"That's enough! Hold your tongue!"
The peasant closed his lips with a snap, and was silent.
"Devil take it all!" cried the judge indignantly. "I told you, you idiot, to send two boats over to this side, didn't I?"
"Yes, your honour, you did," replied the peasant, with an air of having deserved blame.
"Well, and why did you not do so?"
"I hadn't time, because it went off all of a sudden."
"You blockhead!" replied the judge; then turning to Mamaieff, "These stupid asses can't even understand ordinary language!"
"Yes, that's true; but then they're nothing but peasants," sneered Manaieff, with an ingratiating smirk. "They're a silly race—a dull set of wooden blockheads; but let us hope that this renewed energy of the Zemstvo, this increase of schools, this enlightenment, this education"—
"Schools! Oh yes, indeed! Reading—rooms, magic lanterns! A fine story! I know what it all means. But I'm no enemy to education, as you know yourself. And I know by experience that a good whipping educates quicker and better than does anything else. Birch rods cost the peasant nothing, whereas education strips him bare to the skin, and causes him more suffering than can any rod. Up to the present time education has brought nothing but ruin to the peasant. That's my opinion. I don't, however, object to their being taught; I only say wait a little."
"That's it!" exclaimed the merchant, in a tone of voice that denoted thorough agreement. "It would really be better to wait a little; times are hard for the peasants just now. Failing harvests, sickness and disease, their unfortunate weakness for strong drinks, all these things undermine their prosperity, and then, on the top of this, they pile schools and reading-rooms! What's to be done for the peasant under such circumstances? There is nothing to be done for him, believe me."