“Well, have you slept well? Why don’t you say how do you do? Well, now my friends of Kursk,” he said, sitting down by the side of the feasters, “good appetite? Here’s a new guest for you.”
“We are not from the province of Kursk.”
“Then my friends from Tambof, let me say?”
“We are not from Tambof either. You have nothing to claim from us; if you want to enjoy yourself go to some rich peasant.”
“I have Maria Ikotishna [from “ikot,” hiccough] in my belly, otherwise I should die of hunger. But where is your peasant to be found?”
“Good heavens! we mean Gazin; go to him.”
“Gazin is on the drink to-day, he’s devouring his capital.”
“He has at least twenty roubles,” says another convict. “It is profitable to keep a drinking shop.”
“You won’t have me? Then I must eat the Government food.”