Мертвые души
Chapter 4
Yes,whetherornotwebeeducated,thereissomethingwelack.Butwhatthatsomethingispassesmyunderstanding.”
Onthereturnjourneytheprospectwasthesameasbefore.Everywherethesameslovenliness,thesamedisorder,wasdisplayingitselfunadorned:theonlydifferencebeingthatafreshpuddlehadformedinthemiddleofthevillagestreet.Thiswantandneglectwasnoticeableinthepeasants’quartersequallywiththequartersofthebarin.Inthevillageafuriouswomaningreasysackclothwasbeatingapooryoungwenchwithinanaceofherlife,andatthesametimedevotingsomethirdpersontothecareofallthedevilsinhell;furtherawayacoupleofpeasantswerestoicallycontemplatingthevirago—onescratchinghisrumpashedidso,andtheotheryawning.Thesameyawnwasdiscernibleinthebuildings,fornotaroofwastherebuthadagapingholeinit.AshegazedatthescenePlatonhimselfyawned.Patchwassuperimposeduponpatch,and,inplaceofaroof,onehuthadapieceofwoodenfencing,whileitscrumblingwindow-frameswerestayedwithstickspurloinedfromthebarin’sbarn.EvidentlythesystemofupkeepinvoguewasthesystememployedinthecaseofTrishkin’scoat—thesystemofcuttingupthecuffsandthecollarintomendingsfortheelbows.
“No,Idonotadmireyourwayofdoingthings,”wasChichikov’sunspokencommentwhentheinspectionhadbeenconcludedandthepartyhadre-enteredthehouse.Everywhereinthelatterthevisitorswerestruckwiththewayinwhichpovertywentwithglittering,fashionableprofusion.
