Читать книгу Shackles - S. Skitalec - Страница 4

To Yafim usvatat the bride on Petty-bourgeois Farms: there the people lived purely, on city manners, and the bride was from a prosperous family; calculation inclined the grandfather to stop on this choice, though he did not love farm for a frantovstvo and city manners.

At first there went the grandfather with the old woman to shows there. Also the bride’s parents visited on a visit at Matvei: the serious business petty bourgeois in a long-skirted frock coat, with curly, in streaks of gray hair, with a comely beard, similar to the dealer or a prasol, and stocky, wrinkled, vostry on language, the fierce old woman.

Right there over a cup of tea and an entertainment there was a handshake. Only after that carried on the Farm of Yafima.

Took out full dresses from the storeroom: blue cloth long-skirted caftans, red belts, merlushkovy caps and leather boots with copper horseshoes. The grandmother put on a new blue sundress from brilliant matter with a braid and the same buttons in two ranks: from a breast to a hem. Took out rasshivny a headdress in the form of a half moon, threw from above with a big Turkish shawl. Ded and Yafim in the cloth caftans girded by red belts in the sheepskin coats covered by cloth wide open, with wide collars on shoulders, in suits of that breed which remained in the peasantry since ancient centuries as if turned into boyars. These expensive suits sewed at grandfathers and great-grandfathers, remaining from generation to generation were put on only in the most solemn occasions, only, maybe, several times in life.

New big sledge of own work with a high carved back, there are a lot of years standing in a barn, brought on the yard; harnessed the three in a new festive harness with copper set, with metal plates, jingles and long brushes, with the abrupt, high arch painted in motley flowers, on the ends fettered by copper. This harness was taken out from the storeroom only for ceremonial cases too.

In a root there was Chalka, a shirokogrudy roan gelding with a white long mane; on a pristyazhka – Karyukh, tonkonogy, with a little head, well going under a saddle, and dark-bay Mishka. Tails at them at all stuck thick, short plaits, and interwove scarlet tapes into manes.

The grandfather released a gray beard over an open sheepskin coat and villages near the grandmother on a back seat. Yafim – in a coach box. The laurels dissolved gate wide open, Yafim pulled reins, and the three ran out on the rural street, abruptly заворотив on the rolled snow road and having left behind a deep sled trace in a snowdrift. In windows of the next log huts curious woman’s persons flashed. Yafim whistled, distorted reins, and the three, rattling jingles, rushed the middle of the wide street.

Horses were torn from a harness, bells choked under frosty wind, frosty dust was kicked up by a column. The grandmother was closed by a high collar, only warmly looking eyes were seen. Yafim, as always, was silent and serious, from time to time stirred up reins, and the grandfather important grinned, rolling in a semi-archin beard.

They were turned back late at night. Chalka was in soap, the grandfather – tipsy. While Yafim unharnessed horses and brought a precious harness in a cold spacious outer entrance hall, the grandfather and the grandmother changed clothes in the usual poor attire. On the grandmother there was an old pestryadinny sundress again, the grandfather put shoes on in onuchas and bast shoes, threw zaplatanny шубняк, put on a ripped shaggy cap and left to the yard with a lamp to give to horses a stern for the night. In a log hut the splinter cracked, Nastya spun, the fair-haired head with curiosity looked at Lavrushin with polaty.

Yafim entered, changed clothes, like the father, old and silently sat down in all to a table.

The grandmother collected to have supper.

– Tea, on a visit treated? – crafty Nastya asked.

– Znamo business! the table in total both a lapshennik, and a moloshn fried eggs, fritters in honey, chicken meat was full… Well live!. and we are not hungry каке́ not painfully not beggars are eager for food… tea! Everything was under the charter! Brought the bride under a veil. We Bai: not the veil was come to be watched, and the bride! Here took off a veil, the bride bowed to all under the charter, the prince-good fellow in an osobitsa.

Yafim grinned.

– Here, as it is necessary, the prince was asked: Whether Liouba princess young? The prince, of course, here bows silently, and matchmakers and matchmakers told: люба́!. And ask the princess: whether люб to it prince young? The bride worshipped here, well, so люб! Well, here all on a ceremony… Prichityvala the bride long, Indus drove in a tear of all, I liked it: люта́ I will be, in mother, and from myself – тве́ rdinka, though nevelichka growth, and postavnenka! From a face it is white and from eyes it is cheerful!

