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 CHAPTER XIII

MAY DAY

T was the first of May, and early in the morning Viktor Mikhaylovich Polesov hurried out of the yard to see the celebrations. At first he could not find anything to look at; there were only a few people about, and the platforms that had been erected during the night were empty and were being guarded by mounted militiamen. By nine o’clock there were various signs of a holiday. Bands began to play, women ran out into the streets from their kitchens, columns of workers marched down the streets, and a lorry gaily decorated with bunting drove towards the workmen. ‘ Hi, there ! ’ shouted the workmen to the lorry driver. ‘ What d’you think you’re doing ? Can’t you see you’re blocking the way ? ’ Viktor Mikhaylovich was in his element. ' Of course you shouldn’t be here ! ’ he shouted. ‘Can’tyouseeyou’reblockingtheway ? Youshouldturn into the side-street. Come on, this way ! This way ! It’s a positive disgrace ! They can’t even organize a holiday properly ! Come on, this way ! This way ! ’ Other lorries were loaded with children. The small­ est children were pressed against the sides of the lorries, the taller ones were behind them, and the tallest stood in the centre, so that they formed a kind of pyramid. The children were enjoying themselves thoroughly. They were waving paper flags, shouting and singing and stamping their feet. The Young Pioneers were beating their drums; their chests well forward, they were trying hard to keep in step. One of the groups mistook Viktor Mikhay­ lovich for one of their leaders and began to cheer him.

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