Annals of a sportsman

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Contents

Imtroductoby V

I. Thb Bukgomastbk, I

II. jBRMOLAl AND THE MILIXR's WIFE, . . . I6

Chapter I

ABOUT fifty verste^ from my country place lives a young proprietor of my acquaintance, Arcadi Pavlitcn Pe^ notchkine. There is a great deal of game on his land, his house is built after the plans of a French architect, and his servants are dressed in the English fashion ; he has an excellent table, and receives (lis guests courteously. Yet with all this one has no great desire to go to his house. He is a hard, shrewd man ; he received, as is customary, an excellent education, and served in the army ; he has seen something of society, and he now gives his attention with success to the management of his estates. Arcadi Pavlitch is, as he himself says, severe but just; he takes a great interest in the welfare of his serfs, and punishes them only for their good. "Tliey need to be treated like children," he says in speaking of this; " ignorance, miwi cher, it faut prendre cela en consideration." ' When he finds himself put to this sad necessity, no sign of anger betrays what he feels ; be does not like to raise bis voice, but jerks his arm out sharply.and confines himself to saying with perfect calmness, " I have spoken to you of this before, my friend." Or again ; " What possesses you, my friend ? Come to your senses." But in saying this, he sets his teeth slightly and the lines about his

I. Tbia name la giren ia Russia to [be mayon of ]aige Tilloeo ; Ihcy are

a. The ivrifi la abaul an eigbib of a mile.

3. All ibe French phiaies leuiaed in ihe leal: aie ia Freacb In tbe RuuIbd mouth contract. Arcadi Pavlitch is of medium height, his figure is fine, his features are not wanting in a certain charm, and he takes very great care o£ bis hands and nails ; his cheeks and red hps glow with health, he laughs loud and heartily, and he can, if necessary, give to his light eyes a pleasing twinkle that makes his manners still more attractive. He dresses with taste, buys French books and prints, lakes the papers — although reading has no particular charm for him : it was as much as he could do to get through the Juif-Errant. He is an excellent card-player. In a word, Arcadi Pavlitch is one of the most accomplished seigneurs, and one of the best matches in the government; women rave over him and go into ecstasies over the elegance of his manners. But with all this, he is extremely reserved, cautious as a cat, and is never mixed up in any compromising affair ; yet, on occasion, he is not above putting himself forward to the extent of contradicting a timid man so as to put him entirely out of countenance. He is a pronounced enemy of bad company, and above all dreads any breach of the usages demanded by society ; notwithstanding which in moments of good humor he affects to be an epicurean. But yet he has little respect for philosophy; he calls it the vaporous food of the German intellect, and at times even treats it as insipid trash. He is familiar with music; while playing cards, ne often sings in a low voice with much expression ; he knows by heart a few passages from Lucia and Sonnambula, but he generally pitches them a little too high. He passes his winters at Petersburg. His house in town, as well as his house in the country, is kept with the greatest care; the influence that he has on his servants in this respect is so great that even his coachmen feel it : not only do they take the greatest care of the harness and clean their own clothes, but they wash their faces. It is true that all his Avormii^ generally have rathera surljj look; however, one must not judge anything by that, for it is almost impossible, as every one knows, to make out in our dear country whether it is rancor or sleep that troubles the features of a servant. Arcadi Pavlitch speaks in a sweet though shrill voice; he pronounces slowly,and seems to confide the words

I. Domestic Kria laliea from among the peasacls. They form a cluu by tbattbtrpwn aipeaunu. They are dieued like Europeans. This dasa,ar that he speaks to his fine perfumed mustaches with satisfaction. In conversation he makes use on every occasion of a great number of French eipressions— as, for example, Mais с est impayable/ Mais comment done t etc. Whatever the reason may be, I repeat it, one does not care to go to his house ; and as for me, I do so almost with reluctance ; it is very likely that if it had not been for his partridges and grouse I should have had nothing to do with him. When you enter his house a strange restlessness comes over you ; all the conveniences there are comfortless. When a servant comes to you in the evening, curled and in light blue livery, with a crest on the buttons, and applies himself with the greatest zeal to taking ой your boots, instead of his p thin face you would like to see the large cheek-bones and flat nose of a young rustic just taken away from the plough by his master, but who has already had time to rip the s of his nankeen kaftan' that has just been put on him : this change would cause you inexpressible pleasure, and you would willingly run the risk of having your feec wrenched by the awkwardness of this improvised valet.

