A Russian Proprietor

mother came into the hovel. She was a tall woman, fifty years old, very fresh and lively. Her ugly face was covered with pock-marks and w

f her hands, and the solid muscles of her black bare legs, made it evident

shut the door, set down her line

rned her back on him, and began to cross herself before

checkered handkerchief which was tied around he

excellency," she said. "God s

ew confused, bent his back a litt

of. "I have just been talking wit

he supported with the palm of the left, and, without waiting for the prince to speak further, began to talk so sharply and loud that the whole hov

as to a man. Here he stands, the lout," she continued contemptuously,

all his fault. I bore him, fed him, gave him to drink. Didn't expect to have such a lubber. There is but one end to the story. Grain is all gone, and no more work to be go

punish him, for the Lord God's sake! send him off as a soldie

ing your mother to this?" said Nekhliudo

did no

ight have strength enough to work on something, the lubber! But no, not he! He prefers to curl himself up on top of the oven. And even when he undertakes to do any thing, it would make you sick even to look at

forest after wood, and told him to dig a hole;

ed for a

ing with her arms, and advancing toward her son wit

om him, spat, and again addressed the prince with the same a

this fellow hangs around my neck like a stone. If he would only die, then it would be easier; that would be the end of it. H