the witch and other stories-第14部分

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nowadays　has　mastered　everything；　he　knows　what　he　ought　not　to
know；　and　what　is　the　sense　of　it？　It　makes　you　feel　pitiful　to
look　at　him。　。　。　。　He　is　a　thin；　puny　little　fellow；　like　some
Hungarian　or　Frenchman；　there　is　no　dignity　nor　air　about　him；
it's　only　in　name　he　is　a　gentleman。　There　is　no　place　for　him；
poor　dear；　and　nothing　for　him　to　do；　and　there　is　no　making　out
what　he　wants。　Either　he　sits　with　a　hook　catching　fish；　or　he
lolls　on　his　back　reading；　or　trots　about　among　the　peasants
saying　all　sorts　of　th　ings　to　them；　and　those　that　are　hungry　go
in　for　being　clerks。　So　he　spends　his　life　in　vain。　And　he　has　no
notion　of　doing　something　real　and　useful。　The　gentry　in　old　days
were　half　of　them　generals；　but　nowadays　they　are　　a　poor　lot。〃

〃They　are　badly　off　nowadays；〃　said　Meliton。

〃They　are　poorer　because　God　has　taken　away　their　strength。　You
can't　go　against　God。〃

Meliton　stared　at　a　fixed　point　again。　After　thinking　a　little　he
heaved　a　sigh　as　staid；　reasonable　people　do　sigh；　shook　his
head；　and　said：

〃And　all　because　of　what？　We　have　sinned　greatly；　we　have
forgotten　God　。　。　and　it　seems　that　the　time　has　come　for　all　to
end。　And；　after　all；　the　world　can't　last　for　ever　　it's　time
to　know　when　to　take　leave。〃

The　shepherd　sighed　and；　as　though　wishing　to　cut　short　an
unpleasant　conversation；　he　walked　away　from　the　birch…tree　and
began　silently　reckoning　over　the　cows。

〃Hey…hey…hey！〃　he　shouted。　〃Hey…hey…hey！　Bother　you；　the　plague
take　you！　The　devil　has　taken　you　into　the　thicket。　Tu…lu…lu！〃

With　an　angry　face　he　went　into　the　bushes　to　collect　his　herd。
Meliton　got　up　and　sauntered　slowly　along　the　edge　of　the　wood。
He　looked　at　the　ground　at　his　feet　and　pondered；　he　still　wanted
to　think　of　something　which　had　not　yet　been　touched　by　death。
Patches　of　light　crept　upon　the　slanting　streaks　of　rain　again；
they　danced　on　the　tops　of　the　trees　and　died　away　among　the　wet
leaves。　Damka　found　a　hedgehog　under　a　bush；　and　wanting　to
attract　her　master's　attention　to　it；　barked　and　howled。

〃Did　you　have　an　eclipse　or　not？〃　the　shepherd　called　from　the
bushes。

〃Yes；　we　had；〃　answered　Meliton。

〃Ah！　Folks　are　complaining　all　about　that　there　was　one。　It　shows
there　is　disorder　even　in　the　heavens！　It's　not　for　nothing。　。　。
。　Hey…hey…hey！　Hey！〃

Driving　his　herd　together　to　the　edge　of　the　wood；　the　shepherd
leaned　against　the　birch…tree；　looked　up　at　the　sky；　without
haste　took　his　pipe　from　his　bosom　and　began　playing。　As　before；
he　played　mechanically　and　took　no　more　than　five　or　six　notes；
as　though　the　pipe　had　come　into　his　hands　for　the　first　time；
the　sounds　floated　from　it　uncertainly；　with　no　regularity；　not
blending　into　a　tune；　but　to　Meliton；　brooding　on　the　destruction
of　the　world；　there　was　a　sound　in　it　of　something　very
depressing　and　revolting　which　he　would　much　rather　not　have
heard。　The　highest；　shrillest　notes；　which　quivered　and　broke；
seemed　to　be　weeping　disconsolately；　as　though　the　pipe　were　sick
and　frightened；　while　the　lowest　notes　for　some　reason　reminded
him　of　the　mist；　the　dejected　trees；　the　grey　sky。　Such　music
seemed　in　keeping　with　the　weather；　the　old　man　and　his　sayings。

Meliton　wanted　to　complain。　He　went　up　to　the　old　man　and；
looking　at　his　mournful；　mocking　face　and　at　the　pipe；　muttered：

