Emma Watson Pussy
Books:
Anna Karenina
War And Peace
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day
he is sensible, well educated, and good-natured, and the next hes a
wild beast.... In Poland, if you please, he nearly killed a Jew."
"Oh, well, well!" remarked the regimental commander. "Still, one
must have pity on a young man in misfortune. You know he has important
connections... Well, then, you just..."
"I will, your excellency," said Timokhin, showing by his smile
that he understood his commanders wish.
"Well, of course, of course!"
The regimental commander sought out Dolokhov in the ranks and,
reining in his horse, said to him:
"After the next affair... epaulettes."
Dolokhov looked round but did not say anything, nor did the
mocking smile on his lips change.
"Well, thats all right," continued the regimental commander. "A cup
of vodka for the men from me," he added so that the soldiers could
hear. "I thank you all! God be praised!" and he rode past that company
and overtook the next one.
"Well, hes really a good fellow, one can serve under him," said
Timokhin to the subaltern beside him.
"In a word, a hearty one..." said the subaltern, laughing (the
regimental commander was nicknamed King of Hearts).
The cheerful mood of their officers after the inspection infected
the soldiers. The company marched on gaily. The soldiers voices could
be heard on every side.
"And they said Kutuzov was blind of one eye?"
"And so he is! Quite blind!"
"No, friend, he is sharper-eyed than you are. Boots and leg bands...
he noticed everything..."
"When he looked at my feet, friend... well, thinks I..."
"And that other one with him, the Austrian, looked as if he were
smeared with chalk--as white as flour! I suppose they polish him up as
they do the guns."
"I say, Fedeshon!... Did he say when the battles are to begin? You
were near him. Everybody said that Buonaparte himself was at Braunau."
"Buonaparte himself!... Just listen to the fool, what he doesnt
know! The Prussians are up in arms now. The Austrians, you see, are
putting them down. When theyve been put down, the war with Buonaparte
will begin. And he says Buonaparte is in Braunau! Shows youre a fool.
Youd better listen more carefully!"
"What devils these quartermasters are! See, the fifth company is
turning into the village already... they will have their buckwheat
cooked before we reach our quarters."
"Give me a biscuit, you devil!"
"And did you give me tobacco yesterday? Thats just it, friend!
Ah, well, never mind, here you are."
"They might call a halt here or well have to do another four
miles without eating."
"Wasnt it fine when those Germans gave us lifts! You just sit still
and are drawn along."
"And here, friend, the people are quite beggarly. There they all
seemed to be Poles--all under the Russian crown--but here theyre
all regular Germans."
"Singers to the front" came the captains order.
And from the different ranks some twenty men ran to the front. A
drummer, their leader, turned round facing the singers, and
flourishing his arm, began a long-drawn-out soldiers song, commencing
with the words: "Morning dawned, the sun was rising," and
concluding: "On then, brothers, on to glory, led by Father
Kamenski." This song had been composed in the Turkish campaign and now
being sung in Austria, the only change being that the words "Father
Kamenski" were replaced by "Father Kutuzov."
Having jerked out these last words as soldiers do and waved his arms
as if flinging something to the ground, the drummer--a lean,
handsome soldier of forty--looked sternly at the singers and screwed
up his eyes. Then having satisfied himself that all eyes were fixed on
him, he raised both arms as if carefully lifting some invisible but
precious object above his head and, holding it there for some seconds,
suddenly flung it down and began:
"Oh, my bower, oh, my bower...!"
"Oh, my bower new...!" chimed in twenty voices, and the castanet
player, in spite of the burden of his equipment, rushed out to the
front and, walking backwards before the company, jerked his
shoulders and flourished his castanets as if threatening someone.
The soldiers, swinging their arms and keeping time spontaneously,
marched with long steps. Behind the company the sound of wheels, the
creaking of springs, and the tramp of horses hoofs were heard.
Kutuzov and his suite were returning to the town. The commander in
chief made a sign that the men should continue to march at ease, and
he and all his suite showed pleasure at the sound of the singing and
the sight of the dancing soldier and the gay and smartly marching men.
In the second file from the right flank, beside which the
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