfully 
 at the clock), " that's how it hap- 
 pened ! . . . but I have given 
 strict orders that such a thing 
 should not happen again. You 
 quite understand that it was all 
 a mistake owing to the clock, and 
 that I am very much annoyed 
 about it, and will see that it 
 never occurs again. Now go 
 and get your supper, and the 
 Lord be with you ! " The priest 
 then gave Artem his blessing. 
 
 When Artem was gone, Father 
 Leo felt a bit happier. He had 
 now accomplished all his duty, 
 and clearly had earned a good 
 rest. But before indulging in 
 this, he repaired to his wife's 
 bedroom to learn from her 
 whether she approved of the 
 manner in which he had played 
 his part.
 
 224 A N OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 " Well, I don't think I said . . 
 too much to him, do you ? No 
 I think it's all right ? " said he, 
 with a slight shade of doubt in 
 his voice. 
 
 " Oh, I dare say you did it all 
 right ! " condescendingly rejoined 
 the matoushka ; and Father Leo, 
 rejoiced by this qualified ap- 
 proval, retired to have a good 
 sleep, firmly convinced that he 
 had that day acquitted himself 
 like a man. 
 
 Artem, in the meanwhile, had 
 gone to have his supper. The 
 kitchen was situated somewhat 
 apart from the rest of the house. 
 It was really nothing more or 
 less than an ordinary peasant's 
 hut, built of mud, thatched with 
 rushes, and having for windows 
 tiny square holes, fitted with bits 
 of green glass. Some of the 
 panes were broken, and had been 
 replaced by bits of the blue paper 
 in which sugar loaves are wrap- 
 ped, stuck over the holes in the 
 glass. The matoushka used to 
 attribute reason of this makeshift
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 225 
 
 arrangement to the fact that 
 there was no glazier in the village, 
 although nothing in the world 
 would have been simpler than to 
 order panes of glass to be sent 
 by the postmaster, who drove to 
 the town and back once a week. 
 Owing to this circumstance, the 
 kitchen was in a chronic state of 
 storm, notwithstanding the great 
 consumption of fuel there, and 
 atmospheric changes influenced 
 the dwellers in it in much the 
 same way as it did the mercury 
 in the barometer. The cook 
 never took off her sheepskin coat 
 the whole winter through, and 
 during the performance of her 
 duties used to dance about in 
 order to keep her feet warm. An 
 enormous stove with a hearth- 
 stone stood in one corner of the 
 room. Shelves were arranged 
 along the walls, and on one side 
 of the room was a long table, 
 upon which meat and cabbages 
 were chopped up, dumplings 
 were made, &c, besides being 
 used as a dinner table for the 
 J 5
 
 2 26 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 servants. A large eikon hung 
 in one corner ; it represented a 
 group of saints whose identity 
 was somewhat doubtful. The 
 only objects clearly distinguish- 
 able about the picture were 
 bishops' mitres, and arms up- 
 raised in the act of giving the 
 blessing these objects stood out 
 somewhat in relief; the rest was 
 entirely effaced by the action of 
 time, which respects nothing. A 
 cord was stretched across the 
 kitchen, upon which the kitchen 
 cloths, and articles of wearing 
 apparel belonging to the cook 
 Marfa, were hanging in pic- 
 turesque confusion. In order to 
 cross the hut it was necessary to 
 dip one's head in order to avoid 
 the risk of coming in contact 
 with a wet rag. Marfa, the cook, 
 was a woman who had already 
 grown out of her first youth, but 
 who still retained all her strength 
 and vigour. The fundamental 
 principles of her philosophy con- 
 sisted in working as hard as ever 
 she could, and in replying to any
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 227 
 
 unpleasant remarks made to her 
 with compound interest. She 
 worked like an ox, and was as 
 quarrelsome as a street dog, and 
 moreover, she addressed the 
 matoushka with no more respect 
 than any one else. The latter 
 having found that Marfa was not 
 to be intimidated, left her alone, 
 and so affairs went somewhat 
 more smoothly in the kitchen 
 than in the other departments. 
 
