Fathers and Sons
Excerpt
“Well, Petr, no sight of him yet?” asked a gentleman about forty
years old wearing a short, dusty coat and checkered trousers, standing hatless
on the low steps of an inn on the road. It was the twentieth of May 1859. He was
addressing his servant, a round-cheeked young man with whitish down on his chin
and small, lackluster eyes.
The servant, whose turquoise earring, variegated hair plastered with grease, and
refined movements all betokened a man belonging to the newest, most advanced
generation, glanced down the road condescendingly, and replied: “No, sir,
no sight of him at all.”
“No sight of him?” repeated his master.
“No, sir,” the servant responded a second time.
His master sighed and sat down on a little bench. Let’s introduce him to
the reader while he sits looking around thoughtfully, his feet tucked up
underneath him.
His name is Nikolai Petrovich Kirsanov. He owns a fine estate located fifteen
versts from the inn that has two hundred serfs or, as he puts it—ever
since ... read full excerpt from Fathers and Sons ebook
