“How have I offended you, Ivan Ivanovich? I have not attacked your father nor your mother. I don’t know how I have insulted you.”

“Enough, enough, Ivan Nikiforovich!”

“By Heavens, Ivan Ivanovich, I did not insult you!”

“It’s strange that the quails haven’t come yet to the whistle.”

“Think what you please, but I have not insulted you in any way.”

“I don’t know why they don’t come,” said Ivan Ivanovich, as if he did not hear Ivan Nikiforovich; “it is more than time for them already;… but they seem to need more time, for some reason.”

“You say that the barley is good?”

“Splendid barley, splendid!”

A silence ensued.

“So you are having your clothes aired, Ivan Nikiforovich?” said Ivan Ivanovich, at length.

“Yes: those cursed women have ruined some beautiful clothes; almost new, they were, too. Now I’m having them aired: the cloth is fine and handsome. They only need turning to make them fit to wear again.”

“One thing among them pleased me extremely, Ivan Nikiforovich.”

“Which was that?”

“Tell me, please, what do you do with the gun that has been put to air with the clothes?” Here Ivan Ivanovich offered his snuff. “May I ask you to do me the favor?”

“By no means! take it yourself: I will use my own.” Thereupon Ivan Nikiforovich felt about him, and got hold of his snuff-box. “That stupid woman! So she hung the gun out to air. That Jew makes good snuff in Sorochintzi. I don’t know what he puts into it, but it is so fragrant. It is a little like tansy. Here, take a little, and chew it: isn’t it like tansy?”

“Say, Ivan Nikiforovich, I want to talk about that gun: what are you going to do with it? You don’t need it.”

“Why don’t I need it? I might want to shoot.”

“God be with you, Ivan Nikiforovich! When will you shoot? At the millennium, perhaps? So far as I know, or any one can recollect, you never killed even a duck: yes, and your nature was not so constructed that you can shoot. You have a dignified bearing and figure: how are you to drag yourself about the marshes, when your garment, which it is not polite to mention in conversation by name, is being aired at this very moment? What then? No: you require rest, repose.” (Ivan Ivanovich, as has been hinted at above, employed uncommonly picturesque language when it was necessary to persuade any one. How he talked! Heavens, how he could talk!) “Yes, and you require polite actions. See here, give it to me!”

“The idea! The gun is valuable: you can’t find such guns anywhere nowadays. I bought it of a Turk when I joined the militia; and now, to give it away all of a sudden! Impossible! It is an indispensable article.”

“Indispensable for what?”

“For what? What if robbers should attack the house?… Indispensable indeed! Glory to God! now I am at ease, and fear no one. And why? Because I know that a gun stands in my store-house.”