expression rather pleasant, but slightly mischievous. His hair was cut
short. He wore a little torn _armak_,[21] and wide Tartar trousers.

I offered him a cup of tea; he tasted it, and made a wry face.

"Do me the favour, your excellency," said he to me, "to give me a glass
of brandy; we Cossacks do not generally drink tea."

I willingly acceded to his desire. The host took from one of the shelves
of the press a jug and a glass, approached him, and, having looked him
well in the face--

"Well, well," said he, "so here you are again in our part of the world.
Where, in heaven's name, do you come from now?"

My guide winked in a meaning manner, and replied by the well-known
saying--

"The sparrow was flying about in the orchard; he was eating hempseed;
the grandmother threw a stone at him, and missed him. And you, how are
you all getting on?"

"How are we all getting on?" rejoined the host, still speaking in
proverbs.

"Vespers were beginning to ring, but the wife of the _pope_[22] forbid
it; the pope went away on a visit, and the devils are abroad in the
churchyard."

"Shut up, uncle," retorted the vagabond. "When it rains there will be