I
It happened in the 'seventies in winter, on the day after St.
Nicholas's Day. There was a fete in the parish and the innkeeper,
Vasili Andreevich Brekhunov, a Second Guild merchant, being a
church elder had to go to church, and had also to entertain his
relatives and friends at home.But when the last of them had gone he at once began to
prepare to drive over to see a neighbouring proprietor about a
grove which he had been bargaining over for a long time. He was now
in a hurry to start, lest buyers from the town might forestall him
in making a profitable purchase.The youthful landowner was asking ten thousand rubles for the
grove simply because Vasili Andreevich was offering seven thousand.
Seven thousand was, however, only a third of its real value. Vasili
Andreevich might perhaps have got it down to his own price, for the
woods were in his district and he had a long-standing agreement
with the other village dealers that no one should run up the price
in another's district, but he had now learnt that some
timber-dealers from town meant to bid for the Goryachkin grove, and
he resolved to go at once and get the matter settled. So as soon as
the feast was over, he took seven hundred rubles from his strong
box, added to them two thousand three hundred rubles of church
money he had in his keeping, so as to make up the sum to three
thousand; carefully counted the notes, and having put them into his
pocket-book made haste to start.Nikita, the only one of Vasili Andreevich's labourers who was
not drunk that day, ran to harness the horse. Nikita, though an
habitual drunkard, was not drunk that day because since the last
day before the fast, when he had drunk his coat and leather boots,
he had sworn off drink and had kept his vow for two months, and was
still keeping it despite the temptation of the vodka that had been
drunk everywhere during the first two days of the
feast.Nikita was a peasant of about fifty from a neighbouring
village, 'not a manager' as the peasants said of him, meaning that
he was not the thrifty head of a household but lived most of his
time away from home as a labourer. He was valued everywhere for his
industry, dexterity, and strength at work, and still more for his
kindly and pleasant temper. But he never settled down anywhere for
long because about twice a year, or even oftener, he had a drinking
bout, and then besides spending all his clothes on drink he became
turbulent and quarrelsome. Vasili Andreevich himself had turned him
away several times, but had afterwards taken him back again—valuing
his honesty, his kindness to animals, and especially his cheapness.
Vasili Andreevich did not pay Nikita the eighty rubles a year such
a man was worth, but only about forty, which he gave him haphazard,
in small sums, and even that mostly not in cash but in goods from
his own shop and at high prices.Nikita's wife Martha, who had once been a handsome vigorous
woman, managed the homestead with the help of her son and two
daughters, and did not urge Nikita to live at home: first because
she had been living for some twenty years already with a cooper, a
peasant from another village who lodged in their house; and
secondly because though she managed her husband as she pleased when
he was sober, she feared him like fire when he was drunk. Once when
he had got drunk at home, Nikita, probably to make up for his
submissiveness when sober, broke open her box, took out her best
clothes, snatched up an axe, and chopped all her undergarments and
dresses to bits. All the wages Nikita earned went to his wife, and
he raised no objection to that. So now, two days before the
holiday, Martha had been twice to see Vasili Andreevich and had got
from him wheat flour, tea, sugar, and a quart of vodka, the lot
costing three rubles, and also five rubles in cash, for which she
thanked him as for a special favour, though he owed Nikita at least
twenty rubles.'What agreement did we ever draw up with you?' said Vasili
Andreevich to Nikita. 'If you need anything, take it; you will work
it off. I'm not like others to keep you waiting, and making up
accounts and reckoning fines. We deal straight-forwardly. You serve
me and I don't neglect you.'And when saying this Vasili Andreevich was honestly convinced
that he was Nikita's benefactor, and he knew how to put it so
plausibly that all those who depended on him for their money,
beginning with Nikita, confirmed him in the conviction that he was
their benefactor and did not overreach them.'Yes, I understand, Vasili Andreevich. You know that I serve
you and take as much pains as I would for my own father. I
understand very well!' Nikita would reply. He was quite aware that
Vasili Andreevich was cheating him, but at the same time he felt
that it was useless to try to clear up his accounts with him or
explain his side of the matter, and that as long as he had nowhere
to go he must accept what he could get.Now, having heard his master's order to harness, he went as
usual cheerfully and willingly to the shed, stepping briskly and
easily on his rather turned-in feet; took down from a nail the
heavy tasselled leather bridle, and jingling the rings of the bit
went to the closed stable where the horse he was to harness was
standing by himself.'What, feeling lonely, feeling lonely, little silly?' said
