1. I tried to imagine Captain Mironov, my future boss, and imagined him as a strict, angry old man. 2. The commandant stood in front, the old man was cheerful and tall, in a cap and in a Chinese robe. 3. Shvabrin described Masha to me, captain's daughter, a complete fool.4. In a subtle way I became attached to a kind family, even to Ivan Ignatievich, a crooked garrison lieutenant. 5. Yulai, a baptized Kalmyk, made an important report to the commandant. 6. Ivan Ignatich, the executor of the commandant’s order, heard with his own ears how they (the Cossacks) said: “Here you will be, garrison rat!” 7. The commandant of the Lower Lake Fortress, a quiet and modest young man, was familiar to me. 8. I looked sideways at the confidants of the impostor. One of them, a frail and hunched old man with a gray beard, had nothing remarkable in himself, except for a blue ribbon worn over his shoulder over a gray coat.

A. Pushkin.

9. One of these days I will leave for Moscow - the last inhabitant of a large empty house - and all the things: both the bas-relief, and the portrait of Garibaldi, and the old lamp with the drawing of a water mill, and the table, and the bouquet of willow-tea - all this resignedly remained here for the winter . (150 words)

K. Paustovsky.

BOYS

1. There were five boys in all: Fedya, Pavlusha, Ilyusha, Kostya and Vanya. 2. The first one, Fedya, you would give fourteen years. He was a slender boy with beautiful and thin, slightly small features, curly blond hair, bright eyes and a constant, half-joyful, half-scattered smile ... 3. The second boy, Pavlusha, had tousled, black hair, gray eyes, wide cheekbones, a pale face , pockmarked, the mouth is large, but correct, the whole head is huge, as they say, with a beer cauldron, the body is squat, clumsy. 4. The face of the third, Ilyusha, was rather insignificant: hook-nosed, elongated, half-sighted. 5. The fourth, Kostya, a boy of about ten, aroused my curiosity with his thoughtful and sad eyes. His whole face was small, thin, freckled, pointed downwards. 6. The last one, Vanya, I didn’t even notice at first: he was lying on the ground, quietly, crouching under an angular matting, and only occasionally sticking out his fair-haired curly head from under it. This boy was only seven years old. (134 words.)

According to I. Turgenev.

1. A huge man, technician Khlynov, made measurements of the bottom and the thickness of the ice. 2. Serafima, Rodionova's aunt, who lived with Olga, ended up at home. 3. New embroideries have been added - elegant Nanai ornaments. 4. Guys and girls came up - draftsmen, accountants, typists. Among them, Tanya saw Zalkind's secretary, a young girl with a round face. 5. At one of the "snails" of Kovshov and Filimonov, Silin was waiting - a tightly knocked down guy with open face and small sly eyes. 6. He (Kovshov) looked at his watch: the working day - the seventh of November - had begun for him too. "Snail" was one of the many technical improvements that were introduced in the construction. 7. We returned to the club, the gathering place, warmed ourselves, listened to the joyless last news by radio. 8. The first task - winter welding of pipes - was resolved, according to the plan of Georgy Davydovich, safely. 9. Before him (Topolev) was an engineer of a new type - a Bolshevik engineer, an engineer-owner. (107 words)

1. On both sides of the river, as far as the eye could see, stretched the taiga - the greatest conglomeration of vegetation. In its boundless wilds, the harsh northerners - larch and dove - lived in the closest neighborhood with the tender children of the south, velvet trees and grapes, and, the owner of the tropical jungle, the tiger hunted the reindeer. 2. Soon the villages, inhabited and cheerful-looking shelters of people near the river, began to rush under the wing of the aircraft more and more often. 3. And Batmanov leaned on Sidorenko, the former head of construction, forcing him several times a day to go to the pier, where barges and steamers were loaded. 4. Topolev, a tall, bony old man with a gray-greenish mustache, did not utter a word all evening. 5. A simple matter - sending several barges to the sites - turned out to be very difficult. 6. A huge board was placed in the lobby of the administration - a showcase of the competition with the pre-holiday obligations of the departments. (140 words)

1. But our northern summer, a caricature of southern winters, will flicker and disappear. (P.) 2. Winter friend of the nights, a torch cracks in front of her. (P.) 3. A native sailor, Voropaev saw the sea for the first time as an adult. (Paul.) 4. Without her, my older sister, it was boring at the dacha. 5. Sergei Ivanov, a tenth grade student, was the headman of a mathematical circle. (V.) 6. Everything around, even an ashtray from a pink shell, spoke of a peaceful and long life. (Paust.) 7. Depovskys (workers) gathered in the station garden. They were joined by other workers: switchmen and workers in the material warehouse. (NO) 8. Everyone left work, even the station attendant. (NO) 9. Opening the heavy doors of the warehouse, the station commandant, a German lieutenant, his assistant and a group of Germans entered. (N.O.) 10. Eldest daughter Valya, who was cleaning the kitchen, saw her mother leaving and asked: “Are you far away, mother?” (N. O.) 11. Tractors working on the other side of the wide dry lowland resembled troublesome crawling beetles. (Nikul.) 12. Indeed, it was strange to look at these huge wagons, covered with snow from the top of the mat to the wheels. (L.T.) (135 words)

1. To the right of the village, the Volga sparkled in the sun, a peaceful river, nothing like the one that flowed past Stalingrad. (Funnel) 2. The door opened and the guests appeared. One of them, a stocky gray-haired old man with a round head and bright eyes, walked in front; another, tall, thin man, about thirty-five, with a long, swarthy face and messy hair, stepped (...) from behind. (T.) 3. Among them (buildings) occasionally there were brick buildings - rough large boxes, devoid of architectural decoration. (Already.) 4. Apprentice Spirk, a young, lively guy who flaunted in red shirts, liked to provoke grandfather. (M.-S.) 5. Fedya, a thin, long-nosed boy, with a somewhat surprised expression on his face, received his nickname not so long ago when he was accustomed to fishing. (Zab.) 6. Big, strong man, a convinced Bolshevik, weathered by sea squalls, a member of the RSDLP (b) since 1915, the Baltic sailor Fyodor Zhukhrai told cruel truth life to the young stoker who looked at him with enchanted eyes. (N. O.) 7. In the hallway, everything is the same. Here it is, a steep ladder down - to "our catacombs", where it is so good to hide. (Emd.) (142 words.)

1. One of the coachmen, very a tall man, got out of the sleigh, silently untied his troika. (L. T.) 2. The fourth worker, Levka, mute from birth; could not take part in these conversations and only mumbled. (M.-S.) 3. In his students, fitters, the master tried to instill love for his work. 4. Ivan Lukich, chairman of the advanced collective farm, was known to all the collective farmers of the surrounding villages. 5. Mikheev, a friend of Andrey, an old man of eighty, has lived in the forest all his life. (Nikol.) 6. An old legless carrier, an invalid from the First World War, a favorite of the boys, who at one time taught Alexei to catch minnows on a shallow, (...) pushed the heavy boat, shiny from the touch of thousands of hands, and began to row in short jerks. 7. Kuzma Fedorovich Mosolov, the chairman of the fish collective farm, a former sergeant of the tank troops, a stocky forty-year-old man (...), was impatiently waiting for a new inspector. (Close) 8. Tony's mother, a respectable lady, despite her thirty-six years, with the lively movements of a young girl, with intelligent gray eyes, with an ugly, but pleasant, energetic face, smiled. (134 words.)