Yafim again silently grinned, and Nastya told:

– Prick люта́ I – not life to me will be with it!

– Well, maiden thoughts are changeable! You, tea, prosvatay on that the meat eater!

– I bothered you, perhaps? – Nastya shot up.

– Did not bother and to what to be, to that not to pass, you we will pardon not all! The maid it is less – the woman more! Women repent, and maids are going to get married!. So – s, happened, people of a bayala are old!

The grandfather entered, cheerfully dumped шубняк, rose to become gray log huts under a matitsa and, притопнув bast shoes, unexpectedly started singing:

You, a hmelyushka, are cheerful the head,

The head, wide beard is cheerful!.

As you are absent, hop, more strong,

As you are absent, hop, becoming bright!.

The grandmother burst out laughing with a do-good, konfuzlivy snicker:

– And that you, the old man, rasplyasatsya! hop rustles, so the head is silent!

– Be silent you, the old woman! what is in the furnace, on a table throw everything! – and, притопнув, continued:

Hmelyushka walks across the field,

Still hop vykhvalyat itself!

– Me the sovereign, hop, knows,

Both princes, and boyars esteem,

And monks bless me!

– See you sorted houses! It is visible, there is no place like home?

…Still weddings without hop do not play,

Also fight and reconciled – all in hop!

Only there is on me a male gardener:

Deeply me, a hmelina, buries,

Drives in a tychinushka into zealously heart!

The grandfather straightened a beard and, sitting down to a table, laughed:

– On guests to walk and to itself not to lock a collar!. Let’s take a walk, it is visible, at a wedding, the old woman!.

– Well, well, all right! cheered up!.

– And, well, to cry about what?. it put, Yafima is married! Yafimka, and?

– And you have supper yes lay down – to, the father! – smiling, the son answered.

– To an expense will be as! You do not stint, the old man!.

Ded Pocriakhtel.

– Fifty will leave!. Well and at the good fellow not without sweetheart! The guy in a caftan, and the maid in a sundress!

Lavrusha looked, having lowered the head with polaty, and giggled joyfully: never before he saw the father such cheerful.

– You that, swindler! you laugh? Get down, sit down to a table! Soon and you we will marry!. Single, perhaps, you still?

– Single! – the Laurels giggled, getting down on a bar.

After a dinner the old man was filled up to sleep on полатях, singing more and more quietly, slowing down words:

That are rich men bought

And in a suslitsa the hmelyushka was heated,

On oak barrels spilled!

As here I, hop, cleared up,

On notches I, hop, dispersed:

To Otsmey I to the gardener a nadsmeshka —

I will hit it in тын with the head,

And in the dirt a beard!

After several “hen nights” in the house of the bride the wedding train took place, at last: the church was on Petty-bourgeois Farms.

To Matvei’s yard the whole train drove it is done a bit of traveling, there arrived the cart with a dowry of the young wife.

Near the athlete Yafim it seemed small. Her face was still covered by a veil. A crowd entered a log hut. There it was already covered long, in all log hut, hundred, made of three tables, with the benches which are moved up to it.

Young people were put in a forward corner, to a bozhnitsa. The others stood, they did not need to sit down yet.

Yafim was in a scarlet worsted shirt and a blue cloth caftan, young – in a white dress of city breed. At solemn silence of the numerous guests who filled a log hut, the grandmother approached the daughter-in-law, quietly took off her veil from the head, and all saw the person young: round, white, with bystry clever eyes, with a dense fair-haired braid. The mother-in-law untwined a braid on two, twirled around the head, and on the plot head silk “volosnik” of pink color. Only after that guests began to take seats at a table.

The wedding, “knyazhetsky” feast began.

The new person – the young bourgeois who was not wearing sundresses similar on city entered the conservative country house of the grandfather Matvei. The laurels in a new shirt grandly sat near the brother.

The log hut rustled from a cheerful dialect.

* * *

The spring sun began to warm the fields which did not dry out from the thawed snow yet, and the rural street turned green from the first gentle muravka.

The grandfather Matvei’s family amicably prepared for an arable land: adjusted an ancient heavy plow, repaired harrows, ordered the lacking or broken parts to the smith Migun.

Migun was the fussy big-nosed man with often blinking eyes and hasty, fluent speech. He not only did soshnik, ploughshares and axes, but was able to exorcise blood, treated and tore teeth, gave to drink to patients with a nagovorny grass and was considered as the sorcerer. Lived independently from the village, and its smithy stood on pasture, behind a village fence.

