the wife and other stories-第11部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！

r　and　I　asked　for　tea。

〃It's　hard　to　do　anything；〃　said　Sobol。　〃Your　wife　has　faith；　I　respect　her　and　have　the　greatest　reverence　for　her；　but　I　have　no　great　faith　myself。　As　long　as　our　relations　to　the　people　continue　to　have　the　character　of　ordinary　philanthropy；　as　shown　in　orphan　asylums　and　almshouses；　so　long　we　shall　only　be　shuffling；　shamming；　and　deceiving　ourselves；　and　nothing　more。　Our　relations　ought　to　be　businesslike；　founded　on　calculation；　knowledge；　and　justice。　My　Vaska　has　been　working　for　me　all　his　life；　his　crops　have　failed；　he　is　sick　and　starving。　If　I　give　him　fifteen　kopecks　a　day；　by　so　doing　I　try　to　restore　him　to　his　former　condition　as　a　workman；　that　is；　I　am　first　and　foremost　looking　after　my　own　interests；　and　yet　for　some　reason　I　call　that　fifteen　kopecks　relief；　charity；　good　works。　Now　let　us　put　it　like　this。　On　the　most　modest　computation；　reckoning　seven　kopecks　a　soul　and　five　souls　a　family；　one　needs　three　hundred　and　fifty　roubles　a　day　to　feed　a　thousand　families。　That　sum　is　fixed　by　our　practical　duty　to　a　thousand　families。　Meanwhile　we　give　not　three　hundred　and　fifty　a　day；　but　only　ten；　and　say　that　that　is　relief；　charity；　that　that　makes　your　wife　and　all　of　us　exceptionally　good　people　and　hurrah　for　our　humaneness。　That　is　it；　my　dear　soul！　Ah！　if　we　would　talk　less　of　being　humane　and　calculated　more；　reasoned；　and　took　a　conscientious　attitude　to　our　duties！　How　many　such　humane；　sensitive　people　there　are　among　us　who　tear　about　in　all　good　faith　with　subscription　lists；　but　don't　pay　their　tailors　or　their　cooks。　There　is　no　logic　in　our　life；　that's　what　it　is！　No　logic！〃

We　were　silent　for　a　while。　I　was　making　a　mental　calculation　and　said：

〃I　will　feed　a　thousand　families　for　two　hundred　days。　Come　and　see　me　tomorrow　to　talk　it　over。〃

I　was　pleased　that　this　was　said　quite　simply；　and　was　glad　that　Sobol　answered　me　still　more　simply：

〃Right。〃

We　paid　for　what　we　had　and　went　out　of　the　tavern。

〃I　like　going　on　like　this；〃　said　Sobol；　getting　into　the　sledge。　〃Eccellenza；　oblige　me　with　a　match。　I've　forgotten　mine　in　the　tavern。〃

A　quarter　of　an　hour　later　his　horses　fell　behind；　and　the　sound　of　his　bells　was　lost　in　the　roar　of　the　snow…storm。　Reaching　home；　I　walked　about　my　rooms；　trying　to　think　things　over　and　to　define　my　position　clearly　to　myself；　I　had　not　one　word；　one　phrase；　ready　for　my　wife。　My　brain　was　not　working。

But　without　thinking　of　anything；　I　went　downstairs　to　my　wife。　She　was　in　her　room；　in　the　same　pink　dressing…gown；　and　standing　in　the　same　attitude　as　though　screening　her　papers　from　me。　On　her　face　was　an　expression　of　perplexity　and　irony；　and　it　was　evident　that　having　heard　of　my　arrival；　she　had　prepared　herself　not　to　cry；　not　to　entreat　me；　not　to　defend　herself；　as　she　had　done　the　day　before；　but　to　laugh　at　me；　to　answer　me　contemptuously；　and　to　act　with　decision。　Her　face　was　saying：　〃If　that's　how　it　is；　good…bye。〃