Notwithstanding ray dislike of Arcadi Pavlitch, I once chanced to pass the night with him. The nest day, at dawn, I ordered my carriage ; but he would not let me go away without breakfasting й I'an^laise. and he took rae to his own room. Tea, chops, boiled eggs, butter, honey, cheese, etc., were brought in. Two footmen,, whose gloves were of an irreproachable whiteness, waited on us in silence and with great skill and attention ;' they divined our slightest wish. We were seated on a divan like Persians. Arcadi Pavlitch wore long silk trousers, a black velvet jacket, a handsome fez with a dark blue tassel, and his yellow Chinese slippers were without heels. He drank tea, laughed, examined his nails, smoked, leaned carelessly back on the cushions that were about him, and seemed in every respect to be in tlie best of humors. After he had eaten with a good appetite and evident satisfaction, he poured out a glass of red wine and put it to his lips ; but his face immediately darkened.

" Why was not this wine warmed ?" he asked, in rather an abrupt tone, of one of the footmen.

The footman was confused, stood still as if he had been suddenly petrified, and became very pale.

I, A loDg frock-coat without buttons.

THE BURGOMASTER.

"It seems to me I asked you a Ф1е!

leaving his place, twisted mechanically between his fingers the napkin that he held, and did not utter a word.

Arcadi Pavlitch bowed his head, glanced at the guilty man, and seemed to reflect.

" Pardon, топ cker" he soon said to me with a gracious smile, placing his hand in a friendly way on mv knee; then he again looked at the footman. "Well, then, go!" he said to him after a moment's silence; and resuming his usual expression, he rang.

A thick-set man, with swarthy complexion, black hair and retreating forehead, and eyes swimming in fat, appeared before us.

" Let them make then ecessary preparations — for Theodore," said Arcadi Pavlitch, in a low voice and a perfectly

" You shall be obeyed," answered the large man, and he disappeared.

" Voilct, man cher. Us disagr^ments de la campagne" Arcadi Pavlitch remarked gayly. "But where are you going? Stay here a little longer."

" No," I replied ; " it is time tor me to go."

" Always shooting ! Ah ! sportsmen are really terrible. But which way are you going now ?"

" Forty verstes from here, to Rebova."

" To R^bova ? Ah ! but in that case I will go with you. R^bova is only five verstes from my countrj^ place of Cnipilofka, where I have not been for a long time ; I have not been able to find a moment's time for that. But this is just the thing. You can shoot all day, and return in the evening to my house. Ce sera charmant ; 1 will take a cook, we will sup together, and you shall sleep at Chipilofka. That's the idea! that's the idea 1" he added, without waiting an answer. " Cest arrange. Hey ! who's there ? Let them hitch up the carriage, and as quickly as possible. You have never been to Chipilofka ? I should scruple to ask you to pass the night there in my Burgomaster's house, where I usually stay ; but 1 know that you are not hard to please, and besides at Rebova you would have to sleep just the same in the bam on the hay. Let us be off I let us be off !" and Arcadi Pavlitch sang some French song or other.

"Perhaps you don't know," he resumed, swaying from

'^'-6'^- side to side, "that my peasants are i fabrok-^ how can it be helped? Yet they pay me very regularly. A long time ago, I admit, 1 would have put them under feudal service, but the village has too little land for that. I am astonished that they could ever make l)Oth ends meet ; but tfesi Uur affaire. I have yonder a Burgomaster who is a fine fellow !

ane forte Ше. He is really a man of executive abihty ; you shall see for yourself. Ah! realiy, this is very opportune."