Nikita in answer to the low whinny with which he was greeted by the
good-tempered, medium-sized bay stallion, with a rather slanting
crupper, who stood alone in the shed. 'Now then, now then, there's
time enough. Let me water you first,' he went on, speaking to the
horse just as to someone who understood the words he was using, and
having whisked the dusty, grooved back of the well-fed young
stallion with the skirt of his coat, he put a bridle on his
handsome head, straightened his ears and forelock, and having taken
off his halter led him out to water.Picking his way out of the dung-strewn stable, Mukhorty
frisked, and making play with his hind leg pretended that he meant
to kick Nikita, who was running at a trot beside him to the
pump.'Now then, now then, you rascal!' Nikita called out, well
knowing how carefully Mukhorty threw out his hind leg just to touch
his greasy sheepskin coat but not to strike him—a trick Nikita much
appreciated.After a drink of the cold water the horse sighed, moving his
strong wet lips, from the hairs of which transparent drops fell
into the trough; then standing still as if in thought, he suddenly
gave a loud snort.'If you don't want any more, you needn't. But don't go asking
for any later,' said Nikita quite seriously and fully explaining
his conduct to Mukhorty. Then he ran back to the shed pulling the
playful young horse, who wanted to gambol all over the yard, by the
rein.There was no one else in the yard except a stranger, the
cook's husband, who had come for the holiday.'Go and ask which sledge is to be harnessed—the wide one or
the small one—there's a good fellow!'The cook's husband went into the house, which stood on an
iron foundation and was iron-roofed, and soon returned saying that
the little one was to be harnessed. By that time Nikita had put the
collar and brass-studded belly-band on Mukhorty and, carrying a
light, painted shaft-bow in one hand, was leading the horse with
the other up to two sledges that stood in the shed.'All right, let it be the little one!' he said, backing the
intelligent horse, which all the time kept pretending to bite him,
into the shafts, and with the aid of the cook's husband he
proceeded to harness. When everything was nearly ready and only the
reins had to be adjusted, Nikita sent the other man to the shed for
some straw and to the barn for a drugget.'There, that's all right! Now, now, don't bristle up!' said
Nikita, pressing down into the sledge the freshly threshed oat
straw the cook's husband had brought. 'And now let's spread the
sacking like this, and the drugget over it. There, like that it
will be comfortable sitting,' he went on, suiting the action to the
words and tucking the drugget all round over the straw to make a
seat.'Thank you, dear man. Things always go quicker with two
working at it!' he added. And gathering up the leather reins
fastened together by a brass ring, Nikita took the driver's seat
and started the impatient horse over the frozen manure which lay in
the yard, towards the gate.'Uncle Nikita! I say, Uncle, Uncle!' a high-pitched voice
shouted, and a seven-year-old boy in a black sheepskin coat, new
white felt boots, and a warm cap, ran hurriedly out of the house
into the yard. 'Take me with you!' he cried, fastening up his coat
as he ran.'All right, come along, darling!' said Nikita, and stopping
the sledge he picked up the master's pale thin little son, radiant
with joy, and drove out into the road.It was past two o'clock and the day was windy, dull, and
cold, with more than twenty degrees Fahrenheit of frost. Half the
sky was hidden by a lowering dark cloud. In the yard it was quiet,
but in the street the wind was felt more keenly. The snow swept
down from a neighbouring shed and whirled about in the corner near
the bath-house.Hardly had Nikita driven out of the yard and turned the
horse's head to the house, before Vasili Andreevich emerged from
the high porch in front of the house with a cigarette in his mouth
and wearing a cloth-covered sheep-skin coat tightly girdled low at
his waist, and stepped onto the hard-trodden snow which squeaked
under the leather soles of his felt boots, and stopped. Taking a
last whiff of his cigarette he threw it down, stepped on it, and
letting the smoke escape through his moustache and looking askance
at the horse that was coming up, began to tuck in his sheepskin
collar on both sides of his ruddy face, clean-shaven except for the
moustache, so that his breath should not moisten the
collar.'See now! The young scamp is there already!' he exclaimed
when he saw his little son in the sledge. Vasili Andreevich was
excited by the vodka he had drunk with his visitors, and so he was
even more pleased than usual with everything that was his and all
that he did. The sight of his son, whom he always thought of as his
heir, now gave him great satisfaction. He looked at him, screwing
up his eyes and showing his long teeth.His wife—pregnant, thin and pale, with her head and shoulders
wrapped in a shawl so that nothing of her face could be seen but
her eyes—stood behind him in the vestibule to see him
off.'Now really, you ought to take Nikita with you,' she said
timidly, stepping out from the doorway.Vasili Andreevich did not answer. Her words evidently annoyed
him and he frowned angrily and spat.