1. Chinese communists, courageous and heroic people, became, like the communists of Russia, at the head of the revolutionary struggle of their people. (Burk.) 2. Perched on a large box, the Moscow singer - a young woman in a dark gray jacket - sang "Song of the Motherland" in a sonorous contralto. (...) 3. Tanya got up to the control panel (of a dredger) - an oblong iron box with many white, red and green buttons. Following the girl, Stepan Ilyich Losev, the head of the dredger, entered the bager booth, an elderly, lean man in a sailor's cap and a satin kosovorotka (Mus.) 4. Stepan Ilyich was approached by his niece, an electrician Natasha Loseva, a short dark-skinned girl with a straight chiseled nose and thick eyebrows. (Music) 5. It was the end of November - the saddest time in the village. (Paust.) 6. Two young people passed through the bridge near the pumping station - seventh-graders. One is the son of the head of the depot, engineer Sukharko, a fair-haired, freckled seventeen-year-old dunce and a pock-marked rake Shurka, as they called him in the school, with a good fishing rod, with a famously bitten cigarette. Nearby is Viktor Leshchinsky, a slender, pampered young man. (N.O.) (138 words)

1. The guys gathered a lot of mushrooms in the forest, in particular butter and mushrooms. 2. Various wild animals are found in the forests of Siberia, such as bears, lynxes, and martens. 3. Friends hunted in the wilds, or forest slums. 4. Sailors hunted for sperm whales, that is, large-headed toothed whales. 5. Coniferous forest, or forest, begins right behind the sanatorium. 6. Kolya Ivanov, as the best student and social activist, was thanked. 7. Without her, my older sister, it was boring at the dacha. 8. My friend, by the name of Petrov, shows great musical ability. 9. All high school students, especially excellent students, had great help in the equipment of a physical office with home-made devices. 10. They managed to make several complex electrical devices, including a small dynamo. 11. A dynamo lights up several rooms, mostly physical cabinet. 12. The hippopotamus, or hippo, spends most of its time in the water. 13. Borodin, composer, author famous opera"Prince Igor". 14. Mazepa, as a traitor to the people, left a shameful glory about himself. (138 words)

We live in a fort
We eat bread and drink water;
And how fierce enemies
They will come to us for pies,
Let's give the guests a feast:
Let's load the cannon.

Soldier song.

Old people, my father.

Undergrowth.

When I woke up quite late in the morning, I saw that the storm had subsided. The sun was shining. Snow lay in a dazzling shroud on the boundless steppe. The horses were harnessed. I paid the landlord, who took such a moderate payment from us that even Savelich did not argue with him and did not bargain in his usual way, and yesterday's suspicions completely disappeared from his head. I called the counselor, thanked him for the help, and ordered Savelich to give him half a ruble for vodka. Savelich frowned. "Half a vodka!" he said, “what is it for? Because you deigned to give him a ride to the inn? Your will, sir: we don't have extra fifty dollars. Give everyone for vodka, so you yourself will soon have to starve. I couldn't argue with Savelich. The money, according to my promise, was at his full disposal. I was annoyed, however, that I could not thank the person who helped me out, if not out of trouble, then at least out of a very unpleasant situation. Good - I said coolly; - if you do not want to give half a ruble, then take something out of my dress for him. He is dressed too lightly. Give him my bunny coat.
“Have mercy, father Pyotr Andreevich!” Savelich said. - “Why does he need your bunny coat? He will drink it, the dog, in the first tavern.
- This, old lady, is not your sadness, - said my tramp, - whether I drink or not. His nobility favors me with a fur coat from his shoulder: it is his master's will, and your serf's business is not to argue and obey.
“You are not afraid of God, robber!” Savelich answered him in an angry voice. “You see that the child still does not understand, and you are glad to rob him, for the sake of his simplicity. Why do you need a lord's sheepskin coat? You won't put it on your accursed shoulders."
- Please do not be smart, - I said to my uncle; - Now bring the sheepskin coat here.
"Lord Lord!" moaned my Savelich. - “The bunny sheepskin coat is almost brand new! and it would be good for someone, otherwise a bare drunkard!
However, the rabbit coat appeared. The man immediately began to try it on. In fact, the sheepskin coat, from which I also managed to grow, was a little narrow for him. However, he somehow managed to put it on, ripping at the seams. Savelich almost howled when he heard the threads crackle. The tramp was extremely pleased with my gift. He escorted me to the wagon and said with a low bow: “Thank you, your honor! God bless you for your virtue. I will never forget your favors." - He went in his direction, and I went further, not paying attention to Savelich's annoyance, and soon forgot about yesterday's blizzard, about my leader and about the rabbit coat.
Arriving in Orenburg, I went straight to the general. I saw a tall man, but already hunched over by old age. Long hair his were completely white. The old, faded uniform resembled a warrior from the time of Anna Ioannovna, and his speech had a strong German accent. I gave him a letter from my father. At his name, he glanced at me quickly: "Pozhe my!" - he said. - “Is it true, it seems Andrei Petrovich was even your age, and now what a hammer he has! Ah, fremya, fremya! He opened the letter and began to read it in an undertone, making his remarks. “Dear Sir Andrei Karlovich, I hope that Your Excellency”… What kind of ceremony is this? Phew, how embarrassing for him! Of course: discipline is the first thing, but is this how they write to an old comrade? .. “Your Excellency has not forgotten” ... hm ... and ... when ... the late Field Marshal Ming ... campaign ... also ... Caroline ... Ehe, brooder! so he still remembers our old pranks? “Now about the case ... To you my rake” ... um ... “keep it in a tight rein” ... What are Yesheva mittens? It must be a Russian proverb… he repeated, turning to me.
“That means,” I answered him with an air as innocent as possible, “to be kind, not too strict, to give more freedom, to keep in black gloves.
“Hm, I understand… ‘and don’t let him go’… no, it’s obvious that Yesheva’s mittens don’t mean that… ‘At the same time… his passport’… Where is he? And, here ... “to unsubscribe to Semenovsky” ... Well, well: everything will be done ... “Let me hug myself without ranks and ... an old comrade and friend” - ah! finally guessed ... and so on and so forth ... Well, father, - he said, after reading the letter and putting aside my passport - everything will be done: you will be an officer transferred to the *** regiment, and so as not to waste your time, then go tomorrow to the Belogorsk fortress, where you will be in the team of Captain Mironov, kind and an honest man. There you will be in the service of the present, you will learn discipline. There is nothing for you to do in Orenburg; scattering is harmful young man. And today you are welcome: dine with me.
Time after time it doesn't get any easier! I thought to myself; what did it serve me that even in the womb I was already a sergeant of the guard! Where did it take me? To a regiment and to a remote fortress on the border of the Kirghiz-Kaisak steppes! .. I dined with Andrei Karlovich, the three of us with his old adjutant. Strict German economy reigned at his table, and I think that the fear of sometimes seeing an extra guest at my idle meal was partly the reason for my hasty removal to the garrison. The next day I said goodbye to the general and went to my destination.

CHAPTER III. FORTRESS.

We live in a fort

We eat bread and drink water;

And how fierce enemies

They will come to us for pies,

Let's give the guests a feast:

Let's load the cannon.

Soldier song.

Old people, my father.