There was nothing to be done. Instead of starting out immediately, we were not on our way before two in the afternoon. Sportsmen will understand my disappointment. At times Arcadi Pavlitch lilted, as he himself said, to taite his ease. Consequently he took such a quantity of linen, clothes, perfumes, cushions, and necessaries of every kind as would have lasted an economical German for more than a year. Every time we went down hill he spoke shortly, but sharply, to his coachman, from which I thought 1 had a right to conclude that my dear neighbor was a great coward. Yet the journey came to an end very happily ; the only accident that happened had no disagreeable consequences. One of the hind wheels of the UUga^ which carried the cook broke through a bridge that had just been repaired, this important personage receiving a slight blow in the stomach. When Arcadi Pavhtch saw the danger that Careme, the cook, ran, he was really frightened, and sent to find out whether he had hurt his hand ; but as the answer that was brought him completely reassured him as to this, he resumed his usual placidity. We went along somewhat slowly, and towards the end of our journey 1 felt extremely tired ; I sat at Arcadi Pavlitch 's side, and at the end of an hour's conversation he took up liberalism, for want of a better subject.

We at last came to Chipilofka and not to Rebova; the coachman did not know how it happened. But it was already too late to shoot that day, and I made up my mind willingly or unwillingly to endure my lot with resignation.

The cook, who had arrived a few moments before us, had had time to make all the necessary arrangements, and inform all who could have any interest in it oTour arrival.

As we entered the village we met the Starosta* (the Burgomaster's son) ; he was a sturdy peasant, with red hair.

a. A very Ught four-whrelert can.

3. A title inieiisr 10 Ibat of Bursomaitci о THE BURGOMASTER.

and of gigantic height. He was waiting for us on his horse, his hat off, and arrayed in a new armial^ that had no belt,

"Where is Safrone?" asked Pavlitch.

The enormous Starosta jumped to the ground, and bowing profoundly to his master, said to him, " Good-day, my father Arcadi Pavhtch ;" then drawing himself up to his full height, and throwing back his hair by a shake of the head, he added that Safrone had gone to Petrova. but that he had been sent for.

" Well, then, follow us," Arcadi Pavlitch said to him ; and we started off.

The Starosta drew up his horse by the side of the road out of respect to us, jumped on its back, and began to follow our carriage at a full trot, but with his hat still in his hand. While going through the village we met several peasants with empty telegas ; their legsTiung out of these rustic vehicles, the jolting of which made them bounce in the air every minute ; they were returning from work and singing at the top of their voices. But as soon as they saw our carriage and the Starosta they became silent, took off their fur hats (though it was midsummer), and rose up as if they were waiting for orders. Arcadi Pavlitch bowed to them in a dignified manner as we passed. An unaccustomed stir soon spread throughout the village. The peasant-women in striped skirts were throwing sticks at the dogs who were so zealous, or so undiscerning, as to welcome us with their barkings. A lame old man, whose white beard grew almost to his eyes, hastily took away from the drinking-fountain a horse that he had just led there who was not yet through drinking, and, after kicking him in the side without the slightest cause, greeted us. Children in long shirts' ran off howling as we came up, and lay down flat on their stomachs upon the door-sills, lowered their heads, raised their feet in the air, and in this posture slid to the bottom of the dark jAwi" of their respective houses, which they did not leave again.. Even the chickens fled into the yards. A cock with a black breast shining like a satin waistcoat, and a scarlet tail floating in the breeze, was the only living being

I, All «итшсг iQ the TillagEB the childnn oaly wear (alraight) sbitU, gathered ia at the wsin by a naircw bell, and go barefooted.

3. A CDoL room wilfaout windows, aad which takfs the place of the antedumber in the bouses of the Russian peasautB. The door-iill ia geneiall; Teiy high.

that had had the audacity to remain in the road as we approached, and he was even preparing to crow, when suddealy he became disturbed and took to flight in his turn.

