hunter notes

Chapter 34 Tatyana Borisovna and her nephew (1)
Dear readers and friends, let me hold your hand and let's go on a car trip together.The weather is sunny, and the sky in May shows a soft blue; the smooth young leaves of the firecracker willow are shining, as if they have just been washed; Grass stalks; to the left and right, on the long slopes of the broad hillocks, lush rye undulating gently with the breeze; small clouds cast faint shadows and wandered over it.In the distance are patches of green woods, some shining ponds, and several yellow villages.Many skylarks flew up, sang songs, swooped down, stretched their necks, and landed on the mound of soil; rooks stopped on the road, kept looking at you, and pressed their bodies against the ground, waiting for your arrival. The carriage passed, jumped twice, and flew away with difficulty; on the hill beyond the valley, a farmer was plowing; Walking behind the mother, you can even hear its high-pitched hiss.Our carriage drove into a birch forest, and a strong and fresh smell came out.The gate of the village has arrived.The coachman got out of the cart, the horse snorted, the side horse turned his head to look, the shaft horse swung its tail and leaned its head on the yoke... The gate slowly opened.The coachman gets into the carriage... let's go!Before our eyes is the village.After about five courtyards, we turned to the right, the carriage entered a depression, and then drove up the embankment.On the other side of the small pond, behind the round tops of the apple and lilac trees, was visible a plank roof with two chimneys, which had originally been red.The coachman drove along the wall to the left, entered the open gate amidst the furious and piercing barking of three very old shaggy dogs, and made a majestic circle of the large empty yard, past the stables. Near the storeroom, he gave a quick salute to a housekeeper who was crossing the high threshold into the open door of the storeroom, and finally stopped in front of the steps of a hut with mottled walls and bright windows. Car... We are at Tatiana Borisovna's house.You see, she has already opened the ventilation window herself, and she is standing by the window and nodding to us... Auntie, hello!
Tatiana Borisovna was a woman of about fifty, with large gray protruding eyes, a flat nose, rosy cheeks, and a double chin.Her face showed her kindness.She was married once, but soon became widowed.Tatyana Borisovna was a very fine woman.She stayed in her little estate, never went out, hardly had any contact with her neighbors, but liked to entertain young people.She came from a very poor landowner and had no education, so she could not speak French, and she had never been to Moscow—but for all that, she was simple and kind, generous in feeling and thought, and seldom contaminated It's amazing how often the wives of landowners on small estates have such bad habits... Let's be honest: a woman who lives in the country for a long time, lives in the back of the country, doesn't gossip, doesn't complain, it's no good Curtseys, no mourning, no nervousness, no paranoia from curiosity... what a miracle!She often wears a gray taffeta dress and a white cap with a snow-green ribbon on her head; she likes to eat, but never eats much; candied fruit, dried fruit, and pickles are all ordered to the housekeeper.What does she do all day, you ask?Do you want to read a book?No, she never reads.To be honest, the book was not printed for her... If there were no guests, my Tatyana Borisovna would sit by the window in winter, knitting socks; Cats, feed the pigeons... She hardly cares about housework.But Tatiana Borisovna was in high spirits when visitors came to her house—young people from the neighborhood whom she liked.She invited him to sit, offered him tea, listened to him, smiled at him, sometimes patted his face, but she seldom spoke.When someone is in trouble, she comforts them and helps them.Many people told her the inside story of their families and the secrets in their hearts with trust, and cried on her arms!She would often sit face to face with her visitor, leaning slightly on her elbow, looking into his eyes with pity, and smiling so kindly that the visitor could not help thinking: "What a lovely woman you are, Tatiana Borisovna. Let me tell you what is on my mind." In the small and cozy rooms of her house one felt comfortable and warm; and the weather in her house was often sunny, if it may be called that.Tatyana Borisovna was a wonderful woman, and yet no one was surprised by her, her soundness of mind, her strength of character, her generosity of manner, her sympathy for other people's misfortunes and joys, in a word, All her virtues seemed to be inherent in her.She got this without any labor or hard work... It is impossible to have any other views on her, so there is no need to thank her at all.She especially enjoyed watching young people playing and being mischievous.She folded her hands on her chest, raised her head, squinted her eyes, sat there with a smile, and suddenly exclaimed: "Oh, my children, children!..." Usually she wanted to get close to her and hold her hand. hand, and said to her: "Tell me, Tatyana Borisovna, you do not know your own worth, and even though you are simple and uneducated, you are a remarkable person!" Just talk about her Her name makes people feel kind and cordial. People like to call her by her name. Her name can make people smile kindly.

For example, I have several times asked peasants I met on the way, for example: "How do I get to Grachovka, brother?"

"Sir, you go to Fuyazovye first, and from there to Tatiana Borisovna, and everyone at Tatiana Borisovna will tell you about it." Speaking of Tatiana Borisovna When Borisovna's name was mentioned, the peasant nodded thoughtfully.She doesn't use many servants, which suits her status.She handed over the house, laundry, pantry and kitchen to Agfia, the housekeeper who used to be her nanny.It was a soft-hearted, crying old woman with all her teeth gone.Two strong girls, with faces as firm and rosy as Antonov apples, also obeyed her.Acting as valet, head boy and steward of the mess was a 70-year-old valet, Pauli Calpo, a curiously eccentric and knowledgeable man, a retired violinist, admirer of Viotti, Napoleon— — or as he put it: Napatishka — a personal enemy, a fan of the nightingale.He often kept five or six nightingales in his room.In early spring, he guarded the birdcage for several days, waiting for the first "cry", and when he finally heard it, he covered his face with his hands and said to himself: "Oh, poor, poor!" Then he burst into tears. .There is a little helper beside Baoli Karbo, which is his grandson, named Huaxia, a 12-year-old boy with curly hair and bright eyes; Baoli Karbo loves him Solo liking, entangled with him all day long.He is in turn responsible for his education.

