and golden on the snow; steam of the horsesâ breath, blankets across our laps . . .
But this is summer, and they took the small trap with Roman driving, just one horse, a new one that Pasha bought in the spring at the fair. Roman says the horse is the nervous sort, and heâs of the opinion that Pasha has wasted his money and thereâll be no end of problems with this mare, Agrifina. I remember the fuss at the time. Pasha countered that sheâd be an excellent brood mare and would calm down in due time. Why they took her today, I have no ideaâperhaps Grusha was lame or overworkedâin any event, the mare grewskittish on the road between Luka and Tokari in the typically mysterious way of animals, we donât know why there, more than elsewhere, but Elena suspects there must be a bull in the fields to the north of the road. Agrifina stopped this side of the small bridge over the stream and would not take another step. Roman made some Romanish groans and shouts and was reaching for the whip when Elena jumped down and went to the nervous mare, stood by her with one hand on her neck and the other on her nose, and just talked to her. In a calm, sweet voice, as if speaking to a child, was the way Anton Pavlovich described it, and after a minute of Roman grumbling and Anton Pavlovich offering to help and being told she could manage on her own, Elena took Agrifina by the reins, close to the bit, and led her over the bridge, talking all the while, looking back at the two men as if we were useless children, sighed Anton Pavlovich, and then she climbed back up into the trap and took the reins and drove them the rest of the way.
I see her: head held high, back arched, arms ramrod-straight before her, a proud nervousness about her, and something she would share with the animal before stepping aside for the men. I did not say as much to Anton Pavlovich, but clearly, he had never seen a woman so capable with a trace horse, and he even said as much. Then you havenât spent much time in the country, I countered, and he protested that he had spent many summers outside Moscow and had grown up in a fairly provincial sort of town where the countryside was never far away, but the ladies were generally afraid of horses and not about to deal with an animalâs fear in addition to their own.
To me, Elenaâs behavior was not at all unusual; I have seen her react with equal courage and determination on numerous occasions. We have grown up with our beasts, we live with them. I felt a moment of bemused sympathy for Anton Pavlovich, that he was so poorly acquainted with this rich world of country life,or knew it only for tea parties and fishing expeditions. I think he was rather annoyed when I said, Itâs only normal, itâs what we do here. There was a momentâs silence, and then he said, Well then, Zinaida Mikhailovna, if I write a novel and it is a success, I shall buy my own country estate and cultivate an understanding with my equine fellows, just as your sister has done.
He went on to tell me heâd met our regular lodger Artyomenko, the one who works at the Kharitonenko factory who is an avid fisherman; they would be going that evening to explore the waters around the islands. A grand fellow, he called him.
Before taking his leave, he asked me about the water bittern. Like many visitors to our region, he is intrigued by the birdâs peculiar call and wonders if I know what it looks like, as he would like to see it while he is here. I tell him that it is difficult to get a proper sighting; moreover, if he asks the peasants, each one will describe the most fantastical creature, something like the Firebird, the Zhar-ptitsa, but never two versions alike.
May 20, 1888
Monsieur Pleshcheyev has arrived, and he has brought some scores for Georges! So in addition to poetry, we shall have new works by Tchaikovsky. When Anton Pavlovich learned of Georgesâs talent and his love of Tchaikovsky, which
But this is summer, and they took the small trap with Roman driving, just one horse, a new one that Pasha bought in the spring at the fair. Roman says the horse is the nervous sort, and heâs of the opinion that Pasha has wasted his money and thereâll be no end of problems with this mare, Agrifina. I remember the fuss at the time. Pasha countered that sheâd be an excellent brood mare and would calm down in due time. Why they took her today, I have no ideaâperhaps Grusha was lame or overworkedâin any event, the mare grewskittish on the road between Luka and Tokari in the typically mysterious way of animals, we donât know why there, more than elsewhere, but Elena suspects there must be a bull in the fields to the north of the road. Agrifina stopped this side of the small bridge over the stream and would not take another step. Roman made some Romanish groans and shouts and was reaching for the whip when Elena jumped down and went to the nervous mare, stood by her with one hand on her neck and the other on her nose, and just talked to her. In a calm, sweet voice, as if speaking to a child, was the way Anton Pavlovich described it, and after a minute of Roman grumbling and Anton Pavlovich offering to help and being told she could manage on her own, Elena took Agrifina by the reins, close to the bit, and led her over the bridge, talking all the while, looking back at the two men as if we were useless children, sighed Anton Pavlovich, and then she climbed back up into the trap and took the reins and drove them the rest of the way.
I see her: head held high, back arched, arms ramrod-straight before her, a proud nervousness about her, and something she would share with the animal before stepping aside for the men. I did not say as much to Anton Pavlovich, but clearly, he had never seen a woman so capable with a trace horse, and he even said as much. Then you havenât spent much time in the country, I countered, and he protested that he had spent many summers outside Moscow and had grown up in a fairly provincial sort of town where the countryside was never far away, but the ladies were generally afraid of horses and not about to deal with an animalâs fear in addition to their own.
To me, Elenaâs behavior was not at all unusual; I have seen her react with equal courage and determination on numerous occasions. We have grown up with our beasts, we live with them. I felt a moment of bemused sympathy for Anton Pavlovich, that he was so poorly acquainted with this rich world of country life,or knew it only for tea parties and fishing expeditions. I think he was rather annoyed when I said, Itâs only normal, itâs what we do here. There was a momentâs silence, and then he said, Well then, Zinaida Mikhailovna, if I write a novel and it is a success, I shall buy my own country estate and cultivate an understanding with my equine fellows, just as your sister has done.
He went on to tell me heâd met our regular lodger Artyomenko, the one who works at the Kharitonenko factory who is an avid fisherman; they would be going that evening to explore the waters around the islands. A grand fellow, he called him.
Before taking his leave, he asked me about the water bittern. Like many visitors to our region, he is intrigued by the birdâs peculiar call and wonders if I know what it looks like, as he would like to see it while he is here. I tell him that it is difficult to get a proper sighting; moreover, if he asks the peasants, each one will describe the most fantastical creature, something like the Firebird, the Zhar-ptitsa, but never two versions alike.
May 20, 1888
Monsieur Pleshcheyev has arrived, and he has brought some scores for Georges! So in addition to poetry, we shall have new works by Tchaikovsky. When Anton Pavlovich learned of Georgesâs talent and his love of Tchaikovsky, which
Similar Books