The But^omaster's house was by itself, in the middle of an enclosure sown with hemp, then in full growth. The carriage stopped before the door. Penotchkine arose, and with a very picturesque movement letting the cloak that was thrown over his shoulders slip ofi, he alighted, looking benevolentlv about him. The Burgomaster's wife came towards us with many bows and put her lips to the seignorial hand. Arcadi Pavlitch let her cover it with kisses, and then walked down the steps. The Starosta's wife was squatting in a dark corner on the floor of the front room ; she bowed to her master, but did not dare to kiss his hand. In the summer-chamber,' which was to the right of that in which we were, two other peasants were busy putting the place in order in great haste ; they took from it a lot of rubbish, empty jar?, touloupes' with skin hardened by long usage, butter-pots, and a cradle full of different-colored rags, holding a nursing infant ; they swept up the dirt that covered the floor with the bundle of branches that they used in the bath.' Arcadi Pavlitch sent them away and sat down on the bench near the images.* The coachmen began to bring in the trunks, the money-bcoes, and other objects, trying to make as little noise as possible with their heavy boots.

During this time Arcadi Pavlitch was asking the Starosta about the crops and other things that appertained to agricultural economy. The Starostas answers were satisfactoiy. but his manner was awkward and embarrassed ; one would have imagined that he was trying to button his kaftan in the middle of winter with fingers numb from cold. He stood near the door and kept turning his head as if afraid something would happen to him ; he also took a great deal of interest in the incessant comings and goings of the footmen. Though he almost entirely hid the door from me, I saw behind him, in the front room, the Burgomaster's wife, who was belaboring another peasant. But soon a noise of wheels was heard, and a telega stopped before the house : the Burgomaster came into Ле room.

This administrator, as Arcadi Pavlitch called him, was short, but his shoulders were broad, and though his hair was gray, he was still in his prime ; his nose was red, his eyes were a grayish blue, and bis beard was huge. Here I must make the following observation: Since Russia has existed, those who have become rich wear an immense beard. Some peasant whom we know has rather a scanty beard ; some fine day we meet him and notice with amazement that his face is en~ circled with a veritable halo. Where does this ornament come from?

The Burgomaster seemed to have enjoyed himself very much at Petrova; he exhaled adecidedodor of brandy, and his face was somewhat bloated.

"Ah ! you our fathers, our benefactors," he began to exclaim in a high drawling voice, giving such a keen expression of tenderness to his face that he seemed on the point of shedding a torrent of tears, — " then you have condescended to come and see us ! Your little hand, my father, your dear hand I" he added, putting out his lips eagerly,

Arcadi Pavlitch hastened to gratify this proof of attachment.

" Well, father Safrone, how are things getting on ?" he then asked the Burgomaster in almost a caressing tc to honor our poor village with your presence ; you Have filled us with happiness for the rest of our days, God be praised ! Arcadi Pavlitch ; God be praised ! Everything goes well, thanks to your kindness."

After saying this, Safrone became silent and remained quiet for a moment, his eyes fixed on his master ; but a new burst of feeling (which became more and more maudlin) took possession of him ; he began to kiss Arcadi Pavlitch's hands more than ever, and then restimed in the same tone,

•'Ah! very merciful fathers — and — what more? May God forgive me, but I really think joy is making me mad. Yes. I take God to witness, I can't believe my eyes. Ah ! fathers."

Arcadi Pavlitch cast a meaning glance at me, smiled, and said, " Iv'esi ce pas que c'est touchantt"

" But. my father Arcadi Pavlitch, " continued the irrepressible Burgomaster, "why were you not pleased '

me of your coming? lamin '■ ■""" " — "

the night ? Everting here Ie

"That's no matter, Safrone; that's no matter," answered

Arcadi Pavlitch with a smile. " It's all right here."