Undergrowth.

Belogorsk fortress was located forty miles from Orenburg. The road went along the steep bank of the Yaik. The river had not yet frozen over, and its leaden waves gleamed mournfully in the monotonous banks covered with white snow. Behind them stretched the Kirghiz steppes. I plunged into reflections, mostly sad. Garrison life had little attraction for me. I tried to imagine Captain Mironov, my future chief, and imagined him as a strict, angry old man who knew nothing but his service and was ready to put me under arrest on bread and water for every trifle. Meanwhile, it began to get dark. We drove pretty fast. - Is it far from the fortress? I asked my driver. "Not far," he replied. - "It's already visible." - I looked in all directions, expecting to see formidable bastions, towers and ramparts; but he saw nothing but a village surrounded by a log fence. On one side were three or four stacks of hay, half covered with snow; on the other, a crooked windmill, with popular print wings lazily lowered. - Where is the fortress? I asked in surprise. - “Yes, here it is,” the driver answered, pointing to the village, and with this word we drove into it. At the gate I saw an old cast-iron cannon; the streets were cramped and crooked; the huts are low and mostly covered with straw. I ordered to go to the commandant and a minute later the wagon stopped in front of a wooden house built on a high place, near the wooden church.
Nobody met me. I went into the hallway and opened the front door. An old invalid, sitting on a table, was sewing a blue patch on the elbow of his green uniform. I told him to report me. “Come in, father,” answered the invalid: “our houses.” I entered a clean room, decorated in the old fashioned way. In the corner stood a cupboard with dishes; on the wall hung an officer's diploma behind glass and in a frame; next to him were popular prints representing the capture of Kistrin and Ochakov, as well as the choice of a bride and the burial of a cat. At the window sat an old woman in a padded jacket and with a scarf on her head. She was unwinding the threads, which she held, uncrossed on her hands, a crooked old man in an officer's uniform. "What do you want, father?" she asked, continuing her work. I answered that I had come to the service and appeared on my duty to the captain, and with this word I turned to the crooked old man, mistaking him for the commandant; but the hostess interrupted my hardened speech. “Ivan Kuzmich is not at home,” she said; - “he went to visit Father Gerasim; it doesn't matter, father, I'm his mistress. Please love and respect. Sit down, father." She called the girl and told her to call the constable. The old man looked at me with his lonely eye with curiosity. "I dare to ask," he said; - "In which regiment did you deign to serve?" I satisfied his curiosity. “But I dare to ask,” he continued, “why did you deign to move from the guard to the garrison?” - I answered that such was the will of the authorities. “Certainly, for indecent actions of an officer of the guard,” continued the indefatigable questioner. - “It’s full of lies to trifles,” the captain told him: “you see, the young man is tired from the road; he is not up to you ... (keep your arms straighter ...) And you, my father, ”she continued, turning to me,“ do not be sad that you have been taken to our outback. You are not the first, you are not the last. Endure, fall in love. Shvabrin Alexei Ivanovich has been transferred to us for the fifth year for murder. God knows what sin beguiled him; he, if you please, went out of town with one lieutenant, and they took swords with them, and, well, they stab each other; and Alexey Ivanovich stabbed the lieutenant to death, and even with two witnesses! What are you supposed to do? There is no master for sin."
At that moment the sergeant entered, a young and stately Cossack. "Maximych!" the captain told him. - "Take Mr. Officer an apartment, but cleaner." - "I'm listening, Vasilisa Yegorovna," answered the constable. - “Should not place his nobility with Ivan Polezhaev?” - “You're lying, Maksimych,” said the captain: “Polezhaev is already so crowded; he is my godfather and remembers that we are his bosses. Take Mr. Officer ... what is your name and patronymic, my father? Pyotr Andreevich? Take Pyotr Andreevich to Semyon Kuzov. He, a swindler, let his horse into my garden. Well, Maksimych, is everything all right?
- everything, thank God, is quiet, - answered the Cossack; - only corporal Prokhorov had a fight in the bath with Ustinya Negulina for a gang of hot water.
"Ivan Ignatich! - said the captain to the crooked old man. - “Disassemble Prokhorov with Ustinya, who is right, who is wrong. Yes, punish them both. Well, Maksimych, go with God. Pyotr Andreevich, Maksimych will take you to your apartment.
I bowed out. The constable led me to a hut that stood on the high bank of the river, on the very edge of the fortress. Half of the hut was occupied by the family of Semyon Kuzov, the other was taken to me. It consisted of one room, a fairly neat room, divided in two by a partition. Savelich began to dispose of it; I began to look out the narrow window. Before me stretched the sad steppe. Several huts stood obliquely; several hens wandered along the street, the old woman, standing on the porch with a trough, called the pigs, who answered her with friendly grunts. And this is the direction in which I was condemned to spend my youth! Longing took me; I moved away from the window and went to bed without supper, despite the exhortations of Savelich, who repeated with contrition: “Lord, Vladyka! nothing to eat! What will the lady say if the child becomes ill?
The next day, in the morning, I had just begun to dress, when the door opened and a young officer of short stature entered me, with a swarthy face and remarkably ugly, but extremely lively. “Excuse me,” he said to me in French, “that I come to meet you without ceremony. Yesterday I learned of your arrival; the desire to finally see a human face took possession of me so much that I could not stand it. You will understand this when you live here a little more time. - I guessed that it was an officer discharged from the guard for a duel. We got to know each other right away. Shvabrin was not very stupid. His conversation was sharp and entertaining. With great cheerfulness he described to me the commandant's family, its society, and the region where fate had taken me. I laughed from the bottom of my heart when the same invalid who was repairing the uniform in the commandant's anteroom entered me, and on behalf of Vasilisa Yegorovna invited me to dine with them. Shvabrin volunteered to go with me.
Approaching the commandant's house, we saw about twenty old invalids with long braids and three-cornered hats on the platform. They were lined up in front. In front stood the commandant, a vigorous and tall old man, in a cap and in a Chinese dressing gown. Seeing us, he approached us, said a few kind words to me, and again began to command. We stopped to look at the doctrine; but he asked us to go to Vasilisa Yegorovna, promising to follow us. “And here,” he added, “there is nothing for you to see.”
Vasilisa Egorovna received us easily and cordially, and treated me as if she had known me for a century. The invalid and Palashka laid the table. “What is it that my Ivan Kuzmich learned so much today!” - said the commandant. - “Palashka, call the master for dinner. But where is Masha? - Here came a girl of about eighteen, round-faced, ruddy, with light-brown hair, combed smoothly behind her ears, which were on fire in her. At first glance, I didn't like her very much. I looked at her with prejudice: Shvabrin described Masha, the captain's daughter, to me as a complete fool. Marya Ivanovna sat down in a corner and began to sew. Meanwhile, cabbage soup was served. Vasilisa Yegorovna, not seeing her husband, sent Palashka for him a second time. “Tell the master: the guests are waiting, cabbage soup will get cold; thank God, learning will not go away; will be able to scream." - The captain soon appeared, accompanied by a crooked old man. "What is it, my father?" his wife told him. - "The food has been served a long time ago, but you will not be called." - And you hear, Vasilisa Yegorovna, - answered Ivan Kuzmich, - I was busy with the service: I taught soldiers.
"And, complete!" the captain retorted. - “Only glory that you teach soldiers: neither service is given to them, nor you know the sense in it. I would sit at home and pray to God; that would be better. Dear guests, welcome to the table.
We sat down to have lunch. Vasilisa Yegorovna did not stop for a minute and showered me with questions: who are my parents, are they alive, where do they live and what is their condition? Hearing that the priest has three hundred souls of peasants, “Is it easy!” - she said; “After all, there are rich people in the world! And with us, my father, there is only one shower girl Palashka; thank God, we live little by little. One trouble: Masha; a marriageable girl, and what dowry does she have? a frequent comb, and a broom, and an altyn of money (God forgive me!), with which to go to the bathhouse. Well, if there is a kind person; otherwise sit yourself in the girls as an eternal bride. - I looked at Marya Ivanovna; she blushed all over, and even tears dripped onto her plate. I felt sorry for her; and I hastened to change the conversation. “I heard,” I said rather inappropriately, “that the Bashkirs are going to attack your fortress. - “From whom, father, did you deign to hear this?” asked Ivan Kuzmich. - I was told so in Orenburg, - I answered. "Nonsense!" - said the commandant. “We haven’t heard anything in a long time. The Bashkirs are a frightened people, and the Kyrgyz are taught a lesson. Probably, they won’t turn on us; but if they poke their noses in, I’ll set such a wit that I’ll calm down for ten years. ” “And you are not afraid,” I continued, turning to the captain, “to remain in a fortress exposed to such dangers?” “A habit, my father,” she answered. - “It’s been twenty years since we were transferred here from the regiment, and God forbid, how I was afraid of these damned infidels! As I envy, it used to be, lynx hats, but as soon as I hear their squeal, do you believe it, my father, my heart will stop! And now I’m so used to it that I won’t even move when they come to tell us that the villains are prowling near the fortress. ”
“Vasilisa Egorovna is a very brave lady,” Shvabrin remarked importantly. - Ivan Kuzmich can testify to this.
“Yes, you hear,” said Ivan Kuzmich: “a woman is not a timid ten.”
- And Marya Ivanovna? - I asked: - is it as brave as you?
"Did Masha dare?" her mother replied. - “No, Masha is a coward. Until now, he cannot hear a shot from a gun: he will tremble. And just as two years ago Ivan Kuzmich came up with the idea of ​​shooting from our cannon on my name day, so she, my dear, almost went to the next world out of fear. Since then, we haven’t fired from the damned cannon.”
We got up from the table. The captain and the captain's wife went to bed; and I went to Shvabrin, with whom I spent the whole evening.

