Denisov

“ A weal dog astwide a fence!” shouted Denísov after him (the most insulting expression a cavalryman can address to a mounted infantryman) and riding up to Rostóv, he burst out laughing.
“I’ve taken twansports from the infantwy by force!” he said. “After all, can’t let our men starve.”
The wagons that had reached the hussars had been consigned to an infantry regiment, but learning from Lavrúshka that the transport was unescorted, Denísov with his hussars had seized it by force. The soldiers had biscuits dealt out to them freely, and they even shared them with the other squadrons. ”

“ Denísov smiled, and Pétya burst into a peal of merry laughter in which Tíkhon himself joined.
"Oh, but he was a regular good-for-nothing," said Tíkhon. "The clothes on him poor stuff! How could I bring him? And so rude, your honor! Why, he says: 'I'm a general's son myself, I won't go!' he says."
"You are a bwute!" said Denisov. "I wanted to question . . ."
"But I questioned him," said Tikhon. "He said he didn't know much. 'There are a lot of us,' he says, 'but all poor stuff only soldiers in name,' he says. ”

“ The conversation turned on the contemporary gossip about those in power, in which most people see the chief interest of home politics. Denísov, dissatisfied with the government on account of his own disappointments in the service, heard with pleasure of the things done in Petersburg which seemed to him stupid, and made forcible and sharp comments on what Pierre told them. ”

“ I’ll hack you with my saber!” he shouted, actually drawing his saber from its scabbard and flourishing it.
The soldiers crowded against one another with terrified faces, and Denísov joined Nesvítski.
“How’s it you’re not drunk today?” said Nesvítski when the other had ridden up to him.
“They don’t even give one time to dwink!” answered Váska Denísov. “They keep dwagging the wegiment to and fwo all day. If they mean to fight, let’s fight. But the devil knows what this is.”
“What a dandy you are today!” said Nesvítski, looking at Denísov’s new cloak and saddlecloth. ”

“ His face, having been bathed in cold water, was all aglow, and his eyes were particularly brilliant. Cold shivers ran down his spine and his whole body pulsed rhythmically.
“Well, is ev'wything weady?” asked Denísov. “Bwing the horses.” ”

“ Tikhon with equal accuracy would split logs with blows at arm's length, or holding the head of the ax would cut thin little pegs or carve spoons. In Denísov's party he held a peculiar and exceptional position. When anything particularly difficult or nasty had to be done to push a cart out of the mud with one's shoulders, pull a horse out of a swamp by its tail, skin it, slink in among the French, or walk more than thirty miles in a day everybody pointed laughingly at Tíkhon.
"It won't hurt that devil he's as strong as a horse!" ”

“ Denísov, frowning, took the envelope and opened it.
“There, they kept telling us: ‘It’s dangerous, it’s dangerous,’” said the officer, addressing the esaul while Denísov was reading the dispatch. “But Komaróv and I”—he pointed to the Cossack—“were prepared. We have each of us two pistols.... But what’s this?” he asked, noticing the French drummer boy. “A prisoner? You’ve already been in action? May I speak to him?”
“Wostóv! Pétya!” exclaimed Denísov, having run through the dispatch. “Why didn’t you say who you were?” and turning with a smile he held out his hand to the lad. ”

“ Denisov himself intended going with the esaul and Pétya to the edge of the forest where it reached out to Shámshevo, to have a look at the part of the French bivouac they were to attack next day.
"Well, old fellow," said he to the peasant guide, "lead us to Shámshevo."
Denisov, Pétya, and the esaul, accompanied by some Cossacks and the hussar who had the prisoner, rode to the left across a ravine to the edge of the forest. ”

“ Denison explained in regard to the word 'next' that he meant 'life,' but there being a turned 'e' in 'life' he somehow deleted the entire word, and just then in his zeal, calling out 'next proof,' he unthinkingly wrote 'next' on the proof instead of 'life.' As for the matter of the boat he had no excuse to offer. The editor was not harsh, but said that a man of Denison's intelligence ought to be employed in building up Britain beyond the seas instead of reading proofs. ”