"Vasia," he said, "tell me: Napatishka is a robber."

"What good is it to say, father-in-law?"

"What good?... Nothing... Where are you from? Aren't you Russian?"

"I am from Amchin, father-in-law, and I was born in Amchinsk."

"Oh, fool! Where is Amchinsk?"

"I do not know."

"Amchins is in Russia, fool."

"What happened in Russia?"

"What's the matter? The dead Prince of Smolensk Mihailo Illarionovich Golenyshev-Kutuzov drove Ponapatishka out of Russia by the help of God. .A ballad was made about it: 'Bonaparte can't dance anymore, he lost his garter...' Do you know? The prince saved your country."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"Hey, you silly boy, you fool! If Prince Mihailo Illarionovich hadn't driven Bonapatishka out of Russia, there'd be a Meschel with a stick to beat you right now. head. He will come up to you and say, 'Komang ph Poll Thuy Fu?' (How are you?) and start beating you."

"But I can punch him in the stomach."

"He'll say to you: 'Pongru, Pengru, Vinay Isi.' (Hello, hello, come here.) And grab your hair, grab your hair."

"I'll spank his legs, spank his legs, spank his pimple-ridden legs."

"It's true that their legs are covered with bumps... So, if he wants to tie your hands, what will you do?"

"I won't let him tie it up. I'll let Mihai, the coachman, help me."

"But Huaxia, you and Mihai can't deal with this Frenchman, what should we do?"

"Why can't you deal with it! Mi Hai has a lot of strength!"

"So, what do you do with him?"

"We hit him on the back, hit him on the back."

"Then he's going to call Baldung (for mercy): 'Baldung, Baldung, Sapphire!' (Please forgive me, forgive me!)"

"We'd say to him: 'No Sephora, you Frenchie!  …'"

"Vasia is fine! . . . Then you shout: 'Bonapatishka is a robber!'"

"But you want to buy me candy!"

"Good guy!..."

Tatiana Borisovna did not have much acquaintance with landowners.They didn't like to come to her, and she didn't like to communicate with them, and when they talked, she dozed off, pulled herself together, tried to open her eyes, and dozed off again.Normally, Tatyana Borisovna did not like to deal with women.Among her friends was a nice young man with an amiable character. He had a sister, a spinster of thirty-eight and a half years old, kind-hearted, but eccentric, hypocritical, and fanatical.Her brother used to tell her about his neighbor Tatiana.One morning, without saying anything, our old maid ordered her horse to be ready and ride to Tatyana Borisovna's.She is wearing a long dress and a hat on her head.With a green veil hanging over her face and her curly hair loose, she ran into the antechamber, past Huasia, who was startled at her for a mermaid, and ran straight into the drawing room.Tatyana Borisovna was frightened and tried to stand up, but her legs were weak. "Tatyan Borisovna," begged the guest, "forgive my insolence. I am the sister of your friend Alexey Nikolaevich K. I have heard a great deal from him. Regarding your situation, I am determined to get to know you."

"I am honored," said the startled hostess ominously.The visitor took off his hat and threw it aside, smoothed his curls, sat down beside Tatiana Borisovna, and took her hand... "That's her," she said in a nervous and expressive voice. The voice continued, "This is the good, bright, noble and holy person! This is her, that simple and meaningful woman! How happy I am! How happy I am! We will respect and love each other! I am finally loose Breathe! . . . She is exactly as I imagined." She fixed her eyes on Tatyana Borisovna's, and added this last sentence in a low voice. "You are not angry with me, my good man, my good man?"

"Of course not, I'm very happy... Would you like some tea?" The guest smiled modestly. "Wie wahr, wie unreflectirt." She whispered, as if talking to herself. "Honey, please let me hug you!"

For three hours the spinster babbled nonstop with Tatyana Borisovna.She tried to explain her own merits to this new acquaintance.As soon as the intruder was gone, the poor mistress went to her bath, drank some linden tea, and lay down in bed.But the next day the spinster came again, and this time she sat for four hours, before leaving, saying that she would come to see Tatyana Borisovna every day in the future.In this sense, she wanted to fully develop and cultivate what she called a great talent.If this continues, Tatyana is bound to be tortured badly by her. Fortunately, the situation has changed.First, after about two weeks, she was "utterly" disappointed in her brother's girlfriend.Next, she fell in love with a young student passing by, with whom she immediately corresponded diligently and enthusiastically.In her letter, she actually wished him a holy and beautiful life, expressed her willingness to dedicate her "whole body and mind", and only hoped that he would call her sister. She also capitalized and featured nature, talked about Goethe, Schiller, Petina and German philosophy— —the result was that the poor young man was completely in love.But the power of youth prevailed.He awoke one morning with such a violent hatred for his "sister and good friend" that he nearly beat his servant in a fit of rage, and for a long time afterwards he heard only the slightest hint of the noble and pure If she was in love with her, she hated it... From then on, Tatyana Borisovna was even more reluctant than before to have anything to do with the women of her neighbourhood.Alas!The world is fickle.What I have told you about the quiet life of my good landlady is a thing of the past.The quiet days of her house were forever ruined.

(End of this chapter)