In the evening, after the races, when people were going to bed, an expensive concertina was played in the Juniors’ yard and, if it were a moonlight night, those sounds sent a thrill of delight to the heart, and Ukleevo no longer seemed a wretched hole.

II

The elder son Anisim came home very rarely, only on great holidays, but he often sent by a returning villager presents and letters written in very good writing by some other hand, always on a sheet of foolscap in the form of a petition.  The letters were full of expressions that Anisim never made use of in conversation:  “Dear papa and mamma, I send you a pound of flower tea for the satisfaction of your physical needs.”

At the bottom of every letter was scratched, as though with a broken pen:  “Anisim Tsybukin,” and again in the same excellent hand:  “Agent.”

The letters were read aloud several times, and the old father, touched, red with emotion, would say: 

“Here he did not care to stay at home, he has gone in for an intellectual line.  Well, let him!  Every man to his own job!”

It happened just before Carnival there was a heavy storm of rain mixed with hail; the old man and Varvara went to the window to look at it, and lo and behold!  Anisim drove up in a sledge from the station.  He was quite unexpected.  He came indoors, looking anxious and troubled about something, and he remained the same all the time; there was something free and easy in his manner.  He was in no haste to go away, it seemed, as though he had been dismissed from the service.  Varvara was pleased at his arrival; she looked at him with a sly expression, sighed, and shook her head.

“How is this, my friends?” she said.  “Tut, tut, the lad’s in his twenty-eighth year, and he is still leading a gay bachelor life; tut, tut, tut....”

From the other room her soft, even speech sounded like tut, tut, tut.  She began whispering with her husband and Aksinya, and their faces wore the same sly and mysterious expression as though they were conspirators.

It was decided to marry Anisim.

“Oh, tut, tut... the younger brother has been married long ago,” said Varvara, “and you are still without a helpmate like a cock at a fair.  What is the meaning of it?  Tut, tut, you will be married, please God, then as you choose—­you will go into the service and your wife will remain here at home to help us.  There is no order in your life, young man, and I see you have forgotten how to live properly.  Tut, tut, it’s the same trouble with all you townspeople.”

When the Tsybukins married, the most handsome girls were chosen as brides for them as rich men.  For Anisim, too, they found a handsome one.  He was himself of an uninteresting and inconspicuous appearance; of a feeble, sickly build and short stature; he had full, puffy cheeks which looked as though he were blowing them out; his eyes looked with a keen, unblinking stare; his beard was red and scanty, and when he was thinking he always put it into his mouth and bit it; moreover he often drank too much, and that was noticeable from his face and his walk.  But when he was informed that they had found a very beautiful bride for him, he said: