"Since the day before yesterday it's no longer mine, I can see that," Ivko said.
"You keep quiet, you bald devil!" Ivko shot back, but then calmed himself, took up a modest pose and continued: "Go away, haven't you had enough?!" he began to count on his fingers: "You came, sat down, drank, ate, and drank again; you ate supper, breakfast and drank again; you slept, fired you guns, killed my chickens, beat my servants, upset the neighborhood, turned the house upside down, put me to shame...
"O dear, what am I to do?" Ivko moaned walking off.
"I beg you like this," Ivko pleaded taking off his cap and placing it before his feet on the ground.
"Don't even mention it, Ivko. Stand behind that corner over there and don't come into the yard with those words 'cause you'll be killed ...
"God, am I to get killed on my slava?" Ivko lamented at the top of his voice, involuntarily stepping back behind the corner as if behind some demarcation line.
Ivko shuddered peering from behind the corner, "and why killed?"
George!" cried out Ivko, who was listening to all this behind the corner, beating his chest, "you caused all this.
"These shoes are killing me," he added taking off his shoes and putting on Ivko's slippers.
"Ah, you stubborn oafs!" Ivko threatened again, starting off and buttoning his coat angrily when he saw how Kalca was making himself comfortable.