 Artem,on entering the kitchen, 
 was agreeably surprised on seeing 
 steaming hot buckwheat dump- 
 lings on the table instead of the 
 usual herring and pickled cu- 
 cumber. These dumplings were 
 giving forth a savoury odour 
 which appeals to the olfactory 
 nerves of a hungry little Russian 
 more powerfully than the most 
 delicate aromatic balm. 
 
 " Ah, dumplings ! " said Artem 
 with an air of satisfaction. "We 
 only want sour cream now ! It 
 wouldn't be bad, would it ? " 
 
 " Yes, that's what we want ! " 
 interrupted Marfa, who had been
 
 228 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 informed of all the recent events 
 by Matriona; "you send Matriona 
 to the matoushka and tell her 
 that Artem wants sour cream." 
 
 " She'll never give it ! " 
 
 "Yes she will! She'll give 
 you anything just now, so you 
 had better get what you can out 
 of her." 
 
 " All right, I'll go, if it's only 
 for the joke of the thing. Won't 
 she be frantic ! I expect she'll 
 kick me out of the room ! " said 
 Matriona, in a jovial tone of voice, 
 as she ran off to ask for the sour 
 cream. Five minutes later, 
 basins with sour cream in them 
 were standing on the table, and 
 with such regal fare, the 
 matoushka's servants hardly knew 
 themselves. Some one hinted 
 that the mistress must have 
 gone out of her mind ; the 
 dumplings and cream were 
 nevertheless eaten with great 
 relish. 
 
 " Well, even if it's for the last 
 time, we shall have a good recol- 
 lection of it ! " muttered Artem,
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 229 
 
 wiping his mouth with his shirt- 
 sleeve. 
 
 " Do you mean that you are 
 going to-morrow ? " asked Marfa, 
 in a low tone of voice. 
 
 "Why should I stay here? 
 For the dumplings, eh ? Dump- 
 lings are well enough in their 
 way, but I don't care enough 
 about them for that ! I can't 
 afford to waste time ! Every day 
 now is worth a rouble and a half, 
 and I am only getting ten 
 copecks that's just the differ- 
 ence. ..." 
 
 " Artem boy ! as you go 
 through the village to-morrow, 
 look in at my father's and tell 
 him to come and fetch me away 
 from here as quick as possible. 
 Say I'll earn some money for 
 him," said Matriona. 
 
 " I'm not quite sure what's 
 the best for me to do ! " rejoined 
 Marfa with a sigh. "At my age" 
 (she was nearly fifty), " I should 
 hardly think they would take me 
 on haymaking ! They would say, 
 What do you want, old woman ? "
 
 230 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 " Oh, no ! they don't stop to 
 ask people their age just now 
 they take anybody, for the crop 
 is a plentiful one and it's hands 
 they want ! Why do you hesi- 
 tate ? Let us all leave the old 
 hag in the lurch to-morrow, and 
 let her lament ! Let her go mad 
 with rage ; it's what she de- 
 serves! "
 
 THE next day was a holi- 
 day. Artem got up early as 
 usual, and set to work to clean 
 the horses. On this occasion he 
 took special delight in the per- 
 formance of this operation. He 
 stroked their backs methodically 
 and fondly, all the while making 
 them a farewell speech which he 
 delivered in a fragmentary sort 
 of manner. His address was to 
 the effect that he was cleaning 
 them for the last time, having 
 resolved to forsake them, and 
 that it was scarcely to be expect- 
 ed that the next servant would 
 care for them and pet them in 
 the way that he did ; that 
 although he hated the old hag 
 and all her belongings, a special 
 exception was made in their case, 
 and that he always would remain
 
 232 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 true to them. In fact he said the 
 sort of things that one says to a 
 friend when hiddinghim farewell, 
 and the horses evidently under- 
 stood him thoroughly, for they 
 stood quite still, only every now 
 and then whisking their tails into 
 Artem's face in token of their 
 gratitude to him. 
 
