“Whatanicehandyouwrite!“Hehimselfcouldwriteonlyinprintingfashion,inthelargescriptorycharactersoftheEcclesiasticalRubric,notinthoseoftheordinarykind。
“Forexample,thatscoopthere——whatdoesITsay?“
“Itistheword’Good。’“
“’Good’?Butwhataslip-knotofathing!AndwhatarethosewordsTHERE,onTHATline?“
“Theysay,’Planks,1vershokby9arshini,5。’“
“No,sixwasthenumberused。“
“No,five。“
“Five?Why,thesoldierbrokeone,didn’the?“
“Yes,butnevermind——atleastitwasn’taplankthatwaswanted。“
“Oh!Well,Imaytellyouthathetookthetwopiecestothetaverntogetdrinkwith。“
Then,glancingintomyfacewithhiscornflower-blueeyesandquiet,quizzicalsmile,hewouldsaywithouttheleastconfusionashetwistedtheringletsofhisbeard:
“Putdown’6。’Andseehere,youngcockerel。Theweatherhasturnedwetandcold,andtheworkishard,andsometimesfolkneedtohavetheirspiritscheeredandraisedwithadropofliquor。Sodon’tyoubetooharduponus,forGodwon’tthinkthemoreofyouforbeingstrict。“
Andashethustalkedtomeinhisslowandkindly,butsemi-affected,fashion——bespatteringme,asitwere,withwordysawdust——Iwouldsuddenlygrowblindofaneyeandsilentlyshowhimthecorrectedfigure。
“That’sit——that’sright。Andhowfinethefigurelooksnow,asitsquatstherelikeamerchant’sbuxom,comelydame!“
Thenhewouldbeseentriumphantlytellinghismatesofhissuccess;then,IwouldfindmyselffeelingacutelyconsciousofthefactthateveryonewasdespisingmeformycomplacenceYes,grownsickbeyondendurancewithayearningforsomethingwhichitcouldnotdescry,myfifteen-year-oldheartwoulddissolveinafloodofmortifiedtears,andtherewouldpassthroughmybrainthedespondent,achingthought:
“Oh,whatasad,uncomfortableworldisthis!HowshouldOssiphaveknownsowellthatIshouldnotre-correctthe6intoa5,orthatIshouldnottellthecontractorthatthemenhavebarteredaplankforliquor?“
Again,therebefellanoccasionwhenthemenstoletwopounds’
weightoffivevershokmandrelsandbolts。
“Lookhere,“IsaidtoOssipwarningly。“Iamgoingtoreportthis。“
“Allright,“heagreedwithatwitchofhisgreyeyebrows。
“ThoughwhatsuchatriflecanmatterIfailtosee。Yes,goandreporteverymother’ssonofthem。“
Andtothementhemselvesheshouted:
“Hi,boobies!Eachofyounowstandsdockedforsomemandrelsandbolts。“
“Why?“wastheoldsoldier’sgriminquiry。
“BecauseyouDOsostand,“carelesslyretortedtheother。
Withsnarlsthereafter,themeneyedmecovertly,untilIbegantofeelthatverylikelyIshouldnotdoasIhadthreatened,andeventhatsotodomightnotbeexpedient。
“Butlookhere,“saidItoOssip。“Iamgoingtogivethecontractornotice,andletallofyougotothedevil。ForifI
weretoremainwithyoumuchlongerItooshouldbecomeathief。“
Ossipstrokedhisbeardawhile,andpondered。Thenheseatedhimselfbesideme,andsaidinanundertone:
“Thatistrue。“
“Well?“
“Butthingsarealwaysso。Thetruthisthatit’stimeyoudeparted。Whatsortofawatchman,ofachecker,areyou?Injobsofthiskindwhatamanneedstoknowisthemeaningofproperty。Heneedstohaveinhimthespiritofadog,sothatheshalllookafterhismaster’sstuffashewouldlookaftertheskinwhichhismotherhasputontohisownbody。Butyou,youyoungpuppy,haven’ttheslightestnotionofwhatpropertymeans。Infact,wereanyonetogoandtellVasiliSergeitchaboutthewayinwhichyoukeeplettingusoff,he’dgiveityouintheneck。Yes,you’renogoodtohimatall,butjustanexpense:whereaswhenamanservesamasterheought,doyouunderstand,tobePROFITABLEtothatmaster。“
Herolledandhandedmeacigarette。
“Smokethis,“saidhe,“andperhapsit’llmakeyourbrainworkeasier。Ifonlyyouhadbeenofalessawkward,uncomfortablenature,Ishouldhavesaidtoyou,’Goandjointhepriests;
but,asthingsare,youaren’ttherightsortforthat——you’retoostiffandunbending,andwouldnevermakeheadwayevenwithanabbot。No,you’renotthesorttoplaycardswith。Amonkislikeajackdaw——hechatterswithoutknowingwhatheischatteringabout,andpaysnoheedtotherootofthings,sobusyishewithstuffinghimselffullwiththegrain。Isaythistoyouwithabsoluteearnestness,forIperceiveyoutobestrangetoourways——acuckoothathasblunderedintothewrongnest。“
