Chapter 28

The bethrothal was taking place in the cornet's hut. Lukashka had
returned to the village, but had not been to see Olenin, and
Olenin had not gone to the betrothal though he had been invited.
He was sad as he had never been since he settled in this Cossack
village. He had seen Lukashka earlier in the evening and was
worried by the question why Lukashka was so cold towards him.
Olenin shut himself up in his hut and began writing in his diary
as follows:

'Many things have I pondered over lately and much have I changed,'
wrote he, 'and I have come back to the copybook maxim: The one way
to be happy is to love, to love self-denyingly, to love everybody
and everything; to spread a web of love on all sides and to take
all who come into it. In this way I caught Vanyusha, Daddy
Eroshka, Lukashka, and Maryanka.'

As Olenin was finishing this sentence Daddy Eroshka entered the
room.

Eroshka was in the happiest frame of mind. A few evenings before
this, Olenin had gone to see him and had found him with a proud
and happy face deftly skinning the carcass of a boar with a small
knife in the yard. The dogs (Lyam his pet among them) were lying
close by watching what he was doing and gently wagging their
tails. The little boys were respectfully looking at him through
the fence and not even teasing him as was their wont. His women
neighbours, who were as a rule not too gracious towards him,
greeted him and brought him, one a jug of chikhir, another some
clotted cream, and a third a little flour. The next day Eroshka
sat in his store-room all covered with blood, and distributed
pounds of boar-flesh, taking in payment money from some and wine
from others. His face clearly expressed, 'God has sent me luck. I
have killed a boar, so now I am wanted.' Consequently, he
naturally began to drink, and had gone on for four days never
leaving the village. Besides which he had had something to drink
at the betrothal.

He came to Olenin quite drunk: his face red, his beard tangled,
but wearing a new beshmet trimmed with gold braid; and he brought
with him a balalayka which he had obtained beyond the river. He
had long promised Olenin this treat, and felt in the mood for it,
so that he was sorry to find Olenin writing.

'Write on, write on, my lad,' he whispered, as if he thought that
a spirit sat between him and the paper and must not be frightened
away, and he softly and silently sat down on the floor. When Daddy
Eroshka was drunk his favourite position was on the floor. Olenin
looked round, ordered some wine to be brought, and continued to
write. Eroshka found it dull to drink by himself and he wished to
talk.

'I've been to the betrothal at the cornet's. But there! They're