 Meanwhile the sun rose from 
 out of the waters, and almost 
 instantaneously covered the 
 mirror- like surface of the lake 
 with its glory, which was simul- 
 taneously reflected by countless 
 myriads of dew-drops scattered 
 over the grass and the boughs of 
 trees. Its appearance was wel- 
 comed by everything endowed 
 with consciousness of existence; 
 a flight of crows, by their inces- 
 sant cawing in its honour, 
 managed to drown the feebler 
 choruses chanted by the spar- 
 rows, quails, and skylarks. It 
 peeped into the stable at Artem, 
 and compelled him to put down 
 his curry-brush and scratch the 
 back of his head.
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 233 
 
 " Ah, time is getting on ; I 
 must be off! " muttered he, as he 
 looked through the open door to 
 see if the sun was well up. He 
 then put on his overcoat, again 
 scratched his head, and muttered 
 to himself, "I feel ashamed to be 
 seen by any one in this old coat ! 
 I really deserve a better one. . . . 
 May you in the world to come be 
 condemned to go about in such a 
 coat ! " 
 
 At this very moment the 
 matoushka, who was restlessly 
 tossing about under the bed- 
 clothes, had spasms, 1 which 
 almost led to the supposition 
 that Artem's ejaculation referred 
 to her. Poor Agrafena Ivanovna 
 had passed a very disturbed 
 night. She had scarcely slept 
 at all. Thanks to her power of 
 observation and experience, she 
 had almost foreseen the troubles 
 that were to overtake her on 
 the coming day, and visions of 
 ever-increasing expenses rose 
 
 1 A popular saying in Russia, " I have 
 spasms," i.e., "Some one is talking 
 about me."
 
 234 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 up before her horror-stricken 
 imagination. 
 
 The matonshka's wrath had, 
 strange to say, been chiefly 
 directed against herself. She 
 could not forgive herself for the 
 grand mistake she had made in 
 her management of affairs, a 
 mistake which certainly did not 
 do credit to her talent for diplo- 
 macy : this was that she had 
 omitted to draw up contracts 
 when engaging her domestics. 
 Had she availed herself of such 
 contracts, she could have re- 
 garded them as her sacred pro- 
 perty, and none of them would 
 have even thought of leaving her 
 service at such a critical period. 
 But the real fact was that at 
 that time she looked at things 
 somewhat differently. At that 
 time she had not considered 
 the likelihood of a plentiful 
 harvest ; she did not care to 
 bind herself with contracts, so 
 that she might have the power of 
 sending all her servants to the 
 right-about at any moment that
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 235 
 
 it pleased her to do so. And now 
 . . . that was what was causing 
 her such annoyance, and one 
 might safely answer for it that 
 never again would she omit any 
 contingencies, however remote, 
 from her calculations, not even 
 the possibility of a plentiful 
 harvest. Harassed by such 
 grievous thoughts, she tossed 
 about all night, and only towards 
 morning, when thoroughly ex- 
 hausted, did she manage to get 
 off to sleep. But it would have 
 been better had she not slept. 
 She dreamed that every one had 
 left her service, and that no one 
 was willing to work for her. She 
 entreated, promised large sums 
 of money, but all in vain. The 
 thick, full-eared rye had ripened 
 on her land; meanwhile the 
 pitiless sun was pouring out its 
 rays upon the ears, so that the 
 grain was falling out of them. 
 All this wealth was vanishing 
 before her very eyes, and every 
 one absolutely refused to help 
 her. " This must be because I
 
 236 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 am so wicked," thought she, and 
 began to call for her husband to 
 corne and help her. But Father 
 Leo was sleeping the sleep of 
 the just. To look at him one 
 would think he would never 
 wake again. Agrafe n a Ivan- 
 ovna, seized with a sudden 
 terror, awaked from her sleep. 
 Things were still not quite so 
 bad in reality, thank God. But 
 it was time to get up, for the 
 sun was rising. It was an un- 
 heard-of thing that the matoushka 
 should stay in bed after the sun 
 had risen. She dressed herself, 
 and hurried out into the yard to 
 ascertain whether Marfa had fed 
 the ducks and geese. She met 
 Artem in the yard. 
 
 " Where are you off to so 
 early ? " thought the matoushka 
 to herself in trepidation. 
 
 " I've got to go into the vil- 
 lage," began Artem, coming up 
 to her, and taking off his hat. 
 
