'He lies, the old devil!' said Lukashka, angrily. 'She's not such a
girl. If he does not look out I'll wallop that old devil's sides,' and
he began his favourite song:

'From the village of Izmaylov,
From the master's favourite garden,
Once escaped a keen-eyed falcon.
Soon after him a huntsman came a-riding,
And he beckoned to the falcon that had strayed,
But the bright-eyed bird thus answered:
"In gold cage you could not keep me,
On your hand you could not hold me,
So now I fly to blue seas far away.
There a white swan I will kill,
Of sweet swan-flesh have my fill."'

Chapter XXVIII

The bethrothal was taking place in the cornet's hut. Lukashka had
returned to the village, but had not been to see Olenin, and Olenin had
not gone to the betrothal though he had been invited. He was sad as he
had never been since he settled in this Cossack village. He had seen
Lukashka earlier in the evening and was worried by the question why
Lukashka was so cold towards him. Olenin shut himself up in his hut and
began writing in his diary as follows:

'Many things have I pondered over lately and much have I changed,'
wrote he, 'and I have come back to the copybook maxim: The one way to
be happy is to love, to love self-denyingly, to love everybody and
everything; to spread a web of love on all sides and to take all who
come into it. In this way I caught Vanyusha, Daddy Eroshka, Lukashka,
and Maryanka.'

As Olenin was finishing this sentence Daddy Eroshka entered the room.

Eroshka was in the happiest frame of mind. A few evenings before this,
Olenin had gone to see him and had found him with a proud and happy
face deftly skinning the carcass of a boar with a small knife in the
yard. The dogs (Lyam his pet among them) were lying close by watching
what he was doing and gently wagging their tails. The little boys were
respectfully looking at him through the fence and not even teasing him
as was their wont. His women neighbours, who were as a rule not too
gracious towards him, greeted him and brought him, one a jug of
chikhir, another some clotted cream, and a third a little flour. The
next day Eroshka sat in his store-room all covered with blood, and
distributed pounds of boar-flesh, taking in payment money from some and
wine from others. His face clearly expressed, 'God has sent me luck. I
have killed a boar, so now I am wanted.' Consequently, he naturally
began to drink, and had gone on for four days