MATTHEWS BOWS: "Well, he's really a good fellow, one can serve under him," said Timokhin to the subaltern beside him. "In a word, a hearty one..." said the subaltern, laughing (the regimental commander was nicknamed King of Hearts). The cheerful mood of their officers after the inspection infected the soldiers. The company marched on gaily. The soldiers' voices could be heard on every side. "And they said matthews bows was blind of one eye?" "And so he is! Quite blind!" "No, friend, he is sharper-eyed than you are. Boots and leg bands... he noticed everything..." "When he looked at my feet, friend... well,MATTHEWS BOWS: thinks I..." "And that other one with him, the Austrian, looked as if he were smeared with chalk- as white as flour! I suppose they polish him up as they do the guns." "I say, Fedeshon!... Did he say when the battles are to begin? You were near him. Everybody said that Buonaparte himself was at Braunau." matthews bows himself!... Just listen to the fool, what he doesn't know! The Prussians are up in arms now. The Austrians, you see, are putting them down. When they've been put down, the war with Buonaparte will begin. And he says Buonaparte is in
MATTHEWS BOWS: Braunau! Shows you're a fool. You'd better listen more carefully!" "What devils these quartermasters are! See, the fifth company is turning into the village already... they will have their buckwheat cooked before we reach our quarters." "Give me a biscuit, you devil!" "And did you give me tobacco yesterday? That's just it, friend! Ah, well, never mind, here you are." "They might call a halt here matthews bows we'll have to do another four miles without eating." "Wasn't it fine when those Germans gave us lifts! You just sit still and are drawn along." "And here, friend, the people are quite
MATTHEWS BOWS: beggarly. There they all seemed to be Poles- all under the Russian crown- but here they're all regular Germans." "Singers to the front " came the captain's order. And from the different ranks some twenty men ran to the front. A drummer, their leader, turned round facing the singers, and flourishing his arm, began a long-drawn-out soldiers' song, commencing with the words: "Morning dawned, the sun matthews bows rising," and concluding: "On then, brothers, on to glory, led by Father Kamenski." This song had been composed in the Turkish campaign and now being sung in Austria, the only change being that
MATTHEWS BOWS: the words "Father Kamenski" were replaced by "Father Kutuzov." Having jerked out these last words as soldiers do and waved his arms as if flinging something to the ground, the drummer- a lean, handsome soldier of forty- looked sternly at the singers and screwed up his eyes. Then having satisfied himself that all eyes were fixed on him, he raised both arms as if carefully lifting some invisible but precious object above his head and, holding matthews bows there for some seconds, suddenly flung it down and began: "Oh, my bower, oh, my bower...!" "Oh, my bower new...!" chimed in twenty
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