All spring in it work was humming, the horn breathed, sparks poured.

When agricultural tools were given to serviceability, the grandfather Matvei with sons left on an arable land. Next-to-skin, few earth behind a village fence was, and it was plowed so out that never gave a good harvest: to fertilize it to nobody and came to mind because of annual repartitions. Coped with it quickly, and still there was time for the distant field: it was the enormous site in the steppe, versts for thirty from the village – the state earth.

In the olden days it was removed for forty years by men – three families of Listratov – and grew rich from it. Removed on ruble six hryvnias for tithe, and now handed over to men of the village on thirty rubles, but also it was favorable to men. About Listratov said that for them the site – a gold mine.

Except an arable land, men removed at them in the same place and a mowing. Coped with an arable land, and on cleaning each man employed in the city of reapers and mowers. Worked together with hirelings.

Agriculture across Middle Volga was so conducted once.

Ded Matvei from avarice seldom employed alien workers, worked with a family even at night. With a bast basket through a shoulder, without cap, whispering something, scattered seeds a semicircle. Yafim plowed the plow harnessed by four horses, and little Lavrusha was already able to go behind a harrow. Over an arable land rooks curled, damp rich soil hard stuck to bast shoes – hard, tiresome work: the antediluvian plow should be held on hands and on the run to clean off from ploughshares an iron rake the stuck crude earth, legs podvikhivatsya between layers of the vzryty earth, and the breast and a throat overstrained from incessant shout on horses.

From the near field by the evening came back home, but when went to the distant site, lived in the field, in tents, all week and only on Saturday on Sunday came home – to dirt, in dust, black as Blacks; therefore every Saturday “blackly” the baths standing on backs of the village surely burned. On Sunday all village delightfully and long fell down.

The village was above high break under which, maybe, in old centuries Volga proceeded, but then departed on several versts so under break the lugovina was formed, and behind it in a poluversta the rechonka Postepok, small as a stream, densely grown about coast with a sedge and floating water flowers ran.

Through Postepok moved on small, eternally dirty bridge or the corduroy road arranged from the outlined boughs and manure – and immediately the dense oak wood rustling with the solemn and mysterious noise began.

In the spring Volga flooded all wood, approaching closely the village, and then it was possible to float by the boat in the wood standing half in water.

On holidays the flooded wood was filled with boats with maids and guys in bright red dresses, songs, sounds of an accordion and laughter.

When water marketed, in the wood there were lakes, and one of them – the biggest, oval as the mirror – the surrounded wood which shipped in it the green branches was the favourite place of bathing at children, the whole days vanishing in the wood. The lake it was called Print.

After a high water in the wood and on forest glades violent vegetation quickly appeared: the grass grew on a belt, there were a lot of wild onions, stolbunts, a sorrel and fragrant lilies of the valley. Maids and women crowds went to holidays behind onions, a sorrel and flowers, came back home with songs. In the wood without stopping the cuckoo cuckooed, rooks shouted and chirped in every possible way a various bird’s kingdom.

On the Trinity’s eve all were on the near field. The wife Yafima, Anna Ondrevna, with his sister Masha, Vukol’s mother, since spring staying with the father heated a bath. The log hut was locked on the padlock. From a village fence continually passed coming back from the field, but spring evening, absolutely starless, was so dark dense and damp darkness, the dusty road is so soft and silent that only on an easy pobryakivaniye of a harness it was possible to guess that someone passed from the begun to creak village fence gate, and only slightly the noticeable spot moved on the road.

Here the pobryakivaniye approached a log hut, from darkness the low flat arch and the cart with the horse who was silently afraid on a dense, creeping grass was hardly considerably allocated. Two shadows – women’s and children’s got out of the cart.

– And we здеся! – the children’s voice cried from darkness.

The female shadow approached closer and gasped joyfully: on a zavalinka Elizar sat. Vukol and Lavrusha, giggling, were linked and not danced, not fought in darkness.

– We sit yes we wait! – Elizar told getting up. – Anybody there is no house!

– Eka! – the grandmother sighed – two women of the house! I ban, tea, heat! Children, a poklichta, run behind them! Ah you, darling!

Elizar dissolved creaking gate, entered Chalka into the yard, began to unharness a horse. The grandmother helped.

– Do not work, Elizarushka, men will approach now!.