“ Still, although three-and-twenty years have passed since then, Denison often wishes he could live those seven months in Leassé over again, and let this, his latter-day respectability, go hang; because to men like him respectability means tradesmen's bills, and a deranged liver, and a feeling that he will die on a bed with his boots off, and be pawed about by shabby ghouls smelling of gin. ”

“ Denison had said nothing of this to his wife, although a horrible agitation had taken possession of him, when, upon leaving the house he had told the coachman to drive at full speed to the banking house.
The guests were all assembled. The clergyman was waiting, but still there was no sign of Mr. Denison. An uneasy whisper, an ever-increasing impatience, could be noticed. Mrs. Denison's thin face took on a feverish red. Elmore's father was just about to telephone down town, when, at last the carriage rolled up to the door. ”

“ Tikhon Ilitch shook his head. “Here’s something new! Not a mouthful of food, but you buy yourself a valise and nasty little books. Truly,’tis not for nothing that folks call you an agitator. They say you are constantly reviling the Tsar! Look out, brother!”
“Well, ’tis not so costly as buying an estate,” replied Deniska, with a melancholy grin. “They are good little books. And I haven’t touched the Tsar. They tell lies about me as if I were dead and couldn’t defend myself. ”

“ Always at midnight he rose and left. Occasionally he stopped in dark alleys and talked to frowzy, prowling girls with arrogant eyes and pathetic mouths. Once in a while he walked home with one of them. He knew no other women.
"A most loyal official," the governor-general called him in his yearly provincial report. And Serge Denikoff was loyal. There was no doubt of it. Loyal in word and deed.
But there were his thoughts.
He himself was never quite sure if he loved the Tsar, the government, the mighty in the land, or if he hated them. Power had always fascinated him. ”

“ Scrambling to his feet, dropping the rag, he raced for his tank.
A plane swooped low: a black wall of sand met Dennison and spun him around; as he fell he saw the tread of a Sherman expand like a rubber band and slice a man across his waist and chest: the man did not scream. God, Dennison groaned. Another bomb flattened Dennison: Jesus, how many did they have upstairs! The scream of steel on steel mingled with the roar of falling rocks. A bomb with a bent fin howled as it dropped.
He burrowed into sand to avoid hurling metal: he imagined Zinc, Chuck, Landel, dead. ”

“ Serge Denikoff shivered. He ran to the door and locked it. He was afraid to die. But what he feared more than death was the knowledge that today, even in his few remaining hours or minutes of life, he was a nobody, that the cataclysm of the revolution had stripped him naked of everything for which he had slaved, which he respected in himself: power, position, influence. Death was unavoidable. But he was no longer a soodya, since there was no longer a Tsar. ”

“ But perhaps the good fortune which has attended on the Denisons in their “rise and progress” to opulence and title has seldom or never been surpassed. The father of the late Mr. William Joseph Denison of Denbies, the wealthy banker, whose daughter married the late Marquis of Conyngham, the especial favourite of George IV., and whose grandson wore the coronet of Lord Londesborough, was the son of very poor parents in Leeds. ”

“ Yegorushka was exhausted by the heat and drowsiness, but he raced off after him all the same. Deniska was in his twentieth year, was a coachman and going to be married, but he had not left off being a boy. He was very fond of flying kites, chasing pigeons, playing knuckle-bones, running races, and always took part in children's games and disputes. No sooner had his master turned his back or gone to sleep than Deniska would begin doing something such as hopping on one leg or throwing stones. ”

“ A day or two afterwards, in the Mafeking demonstration, I was looking at the crowds near the Piccadilly Circus, when I heard a man say to another, “Is not that Colonel Denison?” I knew I had seen him before, and I said, “Yes, it is; do you come from Toronto?” “No,” he replied, “I am from Chelmsford, and heard [284] you speak there last week,” and he introduced me to three friends from Chelmsford. One was the Mayor, another the editor of the Essex County Chronicle. ”

“ But his jest is made earnest and changed into a sober rule of life by gentle Sybarites, who, if they have ever heard of the Englishman Edward Denison, are lost in amazement and cigarette smoke as they meditate his career. The story may be found in a tender and graphic sketch in the entertaining volume of papers by the author of the admirable History of the English People, J. R. Green. Edward Denison, born in 1840, was the son of the Bishop of Salisbury, and nephew of the Speaker, and was educated at Oxford. Then he travelled on the Continent, and studied the condition of the Swiss peasantry. ”

