According to the regulations, all the Cantonists in the village had
to report daily for military drill and exercise on the drill grounds
before the house of the sergeant. He lived in the same village. At
the request of my patron Khlopov I was excused from the daily drill,
and had to report but once a week. You see, Peter expected to
derive some benefit from me by employing me about the house and in
the field.
Now it was surely through the merits of my ancestors that I happened
to be placed in the household of Peter Khlopov. Peter himself spent
but little of his time at home. Most of the time he was at the
office, and his free moments he liked to spend at the tavern, which
was owned by the only Jew in the village, "our Moshko" the Klopovs
used to call him. But whenever he happened to be at home, Peter was
very kind to me, especially when he was just a little tipsy.
Perhaps he dreamt of adopting me as his son: he had no sons of his
own. And he tried to make me like military service. "When you grow
up," he sued to say, "you will become an officer, and wear a sword.
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