CHAPTER IV. DUEL.

- Ying if you please, and become the same in positura.

Look, I'll pierce your figure!

Several weeks have passed, and my life in Belogorsk fortress became for me not only tolerable, but even pleasant. In the commandant's house I was accepted as a native. Husband and wife were the most respectable people. Ivan Kuzmich, who came out of the soldiers' children as an officer, was an uneducated and simple man, but the most honest and kind. His wife managed him, which was consistent with his carelessness. Vasilisa Yegorovna looked at the affairs of the service as if they were her own, and managed the fortress as precisely as she did her house. Marya Ivanovna soon stopped being shy with me. We met. I found in her a prudent and sensitive girl. In an imperceptible way, I became attached to a kind family, even to Ivan Ignatich, a crooked garrison lieutenant, about whom Shvabrin invented that he was in an inadmissible connection with Vasilisa Yegorovna, which had not even a shadow of plausibility: but Shvabrin did not worry about that.
I was promoted to officer. The service didn't bother me. In the God-saved fortress there were no reviews, no teachings, no guards. The commandant, out of his own free will, sometimes taught his soldiers; but he still could not get them all to know which side is right and which is left, although many of them, in order not to be mistaken in this, put the sign of the cross on themselves before each turn. Shvabrin had several French books. I began to read, and a desire for literature awakened in me. In the mornings I read, practiced translations, and sometimes composing poetry. I almost always dined at the commandant's, where I usually spent the rest of the day, and where Father Gerasim sometimes appeared in the evening with his wife Akulina Pamfilovna, the first gossip in the whole neighborhood. Of course, I saw AI Shvabrin every day; but hour by hour his conversation became less agreeable to me. I didn't like his constant jokes about the commandant's family, especially his caustic remarks about Marya Ivanovna. There was no other society in the fortress, but I did not want another.
Despite the predictions, the Bashkirs were not indignant. Tranquility reigned around our fortress. But the peace was interrupted by a sudden internecine strife.
I have already said that I was engaged in literature. My experiments, for those times, were fair, and Alexander Petrovich Sumarokov, a few years later, praised them very much. Once I managed to write a song, which I was pleased with. It is known that writers sometimes, under the guise of demanding advice, look for a benevolent listener. So, having rewritten my song, I took it to Shvabrin, who alone in the whole fortress could appreciate the works of the poet. After a short preface, I took my notebook out of my pocket and read to him the following verses:
Destroying the thought of love,
I try to forget the beautiful
And ah, avoiding Masha,
I think the liberty to get!
But the eyes that captivated me
All the time before me;
They disturbed my spirit
They destroyed my peace.
You, having recognized my misfortunes,
Have pity, Masha, over me;
In vain me in this fierce part,
And that I am captivated by you.
- How do you find it? I asked Shvabrin, expecting praise, like a tribute, which I would certainly follow. But to my great annoyance, Shvabrin, usually condescending, decisively announced that my song was not good.
- Why is that? I asked him, hiding my annoyance.
“Because,” he answered, “such poems are worthy of my teacher, Vasily Kirilych Tredyakovsky, and very much remind me of his love couplets”
Then he took the notebook from me and began mercilessly to analyze every verse and every word, mocking me in the most caustic way. I could not stand it, tore my notebook out of his hands and said that I would not show him my compositions in my life. Shvabrin laughed at this threat too. “Let's see,” he said, “whether you keep your word: poets need a listener, like Ivan Kuzmich needs a decanter of vodka before dinner. And who is this Masha, before whom you express yourself in tender passion and in love adversity? Isn't it Marya Ivanovna?
- It's none of your business, - I answered with a frown, - whoever this Masha is. I don't want your opinion or your guesses.
"Wow! Proud poet and humble lover!” continued Shvabrin, irritating me more from hour to hour; - "but listen to friendly advice: if you want to be in time, then I advise you to act not with songs."
- What does that mean, sir? Feel free to explain.
“With pleasure. This means that if you want Masha Mironova to come to you at dusk, then instead of gentle rhymes, give her a pair of earrings.
My blood boiled. - And why do you think so about her? I asked, holding back my indignation with difficulty.
“Because,” he answered with a hellish smile, “I know from experience her temper and custom.”
- You're lying, you bastard! I cried furiously, “you lie in the most shameless way.
Shvabrin's face changed. "It won't work for you," he said, squeezing my hand. - "You will give me satisfaction."
- Please; when you want to! I answered, delighted. At that moment I was ready to tear him to pieces.
I immediately went to Ivan Ignatich, and found him with a needle in his hands: on the instructions of the commandant, he was stringing mushrooms for drying for the winter. "Ah, Pyotr Andreevich!" - he said when he saw me; - "Welcome! How did God bring you? on what matter, dare I ask?" I'm in short words I explained to him that I had quarreled with Aleksey Ivanovich, and I asked him, Ivan Ignatich, to be my second. Ivan Ignatich listened to me with attention, staring at me with his only eye. “You are kind enough to say,” he said to me, “what do you want to stab Alexei Ivanych and want me to be a witness to? Is not it? dare to ask."
- Exactly.
“Have mercy, Pyotr Andreevich! What are you up to! Did you quarrel with Alexei Ivanovich? Great trouble! Hard words break no bones. He scolded you, and you scold him; he is in your snout, and you are in his ear, in the other, in the third - and disperse; and we will reconcile you. And then: is it a good deed to stab your neighbor, I dare to ask? And it would be good if you stabbed him: God be with him, with Alexei Ivanovich; I am not a hunter myself. Well, what if he drills you? What will it look like? Who will be the fool, dare I ask?”
The reasoning of the prudent lieutenant did not shake me. I stayed with my intention. “As you wish,” said Ivan Ignatich, “do as you please. Why am I here to be a witness? Why? People are fighting, what kind of unseen, dare I ask? Thank God, I went under the Swede and under the Turk: I had seen enough of everything.
I somehow began to explain to him the position of a second, but Ivan Ignatich could not understand me. "Your will," he said. - “If I have to intervene in this matter, is it really possible to go to Ivan Kuzmich and inform him on duty that villainy is intended in the fort that is contrary to state interest: wouldn’t it be pleasing to the commandant to take appropriate measures ...”
I was frightened and began to ask Ivan Ignatich not to say anything to the commandant; persuaded him by force; he gave me his word, and I decided to back down from him.
I spent the evening, as usual, at the commandant's. I tried to appear cheerful and indifferent, so as not to arouse any suspicion and avoid annoying questions; but I confess that I did not have that composure, which is almost always boasted by those who were in my position. That evening I was disposed towards tenderness and tenderness. I liked Marya Ivanovna more than usual. Thought that maybe see her in last time gave her something touching in my eyes. Shvabrin appeared immediately. I took him aside and informed him of my conversation with Ivan Ignatich. “Why do we need seconds,” he said to me dryly: “we can do without them.” We agreed to fight for stacks that were near the fortress, and to appear there the next day at seven o'clock in the morning. We talked, apparently, so friendly that Ivan Ignatich blabbed for joy. “It would have been like that for a long time,” he said to me with a pleased look; - "a bad world is better than a good quarrel, but also dishonest, so healthy."
"What, what, Ivan Ignatich?" - said the commandant, who was reading cards in the corner: - "I did not listen carefully."
Ivan Ignatich, noticing signs of displeasure in me and remembering his promise, became embarrassed and did not know what to answer. Shvabrin arrived in time to help him.
"Ivan Ignatich" - he said - "approves of our world peace."
- And with whom, my father, did you quarrel? "
"We had a rather big argument with Pyotr Andreevich."
- Why so?
"For a mere trifle: for a song, Vasilisa Yegorovna."
- Found something to quarrel about! for the song! ... but how did it happen?
“Yes, here's how: Pyotr Andreevich recently composed a song and today sang it in front of me, and I dragged on mine, my favorite:
captain's daughter
Don't go for a walk at midnight.
Disorder came out. Pyotr Andreevich was also angry; but then he reasoned that everyone is free to sing whatever they want. That's how it ended."
Shvabrin's shamelessness nearly made me mad; but no one, except me, understood his rude blunt words; at least no one paid any attention to them. From songs, the conversation turned to poets, and the commandant noticed that they were all dissolute people and bitter drunkards, and friendly advised me to leave poetry, as it was contrary to the service and leading to nothing good.
Shvabrin's presence was intolerable to me. I soon took leave of the commandant and his family; having come home, examined his sword, tried its end, and went to bed, ordering Savelich to wake me up at the seventh hour.
The next day, at the appointed time, I was already behind the stacks, waiting for my opponent. Soon he also appeared. “We might be caught,” he told me; - "We must hurry." We took off our uniforms, remained in the same camisoles and drew our swords. At that moment, Ivan Ignatitch suddenly appeared from behind a stack and about five invalids. He demanded us to the commandant. We obeyed with vexation; the soldiers surrounded us, and we went to the fortress after Ivan Ignatich, who led us in triumph, striding with surprising importance.