 " What for ? " inquired the 
 matoushka, fixing her scrutinising 
 gaze upon him.
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 237 
 
 " Oh, I want to see my family ! 
 To-day is a holiday, you know ! " 
 replied Artem. 
 
 The matoushka turned round, 
 and went away without saying 
 anything. 
 
 Artem left the yard, but in- 
 stead of going to see his family 
 he turned off in precisely the 
 opposite direction. Three houses 
 away from the priest's, on the 
 left-hand side, the squire's estate 
 office was situated. 
 
 It consisted of a couple of 
 large huts, one of which was 
 occupied by the bailiff and his 
 family ; the other, resembling in 
 appearance an ordinary shed, 
 was used as a workmen's kitchen, 
 and night shelter for them in 
 bad weather. Adjacent to these 
 buildings was an enormous yard 
 blocked up with reaping and 
 threshing machines, waggon 
 wheels, axles, and other separate 
 portions of carts. At the further 
 end of the yard was a smith's 
 forge a small mud hut, roofed 
 with black earth, on which vari-
 
 238 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 ous kinds of weeds were sprout- 
 ing. Artem went straight up to 
 one of the bailiffs. Near by, a 
 crowd of labourers were waiting 
 to . receive their week's wages. 
 Seated behind a high counter 
 was the bailiff with the closely- 
 cropped whiskers, known as the 
 "cunning dog." Rapidly balanc- 
 ing each man's account, he 
 handed him an order for the 
 sum due. Artem, after awaiting 
 his turn, entered the office. 
 
 " What do you want ? " asked 
 the bailiff, eyeing him from top 
 to toe. 
 
 " I come for a job ! " replied 
 Artem, in a tone of assurance. 
 
 "A job! Hm! What do 
 you mean by coming here for a 
 job when you are engaged with 
 the bdtioushka ? " 
 
 "Oh, I've settled up with the 
 bdtioushka I " 
 
 " I dare say More likely that 
 you've got wind that wages are 
 high now, and without any more 
 ado you have left your master. 
 Ah, you fellows ! it's a taste
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 239 
 
 of the knout that you want ! 
 Where's your passport ? " 
 
 The "cunning dog" had 
 guessed aright. It should be re- 
 marked that this bailiff was on 
 very friendly terms with Father 
 Leo and his wife. Two years 
 previously he had married a 
 young woman who, strange to 
 relate, had contrived to remain 
 nearly four years at a stretch 
 in the matoushka's service, and 
 ever since that time the bailiff 
 Matveii had never missed taking 
 tea with the matoushka every 
 Sunday, and used constantly to 
 assure her that she was his 
 benefactress. Yesterday he had 
 gone straight from the fields to 
 the priest's house in order to 
 inform her of the startling events 
 which had happened. It was 
 then settled that in case either 
 Artem or the other two servants 
 should come and offer their 
 services to the squire, their 
 application should be refused, 
 and that they should be turned 
 out of the office without cere- 
 mony.
 
 240 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 Artem hesitated somewhat 
 when asked for his passport, and 
 answered with a certain amount 
 of confusion that the bdtioushka 
 still had it. 
 
 " Well, we don't take stray 
 adventurers without passports ! 
 What do you want ? " said he, 
 suddenly addressing himself to 
 another man, who was awaiting 
 his turn, thus clearly showing 
 that he did not intend to waste 
 any more words with Artem. 
 
 Artem left the office with his 
 head hanging down. But he 
 had not lost courage yet, and 
 there was still a good chance of 
 success. After all, the squire's 
 estate was not the only one in 
 the world. He had quite re- 
 solved that, come what might, 
 he no longer intended to bow 
 and scrape before the matoushka ; 
 and more than that, even if she 
 went on her knees before him, 
 he would no longer remain in 
 her service. " But supposing 
 . . . ," and then an unpleasant 
 reflection entered Artem's head.
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 241 
 
 What would happen if he met 
 with a similar reception wher- 
 ever he applied for work ? And 
 worse than that might happen 
 for, having no passport, he was 
 liable to find himself locked up 
 in a cool cell during this scorch- 
 ing weather, and thus not only 
 earn nothing, but lose all that 
 was due to him for his winter's 
 work into the bargain. 
 