〃Natalie；　I've　not　gone　away；〃　I　said；　〃but　it's　not　deception。　I　have　gone　out　of　my　mind；　I've　grown　old；　I'm　ill；　I've　become　a　different　man　　think　as　you　like。　。　。　。　I've　shaken　off　my　old　self　with　horror；　with　horror；　I　despise　him　and　am　ashamed　of　him；　and　the　new　man　who　has　been　in　me　since　yesterday　will　not　let　me　go　away。　Do　not　drive　me　away；　Natalie！〃

She　looked　intently　into　my　face　and　believed　me；　and　there　was　a　gleam　of　uneasiness　in　her　eyes。　Enchanted　by　her　presence；　warmed　by　the　warmth　of　her　room；　I　muttered　as　in　delirium；　holding　out　my　hands　to　her：

〃I　tell　you；　I　have　no　one　near　to　me　but　you。　I　have　never　for　one　minute　ceased　to　miss　you；　and　only　obstinate　vanity　prevented　me　from　owning　it。　The　past；　when　we　lived　as　husband　and　wife；　cannot　be　brought　back；　and　there's　no　need；　but　make　me　your　servant；　take　all　my　property；　and　give　it　away　to　any　one　you　like。　I　am　at　peace；　Natalie；　I　am　content。　。　。　。　I　am　at　peace。〃

My　wife；　looking　intently　and　with　curiosity　into　my　face；　suddenly　uttered　a　faint　cry；　burst　into　tears；　and　ran　into　the　next　room。　I　went　upstairs　to　my　own　storey。

An　hour　later　I　was　sitting　at　my　table；　writing　my　〃History　of　Railways；〃　and　the　starving　peasants　did　not　now　hinder　me　from　doing　so。　Now　I　feel　no　uneasiness。　Neither　the　scenes　of　disorder　which　I　saw　when　I　went　the　round　of　the　huts　at　Pestrovo　with　my　wife　and　Sobol　the　other　day；　nor　malignant　rumours；　nor　the　mistakes　of　the　people　around　me；　nor　old　age　close　upon　me　　nothing　disturbs　me。　Just　as　the　flying　bullets　do　not　hinder　soldiers　from　talking　of　their　own　affairs；　eating　and　cleaning　their　boots；　so　the　starving　peasants　do　not　hinder　me　from　sleeping　quietly　and　looking　after　my　personal　affairs。　In　my　house　and　far　around　it　there　is　in　full　swing　the　work　which　Dr。　Sobol　calls　〃an　orgy　of　philanthropy。〃　My　wife　often　comes　up　to　me　and　looks　about　my　rooms　uneasily；　as　though　looking　for　what　more　she　can　give　to　the　starving　peasants　〃to　justify　her　existence；〃　and　I　see　that；　thanks　to　her；　there　will　soon　be　nothing　of　our　property　left　and　we　shall　be　poor；　but　that　does　not　trouble　me；　and　I　smile　at　her　gaily。　What　will　happen　in　the　future　I　don't　know。


DIFFICULT　PEOPLE

YEVGRAF　IVANOVITCH　SHIRYAEV；　a　small　farmer；　whose　father；　a　parish　priest；　now　deceased；　had　received　a　gift　of　three　hundred　acres　of　land　from　Madame　Kuvshinnikov；　a　general's　widow；　was　standing　in　a　corner　before　a　copper　washing…stand；　washing　his　hands。　As　usual；　his　face　looked　anxious　and　ill…humoured；　and　his　beard　was　uncombed。

〃What　weather！〃　he　said。　〃It's　not　weather；　but　a　curse　laid　upon　us。　It's　raining　again！〃

He　grumbled　on；　while　his　family　sat　waiting　at　table　for　him　to　have　finished　washing　his　hands　before　beginning　dinner。　Fedosya　Semyonovna；　his　wife；　his　son　Pyotr；　a　student；　his　eldest　daughter　Varvara；　and　three　small　boys；　had　been　sitting　waiting　a　long　time。　The　boys　　Kolka；　Vanka；　and　Arhipka　　grubby；　snub…nosed　little　fellows　with　chubby　faces　and　tousled　hair　that　wanted　cutting；　moved　their　chairs　impatiently；　while　their　elders　sat　without　stirring；　and　apparently　did　not　care　whether　they　ate　their　dinner　or　waited。　。　。　。

