Early autumn brings a lot of work to philistine gardeners. Those hired men – mainly for collecting apples, the smell of which fills the manors. On public holidays the burghers are engaged in brisk trade – they are selling their crops to white-headed boys, dressed-up girls, an important old age. In the evening, the bustle subsides, only the watchmen are awake, guarding the fruit trees, so that they do not shake off.
Autumns are rejoicing not only philistines, but also simple peasant, peasants, who, on the feast of the feast days, find out what will be the winter and the whole next year. The author in a kind way envies a measured order in the life of wealthy peasants and rejoices that he did not find serfdom. The storehouse of their lives is not much different from the storehouse of the life of the old nobles. On holidays, abundant feasts are obligatory, when generous treats are prepared from the fact that the garden will give birth.
Generic nests, whose owners lived on a broad foot, are few. The only thing that now supports the spirit and traditions of the past in many estates is kennels and gardens. Due to the hounds, there is a hunt that was once one of the main fun of the Russian aristocracy. However, there is another repository of the old noble spirit – these are libraries. When the landlord happened to oversleep hunting, he went into old books and spent reading all day reading. These libraries are full of portraits of pretty girls and women, giving a special flavor to old manors.
The ancestral nests fade, the smell of Antonov’s apples leaves their gardens. But a beggarly small life is also good. Such a gentleman rises early, drinks tea, gives instructions, checks work on the threshing floor. The landlord portrays himself as an aristocrat of the “old cut”. And the peasants around pretend that life goes on as before, as was the case with grandfathers.