Mum looked up from her embroidery and asked with a kind but ironic smile:
– Really? With a prince?
– Oh, Mum! He’s so handsome! Such a uniform! And shiny buttons, and chevrons!
“There are hundreds of suchlike ‘princes’ at the railway station”,– that was Fonya’s commentary from his cubbyhole. And he shrieked at once being punched by his senior brother. He shouldn’t have said this! But it was too late. Mum was turning to them in full size, her eyes burning: “Who let you stray about the station again?”
The new railway station, not far from the town, was a real nuisance for every mother having a son. It attracted naughty kids as if it were a magnet.
The construction being still in process, it lured boys who managed to flee from their parents’ strict surveillance to see the magic – the road; and, if lucky, to filch a heavy steel nut for a fishing sinker.
The railway was passing a swamp. Marshy ground would swallow up the dams as if taking revenge for disturbing its age-old peace. Local farmers were engaged in digging and construction works but they took to work reluctantly. Only the poorest agreed to work under such conditions. The working day lasted 12–14 hours a day, the workers lived in mud-huts (zemlyankas[7]), where you could feel water under your feet. Accidents and diseases were far from being rare. The constructors were lack of time. The Tsarist Russia wanted to boost trade with the West, and the absence of roads prevented them from getting immediate profits.
If you go straight to the station you can easily get trapped by the quagmire. That is for sure until winter comes and the path will be covered with ice. This is how mother found out about her sons’ raids to the railway. Fonya got his brother’s high-quality boots when he was eight. They were a little loose for the boy.
They both set off to the station. The spring was late that year. The ground did not take in thawed snow, saying nothing about drying out. And alas! Danya got caught in the quagmire and was being slowly swallowed up by the deceptive swamp. Danya managed to pull his brother out of the swamp but they had to sacrifice one of the boots. It goes without saying the brats were taught an unforgettable and the most instructive lesson.
Having heard the conversation, Tina, Agatha’s sister, came into view and called her. You can hardly imagine two sisters being so different. Agatha was short, tender, elegant, narrow-shouldered and with little feet. Her features were like drawn with a sharp pencil, dark thick straight hair reached the beginning of her neck where you could see just a few stray curls. Yet her younger sister was tall (much taller than Agatha, actually), muscular and everything was excessive for a girl her age: a huge crooked nose, a mouth too big for her face, big feet. Her hair was too curly and too difficult to take care of. But despite her appearance Tina was good-tempered, far from being envious and she adored her lovely elder sister. There were kids sleeping in the room (Katya and Panya), so they went on talking in a whisper:
– Tell me, please. What is his name?
– Stanislav. Stas.
– Did you like him?
– You bet!
– Stanislav. Stas.
– Did you kiss?
– Are you crazy?! We just met each other!
– Did he propose to you?
– Tina! You really are crazy! We only danced together. But that was like a fairy tale!
– But if he makes a proposal, will you marry him? Tell me, please, will you marry him?
…One Saturday evening (to say honestly, such deals were made when it was dark enough not to let any trouble peep into the house) there was a loud knock on the door. There was a marshalok[8] that started with the ambiguous: “Have you got a heifer to sell?”[9]
A few conventional questions being asked, the host invited the guest for dinner. The table was promptly covered with a knitted tablecloth, then the guests were provided with a bottle of horilka[10] but he wouldn’t sit down as was prescribed by the tradition. Being an expert in the wedding affairs, he kept in mind some signs of successful undertaking. He knew for sure: if he sat down at once, there would be no trade.
But if the host uncorks the bottle – you have caught the fortune by the tail. You got the parents’ blessing! Marshalok left the house, but he was soon back accompanied by the groom’s parents.
The father when crossing the porch nearly hit the pryvartsabok[11] with his head – he was far from medium height. And the groom’s mother was his match. The details of the marriage were agreed on the same day.
Agatha was an Orthodox, but Stas was a Catholic. Yet both parents peacefully agreed to hold the wedding ceremony in a kost’ol[12]. This way, the marriage was to be acknowledged by both religious branches. The same day it was agreed that the groom’s parents will provide board and bed for the newlyweds for two years.
On the wedding’s eve, early in the morning, Stas’ druzhba[13] rode around the town. He put some bells on his horse’s neck to be heard in every house.
Druzhba was accompanied by the musicians. There was some hrayok[14] among them. His music was said of to be able to awaken the most powerful passion in the hardest hearts. Druzhba would stop at every homestead and invite the dwellers to the wedding.
The wedding started on Sunday. From the early morning the bride’s parents had been looking for the groom. And Agatha was being robed into the wedding dress as the custom demanded. Everything was white from head to toes: dress, stockings, shoes and long bridal veil. Agitated though she was, Agatha was aware not to forget to take some pieces of sugar. She grabbed them into her little palm to treat the horse in the wedding carriage.
Before the departure the young couple was blessed by the parents, and the bride’s mother tossed osypanky[15] onto all people. Everybody caught them. The old belief is that the wedding osypanky grounded into finest powder would cure sick people and cattle. Agatha’s mother did not go to the church – only the father did. Keeping to the custom, he led the bride through the whole church and brought her to Stas and handed his daughter over to a decent man.
– I take you for a hand! – The groom gave the wedding vow.
– I take you for a hand! – The bride replied.
– Till death do us part.
– Till death do us part…
Finally the newlyweds left the church. “What a nice couple!” was heard now and then. The druzhba had got his hands stiff – the groom was rather tall to hold the wedding crown over his head for quite a time. The procession headed for the groom’s homestead. Before the porch Stas promptly raised Agatha as if she were just a feather and brought her into the room. The old belief demands that to be done to trick the evil forces. Presumably, they won’t notice the new dweller if she doesn’t set foot on the porch on the first day.
The gusts were very hungry, awaiting for the young couple to return. No wonder! The tables were abundant with delicious food and drinks: korovai[16], roasted piglet, kholodets[17], borshch[18] and dumplings, fried chicken… Before trying another dish the guests would cry: