the witch and other stories(女巫)-第51节
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THE WITCH AND OTHER STORIES
VI
Marya thought herself unhappy； and said that she would be very glad
to die； Fyokla； on the other hand； found all this life to her taste： the
poverty； the uncleanliness； and the incessant quarrelling。 She ate what was
given her without discrimination； slept anywhere； on whatever came to
hand。 She would empty the slops just at the porch； would splash them out
from the doorway； and then walk barefoot through the puddle。 And from
the very first day she took a dislike to Olga and Nikolay just because they
did not like this life。
〃We shall see what you'll find to eat here； you Moscow gentry！〃 she
said malignantly。 〃We shall see！〃
One morning； it was at the beginning of September； Fyokla； vigorous；
good…looking； and rosy from the cold； brought up two pails of water；
Marya and Olga were sitting meanwhile at the table drinking tea。
〃Tea and sugar；〃 said Fyokla sarcastically。 〃The fine ladies！〃 she added；
setting down the pails。 〃You have taken to the fashion of tea every day。
You better look out that you don't burst with your tea…drinking；〃 she went
on； looking with hatred at Olga。 〃That's how you have come by your fat
mug； having a good time in Moscow； you lump of flesh！〃 She swung the
yoke and hit Olga such a blow on the shoulder that the two sisters…in…law
could only clasp their hands and say：
〃Oh； holy Saints！〃
Then Fyokla went down to the river to wash the clothes； swearing all
the time so loudly that she could be heard in the hut。
The day passed and was followed by the long autumn evening。 They
wound silk in the hut； everyone did it except Fyokla； she had gone over
the river。 They got the silk from a factory close by； and the whole family
working together earned next to nothing； twenty kopecks a week。
〃Things were better in the old days under the gentry；〃 said the old
father as he wound silk。 〃You worked and ate and slept； everything in its
turn。 At dinner you had cabbage…soup and boiled grain； and at supper the
same again。 Cucumbers and cabbage in plenty： you could eat to your
heart's content； as much as you wanted。 And there was more strictness。
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Everyone minded what he was about。〃
The hut was lighted by a single little lamp； which burned dimly and
smoked。 When someone screened the lamp and a big shadow fell across
the window； the bright moonlight could be seen。 Old Osip； speaking
slowly； told them how they used to live before the emancipation； how in
those very parts； where life was now so poor and so dreary； they used to
hunt with harriers； greyhounds；。 retrievers； and when they went out as
beaters the peasants were given vodka； how whole waggonloads of game
used to be sent to Moscow for the young masters； how the bad were
beaten with rods or sent away to the Tver estate； while the good were
rewarded。 And Granny told them something； too。 She remembered
everything； positively everything。 She described her mistress； a kind； God…
fearing woman； whose husband was a profligate and a rake； and all of
whose daughters made unlucky marriages： one married a drunkard；
another married a workman； the other eloped secretly （Granny herself； at
that time a young girl； helped in the elopement）； and they had all three as
well as their mother died early from grief。 And remembering all this；
Granny positively began to shed tears。
All at once someone knocked at the door； and they all started。
〃Uncle Osip； give me a night's lodging。〃
The little bald old man； General Zhukov's cook； the one whose cap had
been burnt； walked in。 He sat down and listened； then he； too； began
telling stories of all sorts。 Nikolay； sitting on the stove with his legs
hanging down； listened and asked questions about the dishes that were
prepared in the old days for the gentry。 They talked of rissoles； cutlets；
various soups and sauces； and the cook； who remembered everything very
well； mentioned dishes that are no longer served。 There was one； for
instance a dish made of bulls' eyes； which was called 〃waking up in the
morning。〃
〃And used you to do cutlets a' la marechal？〃 asked Nikolay。
〃No。〃
Nikolay shook his head reproachfully and said：
〃Tut； tut！ You were not much of a cook！〃
The little girls sitting and lying on the stove stared down without
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blinking； it seemed as though there were a great many of them； like
cherubim in the clouds。 They liked the stories： they were brea thless； they
shuddered and turned pale with alternate rapture and terror； and they
listened breathlessly； afraid to stir； to Granny； whose stories were the most
interesting of all。
They lay down to sleep in silence； and the old people； troubled and
excited by their reminiscences； thought how precious was youth； of which；
whatever it might have been like； nothing was left in the memory but what
was living； joyful； touching； and how terribly cold was death； which was
not far off； better not think of it！ The lamp died down。 And the dusk； and
the two little windows sharply defined by the moonlight； and the stillness
and the creak of the cradle； reminded them for some reason that life was
over； that nothing one could do would bring it back。 。 。 。 You doze off； you
forget yourself； and suddenly someone touches your shoulder or breathes
on your cheek and sleep is gone； your body feels cramped； and thoughts
of death keep creeping into your mind。 You turn on the other side： death is
forgotten； but old dreary； sickening thoughts of poverty； of food； of how
dear flour is getting； stray through the mind； and a little later again you
remember that life is over and you cannot bring it back。 。 。 。
〃Oh； Lord！〃 sighed the cook。
Someone gave a soft； soft tap at the window。 It must be Fyokla come
back。 Olga got up； and yawning and whispering a prayer； opened the door；
then drew the bolt in the outer room； but no one came in； only from the
street came a cold draught and a sudden brightness from the moonlight。
The street； still and deserted； and the moon itself floating across the sky；
could be seen at the open door。
〃Who is there？〃 called Olga。
〃I；〃 she heard the answer 〃it is I。〃
Near the door； crouching against the wall； stood Fyokla； absolutely
naked。 She was shivering with cold； her teeth were chattering； and in the
bright moonlight she looked very pale； strange； and beautiful。 The
shadows on her； and the bright moonlight on her skin； stood out vividly；
and her dark eyebrows and firm； youthful bosom were defined with
peculiar distinctness。
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〃The ruffians over there undressed me and turned me out like this；〃
she said。 〃I've come home without my clothes 。 。 。 naked as my mother
bore me。 Bring me something to put on。〃
〃But go inside！〃 Olga said softly； beginning to shiver； too。
〃I don't want the old folks to see。〃 Granny was； in fact； already stirring
and muttering； and the old father asked： 〃Who is there？〃 Olga brought her
own smock and skirt； dressed Fyokla； and then both went softly into the
inner room； trying not to make a noise with the door。
〃Is that you； you sleek one？〃 Granny grumbled angrily； guessing who
it was。 〃Fie upon you； nightwalker！ 。 。 。 Bad luck to you！〃
〃It's all right； it's all right；〃 whispered Olga； wrapping Fyokla up； 〃it's
all right； dearie。〃
All was stillness again。 They always slept badly； everyone was kept
awake by something worrying and persistent： the old man by the pain in
his back； Granny by anxiety and anger； Marya by terror； the children by
itch and hunger。 Now； too； their sleep was troubled； they kept turning over
from one side to the other； talking in their sleep； getting up
