come into the middle of the ring, and then there would begin such a turning and skipping and stamping, and then he would fall flat on the ground, and imitate the movement of a fish brought out of the water on to dry land; such turning and wriggling, the heels positively clapped up to the head; and then he would get up and shriek—the earth seemed simply quivering under him. At times Alexey Sergeitch, who was, as I have said already, exceedingly fond of watching dancing, could not resist shouting, 'Little Vania, here! coach-boy! Dance us the fish, smartly now'; and a minute later he would whisper enthusiastically: 'Ah, what a fellow it is!'
Well, on my last visit, this Ivan Suhih came into my room, and, without saying a word, fell on his knees. 'Ivan, what's the matter?' 'Save me, sir.' 'Why, what is it?' And thereupon Ivan told me his trouble.
He was exchanged, twenty years ago, by the Suhy family for a serf of the Teliegins';—simply exchanged without any kind of formality or written deed: the man given in exchange for him had died, but the Suhys had forgotten about Ivan, and he had stayed on in Alexey Sergeitch's house as his own serf; only his nickname had served to recall his origin. But now his former masters were dead; the estate had passed into other hands; and the new owner, who was reported to be a cruel and{{c|204}
