Read The Collected Tales of Nikolai Gogol for Free Online Page B

right now, do you hear?”
    Choub himself was already of that sensible intention; but he found it vexing to have to obey the blacksmith’s orders.It seemed some evil spirit nudged his arm, forcing him to say something contrary.
    “Really, why are you shouting so?” he said in the same voice.“I want to sing carols, that’s all!”
    “Oh-ho!there’s no stopping you with words!…” Following these words, Choub felt a most painful blow to his shoulder.
    “So, I see you’re already starting to fight!” he said, retreating a little.
    “Away, away!” the blacksmith cried, awarding Choub another shove.
    “What’s with you!” said Choub, in a voice that expressed pain, vexation, and timorousness.“I see you fight seriously, and painfully, too!”
    “Away, away with you!” the blacksmith shouted and slammed the door.
    “What a brave one!” Choub said, left alone outside.“Try going near him!Just look at the big jackanapes!You think I can’t get justice against you?No, my dear, I’ll go, and go straight to the commissar.You’ll learn about me!I don’t care that you’re a blacksmith and a painter.If I could see my back and shoulders, I suppose they’d be black and blue.He must have beaten me badly, the devil’s son!A pity it’s cold and I don’t want to take my coat off!You wait, fiendish blacksmith, may the devil smash up you and your smithy, I’ll set you dancing!So there, you cursed gallowsbird!He’s not at home now, though.I suppose Solokha is sitting there alone.Hm … it’s not so far from here—why not go!No one else would come in such weather.Maybe it’ll be possible … Ohh, what a painful beating that cursed blacksmith gave me!”
    Here Choub rubbed his back and set out in the other direction.The pleasantness waiting ahead in the meeting with Solokha lessened the pain somewhat and made him insensible to the frost itself, which crackled in all the streets, not muffled by the blizzard’s whistling.At times his face, on which the snowstorm soaped the beard and mustache more deftly than any barber tyrannically seizing his victim by the nose, acquired a half sweet look.And yet, had it not been for the snow that criss-crossed everything before the eyes, you could long have seen Choub stopping, rubbing his back, saying, “A painful beating that cursed blacksmith gave me!” and moving on again.
    W HILE THE NIMBLE fop with the tail and the goat’s beard was flying out of the chimney and back into it, the little pouch that hung on a strap at his side, in which he had put the stolen moon, somehow accidentally caught on something in the oven and came open, and the moon seized the opportunity and, flying out of the chimney of Solokha’s house, rose smoothly into the sky.Everything lit up.It was as if there had been no blizzard.The snow gleamed in wide, silvery fields and was all sprinkled with crystal stars.The frost seemed to grow warmer.Crowds of lads and girls appeared with sacks.Songs rang out, and it was a rare house that had no carolers crowding before it.
    Wondrously the moon shines!It’s hard to describe how good it is to jostle about on such a night with a bunch of laughing and singing girls and lads ready for every joke and prank that a merrily laughing night can inspire.It’s warm under your thick sheepskin;your cheeks burn still brighter with the frost; and the evil one himself pushes you into mischief from behind.
    A crowd of girls with sacks barged into Choub’s house and surrounded Oksana.Shouts, laughter, stories deafened the blacksmith.Interrupting each other, they all hastened to tell the beauty some new thing, unloaded their sacks and boasted about the loaves, sausages, and dumplings, of which they had already collected plenty for their caroling.Oksana seemed perfectly pleased and happy; she chatted, now with this girl, now with that, and laughed all the while.With some vexation and envy the blacksmith looked on at their merriment, and this time he cursed caroling, though