Masha with a key came, children, behind them Ondrevn’s molodayka came running… Unlocked a log hut, entered. Molodayka lit not a splinter, but a tin seven-linear lamp, previously having cleaned glass the brush.

– The lamp was got! – Elizar was surprised.

– And how? – brisk Ondrevna laughed. – Tea, is better and better than a splinter!

– She at us got any news! – good-natured the grandmother from a closet responded.

On windows there were in pots flowers with short flights of stairs from splinters, blossomed scarlet and lilac hand bells. A floor was washed purely up, scraped out, the log hut as though became cheerful.

– That the young hostess means! – the guest joked.

– God grant! – the grandmother told, spreading a stoleshnik. – And we are also glad! The grandfather to a spervonachal grumbled, and теперя and most ndravitsya! Anything! as they say, the znayka teaches Dunno! The kind wife will preserve the house, and thin a sleeve will shake!

– The husband a cart will not bring in that the wife puts with a pot! – Elizar noticed.

– Whether for a long time to us, Elizar?

– The short-haired maid of a braid will not braid!

– How are you? – quietly Masha asked.

– Affairs – as soot is white! Anything! To our trumps all under color! Later I will tell!

Vukol told about the travel with the father by huge steamship with here such red wheels, to a black pipe from which there is a smoke and there is such whistle that you will become deaf! How they were in the city and what there, high houses: if ten log huts that are not enough to put of one on another – and!

The laurels listened and were surprised. After long separation at them was much what to report each other.

– And our Karyukh the zherebenochka brought! – he interrupted the nephew. – Pretty, all in it and is allowed to stroke!

This native log hut from a polatyama and a familiar bar, with white subfenny and a closet of Vukol behind it loved, he remembered winter evenings when the grandmother told fairy tales, the grandfather spun bast shoes, and they with Laurels traveled, as well as now, on a bar on polat. The familiar picture “As Mice of a Cat Buried” still hung on a wall, but he looked at it critically, with a smile. Too spoke of grandmother’s fairy tales haughtily as read in books, mysterious for Laurels, about the knight Don Quixote and his faithful armourbearer, about underwater travel of the captain Nemo by all seas and oceans.

“Big” sat at a table. There arrived the grandfather and Yafim, the father Vukola told something. Friends did not listen to what was told below: they above, under the ceiling, had talk.

After Yafim’s marriage the wall about polaty was pasted over with paper on which fancy patterns from the proceeding rain were formed. Yellowish spots merged in the opinion of Vukol in the imagined picture: as though astride horses Tatars, in sharp caps, in striped dressing gowns, fly at full speed with curve sabers in hands.

– You see? – he asked Monastery, showing on a wall. – This horses, and on them – Tatars with sabers.

– I see nothing! – the Laurels answered.

– And I see! yes you look longer – and you will see! There are horses, here Tatars, here sabers!

But the Laurels so saw nothing. He only partly trusted the nephew, from his assurances considered a lot of things lies. Their conversation often resembled Don Quixote’s conversation with his armourbearer.

– To lie – not to be tired, would be to listen to whom! – mistrustfully the little peasant laughed.

The voice of Elizar who told at cheerful attention of listeners too did not stop.

– Lomonosov was from simple fishermen, and reached that the tsar accepted it… There was Kulibin, the mechanic self-educated person, and that there was still Englishman Fulton… Was much such people for whom great brains worked, and more and more poverty left them…

– And at us too such is, the miller Chelyak – was heard the grandfather’s voice. – Sly fellow! The fan to build! On a leg to connect you with it!

– I know Chelyak, interpreted with him… both of us lack one: sciences! The bird to feathers, and the person the doctrine is red! But – to study never late. Also I will achieve the!

– And you remember – Vukol said – we have a picture “The Bay of Naples Has a Family of Fishermen”? I look every day – I will not see enough! The sea is drawn there, children bathe, and ashore the fisherman’s daughter is beautiful before, just as in the fairy tale…

– Nourishingly, it is visible, live! by the sea! – efficiently noticed Laurels. – Smooth! And it is good to bathe also at us, on Print! Let’s go morning! children we will collect to play an arable land!

– Better in robbers! – Vukol objected and began to tell about robbers.

They vividly went down on a bar. Ondrevna put them linen and showed the door for a door. On backs the spark shone. The bath was similar to a dugout with a small window. Undressing in a cold waiting room, continued a talk. To drive away fear, laughed. The grandfather with Yafim came to a waiting room soon.