And,doffinghiscap,agesturewhichheneverfailedtoexecutewhenhehadsomethingparticularlyimportanttosay,headdedhumblyandsonorouslyasheglancedatthegreyfirmament:
“InthesightoftheLordourwaysarethewaysofthieves,andsuchaswillnevergainofHimsalvation。“
“Andthatistrueenough,“respondedMokeiBudirinafterthefashionofaclarionet。
Fromthattimeforth,Ossipofthecurly,silveredhead,brighteyes,andshadowysoulbecameanobjectofagreeableinterestforme。Indeed,theregrewupbetweenusaspeciesoffriendship,eventhoughIcouldseethatacivilbearingtowardsmeinpublicwasathingthatithurthimtomaintain。Atallevents,inthepresenceofothersheavoidedmyglance,andhiseyes,clear,unsullied,andfightblueintint,waveredunsteadily,andhislipstwitchedandassumedanartificiallyunpleasantexpression,whileheutteredsomesuchspeechas:
“Hi,youMakarei,seethatyoukeepyoureyesopen,andcamyourpay,orthatpigofasoldierwillbemakingawaywithmorenails!“
Butatothertimes,whenwewerealonetogether,hewouldspeaktomekindlyandinstructively,whilehiseyeswoulddanceandgleamwithafaint,grave,knowingsmile,anddartblueraysdirectintomine,whileformypart,asIlistenedtohiswords,Itookeveryoneofthemtobeabsolutelytrueandbalanced,despitetheirstrangedelivery。
“Aman’sdutyconsistsinbeinggood,“Iremarkedononeoccasion。
“Yes,ofcourse,“assentedOssip,thoughthenextmomentheveiledhiseyeswithasmile,andaddedinanundertone:
“Butwhatdoyouunderstandbytheterm’good’?Inmyopinion,unlessvirtuebetotheiradvantage,folkspituponthat’goodness,’that’honourableness,’ofyours。Hence,thebetterplanistopayfolkcourt,andbeciviltothem,andflatterandcajoleeverymother’ssonofthem。Yes,dothat,andyour’goodness’willhaveachanceofbringingyouinsomereturn。NotthatIdonotsaythattobe’good,’tobeabletolookyourownuglyjowlinthefaceinamirror,ispleasantenough;but,asIseethematter,itisallonetootherpeoplewhetheryoubeacardsharperorapriestsolongasyou’repolite,andletdownyourneighbourslightly。That’swhattheywant。“
FormypartInever,atthatperiod,grewwearyofwatchingmyfellows,foritwasmyconstantideathatsomedayoneofthemwouldbeabletoraisemetoahigherlevel,andtobringmetoanunderstandingofthisunintelligibleandcomplicatedexistenceofours。HenceIkeptaskingmyselftherestless,theimportunatequestion:
“Whatpreciselyisthehumansoul?
Certainsouls,Ithought,existedwhichseemedlikeballsofcopper,for,solidandimmovable,theyreflectedthingsfromtheirownpointofviewalone,inadullandirregularanddistortedfashion。Andsouls,Ithought,existedwhichseemedasflatasmirrors,and,forallintentsandpurposes,hadnoexistenceatall。
Andineverycasethehumansoulseemedformless,likeacloud,andasmurkilymutableasanimitationopal,athingwhichalteredaccordingtothecolourofwhatadjoinedit。
OnlyasregardedthesouloftheintelligentOssipwasI
absolutelyataloss,absolutelyunabletoreachaconclusion。
Ponderingtheseandsimilarmattersinmymind,I,onthedayofwhichIspeak,stoodgazingattheriver,andatthetownunderthehill,asIlistenedtothebells。RearingthemselvesaloftliketheorganpipesinmyfavouritePolish-RomanCatholicchurch,thesteeplesofthetownhadtheircrossesdimlysparklingasthoughthelatterhadbeenstarsimprisonedinamurkysky。Yetitwasasthoughthosestarshopedeventuallytoascendintothepurerfirmamentabovethewind-torncloudsthattheysparkled;andasIstoodwatchingthecloudsglideonward,andmomentarilyeffacewiththeirshadows,thetown’smultifarioushues,Imarkedthefactthatalthough,wheneverdark-bluecavitiesintheirsubstancepermittedthebeamsofthesuntoilluminatethebuildingsbelow,thosebuildings’roofsassumedtintsofincreasedcheerfulness。Thecloudsseemedtoglidethefastertoveilthebeams,whilethehumidshadowsgrewmoreopaque——andthescenedarkenedasthoughonlyforamomenthaditassumedasemblanceofjoy。