Lesson #76

Lesson #76 HOW

Goals: give an idea of ​​the conditions for separating definitions and applications with the union How; improve punctuation skills.

I. Verification work on the material studied.

Test

Students are offered several conditions for separating certain niya and applications, marked with letters (A, B, C, D, E, E), and several sentences with separate definitions and applications.

Exercise:find matches of the number denoting the sentence nie, and a letter indicating the condition of separation:

A - the definition is isolated, as it stands after the noun being defined;

B - the application is isolated, as it stands after the proper name;

B - the application is isolated, as it refers to a personal pronoun niyu;,

G - the definition is isolated, as it has an additional adverbial value;

D - the definition is isolated, as it is separated from the noun being defined by other members of the sentence;

E- application is isolated, as it means given name And explains the common noun.

1. I tried to imagine Captain Mironov, my future boss, and represented him as strict, angry(A. S. Pushkin).

2. Poplars covered with dew filled the air with a delicate aroma(A. Chekhov).

3. The second boy, Pavlusha, had tousled hair, black eyes, gray cheekbones, a broad face...(I. Turgenev).

4. Stunned by the blow of the Gruzovsky fist, Bulanin at first staggered in place, not understanding anything.(A. Kuprin).

5. In the wrath of thunder, a sensitive demon, he has long heard fatigue(A. M. Gorky).

6. Sun-drenched, buckwheat and wheat fields spread beyond the river.(M. Sholokhov).

As a result of the work, students should have the following entry: 1B; 2A; WE; 4G; 5V; 6D.

The work can be complicated by inviting students to punctuate these sentences themselves and graphically substantiate this statement.

I. New material.

The teacher informs the students that in the isolation of applications there are some features, and invites you to familiarize yourself with the conditions for separating single applications related to the noun noun natural.

Students self-acquaint themselves with the rule (no comment) § 31 s. 143. Didactic material is used to reinforce the rule.

1. How would I, rowan, get over to the oak(Folk song).

2. He, a naturalist, had a kind of reverent attitude towards nature.

3. Her father, a geologist, was rarely at home during the summer. 4. I looked out the round window - porthole. 5. Lies under a mound overgrown with weeds, sailor Zheleznyak partisan(I. Utkin). 6. Sergeev, a miner, knew this adit well.

When studying the note to the rule § 31, p. 143-144 can be used call reference record:

as - does not separate
application with union How ; ,_* -

G reason (because) separates

Analyzing proposals:

/. Leontiev was carried away by this idea, but, as a cautious person, so far he has not told anyone about it.(K. Paustovsky). Ilyusha sometimes, like a frisky boy, just wants to rush and redo everything himself(N. Goncharov).

2. Reinforced concrete as construction material began to apply
a long time ago. We took these words as praise. His path to science
started as a member of the expedition.

We draw students' attention to the following nuance, which helps to distinguish a separate application with a union How(a comma is placed) from turnover with a union How(no comma is included). Need to pay attention word order. Most often, the application How stands after subject go or complement expressed by nouns or pronouns: Ivanov, as the best surgeon, is known to everyone(a comma is placed). If the turnover obeys the predicate and most often stands after it, then the comma is not put: Ivanov is known to everyone as the best surgeon.

