Osip took his tax book into the village chief’s cabin, and the police chief, a thin old man with long gray cheeks and beard, was sitting at table 74 and writing something. The room was clean, and the walls were covered with colorful pictures torn from magazines. In the most conspicuous place next to the icon, there was a portrait of the former Bulgarian archduke Batenbeck, Anjipu Sedelnikov, with his arms crossed on his chest at the table.
My Lord, he owed 119 rubles. When it was Osip’s turn, the village chief said that he had paid a ruble before Easter and had no money since that day.
District police chief looked up at Osip asked.
What hometown is this?
Your grace, Osip, said excitedly, let me say a few words. In the first year, the master of Liutoletz village told me that Osip sold your hay to me. Why not? I want to sell a hundred putts of hay. Some women cut the grass. We have settled the price. It’s good for you.
He complained that the village chief turned to look at those plowmen from time to time, as if he wanted them to testify, as if his face was flushed, his forehead was sweating and his eyes became sharp and fierce.
I don’t know why you said this. The director of the district police branch said that I asked you. I asked you what you didn’t pay. All of you dare not let me take this responsibility.
I can’t get it.
According to the adult village head, it’s true that the Deyev family in Cicchilli belongs to the poor class, but ask the rest of you to blame Vodka and a bunch of Hu Fei guys.
The district police chief wrote something down and calmly said to Osip that the tone was like begging for a glass of water.
Go back.
The district police chief left soon. He got into a cheap carriage and coughed and looked at his long and thin back. At this moment, he had forgotten Osip, the village chief and Rukovo village’s debts. He was thinking about his own thoughts, but he had not left yet. Russian Jipu Sedelnikov had taken away the tea pot from Deyev’s house in Cicchilli, and grandma was screaming after her.
Don’t give me, don’t give you this devil.
The village chief strode fast, and the old woman hunched her back and stumbled after him angrily. Her headscarf fell to her shoulders, and her white hair was pale green, fluttering in the wind. She suddenly lived like a real rebel, punching her chest and dragging her long voice, shouting and cursing louder and crying.
Christians believe in the emperor, God, they bully people, folks, they oppress people, alas, alas, good people, speak for me.
Grandma, grandma, village head, Li said no trouble.
Without the tea cooker, Cicchilli Deyev’s family became very dull. The tea cooker was taken away by someone, which was a loss of dignity and dignity, just like the family’s reputation was suddenly discredited. It would be better if the village chief took the table and bench and took the bottles and jars. In that case, there would be some grandmothers crying in the room. The little girl looked at them and cried. The old man felt ashamed and sat in the corner without saying a word. Nikolai always loved him, but now she forgot to pity him. Suddenly, he kept yelling at him and shaking his fist in his face. She scolded him that he was not bragging in his letter that he had earned fifty rubles a month in Slavic shopping malls, but he actually sent so little money to his family. Why did he come home with a youngest son? If he died, how could he afford to bury him? Nikolai Olga Sasha looked miserable.
The old man coughed, picked up his hat and went to the village head. It was dark. Antip Sedelnikov drummed his cheeks and helped to weld something by the stove. The room smelled of gas. His children were all thin and dirty, crawling around the floor. Not much better than Qi Kildeyev’s family. His wife was ugly, her face was freckled and her belly was reeling. This is an unfortunate and impoverished family. Antip looked young and beautiful alone. On the bench, there were five cups of tea to cook. The old man read a prayer to Batenbeck.
Antip, please have mercy and give me back the teapot for Christ’s sake.
Bring three roubles and you take them.
I can’t get it.
From time to time, Antip summoned the gills to help the fire and crackled to make the fire red. The old tea-pot man rubbed his hat and thought for a moment and said
Give it back to me
The tanned village chief is dark like a wizard at the moment. He turns to Osip and speaks quickly and harshly.
It’s up to the local governor to decide. On the 26th of the month, you can complain to the Executive Council orally or in person about your dissatisfaction.
Osip didn’t understand his meaning at all, so he went home.
More than ten days later, the director of the district police station came again and sat for an hour, and then left by car. Those days were windy and cold, and the river was already covered with ice and snow, but the road was difficult to walk. One day, it was difficult. In the evening of a holiday, neighbors sat around Osip’s house and chatted. They were talking in a dark room because they couldn’t work during the festival and didn’t light up the news. However, it was more frustrating than two or three families. Hens were arrested to pay debts and sent to Xianggong, where they died because no one fed them and were dragged away than several sheep. They tied
Blame the local government, Osip said, don’t blame it or blame it.
I didn’t say I should blame the local government
They blamed the local government for the oppression of their debts and the apology for food, although none of them knew what the local government was all about. This situation has a long history. At first, some wealthy farmers had become members of the local government in the factory inn, but they were finally dissatisfied. Later, they cursed the local government in their own factories.