" Yea, for us peasants," said Safrone i " but for you ? Ah ! you our fathers, our benefactors Г

But in the mean while supper was broi^ht in. Arcadi Pavlitch sat down to the table. Safrone sent away his son, telling him he tainted the air.

"Well, have you finished the surveys, my old fellow?" Penotchkine asked him, trying lo imitate the peasant's talk ; and he looked at me with a satisfied air.

"The surveys are all done, my father," answered Safrone, "thanks to your kindness. Three days ago the contract was signed. The Klinovas at first did not like it ; yes, they did not like it at all. They demanded — they demanded— God knows what I But they are a lot of fools, my father ; those people aresiliy. As tous,myfather, thanks to your goodness, we are all through, and we have thanked^ Nicolal Nikolaitch, the surveyor. Still conforming to your orders, father ; that is, paying' ^or Dmitrich."

"Egor told me of it," said Penotchkine in consequential tones. " Now, then, are you satisfied ?"

"Ah! you our fathers, our benefactors !" suddenly cried Safrone, who had been waiting for this question some time, "why should we not be? We pray to God for you night and day. There is no doubt the village has not enough land — "

" All right, all right, Safrone,' said Penotchkine, interrupting him ; " I know you are a faithful servant. And the thrashing, how is that getting on ?"

"The thrashing, father, I must admit," replied Safrone, uttering a deep sigh, ",has not come to much. But, Arcadi Pavlitch, let me tell you something that happened to us;" and here, with his arms apart, he came towards his master, and bending his head, he said to him, shutting one eye, " A dead body has been found on our land."

" What S that ?" said Penotchkine quickly.

" I know nothing about it myself, my good father;the devil doubtless has a hand in it. But fortunately the body, though on our land, was verv near our boundaries. I immediately ordered them to drag it into our neighbor's field before it was too late. Then 1 put a watch there, and said to ourpeople, 'Saynotbing about it I lorderit!' Moreover

I. Thi» Dtcani in RtUBii tbat money and pmeata are gircn to gOTCnimeiit lO THE BURGOMASTER.

I then explained it all to the stanavoi,' treating him to tea. and then as was right I thanked him. Would you believe it, father? The blame was laid on others, and a dead body is not a small aflair, as you know; it cost at least two hundred roubles, as true as you must pay five kopeks for a kalaUhr '

Penotchkine was very much pleased with the skill the Burgomaster had shown about this, and repeated to me several times, "' Quel' gaillard! heinf"

But it was already night. Arcadi Pavlitch ordered the table to be cleared, and hay to be brought. The footmen spread out the bedclothes, put the pillows in place, and we went to bed. Safrone also withdrew, after he had taken his master's orders for the next day. As he was falling asleep, Penotchkine again recurred to the excellent qualities of the Russian peasant, and recalled the fact that since the day Safrone had been appointed Burgomaster the peasants of Chipilofka had regularly paid their rent. — The watchman struck on his planche,' a child not yet old enough to be imbued with the respect due his lord began to cry somewhere about the house i we soon fell asleep.

The next morning we awoke quite early. I was getting ready to go to Rebova. but Arcadi Pavlitch insisted that I should see his property ; and as 1 was not sorry to examine for myself the merits of this model administrator who governed the village, I consented to go with him. The Burgomaster appeared ; he had on a blue armiak and a red kouchackr He was not so talkative as the night before ; he looked attentively at bis master, and answered his questions witli much tact and intelligence. We went with him to the thrashing-floor; his son, the gigantic Starosta, who from all appearances was a man of shallow mind, joined us, with the semskoi* Fedoceitch, a retired soldier with an enormous pair of mustaches and the strangest face imaginable : one would have thought that he had once had a terrible fright, and that he was still laboring under the effects of it.