We should also dwell on those cases where an object (person) is characterized with different parties. Here How also close in meaning to words in quality, in role. In these cases, the comma is not put: I am talking about this not only as a viewer, but also as a participant in the program.

III.Consolidation of what has been learned. Exercises.

1. Exercise 304.

2. Put punctuation marks, explain them.

/. As a writer, I met Gorky a long time ago. 2. This herb is used as a medicinal plant. 3. Widely known and loved by visitors Tretyakov Gallery the works of Theophan the Greek, a foreigner who found a second home in the Muscovite state at the end of the fourteenth century, and Andrei Rublev, his student, who eclipsed the glory of his teacher. 4. The best locksmith at the factory and the first strong man in the suburbs, he behaved rudely with his superiors and therefore earned little(A.M. Gorky). 5. And he, as a smart man, immediately took advantage of the exclusivity of his position(I. Turgenev).

IV. Task for house:

repeat § 31, ex. 307.

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- To the inn. The Lord helped, stumbled right on the fence. Come out, sir, and get warm.
I got out of the kibitka. The storm still continued, although with less force. It was so dark that you could poke out your eyes. The owner met us at the gate, holding a lantern under the skirt, and led me into the chamber, which was cramped, but rather clean; the beam illuminated her. A rifle and a tall Cossack hat hung on the wall.
The owner, a Yaik Cossack by birth, seemed to be a peasant of about sixty, still fresh and vigorous. Savelich brought in a cellar after me, demanded a fire to prepare tea, which I never seemed to need so much. The owner went to work.
- Where is the counselor? I asked Savelich.
“Here, your honor,” a voice answered me from above. I looked at the bed and saw a black beard and two sparkling eyes. "What, brother, vegetate?" - “How not to vegetate in one thin Armenian! There was a sheepskin coat, but what's the sin to hide? laid the evening at the kisser: the frost did not seem great. At that moment the owner entered with a boiling samovar; I offered our counselor a cup of tea; the man got down from the floor. His appearance seemed remarkable to me: he was about forty, medium height, thin and broad-shouldered. There was gray in his black beard; alive big eyes so they ran. His face had an expression rather pleasant, but roguish. Her hair was cut in a circle; he was wearing a tattered coat and Tatar trousers. I brought him a cup of tea; he took it and winced. “Your honor, do me such a favor, order me to bring a glass of wine; tea is not our Cossack drink. I gladly granted his wish. The owner took out a damask and a glass from the stall, went up to him and, looking into his face: “Ehe,” he said, “again you are in our land! Where did God bring it from? My guide blinked significantly and answered with a saying: “I flew into the garden, pecked hemp; grandmother threw a pebble - yes past. Well, what about yours?
- Yes, ours! - answered the owner, continuing the allegorical conversation. - They began to call for evening, but the priest does not order: the priest is visiting, the devil is in the churchyard. - “Be quiet, uncle,” my tramp objected, “it will rain, there will be fungi; and there will be fungi, there will be a body. And now (here he blinked again) plug the ax behind your back: the forester walks. Your honor! For your health!" - At these words, he took a glass, crossed himself and drank in one breath. Then he bowed to me and returned to the bed.
I could then understand nothing from this thieves' conversation; but afterwards I guessed that it was about the affairs of the Yaitsky army, at that time just pacified after the 1772 rebellion. Savelich listened with an air of great displeasure. He glanced suspiciously first at the owner, then at the counselor. The inn, or, in the local way, umet, was on the sidelines, in the steppe, far from any village, and looked very much like a robber's wharf. But there was nothing to be done. It was impossible to think about continuing the path. Savelich's uneasiness amused me greatly. In the meantime, I settled down for the night and lay down on a bench. Savelich made up his mind to get out on the stove; the owner lay down on the floor. Soon the whole hut was snoring, and I fell asleep like a log.
When I woke up quite late in the morning, I saw that the storm had subsided. The sun was shining. Snow lay in a dazzling shroud on the boundless steppe. The horses were harnessed. I paid the landlord, who took such a moderate payment from us that even Savelich did not argue with him and did not bargain in his usual way, and yesterday's suspicions completely disappeared from his head. I called the counselor, thanked him for the help, and ordered Savelich to give him half a ruble for vodka. Savelich frowned. “Half a vodka! he said, what is it for? Because you deigned to give him a ride to the inn? Your will, sir: we don't have extra fifty dollars. Give everyone for vodka, so you yourself will soon have to starve. I couldn't argue with Savelich. The money, according to my promise, was at his full disposal. I was annoyed, however, that I could not thank the person who helped me out, if not out of trouble, then at least out of a very unpleasant situation. “All right,” I said coolly, “if you don’t want to give half a ruble, then take something out of my dress for him. He is dressed too lightly. Give him my bunny coat."
- Have mercy, father Pyotr Andreevich! Savelich said. “Why does he need your bunny sheepskin coat?” He will drink it, dog, in the first tavern.
“This, old lady, is not your sadness,” said my tramp, “whether I drink or not. His nobility favors me with a fur coat from his shoulder: it is his master's will, and your serf's business is not to argue and obey.
“You are not afraid of God, robber! Savelich answered him in an angry voice. - You see that the child still does not understand, and you are glad to rob him, for the sake of his simplicity. Why do you need a lord's sheepskin coat? You won't put it on your cursed shoulders.
“Please don’t be smart,” I said to my uncle; “now bring a sheepskin coat here.”
- Lord, lord! moaned my Savelich. - The hare sheepskin coat is almost brand new! and it would be good for someone, otherwise a bare drunkard!
However, the hare sheepskin coat appeared. The man immediately began to try it on. In fact, the sheepskin coat, from which I also managed to grow, was a little narrow for him. However, he somehow managed to put it on, tearing at the seams. Savelich almost howled when he heard the threads crackle. The tramp was extremely pleased with my gift. He escorted me to the wagon and said with a low bow: “Thank you, your honor! God bless you for your virtue. I will never forget your favors." - He went in his direction, and I went on, not paying attention to Savelich's annoyance, and soon forgot about yesterday's blizzard, about my leader and about the hare's sheepskin coat.
Arriving in Orenburg, I went straight to the general. I saw a tall man, but already hunched over by old age. His long hair was completely white. The old, faded uniform resembled a warrior from the time of Anna Ioannovna, and his speech had a strong German accent. I gave him a letter from my father. At his name, he glanced at me quickly: “Oh my! - he said. “Is it true, it seems Andrei Petrovich was even your age, and now what a hammer he has! Ah, fremya, fremya! He opened the letter and began to read it in an undertone, making his remarks. ““ Gracious Sovereign Andrei Karlovich *, I hope that Your Excellency ... What kind of ceremony is this? Phew, how embarrassing for him! Of course: discipline is the first thing, but is this how they write to an old comrade? .. “Your Excellency has not forgotten” ... hm ... “and ... when ... the late Field Marshal Ming ... campaign ... also ... Caroline" ... Ehe, brooder! so he still remembers our old pranks? “Now about the case ... To you my rake” ... um ... “keep in tight reins” ... What are Jeshov's mittens? It must be a Russian proverb… What does it mean to “keep it in your hands”?” he repeated, turning to me.
“That means,” I answered him with an air as innocent as possible, “to be kind, not too strict, to give more freedom, to keep in tight rein.
“Hm, I understand… ‘and not to give him free rein’ no, yes’s mittens seem to mean something else… ‘At the same time… his passport’… Where is he? Ah, here ... "to write to Semenovsky" ... All right, all right: everything will be done ... "Let me hug myself without ranks and ... an old comrade and friend" - a! finally guessed... and so on and so forth... Well, father," he said, after reading the letter and putting aside my passport, "everything will be done: you will be an officer transferred to the *** regiment*, and so as not to waste your time, then tomorrow then go to the Belogorsk fortress, where you will be in the team of Captain Mironov, a kind and honest man. There you will be in the service of the present, you will learn discipline. There is nothing for you to do in Orenburg; scattering is harmful to a young person. And today you are welcome: dine with me.
“It doesn’t get any easier from time to time! - I thought to myself, - what did it serve me that even in the womb I was already a guard sergeant! Where did it take me? To the *** regiment and to a remote fortress on the border of the Kirghiz-Kaisak steppes! .. ”I dined with Andrei Karlovich, the three of us with his old adjutant. Strict German economy reigned at his table, and I think that the fear of sometimes seeing an extra guest at my idle meal was partly the reason for my hasty removal to the garrison. The next day I said goodbye to the general and went to my destination.
Chapter IIIFortress
We live in a fort
We eat bread and drink water;
And how fierce enemies
They will come to us for pies,
Let's give the guests a feast:
Let's load the cannon.
Soldier song.

