“Kind ever loving,” the old man repeated. “Do you know it now? Try it.”
Lukáshka laughed.
“Come, Daddy, was it that that hindered their killing you? Maybe it just happened so!”
“You’ve grown too clever! You learn it all, and say it. It will do you no harm. Well, suppose you have sung ‘Pilgrim’, it’s all right,” and the old man himself began laughing. “But just one thing, Luke, don’t you go to Nogáy!”
“Why?”
“Times have changed. You are not the same men. You’ve become rubbishy Cossacks! And see how many Russians have come down on us! You’d get to prison. Really, give it up! Just as if you could! Now Gírchik and I, we used...”
And the old man was about to begin one of his endless tales, but Lukáshka glanced at the window and interrupted him.
“It is quite light. Daddy. It’s time to be off. Look us up some day.”
“May Christ save you! I’ll go to the officer; I promised to take him out shooting. He seems a good fellow.”