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Chapter 13 Ovsenikov (2)
"Yes," continued Ovsenikov, with a sigh, "time has passed since I was a man, and times have changed. Especially among the nobles, I have seen great changes. Territorial Those with a small number of landowners have either gone to work or are no longer living in the same place; those with a lot of territory need not say more. I have seen a lot of these big landowners when dividing land boundaries. I must tell you: I Looking at them, I am very happy. They are all kind and gentle. There is only one thing that surprises me: they are all well-read, and they speak well and touch people's hearts, but they don't understand practical issues, and they don't even know their own interests No maintenance. Their own serf stewards can tease them at will, like bending a horse's yoke. You should know Alexander Vladimirich Korolyov - he is an absolute nobleman, this man is handsome , well-to-do, well-educated, seems to have been abroad, speaks fluently, modestly, shakes hands with all of us. Do you know him? . . . Then listen to me. Ilyich's invitation to a party in Berezovka. The agent Nikifor Ilyich told us: 'Gentlemen, the boundaries must be drawn; our district is backward compared to all other districts, it is our Disgrace. Let's get to work.' So we got to work. As usual, after discussions and arguments, our agent lost his temper. The first to make a fuss was Ovchinnikov Porfiry... Why all the fuss?... He didn't have an inch of land himself, and was entrusted by his brother to do it. He shouted: 'No! You can't fool me! No, I'm not that kind of person! Get me a map! Take the measurements The traitor called here!''What do you want?''Damn it! Humph! Do you think I can make my demand now?... No, bring the map, that's it! ' He tapped his hand on the map. He insulted Marfa Dmitlevna again. She cried: 'How can you insult my reputation?' 'I,' he said,' It's not uncommon to give away your honor to my sorrel mare for free.' He was soothed and soothed with Madeira wine, and the others started to quarrel. Dear Alexander Vladmimi Lucy Korolev sat in the corner of the room biting his cane and just shook his head. I felt ashamed, couldn't help it, and wanted to run out. How does he feel about us? See Alexander Vladimir Qi stood up, as if about to speak. The manager became anxious and said: "Gentlemen, gentlemen, Alexander Vladimiritch is going to speak." Alexander Vladimilitch began to speak, saying: We may no longer remember why we met; besides, what is the real use of demarcation, although it is true that the lords are benefited?—Yes In order to lighten the burden on the peasants and make it easier for them to work, he can cope with labor; like now, he does not know where his fields are, and sometimes he often drives five versts to cultivate them, and he cannotpunish him.Then Alexander Vladimiritch said: The landlords are mainly concerned with the welfare of the peasants; and that, in short, if it is reasonable to say that their interests are the same as ours: if they are good, so are we; if they are miserable, so are we. Difficult...and said, therefore, that it would be sinful and foolish not to compromise for a trifle...and he said, and said...to say such things!A sentence goes deep into people's hearts... The nobles all lowered their heads, and I almost shed tears.To be honest, there is no such thing in ancient books... But what happened in the end?His own mossy marshes of four dessiatines were not relinquished, nor would he sell them.He said: 'I will have my servants clear up this moor, and set up an improved tweed mill upon it. ’ He said: ‘I have already decided to use this place, I have my own plans about it...’ It would be nice if it was true, but in fact it was because of Alexander Vladimirich Korolyov Neighbor Anton Karasikov did not give Korolyov's housekeeper a 100 ruble note and gave up.We therefore dispersed without finishing our work.Aleksandr Vladimiritch, still convinced himself that he was right, often talked about the tweed mill, but did not try to dry the swamp. "

"How does he do it on his own land?" "It's all new. The peasants don't like it—but don't listen to them. Alexander Vladimiritch is doing very well." "This Why, Luka Petrovich? I thought you were old-fashioned."

"I'm a different matter. I'm not an aristocrat, nor a landowner. My estate is nothing... and I know no other way of making money. I just want to do what's right and what's legal, and thank God The young gentlemen don't like the old fashion, I applaud them...it's time for brains. Only one thing is bad: the young gentlemen are very self-righteous. Dealing with farmers is like playing with puppets, playing with them for a while, breaking them No, no more. So the peasants are once again controlled by serf-born housekeepers or German deacons. It is best for one of these young gentlemen to set an example and point out how to deal with it!... The result is finally What is it like?...Could it be that I just died like this and no longer know the new situation? Why is there such a strange thing? It’s so incomplete!”

I don't know how to answer Ovsenikov.He looked back, came closer to me, and continued in a low voice:
"Have you heard anything about Vasily Nikolaich Liupozvonov?"

"Oh, never heard of it."