Old people, my father.
Undergrowth.*

Belogorsk fortress was located forty miles from Orenburg. The road went along the steep bank of the Yaik. The river had not yet frozen over, and its leaden waves gleamed mournfully in the monotonous banks covered with white snow. Behind them stretched the Kirghiz steppes. I plunged into reflections, mostly sad. Garrison life had little attraction for me. I tried to imagine Captain Mironov, my future chief, and imagined him as a strict, angry old man who knew nothing but his service and was ready to put me under arrest on bread and water for every trifle. Meanwhile, it began to get dark. We drove pretty fast. "Is it far to the fortress?" I asked my driver. “Not far,” he replied. - It's already visible. - I looked in all directions, expecting to see formidable bastions, towers and ramparts; but he saw nothing but a village surrounded by a log fence. On one side were three or four stacks of hay, half covered with snow; on the other, a crooked windmill, with popular print wings lazily lowered. "Where is the fortress?" I asked in surprise. “Yes, here it is,” answered the driver, pointing to the village, and with this word we drove into it. At the gate I saw an old cast-iron cannon; the streets were cramped and crooked; the huts are low and mostly covered with straw. I ordered to go to the commandant, and a minute later the wagon stopped in front of a wooden house built on a high place, near the wooden church.
Nobody met me. I went into the hallway and opened the front door. An old invalid, sitting on a table, was sewing a blue patch on the elbow of his green uniform. I told him to report me. “Come in, father,” answered the invalid, “our houses.” I entered a clean room, decorated in the old fashioned way. In the corner stood a cupboard with dishes; on the wall hung an officer's diploma behind glass and in a frame; around him were lubok pictures representing the capture of Kistrin and Ochakov*, as well as the choice of a bride and the burial of a cat. At the window sat an old woman in a padded jacket and with a scarf on her head. She was unwinding the threads, which she held, uncrossed on her hands, a crooked old man in an officer's uniform. "What do you want, father?" she asked, continuing her work. I answered that I had come to the service and appeared on my duty to the captain, and with this word I turned to the crooked old man, mistaking him for the commandant; but the hostess interrupted my hardened speech. “Ivan Kuzmich is not at home,” she said; “he went to visit Father Gerasim; it doesn't matter, father, I'm his mistress. Please love and respect. Sit down, father." She called the girl and told her to call the constable. The old man looked at me with his lonely eye with curiosity. “I dare to ask,” he said, “in which regiment did you deign to serve?” I satisfied his curiosity. “But I dare to ask,” he continued, “why did you deign to transfer from the guard to the garrison?” I replied that such was the will of the authorities. “Indeed, for indecent actions of an officer of the guard,” continued the indefatigable questioner. “It’s full of lying trifles,” the captain told him; “you see, the young man is tired from the road; he is not up to you ... (keep your arms straighter ...). And you, my father, - she continued, turning to me, - do not be sad that you have been put into our backwoods. You are not the first, you are not the last. Endure, fall in love. Shvabrin Alexei Ivanovich has been transferred to us for the fifth year for murder. God knows what sin beguiled him; he, if you please, went out of town with one lieutenant, and they took swords with them, and, well, they stab each other; and Alexey Ivanovich stabbed the lieutenant to death, and even with two witnesses! What are you supposed to do? There is no master for sin."
At that moment the sergeant entered, a young and stately Cossack. "Maksimych! the captain told him. “Give the officer an apartment, and clean it.” - "I'm listening, Vasilisa Yegorovna," answered the constable. "Shouldn't we place his honor with Ivan Polezhaev?" - “You're lying, Maksimych,” said the captain; “Polezhaev is already so crowded; he is my godfather and remembers that we are his bosses. Take Mr. Officer ... what is your name and patronymic, my father? Pyotr Andreevich? Take Pyotr Andreevich to Semyon Kuzov. He, a swindler, let his horse into my garden. Well, Maksimych, is everything all right?
“All is quiet, thank God,” replied the Cossack;
- Ivan Ignatich! said the captain to the crooked old man. – Disassemble Prokhorov with Ustinya, who is right, who is wrong. Yes, punish them both. Well, Maksimych, go with God. Pyotr Andreevich, Maksimych will take you to your quarters.
I bowed out. The constable led me to a hut that stood on the high bank of the river, on the very edge of the fortress. Half of the hut was occupied by the family of Semyon Kuzov, the other was taken to me. It consisted of one room, quite tidy, divided in two by a partition. Savelich began to dispose of it; I began to look out the narrow window. Before me stretched the sad steppe. Several huts stood obliquely; There were a few chickens roaming the street. The old woman, standing on the porch with a trough, called the pigs, who answered her with friendly grunts. And this is the direction in which I was condemned to spend my youth! Longing took me; I moved away from the window and went to bed without supper, despite the exhortations of Savelich, who repeated with contrition: “Lord, Vladyka! nothing to eat! What will the lady say if the child becomes ill?
The next day, in the morning, I had just begun to dress, when the door opened, and a young officer of short stature entered me, with a swarthy face and remarkably ugly, but extremely lively. “Excuse me,” he said to me in French, “that I come to meet you without ceremony. Yesterday I learned of your arrival; the desire to finally see a human face took possession of me so much that I could not stand it. You will understand this when you live here a little more time. - I guessed that it was an officer discharged from the guard for a duel. We got to know each other right away. Shvabrin was not very stupid. His conversation was sharp and entertaining. With great cheerfulness he described to me the commandant's family, its society, and the region where fate had taken me. I laughed from the bottom of my heart when the same invalid who was repairing the uniform in the commandant's anteroom entered me, and on behalf of Vasilisa Yegorovna invited me to dine with them. Swabrii volunteered to go with me.
Approaching the commandant's house, we saw about twenty old invalids with long braids and three-cornered hats on the platform. They were lined up in front. In front stood the commandant, a vigorous and tall old man, in a cap and in a Chinese dressing gown. Seeing us, he approached us, said a few kind words to me, and again began to command. We stopped to look at the doctrine; but he asked us to go to Vasilisa Yegorovna, promising to follow us. “But here,” he added, “there is nothing for you to see.”
Vasilisa Egorovna received us easily and cordially, and treated me as if she had known me for a century. The invalid and Palashka laid the table. “What is it that my Ivan Kuzmich has memorized so much today! the commandant said. - Palashka, call the master to dinner. But where is Masha? - Here came a girl of about eighteen, round-faced, ruddy, with light blond hair, combed smoothly behind her ears, which were on fire in her. At first glance, I didn't like her very much. I looked at her with prejudice: Shvabrin described Masha, the captain's daughter, to me as a complete fool. Marya Ivanovna sat down in a corner and began to sew. Meanwhile, cabbage soup was served. Vasilisa Yegorovna, not seeing her husband, sent Palashka for him a second time. “Tell the master: the guests are waiting, cabbage soup will get cold; thank God, learning will not go away; will be able to scream." - The captain soon appeared, accompanied by a crooked old man. “What is it, my father? his wife told him. “The food has been served a long time ago, but you won’t be called.” “Do you hear, Vasilisa Yegorovna,” Ivan Kuzmich answered, “I was busy with the service: I taught soldiers.” “And, complete! the captain replied. - Only glory that you teach soldiers: neither service is given to them, nor you know any sense in it. I would sit at home and pray to God; that would be better. Dear guests, welcome to the table.
We sat down to have lunch. Vasilisa Yegorovna did not stop for a minute and showered me with questions: who are my parents, are they alive, where do they live and what is their condition? Hearing that the priest has three hundred souls of peasants, “Is it easy! she said, “there are rich people in the world!” And we, my father, have only one soul, Palashka, but thank God, we live little by little. One trouble: Masha; marriageable girl, what dowry does she have? a frequent comb, and a broom, and an altyn of money (God forgive me!), with which to go to the bathhouse. Well, if there is a kind person; otherwise sit yourself in the girls as an eternal bride. - I looked at Marya Ivanovna; she blushed all over, and even tears dripped onto her plate. I felt sorry for her, and I hastened to change the conversation. “I heard,” I said rather inappropriately, “that the Bashkirs are going to attack your fortress.” - “From whom, father, did you deign to hear this?” asked Ivan Kuzmich. “I was told so in Orenburg,” I replied. “Nonsense! the commandant said. We haven't heard anything in a long time. The Bashkirs are a frightened people, and the Kyrgyz are taught a lesson. I suppose they won’t poke their nose at us; but if they poke their noses in, I’ll set such a wit that I’ll calm down for ten years. ” “And you are not afraid,” I continued, turning to the captain, “to remain in a fortress exposed to such dangers?” “A habit, my father,” she answered. “It’s been twenty years since we were transferred here from the regiment, and God forbid, how I was afraid of those damned infidels! As I envy, it used to be, lynx hats, but as soon as I hear their squeal, do you believe it, my father, my heart will stop! And now I’m so used to it that I won’t even move when they come to tell us that the villains are prowling near the fortress. ”
“Vasilisa Yegorovna is a very brave lady,” Shvabrin remarked importantly. - Ivan Kuzmich can testify to this.
- Yes, you hear, - said Ivan Kuzmich; - a woman is not a timid dozen.
“And Marya Ivanovna?” I asked, “are you as brave as you are?”
- Did Masha dare? her mother answered. - No, Masha is a coward. Until now, he cannot hear a shot from a gun: he will tremble. And just as two years ago Ivan Kuzmich came up with the idea of ​​shooting from our cannon on my name day, so she, my dear, almost went to the next world out of fear. Since then, we have not fired from the damned cannon.
We got up from the table. The captain and the captain's wife went to bed; and I went to Shvabrin, with whom I spent the whole evening.
Chapter IV
- Ying if you please, and become the same in positura.
Look, I'll pierce your figure!*
Knyazhnin.