As　though　trying　their　patience；　Shiryaev　deliberately　dried　his　hands；　deliberately　said　his　prayer；　and　sat　down　to　the　table　without　hurrying　himself。　Cabbage…soup　was　served　immediately。　The　sound　of　carpenters'　axes　（Shiryaev　was　having　a　new　barn　built）　and　the　laughter　of　Fomka；　their　labourer；　teasing　the　turkey；　floated　in　from　the　courtyard。

Big；　sparse　drops　of　rain　pattered　on　the　window。

Pyotr；　a　round…shouldered　student　in　spectacles；　kept　exchanging　glances　with　his　mother　as　he　ate　his　dinner。　Several　times　he　laid　down　his　spoon　and　cleared　his　throat；　meaning　to　begin　to　speak；　but　after　an　intent　look　at　his　father　he　fell　to　eating　again。　At　last；　when　the　porridge　had　been　served；　he　cleared　his　throat　resolutely　and　said：

〃I　ought　to　go　tonight　by　the　evening　train。　I　out　to　have　gone　before；　I　have　missed　a　fortnight　as　it　is。　The　lectures　begin　on　the　first　of　September。〃

〃Well；　go；〃　Shiryaev　assented；　〃why　are　you　lingering　on　here？　Pack　up　and　go；　and　good　luck　to　you。〃

A　minute　passed　in　silence。

〃He　must　have　money　for　the　journey；　Yevgraf　Ivanovitch；〃　the　mother　observed　in　a　low　voice。

〃Money？　To　be　sure；　you　can't　go　without　money。　Take　it　at　once；　since　you　need　it。　You　could　have　had　it　long　ago！〃

The　student　heaved　a　faint　sigh　and　looked　with　relief　at　his　mother。　Deliberately　Shiryaev　took　a　pocket…book　out　of　his　coat…pocket　and　put　on　his　spectacles。

〃How　much　do　you　want？〃　he　asked。

〃The　fare　to　Moscow　is　eleven　roubles　forty…two　kopecks。　。　。　。〃

〃Ah；　money；　money！〃　sighed　the　father。　（He　always　sighed　when　he　saw　money；　even　when　he　was　receiving　it。）　〃Here　are　twelve　roubles　for　you。　You　will　have　change　out　of　that　which　will　be　of　use　to　you　on　the　journey。〃

〃Thank　you。〃

After　waiting　a　little；　the　student　said：

〃I　did　not　get　lessons　quite　at　first　last　year。　I　don't　know　how　it　will　be　this　year；　most　likely　it　will　take　me　a　little　time　to　find　work。　I　ought　to　ask　you　for　fifteen　roubles　for　my　lodging　and　dinner。〃

Shiryaev　thought　a　little　and　heaved　a　sigh。

〃You　will　have　to　make　ten　do；〃　he　said。　〃Here；　take　it。〃

The　student　thanked　him。　He　ought　to　have　asked　him　for　something　more；　for　clothes；　for　lecture　fees；　for　books；　but　after　an　intent　look　at　his　father　he　decided　not　to　pester　him　further。

The　mother；　lacking　in　diplomacy　and　prudence；　like　all　mothers；　could　not　restrain　herself；　and　said：

〃You　ought　to　give　him　another　six　roubles；　Yevgraf　Ivanovitch；　for　a　pair　of　boots。　Why；　just　see；　how　can　he　go　to　Moscow　in　such　wrecks？〃

〃Let　him　take　my　old　ones；　they　are　still　quite　good。〃

〃He　must　have　trousers；　anyway；　he　is　a　disgrace　to　look　at。〃

And　immediately　after　that　a　storm…signal　showed　itself；　at　the　sight　of　which　all　the　family　trembled。

Shiryaev's　short；　fat　neck　turned　suddenly　red　as　a　beetroot。　The　colour　mounted　slowly　to　his　ears；　from　his　ears　to　his　temples；　and　by　degrees　suffused　his　whole　face。　Yevgraf　Ivanovitch　shifted　in　his　chair　and　u