ed in a single harmonious
chorus. In the rye the quail would be calling, and, in the grass, the
corncrake, and over them would be wheeling flocks of twittering linnets.
Also, the jacksnipe would be uttering its croak, and the lark executing
its roulades where it had become lost in the sunshine, and cranes
sending forth their trumpet-like challenge as they deployed towards the
zenith in triangle-shaped flocks. In fact, the neighbourhood would seem
to have become converted into one great concert of melody. O Creator,
how fair is Thy world where, in remote, rural seclusion, it lies apart
from cities and from highways!

But soon even this began to pall upon Tientietnikov, and he ceased
altogether to visit his fields, or to do aught but shut himself up
in his rooms, where he refused to receive even the bailiff when that
functionary called with his reports. Again, although, until now, he had
to a certain extent associated with a retired colonel of hussars--a man
saturated with tobacco smoke--and also with a student of pronounced, but
immature, opinions who culled the bulk of his wisdom from contemporary
newspapers and pamphlets, he found, as time went on, that these
companions proved as tedious as the rest, and came to think their
conversation superficial, and their European method of comporting
themselves--that is to say, the method of conversing with much slapping
of knees and a great deal of bowing and gesticulation--too direct and
unadorned. So these and every one else he decided to "drop," and carried
this resolution into effect with a certain amount of rudeness. On the
next occasion that Varvar Nikolaievitch Vishnepokromov called to indulge
in a free-and-easy symposium on politics, philosophy, literature,
morals, and the state of financial affairs in England (he was, in all
matters which admit of superficial discussion, the pleasantest fellow
alive, seeing that he was a typical representative both of the retired
fire-eater and of the school of thought which is now becoming the
rage)--when, I say, this next happened, Tientietnikov merely sent out
to say that he was not at home, and then carefully showed himself at the
window. Host and guest exchanged glances, and, while the one muttered
through his teeth "The cur!" the other relieved his feelings with a
remark or two on swine. Thus the acquaintance came to an abrupt end, and
from that time forth no visitor called at the mansion.

Tientietnikov in no way regretted this,