Everything looks good to you. Oh, how about Orff Senikov turned to his wife and said, Did you send it to him? Oh, it’s right there, you know

Tajiana irini Chinar nodded his head.
Where have you been these days? The old man said again.
be in town
Probably been playing billiards, drinking tea, playing the guitar, running around the yamen, writing in the back room with the businessman’s brother, is that right?
Even so, Mija smiled and said, Oh, I almost forgot Anton Balfitch von Zicov. Are you going to his house for dinner on Sunday?
I won’t go to this pot-bellied house to feed you fish. It’s worth 100 rubles to put oil on it, but it’s gone bad. Never ignore him.
Oh, I also met Fi Docia Mihailovna.
Which Fei Docia?
It’s the landlord Garbinchenko’s family. Garbinchenko bought the property of Mi Curino village. Fei Docia is Mi Curino village. She works as a tailor in Moscow and pays the rent on behalf of others. She pays 12 and a half rubles a year on time. There are many people looking for her to work in Moscow. But now Garbinchenko has called her back and asked her to stay here without sending her anything. She really wants to be redeemed, and she also told her master, but he doesn’t decide whether uncle, you know Garbinchenko well, and Fei Docia is willing to be redeemed at a high price.
It’s not your money, is it? Well, I’ll talk to him. Talk to him, but I don’t know. The old man said with a dissatisfied face that this Garbinchenko is a mean guy. He bought promissory notes, lent usury and bid for land. Who brought him to our place? Alas, these outsiders are really fed up. Say goodbye to him and want to get something soon, but try it.
Uncle, please help me.
Okay, I’ll help you with this, but you have to be careful. Okay, okay, don’t confess. Okay, okay, but be careful later, or you’ll be in trouble. I can’t keep you taking risks. I’m not a potential person. Okay, now you go.
Mija went to Tajiana, and irini China followed him.
Give him some tea to drink. Mrs. Orff Senikov, a kind-hearted wife, called after her, "Isn’t this stupid?" He went on to say that my heart is kind, too. I’m very worried, but I’m sorry to keep saying these little things have kept you so long.
Leading to the front door, a short man came in, with gray hair and velvet clothes
Oh, Flantz Ivanchiov, Senikov, hello. How have you been lately?
Dear read, let me introduce this gentleman to you.
Flantz Ivanchilean is my neighbor and a landlord in orel. He was born in Orleans and his parents were French. He followed Napoleon to invade Russia and acted as a drummer. Everything went well. The Frenchman also walked into Moscow with his head held high, but on his way back, poor Ryan was half frozen and didn’t end up in the hands of Smolensk crops. The farmers took him to an ice cave near the dam all night. In front of the dragon, I paid a visit to this great army French drummer, that is, he got into the ice and Mr. Ryan accepted their kindness. He begged the Smolensk cultivators to let him go back to Orleans in French. He said that I love my mother’s French there, but the cultivators may not know the location of Orleans or he swam to the bottom along the winding Gnjilotel River, and he was already gently pushing his cervical spine to give him strength. At this moment, I suddenly heard Ma Ling Ryan say that he was not happy to see an old man. The big sleigh broke the dam. The back seat of the sleigh was covered with colorful blankets, and there were three yellow-brown Viatte horses in front of it. A landlord was sitting with a fat red face and a wolf coat.
What are you doing there? He asked the cultivator.
We’re going to put the Frenchman in the river, my Lord
Oh, the landlord lightly replied and turned away.
Sir, sir, cried the poor Frenchman.
Hum, the man in the wolf skin coat speaks with a reproachful tone. Damn things invaded Russia with Napoleon’s army, burned Moscow, stole the cross of Ivan the Great’s bell tower, and now he calls Mr. Wen, and now his tail is clipped. Let’s go, Filka
The horse is walking again
Oh, but after a pause, the landlord said, Hey, does this gentleman know music?
Help me, help me, Mr. Kindness, repeated Gavin Lane
Look, none of this backward ethnic group knows Russian. Muzik Muzik Sawaimuzik Uza, hey, come on, Complan Naisawaimuzik Uza piano Ruai Sawai.
Ryan finally understood the landlord’s meaning and nodded in affirmation.
Yes, sir, yes, yes, I am a musician, and I will be a gentleman no matter what instrument. Please help me, sir.
Hey, lucky for you, the landlord replied, guys, let him go and I’ll buy you twenty kopecks of wine to drink.
Thank you, my Lord. Thank you for taking him.
When Ryan got off the sleigh, he was breathless with joy, crying, fighting and bowing to thank the landlord’s driver, the plowman. He was wearing a pink and green sweater, and it was very cold. The landlord silently looked at his limbs that were blue and stiff with cold, so he wrapped the unfortunate man in his coat and took him home. The servants rushed to warm the French fire and let him eat and get dressed. The landlord took him to his daughters.
Kids, this isn’t what he told them: you have found a teacher for you. You have been pestering me to find someone to teach you music and French. This isn’t to find a Frenchman for you. He can play the piano again. Come on, sir. He pointed to an old piano. It was five years ago. He bought it from a Jew who sold perfume. Let’s take a look at it. Play grammar.