Having returned to a log hut, also did not notice how fell asleep.

* * *

Woke up late in the morning: the sun shone, hens outside cackled. The Russian furnace burned, in a closet of the woman cooked festive foods. From the yard the grandfather entered.

– Children wake – he told – behind a grass in zaymishche I go!

At these words Monasteries jumped and began to shake the nephew for a shoulder:

– Behind a grass! behind a grass!

Wiping eyes, ran out through an outer entrance hall on a porch – to wash: the clay washstand hung there on a string in the summer, the pure towel, but not a dirty rag as was before, to Ondrevniny orders hung in the same place.

Outside there was Chalka harnessed in the cart. In the cart the braid and the axe lay.

– Well, sit down, swindlers! – good-natured the grandfather told, dissolving gate.

It jumped in the cart, and Chalka, winding the head, zatrusit to the alley to descent in a lugovina where shone постепок and the wood moved under wind. It was from a distance heard as in the Rooky Mane rooks shouted, flickered a black grid over nests in branches of sprawling oaks.

The bridge, as always, was in deep dirt. For pedestrians the thick tree was thrown through a stream. Hardly got out to the abrupt coast as immediately came to be under the green arch of the wood stretching the wide branches over their heads. Chalka ran a slow, complacent lynx, footfall of his not grounded hoofs softly was given in the wood.

Through branches silver of the Print lake flashed, boundaries of oaks white cups of lilies of the valley, juicy stolbunets, bushes of a dogrose and unknown bright red berries flashed.

– Their wolves eat – explained Laurels to the nephew – on the Spiked glade strawberry is, and in the fall – торон, blackberry… Water, a grass теперя on Spiked high, dense sold!.

About half an hour went on the soft dampish forest road. Somewhere in the depth of the wood the cuckoo cuckooed. Morning was solar, warm, given to drink by freshness of the juicy, shady thicket rustling with infinite thoughtful and tender noise.

The grandfather was silent, occasionally patting Chalka vozhzhy what Chalka answered with friendly nods.

At last, left the Spiked glade. It was the wide flat valley in the depth of which there were giants the black poplars publishing the equal, dense, triumphing rumble.

– And what behind them? – the nephew asked the uncle.

– For sokoryam – Proran… for Proran – Vzmor! Hvorostnik grows there, high yes long… at-at, Proran – he angry yes bystry, deep – a bottom is not present!.

The grandfather suspended a horse and moved down after the journey in a high juicy grass. Then got down and, having whetted a scythe whetstone, waved it. It as if effortlessly, for fun, slightly moved a braid, slightly наклонясь forward, and the grass and a nikla, and laid down ranks, bared the cut earth.

The grandfather mowed, and children armfuls dragged a grass to the cart. At last, the old man lifted a big bundle and put it in the cart. Chalka tastefully chewed a grass – juicy, damp from morning dew. Having loaded the cart, the grandfather placed children on grass top, told:

– Trample down!

They cheerfully trampled down with pleasure smelling grass and joyfully laughed. Then mudflows. From a bright green mowed grass their uncovered heads – one fair-haired, another blond, and two pairs of laughing eyes were seen. To sit now it was soft. The grandfather jumped on a cart nakleska, pulled reins, and Chalka, winding the head, with a grass bunch in teeth, willingly drove the cart back on the former road. The crude grass lay densely. It was heavy to Chalke to trot, but he, probably, tried.

The zealous country horse was not young any more, but never waited for a whip, carried шагисто, ran a dispute, and in dark nights did not go astray, having remarkable memory on roads. It was the old friend and the grandfather’s companion. Even now, when Chalki’s strengths became any more not those that before, he still in the old manner strove to trot with a heavy cart. But was tired soon and only wound the head as if wanted to tell: “Eh, old age!”

It was pleasant to come back home, lying on a soft, damp, fragrant grass. On an edge the grandfather stopped Chalka, got down, took out the axe and cut down a young curly birch, having thrust its komly under a grass “for a Trinity”.

– It is our, hrestyansky, the wood – explained Laurels to the nephew – there was a wish – cut down, nothing for it will be, and before the wood was lordly… the barin died long ago, the wood to us departed! And behind a village fence the merchant bought Dubrov near the village where the mansion remained, together with the earth…

– Here and there is not enough earth! – the grandfather interfered – swindlers! That there was the barin an earth, and now – a kuptsova!. Than you will live if you will grow up?.