"Tell me, what a strange thing it is! I just can't make it out. It was said by his peasants, but I don't understand them. You know, he was a young man, and he got it from his mother not long ago. Received an inheritance. He went to his hereditary domain. The peasants gathered curiously to see their master. Vasily Nikolaitch went to see them. The peasants looked, how strange! The master wore velveteen trousers like a coachman, with lace on his boots; a red shirt, and a coat like a coachman; he had a beard, and a strange hat on his head, and he had a strange appearance. —said he was drunk, but not drunk, but mad. 'How are you,' he said, 'brothers! God be with you.' The peasants bowed to him—but Without talking, you know, they were all scared. He seemed very shy himself. He said to them: 'We are all Russians, I like everything Russian... I have a Russian soul, and I bleed Russian Blood...' Suddenly he issued an order: 'Hey, children, let's play a Russian folk song!' The peasants were completely stunned, their legs trembling. A brave man just started to sing, and squatted down immediately. Fell to the ground and hid behind others. It is strange: we also have such free-spirited landowners there, and famous swindlers, indeed, dressed like coachmen, played and danced by themselves, and sang with servants , drinking, eating and drinking with the peasants. But this Vasily Nikolaitch is like a lady, always reading and writing, or reciting hymns - not talking to others, afraid of meeting strangers. He often walked alone in the garden, perhaps because of loneliness or sadness. The former housekeeper was terrified at first, and before Vasily Nikolaitch came here, he went all over the farmhouse and asked everyone People bow - of course, the cat knows whose meat it is eating! The farmers feel hopeful, they think: 'Huh, man! I will investigate you later, you baby, you are going to be in trouble , you cheapskate! . . . ' But it didn't turn out that way—how can I explain it to you? Even God can't figure out what's going on! Go, Vasily Nikolaitch, and talk to him , but he himself blushed, and his breathing was very short: "You have to do things justly for me, and you must not oppress anyone, do you hear me?" But since then, he has never been allowed to come here! He lives in the He was like a stranger in his own territory. So the steward was relieved, but the peasants dared not go to Vasily Nikolaitch because they were afraid. There were even stranger things: The gentleman bowed to them and looked at them kindly, and they were terrified. What a strange thing it is, sir, tell me. . . Maybe I am confused, or old, or something--really Do not understand."

I told Ovsenikov that Mr. Liubozvonov might be ill.

"What's the matter! He's fat, fat-headed, very young...God knows!" Ovsenikov sighed deeply.

"Leaving aside the aristocracy," I began, "what can you tell me about the landowners, Luka Petrovitch?"

"No, forget it," he said hastily, "really ... I can tell you something, but forget it! (Ovsenikov waves his hand.) Let's drink tea . . . as peasants, as peasants. But honestly, what can we do?"

He stopped talking.Tea was served, and Tatiana Ilyinichna got up and sat down near us.During the night, she went out quietly many times and came back softly.The room was silent.Ovsenikov drank his tea slowly and solemnly, cup after cup.

"Mitya has just been here," said Tatiana Ilyinichna in a low voice.Ovsenikov frowned.

"What is he here for?" "To make amends." He shook his head.

"Well, tell me," he said, turning to me, "what am I going to do with my relatives? It's impossible to refuse them. . . . God gave me a nephew too. The boy is clever, it's true He's very knowledgeable, but I don't have much hope for him. He used to work in the official family, but he resigned because he had no way out... Is he a nobleman? Even if he was a nobleman, he would not be promoted to general immediately. Now he is At home... It's nothing, but who knew he became a litigator! Write complaints to the farmers, make reports, instigate the town police, expose surveyors, come and go in and out of hotels, and a group of philistines and hotels The yard sweepers. Isn't that the way to go? The district police chief and the county police chief have warned him many times. And yet he'll make them laugh, then get them in trouble again... Well, Is he still in your little room?" Turning to his wife, he added, "I know you, you are merciful and shelter him." Tatiana Ilyinichna bowed her head slightly, I smiled and blushed.

"Well, that's it," continued Ovsenikov... "Oh, you dote on him! Well, let him in—that's all, for the honor of the guest, I forgive the fool ... Well, call him, call him..."

Tatiana Ilyinichna went to the door and called out: "Mitya!" Mitya, a tall, well-built curly-haired young man of about twenty-eight years old, came into the room, saw me, and stood Stand by the door.His clothes were German, but the unnaturally large ruffles on his shoulders alone proved that they were not only made by Russian tailors, but in the true Russian style.

"Hey, come here, come here," said the old man, "what's there to be ashamed of? You have to thank your aunt for interceding for you... Well, sir, let me introduce you," he continued, pointing to Mitya. Said, "He's my own nephew, but I can't help him. It's the end of the road! (We both bow to each other.) Tell me, what did you do there? Why did they sue you, you say……"

(End of this chapter)