in the morning; the cook and the chambermaid were still sleeping and
the door was closed with a hook--it was hard to believe that the
people would stir and commence to run about, and that the rooms would
assume a holiday appearance, and he feared for the fate of the
festival. It was still worse in the garden. The paths were not
swept and there was not a single lantern there. He grew very uneasy.
Fortunately, Yevmen, the coachman, was washing the carriage behind
the barn in the back yard and though he had done this frequently
before, and though there was nothing unusual about his appearance,
Yura clearly felt something of the holiday in the decisive way in
which the coachman splashed the water from the bucket with his sinewy
arms, on which the sleeves of his red blouse were rolled up to his
elbows. Yevmen only glanced askance at Yura, and suddenly Yura seemed
to have noticed for the first time his broad, black, wavy beard and
thought respectfully that Yevmen was a very worthy man. He said:

"Good morning, Yevmen."

Then all moved very rapidly. Suddenly the janitor appeared and
started to sweep the paths, suddenly the window in the kitchen was
thrown open and women's voices were heard chattering; suddenly the
chambermaid rushed out with a little rug and started to beat it with
a stick, as though it were a dog. All commenced to stir; and the
events, starting simultaneously in different places, rushed with such
mad swiftness that it was impossible to catch up with them. While
the nurse was giving Yura his tea, people were beginning to hang up
the wires for the lanterns in the garden, and while the wires were
being stretched in the garden, the furniture was rearranged
completely in the drawing room, and while the furniture was
rearranged in the drawing room, Yevmen, the coachman, harnessed the