Shackles. S. Skitalec

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      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 СКАЧАТЬ