We visited the thrashing-floor, the drying-rooms, the barns, the windmill, the poultry-yards, the orchards, and the

1. Police offiQiroflheiii-'-"

THE BURGOMASTER. II

hemp-fields : everything was indeed in perfect order. I was somewhat surprised, however, at the sad and downcast look of all the peasants whom we came across. Yet Safrone had not entirely sacrificed the ornamental to the useful : all the streams were lined with willows, and little paths well sanded were marked out in the thrashing-floor between the stacks. He had had put on the mil! a weathercock which represented a bear with his mouth open and a long fiery-red tongue ; and on the g^^y pediment that he had added to the body_ of the stable-building were these words traced in lime : " Built in the village of Chipilofka, in the year one thousand eight hundred and forty; this farm-yard." Arcadi Pavlitch was delighted ; he began to explain in French the advantages that the system of rents offered, without denying, however, that that of feudal services was yet more profitable for the lord. " But what can be done P" He then tried to give the Burgomaster advice as to the way in which potatoes should he planted, the care that was necessary about cattlefood, etc. Safrone listened attentively to his master, but did not always approve of what he said, and did not call him father or benefactor ; on the contrary, very often he recurred to the small amount of land that the village owned, and added that it would be a good thing to buy soroe more.

" Well, then, buy some," Arcadi Pavlitch said at last, " but in my name ; I have no objection to it."

The Burgomaster did not answer, but stroked his beard.

" Now let us go and see the woods," said Penotchkine.

Saddle-horses were immediately brought us, and we started off in their direction. The woods were extremely thick ; Penotchkine complimented Safrone on them, and even tapped him in a friendly manner on the shoulder. He stuck to the old ideas of the country with respect to the growing of woods ; and about this he told me what he thought one of the best of jokes, that a wag of a proprietor dared to tear out half of his forester's beard m order to show him that cutting did not make woods thicker. Yet Safrone and his master were not pronounced enemies against all innovations. When we went back to the village, the Burgomaster took us to see ■ a sieve chat hadjust come from Moscow. This machine did its work very effectually; but if Safrone could have foreseen the disagreeable consequences that awaited him and his master from this last visit, it is likely th^ he would have spared

On leaving the bam, we saw the following sight : At a few steps from the door two peasants were standing near a muddy pool of water in which several ducks were lazily paddling about. One was an old man of about sixty, the other a boy of twenty. They wore thick linen shirts' made in the village ; a cord served as a belt, and they were barefooted.

The zemskol Fedoceiteh walked about them with an ansious air, and it is probable that he might have induced them to go away if we had been a little longer in looking at the sieve. But as soon as he saw us he took the position of an unarmed soldier, and never left it. The Starosta was also at the aide of the two peasants ; his mouth was open and his fists clenched, but he seemed undecided as to what he should do. Arcadi Pavlitch frowned, bit his lip, and approached the peasants ; they threw themselves at his feet,

"What do you wish of me? What is all this about?" he asked them in a severe and nasal voice.

The peasants looked ai each oiher without saying a word ; but they blinked their eyes a little, аз one does when the sun* is too bright, and breathed quickly.

"Well, what is it?" repeated Arcadi Pavlitch in the same tone, and he turned to the Burgomaster. " To what family do they belong ?"

" To the Toboleleffs," answered the Burgomaster slowly.

" Well, what do you wish of me ?" resumed Penotchkine. •Have you no tongue, hey? Answer. What do you want ?" he continued, looking at the old man. "Come! don't be afraid, fool."

The old man stretched out his long wrinkled sun-burnt neck ; his pale lips contracted, and he answered in a hoarse voice, "Protect us, seigneur," and again threw himself on the ground, striking it with his forehead. The young peasant followed his example. Arcadi Pavlitch fixed his glance on their necks with a dignified air, threw his head back, and spread his legs apart.

" What is it ? Of whom do you complain ?"

"Have pity on us, seigneur. Allow us to live. We are ruined." TheoM man expressed himself with difficulty.

"Who has ruined you?"

"Safrone Jakovlitch, my father."

Arcadi Pavlitch was silent. " What is your name ?"

" Antipe, my good father."

D tbe village wear > linea or calico ililrt hetd in by

THE BURGOMASTER. I3

"And he, who is he?"