 " Artem Maximovitch ! " cried 
 a familiar voice to him, as he 
 stepped out of the office door. 
 
 " Ah, that's you, Tereshko ! " 
 rejoined Artem, looking up and 
 seeing before him a tall, sturdy 
 peasant, in his best white blouse 
 and a black sheepskin hat. 
 Tereshko was about forty years 
 old, but his long beard was 
 already streaked with grey hairs, 
 and when he lifted his cap it 
 could be seen that he was bald. 
 This man was Matriona's father, 
 a man known to the whole 
 village for his extraordinary 
 strength and desperate poverty. 
 The latter misfortune might 
 16
 
 242 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 perhaps be accounted for by 
 Tereshko's fondness for strong 
 drink, and Artem was somewhat 
 surprised at seeing him sober on 
 a holiday. 
 
 " Why, Tereshko, how's this 
 that to-day you are not . . . ? " 
 
 " Not drunk ? " interrupted 
 Tereshko. 
 
 " Well, yes! It seems strange, 
 somehow ! " 
 
 " Ha, ha ! Well, it would not 
 do to-day ! I mustn't go to the 
 public-house : it won't do to lose 
 this fine weather ; I must get to 
 work ! I have got nothing left 
 at all at home ; they tell me I've 
 drunk it all, but upon my word 
 there never was much there to 
 drink. And now, you see, I have 
 gone in for a new suit : things are 
 looking up with us now ! " And 
 Tereshko complacently twirled 
 his moustaches, which were truly 
 of Cossack dimensions. " But 
 what I wanted to ask you is 
 whether you have come here for 
 a job ? " 
 
 " Well, what if I have ? "
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 243 
 
 " What made you go to that 
 rogue for a job : he's a merce- 
 nary dog of a fellow ! Why, 
 don't you know that he is ready 
 to lick the matoushka's shoes ? 
 You had far better go to the 
 office at Kousminski : they will 
 take you on there without asking 
 any questions, because they are 
 short of hands, and they are 
 anxious enough to find any of 
 our fellows to take a job. I am 
 working for them myself, so we 
 may as well go down there 
 together. It's not more than a 
 short five versts from here. Ah, 
 Artem Maximovitch, this is a 
 wonderful time we are having 
 now, I tell you the truth. I've 
 lived forty-two years on the 
 earth, and have never seen the 
 like of it before. There will be 
 some profit for our fellows at 
 last ! Truly God has at last had 
 pity on them." 
 
 Artem accepted Tereshko's 
 proposal without much hesita- 
 tion. He then delivered Matri- 
 ona's message.
 
 244 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 " Ha, ha ! My Matriona is a 
 sharp girl ! " remarked Tereshko, 
 in a tone expressive of satisfac- 
 tion. " I've thought before now 
 of taking her away. Why should 
 she slave away there for nothing ? 
 I shall take her off to-morrow to 
 Kousminski to get her a job. She 
 will get work at raking up the 
 hay. She is a first-rate hand at 
 that." 
 
 To judge by Tereshko's re- 
 marks about his daughter, one 
 could see that she occupied a 
 big place in her father's heart. 
 This was easy to understand, 
 for she was his only surviving 
 daughter, her sisters having all 
 been carried off one unlucky 
 winter by an epidemic of diph- 
 theria. 
 
 It was about noon when 
 Artem, having visited his wife 
 and children, returned to his 
 post. 
 
 " It's dinner-time! " exclaimed 
 Marfa to him, as he entered the 
 yard gate. 
 
 " It's not time," rejoined
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 245 
 
 Artem, with a preoccupied air. 
 " Where are the bdtioushka and 
 matoushka ? " 
 
 The priest and his wife were 
 in the sitting-room, and Artem 
 repaired thither unannounced. 
 When he appeared the matoushka 
 hastily disappeared, so that he 
 only caught sight of her retreat- 
 ing figure as he entered. Father 
 Leo, this time arrayed in his 
 ordinary coat, was just sitting 
 down to dinner. Before him 
 was set out a decanter of vodka 
 and a dish of herrings, prepared 
 by Argrafena Ivanovna herself. 
 