Children could not answer, puzzly looked at each other. The wood rustled, green walls stood on both sides of the road, the green arch met over their heads. Again the Print lake flashed aside.

– Let’s reach to the bridge – we will get down – whispered to the friend of Monasteries – on Print we will run!

When drove on the bridge, there was misfortune: the cart got stuck in dirt; Chalka hardly held on it to the dry coast and suddenly stopped knee-deep in the dense bog. How many the grandfather urged on it, it only wound and shook the head.

– Eh, old age! – with a sigh the grandfather told and on a shaft got out to the coast. – You what you sit, swindlers? Get down!

Children got on a shaft after the grandfather. Sucked in Chalka to the bog more and more deeply.

Then the grandfather выпряг him also looked around: whether looks who? But on a holiday behind the village was nobody.

– Eh, old age! – again the grandfather repeated, took Chalka one hand for a tail, and another for a mane, planted the feet against the coast so that bast shoes it went to the soft earth, terribly began to roar on Chalka and – pulled out it on the dry place. Then looked back on the parties again, became on chalkino place in shafts, all napruzhinitsya, the back stooped, the head left between big shoulders, and the long beard almost touched the earth. Panting, the grandfather rocked here and there and took out a cart then wiped a sleeve a bald head, put Chalka and suddenly, having angrily threatened with a whip handle, severely told children:

– You motrit, swindlers, do not stir! I will bungle!

And though they knew that the grandfather never before flogged anybody but only he swore and in rare instances raised, however involuntarily were afraid: they were frightened by its force; has to be therefore it also never did not beat anybody: was afraid of the force.

– We on Sittsevo will go! – prositelno told Laurels.

The grandfather silently sat down on a cart, pulled reins and, already driving off, waved on them a hand.

Having got over through a stream on the cut-down tree, they ran a forest footpath to the lake. Both were without caps, barefoot and already on the run took off from themselves shirts it is to plunge into the water rather. Print sparkled in the sun between oak trunks. When ran up to the high green coast, on an unruffled surface of the lake, on its middle, floated, being removed, two big proud birds with silver feathers, with long necks and black noses.

– Swans! – whispered Laurels, threw a shirt on a grass and wanted was with running start to plunge into the water, but on the usual place of bathing someone floundered about and swam, lifting legs the whole column of the splashes sparkling in the sun.

– Children! – cheerfully the chest female voice cried – you want, I will get a cockleshell?

– This is Grunka! – said Laurels in low tones.

The girl disappeared under water and long there remained, only circles on water went.

Suddenly she jumped out up to a breast over water and with laughter threw it a big brilliant silvery sink.

The laurels bent to lift a gift, but Vukol as if was dumbfounded, without taking eyes from Gruni. Around the head her snake twisted the black big braid intertwined in white water colors. The dark face with eagle eyes and thin, as if drawn, eyebrows affected it: it seemed to it similar to the person, somewhere seen by it… perhaps, in a dream…

Grunya swam up to the coast where over water, on low to a tree bough, her dress hung, and rose from water already in a shirt: the shirt was in covering on a breast and on hips and only around a slender waist lay freely, Unwound the long thick plait which fell below knees, squeezed out of it water, threw a lilac dress, and the head tied with a red bandage. By sight it was years sixteen.

– Lavrusha! This is the nephew, perhaps, yours? – loudly Grunya asked, and her voice began to sound as a pipe.

– Nephew! – solidly the Laurels answered.

Grunya looked at Vukol with the unusual eyes, and it seemed to him that she watches derisively.

– What is your name?

Vukol stood pale, looking to the earth, and, as captivated, lost gift for speaking, could utter nothing.

– See you, exactly what tsarevitch!

Light step there passed Grunya by it and, passing, again burned it with a quizzical glance. It disappeared in the wood, singing the lingering song.

– Eh, what! – Vukol with surprise told – it is similar to the fisherman’s daughter!

The laurels did not understand it:

– She is not the fisherman’s daughter, it Listratov the daughter, at them rolls in money!

They plunged into the water and floated. Then, having held the breath, fell by a bottom, opened eyes there as before did, and through water as through a chintz, saw each other sitting at a sandy bottom. Therefore the transparent lake – Print was called. Came up upward, splashed and floated as frogs, but Vukol’s memory did not leave an image of the beauty; he wanted to see as soon as possible again it and to look, look endlessly.