they do is to play their pranks! They'll turn out just such Rzhanoff
fellows as their fathers."

One of the boys clad in a great-coat and a visorless cap, heard her
words and halted: "What are you scolding about?" he shouted to the
old woman. "You're an old Rzhanoff nanny-goat yourself!"

I asked the boy:

"And do you live here?"

"Yes, and so does she. She stole boot-legs," shouted the boy; and
raising his foot in front, he slid away.

The old woman burst forth into injurious words, interrupted by a
cough. At that moment, an old man, all clad in rags, and as white as
snow, came down the hill in the middle of the street, flourishing his
hands [in one of them he held a bundle with one little kalatch and
baranki" {6}]. This old man bore the appearance of a person who had
just strengthened himself with a dram. He had evidently heard the
old woman's insulting words, and he took her part.

"I'll give it to you, you imps, that I will!" he screamed at the
boys, seeming to direct his course towards them, and taking a circuit
round me, he stepped on to the sidewalk. This old man creates
surprise on the Arbata by his great age, his weakness, and his
indigence. Here he was a cheery laboring-man returning from his
daily toil.

I followed the old man. He turned the corner to the left, into