“And I say so too,” put in the tipsy Ergushóv, laughing. “What a lot of visitors have come,” he added, pointing to a soldier who was passing by. “The soldiers’ vodka is good—I like it.”
“They’ve sent three of the devils to us,” said one of the women. “Grandad went to the village Elders, but they say nothing can be done.”
“Ah, ha! Have you met with trouble?” said Ergushóv.
“I expect they have smoked you out with their tobacco?” asked another woman. “Smoke as much as you like in the yard, I say, but we won’t allow it inside the hut. Not if the Elder himself comes, I won’t allow it. Besides, they may rob you. He’s not quartered any of them on himself, no fear, that devil’s son of an Elder.”
“You don’t like it?” Ergushóv began again.
“And I’ve also heard say that the girls will have to make the soldiers’ beds and offer them chikhir and honey,” said Nazárka, putting one foot forward and tilting his cap like Lukáshka.
Ergushóv burst into a roar of laughter, and seizing the girl nearest to him, he embraced her. “I tell you true.”
“Now then, you black pitch!” squealed the girl, “I’ll tell your old woman.”
“Tell her,” shouted he. “That’s quite right what Nazárka says; a circular has been sent round. He can read, you know. Quite true!” And he began embracing the next girl.
“What are you up to, you beast?” squealed the rosy, round-faced Ústenka, laughing and lifting her arm to hit him.