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A very thin, small peasant, dressed in a rough striped shirt and patched trousers,
stands before the investing magistrate. his face is covered with hair scarred from
smallpox, and his eyes can just be seen under his thick, heavy eyebrows. the hair on
his head is long and tangled. he wears no shoes and he looks miserable and
depressed.
"dennis grigoryev!" the magistrate begins. "come nearer, and answer my questions!"
on the seventh of july the railway watchman, ivan semyonovitch akinfov, found you
unscrewing one of the nuts that fix the rails. was this so?
"wha-at?"
"is this true?"
"to be sure, it is true."
"very good; well, what were you unscrewing the nut for?"
"wha-at?"
"stop saying "wha-at" and answer the question; what were you unscrewing the nut for?"
"the nut? we make weights out of those nuts for our fishing lines."
"who is "we"?"
"we, people ...the klimovo peasants, that is."
"listen, my man; don't play the idiot with me, but speak sensibly. it's no use telling lies here!"