 " Ah, that's right, Artem 
 Maximovitch ! " exclaimed the 
 priest in a very friendly manner. 
 " I like to see you come of your 
 own accord before dinner ; you 
 must look after yourself a little, 
 you know ! If you had only 
 done this before, there would 
 have always been a glass ready 
 for you! " 
 
 Saying this, Father Leo began 
 to pour out a glass of vodka, 
 evidently intended for Artem.
 
 246 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 " Thank you kindly ; only I 
 have not come for that." 
 
 " Well, what have you come 
 for ? " 
 
 ( * To settle up my account ! I 
 humbly pray you to reckon up 
 my wages due ! " 
 
 This answer completely took 
 the bdtioushka by surprise, and for 
 a moment he had no reply ready 
 to hand. This caused him to re- 
 flect for a couple of minutes, an 
 act which cost him no small 
 effort. 
 
 " But look here ! have you any 
 cause for dissatisfaction ? " 
 
 This question provoked an 
 almost imperceptible smile on 
 Artem's features. It seemed 
 strange that it should be neces- 
 sary for the bdtioushka to ask such 
 a question. 
 
 " Oh no . . . that is to say, 
 not in particular. . . . But you 
 know every one has to look out 
 for himself. ..." 
 
 ** Well, of course I don't deny 
 the truth of that," said Father 
 Leo, in a conciliatory manner ;
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 247 
 
 " but still, my friend, you must 
 surely have some good reason 
 for what you are doing ! Listen 
 to me, Artem Maximovitch ; we 
 will be plain with one another 
 I, as the pastor, as the good 
 pastor, and you as the spiritual 
 son, as the obedient spiritual 
 son! ... " 
 
 With these words Father Leo 
 got up, approached Artem, and 
 laid his hand on his shoulder 
 an action usually resorted to by 
 this good pastor in his friendly 
 admonition of the parishioners. 
 
 " We will be plain with one 
 another ! " continued he in a 
 voice now becoming pathetic and 
 even tremulous with emotion 
 " I will not dispute the fact that 
 you have been uncomfortable in 
 my service. I can see it myself 
 now, but it was really an over- 
 sight. . . . You know the ma- 
 toushka seems to be exacting, but 
 she is really a good soul ! You 
 know how I am situated ; she 
 has to look after everything her- 
 self, and this is really impossible
 
 248 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 for one person; . . . but in future 
 I intend to take care and see for 
 myself that the servants are well 
 looked after. And there is another 
 thing I have to say to you. We 
 are not wild beasts, we are human 
 beings after all. ... I admit 
 that I think your salary is low. 
 According to the winter scale of 
 prices it is perhaps not too low. 
 Work is light in winter, and is, 
 to a great extent, indoors ; . . . 
 but now, I admit, things are 
 different, and I offer to increase 
 your pay. ... I will give 
 you ninety roubles instead of 
 forty. ... So you see that, 
 after all, we do think a little 
 about your interests. ..." 
 
 " I thank you sincerely, bd- 
 tioushka, but nevertheless I must 
 ask you to settle up with me. I 
 am afraid that I cannot possibly 
 accept your offer. ..." And 
 Artem bowed low to the priest. 
 
 Atthis momentthe door opened 
 and Tereshko entered. His first 
 action was to cross himself in 
 front of the icon (Tereshko was a
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 249 
 
 devout man), and he then bowed 
 to Father Leo. 
 
 "Good day, Terenti ! What 
 brings you here ? 
 
 "At your service, sir ! " replied 
 Tereshko, in a quiet manner. 
 " I've come to fetch my daughter, 
 so will you kindly settle up her 
 account with me ? " 
 
 Father Leo was thoroughly 
 nonplussed this time. He was 
 beginning to feel bored by all 
 this business ; he felt quite weak 
 and tired, and was longing to get 
 back to bed again. He was not 
 a man of ready wit, and had no 
 sort of idea of getting himself 
 out of a difficult situation. At 
 this moment, however, assistance 
 of an unexpected nature arrived : 
 the door leading out of the sitting- 
 room was burst open, and Agra- 
 fena Ivanovna impulsively rushed 
 in. One could foretell by her 
 purple countenance, and her eye- 
 balls rolling about, that a storm 
 was brewing, and that her pent- 
 up wrath must ere long burst
 
 250 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 forth. It was equally obvious 
 that she must have been stand- 
 ing behind this same door during 
 the above described conversa- 
 tion, and that she had overheard 
 everything. 
 
