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Denna sida har korrekturlästs minst en gång.
(skillnad)
(historik)
trembling aspens in their variegated
autumn-tints, or a picturesque mountain-ash with its
brilliant vermilion berries. Suddenly you hear
screams from one of the carriages, the driver’s
cap sticks to a dripping wet birch-branch, which
hangs down over the road; when he tries to
catch it somebody shakes the branch, sending a
shower of fragrant dew over all the persons in
the carriage, which calls forth peals of laughter
and jokes.
Now they stop at the gamekeeper’s lodge. It
is roofed with planks, and looks cleaner and more
comfortable than most cottages in ‘White
Russia.’ It stands in a little meadow, and—a
rare luxury for a peasant in this country—is
surrounded by a small garden, where you can see
some red poppies and a few yellow sunflowers in
the midst of the cabbages; some apple-trees, too,
covered with beautiful red apples, the owner’s
particular pride, because he has planted them
himself.
The gamekeeper is about seventy, his long
beard is snow-white, but he looks healthy and
strong with his grave dignified face. He is taller
and more robust than most of his countrymen,
and his face reflects the surrounding woods’
majestic calm. All his children are provided
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