Several weeks passed, and my life in the Belogorsk fortress became for me not only tolerable, but even pleasant. In the commandant's house I was accepted as a native. Husband and wife were the most respectable people. Ivan Kuzmich, who came out of the soldiers' children as an officer, was an uneducated and simple man, but the most honest and kind. His wife managed him, which was consistent with his carelessness. Vasilisa Yegorovna looked at the affairs of the service as if they were her own, and managed the fortress as precisely as she did her house. Marya Ivanovna soon stopped being shy with me. We met. I found in her a prudent and sensitive girl. In an imperceptible way, I became attached to a good family, even to Ivan Ignatich, a crooked garrison lieutenant, about whom Shvabrin invented that he was in an inadmissible relationship with Vasilisa Yegorovna, which had not even a shadow of plausibility; but Shvabrin did not worry about that.
I was promoted to officer. The service didn't bother me. In the God-saved fortress there were no reviews, no teachings, no guards. The commandant, out of his own free will, sometimes taught his soldiers; but he still could not get them all to know which side is right and which is left, although many of them, in order not to be mistaken in this, put the sign of the cross on themselves before each turn. Shvabrin had several French books. I began to read, and a desire for literature awakened in me. In the mornings I read, practiced translations, and sometimes composing poetry. I almost always dined at the commandant's, where I usually spent the rest of the day and where Father Gerasim sometimes appeared in the evening with his wife Akulina Pamfilovna, the first gossip in the whole neighborhood. Of course, I saw AI Shvabrin every day; but hour by hour his conversation became less agreeable to me. I didn't like his constant jokes about the commandant's family, especially his caustic remarks about Marya Ivanovna. There was no other society in the fortress, but I did not want another.
Despite the predictions, the Bashkirs were not indignant. Tranquility reigned around our fortress. But the peace was interrupted by a sudden internecine strife.
I have already said that I was engaged in literature. My experiments, for those times, were fair, and Alexander Petrovich Sumarokov, a few years later, praised them very much. Once I managed to write a song, which I was pleased with. It is known that writers sometimes, under the guise of demanding advice, look for a benevolent listener. So, having rewritten my song, I took it to Shvabrin, who alone in the whole fortress could appreciate the works of the poet. After a short preface, I took my notebook out of my pocket and read to him the following verses:

Destroying the thought of love, *
I try to forget the beautiful
And ah, avoiding Masha,
I think the liberty to get!

But the eyes that captivated me
All the time before me;
They disturbed my spirit
They destroyed my peace.

You, having recognized my misfortunes,
Have pity, Masha, over me,
In vain me in this fierce part,
And that I am captivated by you.

– How do you find it? I asked Shvabrin, expecting praise, like a tribute, which I would certainly follow. But to my great annoyance, Shvabrin, usually condescending, decisively announced that my song was not good.
- Why is that? I asked him, hiding my annoyance.
“Because,” he answered, “such verses are worthy of my teacher, Vasily Kirilych Tredyakovsky, and very much remind me of his love couplets.
Then he took the notebook from me and began mercilessly to analyze every verse and every word, mocking me in the most caustic way. I could not stand it, tore my notebook out of his hands and said that I would not show him my compositions in my life. Shvabrin laughed at this threat too. “Let's see,” he said, “whether you keep your word: poets need a listener, like Ivan Kuzmich needs a decanter of vodka before dinner. And who is this Masha, before whom you express yourself in tender passion and in love adversity? Isn’t it Marya Ivanovna?”
“None of your business,” I answered with a frown, “whoever this Masha is. I don't want your opinion or your guesses.