beard and small eyes, always embittered and gloomy, seeing the dark side of everything, and often puzzling the Meeting by his unexpected and abrupt questions and remarks. Both these speakers sided with Resoún. Besides these, now and then two chatterers joined in: one with a most good-humoured face and flowing brown beard, called Hrapkóf, who kept repeating the words, “Oh, my dearest friend!” the other, Zhidkóf, a little fellow with a birdlike face, who also kept remarking at every opportunity, “That’s how it is, brothers mine!” addressing himself to everybody and speaking fluently, but without rhyme or reason. They both sided first with one and then with the other party, but no one listened to them. There were others like them, but these two, who kept moving through the crowd and shouting louder than anybody and frightening the proprietress, were listened to less than anyone else, and, intoxicated by the noise and shouting, gave themselves up entirely to the pleasure of wagging their tongues.
There were many other characters among the members of the Commune, stern, respectable, indifferent, dismal, or downtrodden; and there were women standing behind the men, but, God willing, I’ll speak of them some other time. The greater part of the crowd, however, consisted of peasants who stood as if they were in church, whispering behind each other’s backs about home affairs, about how best to mark the trees in the forest, or silently hoping that the jabbering would soon cease. There were also rich peasants, whose well-being the Meeting could not add to nor diminish. Such was Ermíl, with his broad, shiny face, whom the peasants called the “full-bellied,” because he was rich. Such too was Stárostin, whose face seemed to say, “You may talk away, but no one will touch me! I have four sons, but not one of them will have to go.” Now and then these two were attacked by some independent thinker such as Kopýlof or Resoún, but they replied quietly and firmly, and with a sense of their own immunity. If Doútlof was like the mother-hen in the game of hawk-and-chickens, his lads did not much resemble the chicks. They did not flutter about and squeak, but stood quietly behind him.