 " No ! " she thundered forth in 
 a terrifying voice. " This is 
 more than I can stand. I have 
 endured and suffered long enough; 
 this is too much ! What's the 
 meaning of this ? You've been 
 conspiring, have you ? Canaille, 
 brigands, rogues, cut-throats ! 
 O-o-o ! I can't stand it any 
 longer. You want to be paid 
 off ? Money given you ? Your 
 passports handed back ? Is that 
 so ? Perhaps you don't want 
 them? No? You don't ! "(at 
 this the matoushka snapped her 
 fingers contemptuously) "Clear 
 out this minute ! What are you 
 standing there for ? Be off with 
 you, I say ! Collect your goods 
 and chattels, your beggarly rags, 
 and don't let me catch sight of 
 you again ! " 
 
 Ter6shko and Artern thought
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 25 1 
 
 it best to clear out while they 
 could do so with a whole skin, 
 and the matoushka accompanied 
 them beyond the yard gates, all 
 the while giving vent to her 
 feelings with violent words. Her 
 classic words were audible for 
 fully five hundred yards around. 
 At the sound of her voice some 
 of the more curious of the people 
 came together to hear her and 
 admire this edifying scene, and 
 the female part of the assembly, 
 whose tongues never tire of wag- 
 ging, made biting remarks: "How 
 abusive she is ! " " She's not in 
 our style ! " or else, " Take a 
 lesson from her, women, if you 
 wish to learn how to swear 
 properly ! " The matoushka sur- 
 passed herself on this occasion. 
 She expressed wishes that never 
 were likely to be realised as, for 
 instance, that Artem with his 
 whole family, his hut, and even 
 his dogs and calves (which un- 
 fortunately he did not possess), 
 might sink into the earth ; she 
 even invoked the blameless shade
 
 252 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 of the late Maxim Klad'ko in 
 heaven, wishing that he might 
 turn in his grave seven times. 
 Concerning Tereshko, she prayed 
 that he, his children and belong- 
 ings might be utterly consumed 
 and return to ashes. Finally, 
 the matoushka having exhausted 
 all the expressions at her dis- 
 posal, expressed a wish that the 
 earth might open and swallow up 
 Kramarievka. 
 
 Fortunately this petition re- 
 mains unanswered. 
 
 On the following day our 
 heroes were hard at work in 
 the fields. At the Kousminski 
 office no unpleasant questions 
 had been asked about passports, 
 &c, for they had no reason for so 
 doing, besides which it was not 
 the time to bother about pass- 
 ports, especially as the applicants 
 were well known to the other 
 labourers. Tereshko and Artem, 
 wielding their scythes in mag- 
 nificent style, worked in the 
 foremost rank of the reapers : 
 Matriona was sustaining her
 
 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 253 
 
 reputation in the raking depart- 
 ment, to the delight of her ad- 
 miring parent, Tereshko. Close 
 by was Marfa, working with her 
 might and main not to be left 
 behind : the bitter experience 
 of solitude in the matoushkas 
 kitchen had proved too much for 
 her, and so she had quietly col- 
 lected her belongings, consisting 
 of a few wretched worn-out rags 
 given her by her mistress when 
 in one of her "tenderer moods," 
 and, unobserved by any one, 
 had slipped out of the priest's 
 house. 
 
 From the eastern side of the 
 sky the .morning sun poured 
 out its gladdening rays ; the 
 fresh morning breeze whistled 
 joyously, fondly caressing the 
 silken tops of the luxuriant grass 
 which covered the level, bound- 
 less steppe ; the larks warbled 
 cheerfully, the sparrows twittered 
 . . . and our heroes looked gladly 
 on this scene of abundance sent 
 by God, with the feelings ex- 
 perienced by those who find
 
 254 AN OCCASIONAL HOLIDAY. 
 
 themselves at liberty again on 
 a bright sunny spring day, after 
 long years of grievous imprison- 
 ment. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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