Since early morning the whole sky had been overhung with rain-clouds; it was still, not hot, and dreary, as it is on grey, overcast days when the clouds have long brooded over the field, you wait for the rain, and there is none. The veterinary surgeon Ivan Ivanych and the gymnasium1. a classical secondary school in Imperial Russia with a big focus on Greek and Latin as well teacher Burkin had already grown weary of walking, and the field seemed to them endless. Far ahead the windmills of the village of Mironositskoye2. etymology of the village name traced back to the Myrrh-Bearing Women — Мироносицкое = миро (myrrh) + носить (to carry) — the women who came to Christ’s tomb to anoint the body but found it empty. However, to a contemporary Russian ear that has gone through sovietisation / atheistisation, миро (myrrh) sounds like мир (peace / the world), which might make a difference for the story if we assume Chekhov meant something by choosing this name for a fictional village, or might not, and just remains a curious detail. h/t Natasha Carey were barely visible; to the right a line of hills stretched and then vanished far beyond the village, and they both knew that this was the river-bank — the meadows lay there, green willows, the estates, and that if you climbed one of the hills you could see from it the same immense field, the telegraph, and a train which from afar looked like a crawling caterpillar, and in clear weather you could even see the town from there. Now, in the still weather, when all nature seemed meek and pensive, Ivan Ivanych and Burkin were filled with love for this field, and both were thinking how great, how beautiful this country is.
— Last time, when we were in the barn at Prokofy the elder’s, — said Burkin, — you were about to tell some story.3. refers to the first story of the trilogy, “Man in a Case”. yes, apparently there’s a trilogy… It begs to be translated (one day!). UPD: interesting fact, “a case” in the original, футляр (futlyar), implies something more of a small fitted case, a hard scabbard of sorts.
— Yes, I wanted then to tell about my brother.