Dramatist, short story writer, and novelist; during his early career, worked as a physician, beginning ; editor of the literary section of Russkaya mysl, ; founder of two rural schools. Drama v chetyryokh deystviyakh The Three Sisters: A Drama in Four Acts.
His legs went numb and his gait was affected, so that on one occasion, as he was going along the corridor, he tumbled and fell down with a tray full of ham and peas.
He had to leave his job. All his own savings and his wife's were spent on doctors and medicines; they had nothing left to live upon. He felt dull with no work to do, and he made up his mind he must go home to the village. It is better to be ill at home, and living there is cheaper; and it is a true saying that the walls of home are a help.
He reached Zhukovo towards evening. In his memories of childhood he had pictured his home as bright, snug, comfortable. Now, going into the hut, he was positively frightened; it was so dark, so crowded, so unclean.
His wife Olga and his daughter Sasha, who had come with him, kept looking in bewilderment at the big untidy stove, which filled up almost half the hut and was black with soot and flies.
What lots of flies! The stove was on one side, the beams lay slanting on the walls, and it looked as though the hut were just going to fall to pieces. In the corner, facing the door, under the holy images, bottle labels and newspaper cuttings were stuck on the walls instead of pictures.
The poverty, the poverty! Of the grown-up people there were none at home; all were at work at the harvest. On the stove was sitting a white-headed girl of eight, unwashed and apathetic; she did not even glance at them as they came in. On the floor a white cat was rubbing itself against the oven fork.
Their hut was the third from the end, and seemed the very poorest and oldest-looking; the second was not much better; but the last one had an iron roof, and curtains in the windows. That hut stood apart, not enclosed; it was a tavern. The huts were in a single row, and the whole of the little village -- quiet and dreamy, with willows, elders, and mountain-ash trees peeping out from the yards -- had an attractive look.
Beyond the peasants homesteads there was a slope down to the river, so steep and precipitous that huge stones jutted out bare here and there through the clay. Down the slope, among the stones and holes dug by the potters, ran winding paths; bits of broken pottery, some brown, some red, lay piled up in heaps, and below there stretched a broad, level, bright green meadow, from which the hay had been already carried, and in which the peasants' cattle were wandering.
The river, three-quarters of a mile from the village, ran twisting and turning, with beautiful leafy banks; beyond it was again a broad meadow, a herd of cattle, long strings of white geese; then, just as on the near side, a steep ascent uphill, and on the top of the hill a hamlet, and a church with five domes, and at a little distance the manor-house.
Two little girls, down below, who were dragging up a pail of water, looked round at the church to listen to the bell. Sitting on the edge of the slope, Nikolay and Olga watched the sun setting, watched the gold and crimson sky reflected in the river, in the church windows, and in the whole air -- which was soft and still and unutterably pure as it never was in Moscow.
And when the sun had set the flocks and herds passed, bleating and lowing; geese flew across from the further side of the river, and all sank into silence; the soft light died away in the air, and the dusk of evening began quickly moving down upon them.
Meanwhile Nikolay's father and mother, two gaunt, bent, toothless old people, just of the same height, came back.
The women -- the sisters-in-law Marya and Fyokla -- who had been working on the landowner's estate beyond the river, arrived home, too.
Marya, the wife of Nikolay's brother Kiryak, had six children, and Fyokla, the wife of Nikolay's brother Denis -- who had gone for a soldier -- had two; and when Nikolay, going into the hut, saw all the family, all those bodies big and little moving about on the lockers, in the hanging cradles and in all the corners, and when he saw the greed with which the old father and the women ate the black bread, dipping it in water, he realized he had made a mistake in coming here, sick, penniless, and with a family, too -- a great mistake!
He is not a bad peasant, but too fond of his glass. Kiryak drinks, and so does the old man; it is no use hiding a sin; he knows his way to the tavern.
The Heavenly Mother is wroth. The tea smelt of fish; the sugar was grey and looked as though it had been nibbled; cockroaches ran to and fro over the bread and among the crockery. It was disgusting to drink, and the conversation was disgusting, too -- about nothing but poverty and illnesses.
But before they had time to empty their first cups there came a loud, prolonged, drunken shout from the yard: And again, soon afterwards, the same shout, coarse and drawn-out as though it came out of the earth: Her daughter, the child who had been sitting on the stove and looked so apathetic, suddenly broke into loud weeping.
They heard a drunken cough, and a tall, black-bearded peasant wearing a winter cap came into the hut, and was the more terrible because his face could not be seen in the dim light of the little lamp.
Going up to his wife, he swung his arm and punched her in the face with his fist. Stunned by the blow, she did not utter a sound, but sat down, and her nose instantly began bleeding. Evidently conscious of inspiring fear, and pleased at doing so, Kiryak seized Marya by the arm, dragged her towards the door, and bellowed like an animal in order to seem still more terrible; but at that moment he suddenly caught sight of the visitors and stopped.That An analysis of happiness in gooseberries by anton cheknov number is flat wrong The Japanese began using technical analysis to trade rice in the 17th century.
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13th Edition Front Matter 1 List of Boxes the failures of the campaign at gallipoli Preface 1 3 I Drug Use in Modern Society. Full online text of The Bet by Anton Chekhov.
Other short stories by Anton Chekhov also available along with many others by classic and contemporary authors.
The Cherry Orchard (Russian: Вишнёвый сад, translit. Vishnyovyi sad) is the last play by Russian playwright Anton Chekhov. Written in , it was first published by Znaniye (Book Two, ),  and came out as a separate edition later that year in Saint Petersburg, via A.F. Marks Publishers. . Anton Pavlovich Chekhov was born on 29 January in the port town of Taganrog (at the northern tip of the Black Sea between Ukraine and Russia) in Rostov Oblast, Southern Russia, the third of six children born to Yevgenia Yakovlevna Morozov, daughter of a well-traveled cloth merchant and Pavel Yegorovitch (), a grocer. Peasants. I NIKOLAY TCHIKILDYEEV, a waiter in the Moscow hotel, Slavyansky Bazaar, was taken ill. His legs went numb and his gait was affected, so that on one occasion, as he was going along the corridor, he tumbled and fell down with a tray full of ham and peas.
Peasants. I NIKOLAY TCHIKILDYEEV, a waiter in the Moscow hotel, Slavyansky Bazaar, was taken ill. His legs went numb and his gait was affected, so that on one occasion, as he was going along the corridor, he tumbled and fell down with a tray full of ham and peas.
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