FROM THE RUSSIAN OF
NICHOLAS GOGOL.
I.
"Well, son, turn round! let me see thy back! What a queer figure thou art! What priest's cassocks have you got on? And do all of you at the College dress like that?" These were the words with which old Boolba greeted his two sons, who, after completing their education at Kieff, had just returned to their father's house.
His sons had just dismounted from their horses. They were two strong lads, who still looked from beneath their brows as young collegians are apt to do. Their manly healthy features were covered with the first down of hair, unacquainted as yet with the razor. Such a greeting on the part of the father, put them to great confusion, and they stood motionless, with their eyes bent down on the ground.
"Stay, stay a bit; give me leisure to look at you," he went on, turning them round; "what long coats! what coats, indeed! Never in the world were such coats! Here, let one of you just try to run! We shall soon see if he does not fall, and get his legs entangled in his skirts."
"Don't laugh at us, father, don't laugh," said at last the elder son.
"Look at the haughty fellow! and why should I not laugh?"
"For this reason: that though thou art my father, if thou goest on laughing, by Heavens, I'll give thee a thrashing."