“ Denison is associated with Petersfield, the homely cosiness of whose interior, often seen during its occupancy by him, lighted up by a rousing hospitable fire of great logs, piled high in one of the usual capacious and lofty fire-places of the time, made an indelible impression on the boyish fancy. The venerable Mrs. Sophia Denison, too, Mr. Denison's better half, was in like manner associated in our memory with the cheery interior of the ancient Petersfield farm-house—a fine old English matron and mother, of the antique, strongly-marked, vigorous, sterling type. ”

“ Denison felt that no such men and women as appear in many of the novels of the Realistic Romances exist in Canada. In his opinion, the substance of these novels is puerile and vain invention. He, therefore, decided to present to the Canadian public real men and women as they really live, move and have their being in Canada—even if they are, as indeed they are, sordid and vulgarized men and women. Denison’s plays, then, are a Protest; they are also a Satire. What the dramatist is protesting against is not the life that he presents in his plays. ”

“ The Indiana made the low-lying atoll at last and lay-to outside. Those on board could see the trader's house close to, but instead of being surrounded by a swarm of eager and excited natives there was not one to be seen. Nor could they even see a canoe coming off. Denison pointed this out to the captain. Although of an evidently savage and morose temperament he was always pleasant enough to Denison in his capacity of supercargo, and inquired of him if he thought the trader had been killed.
“No,” Denison said, “I don't think the people here would ever kill Martin; but something is wrong. ”

“ Denison, who was still grumbling at her step-daughter’s non-appearance, would go indoors, and give her a chance of enveloping her father in a warm hug, and of snatching a stolen interview with him unknown to the ruling powers.
In a few moments, to the girl’s great delight, Mrs. Denison said, impatiently, “Well, I can’t stand here in the snow, just because your daughter chooses to insult me by absenting herself when I am expected.”
“My dear, my dear,” expostulated papa’s mild tones, “Olivia is the best creature in the world. She wouldn’t think of insulting you or anybody. ”

“ Honor knits her brows and frowns away like anything, and Miss Denison's voice is several degrees more severe than usual. Oh, I assure you we look tragic when we really are working! I should like to know, now, what use it is your going to Sandhurst," she continues severely, "when you never so much as open a book at home? Ah! you are a lazy fellow, Hugh; and I don't believe you will ever pass all your exams. If you ever do get into the army (which I very much doubt) it will be by the backdoor, I verily believe."
"Why, what do you know about the backdoor, Molly?" ”

“ Denis seemed to do so, too, for although I could not catch his low-spoken reply, I could tell by the effect it produced that it must have been affirmative.
"There was a sound of someone slapping another on the back, and then a grateful speech from Marsh that I was long to remember.
"'That's great, Denny; and just as I told you, you'll never regret it. In a sense, I'm half doing it for you. You'll be a different man when you see it. It'll put you back where you used to be—give you a waking-up and a sort of salvation—but you can't see what I mean as yet. ”

“ He was generous to a fault; a warm friend, and an ever reliable comrade.
He died March 10th, 1878, at the age of sixty-four years, leaving his widow and eight sons and one daughter. Few deaths have left so wide a gap as his, in our social circles.
Colonel George T. Denison, of Rusholme, second son of Alderman George T. Denison, sen., was born 17th of July, 1816, at Bellevue, Toronto. He was educated at Upper Canada College, and became a barrister in 1840.
He was a volunteer in Col. Fitzgibbon's rifle company, prior to the Rebellion of 1837, and attended every drill until it was disbanded. ”

“ And there was something else about the creature which I could not fail to notice—something which de Russy had not been able to put into words, but which perhaps had something to do with Denis' wish to kill all those of his blood who had dwelt under the same roof with her. Whether Marsh knew, or whether the genius in him painted it without his knowing, none could say. But Denis and his father could not have known till they saw the picture.
Surpassing all in horror was the streaming black hair, which covered the rotting body, but which was itself not even slightly decayed. ”