〃And　life　has　grown　worse；　grandfather。　It　is　utterly　impossible
to　live。　Bad　crops；　want。　。　。　。　Cattle　plague　continually；
diseases　of　all　sorts。　。　。　。　We　are　crushed　by　poverty。〃

The　bailiff's　puffy　face　turned　crimson　and　took　a　dejected；
womanish　expression。　He　twirled　his　fingers　as　though　seeking
words　to　convey　his　vague　feeling　and　went　on：

〃Eight　children；　a　wife　。　。　。　and　my　mother　still　living；　and　my
whole　salary　ten　roubles　a　month　and　to　board　myself。　My　wife　has
become　a　Satan　from　poverty。　。　。　。　I　go　off　drinking　myself。　I　am
a　sensible；　steady　man；　I　have　education。　I　ought　to　sit　at　home
in　peace；　but　I　stray　about　all　day　with　my　gun　like　a　dog
because　it　is　more　than　I　can　stand；　my　home　is　hateful　to　me！〃

Feeling　that　his　tongue　was　uttering　something　quite　different
from　what　he　wanted　to　say；　the　bailiff　waved　his　hand　and　said
bitterly：

〃If　the　world's　going　to　end　I　wish　it　would　make　haste　about　it。
There's　no　need　to　drag　it　out　and　make　folks　miserable　for
nothing。　。　。　。〃

The　old　man　took　the　pipe　from　his　lips　and；　screwing　up　one　eye；
looked　into　its　little　opening。　His　face　was　sad　and　covered　with
thick　drops　like　tears。　He　smiled　and　said：

〃It's　a　pity；　my　friend！　My　goodness；　what　a　pity！　The　earth；　the
forest；　the　sky；　the　beasts　of　all　sorts　　all　this　has　been
created；　you　know；　adapted；　they　all　have　their　intelligence。　It
is　all　going　to　ruin。　And　most　of　all　I　am　sorry　for　people。〃

There　was　the　sound　in　the　wood　of　heavy　rain　coming　nearer。
Meliton　looked　in　the　direction　of　the　sound；　did　up　all　his
buttons；　and　said：

〃I　am　going　to　the　village。　Good…bye；　grandfather。　What　is　your
name？〃

〃Luka　the　Poor。〃

〃Well；　good…bye；　Luka！　Thank　you　for　your　good　words。　Damka；
ici！〃

After　parting　from　the　shepherd　Meliton　made　his　way　along　the
edge　of　the　wood；　and　then　down　hill　to　a　meadow　which　by　degrees
turned　into　a　marsh。　There　was　a　squelch　of　water　under　his　feet；
and　the　rusty　marsh　sedge；　still　green　and　juicy；　drooped　down　to
the　earth　as　though　afraid　of　being　trampled　underfoot。　Beyond
the　marsh；　on　the　bank　of　the　Pestchanka；　of　which　the　old　man
had　spoken；　stood　a　row　of　willows；　and　beyond　the　willows　a　barn
looked　dark　blue　in　the　mist。　One　could　feel　the　approach　of　that
miserable；　utterly　inevitable　season；　when　the　fields　grow　dark
and　the　earth　is　muddy　and　cold；　when　the　weeping　willow　seems
still　more　mournful　and　tears　trickle　down　its　stem；　and　only　the
cranes　fly　away　from　the　general　misery；　and　even　they；　as　though
afraid　of　insulting　dispirited　nature　by　the　expression　of　their
happiness；　fill　the　air　with　their　mournful；　dreary　notes。

Meliton　plodded　along　to　the　river；　and　heard　the　sounds　of　the
pipe　gradually　dying　away　behind　him。　He　still　wanted　to
complain。　He　looked　dejectedly　about　him；　and　he　felt
insufferably　sorry　for　the　sky　and　the　earth　and　the　sun　and　the
woods　and　his　Damka；　and　when　the　highest　drawn…out　note　of　the
pipe　floated　quivering　in　the　air；　like　a　voice　weeping；　he　felt
extremely　bitter　and　resentful　of　the　impropriety　in　the　conduct
of　nature。

The　high　note　quivered；　broke　off；　and　the　pipe　was　silent。


AGAFYA

DURING　my　stay　in　the　district　of　S。　I　often　used　to　go　to　see
the　watchman　Savva　Stukatch；　or　simply　Savka；　in　the　kitchen
gardens　of　Dubovo。　These　kitchen　gardens　were　my　favorite　resort
for　so…called　〃mixed〃　fishing；　when　one　goes　out　without　knowing
what　day　or　hour　one　may　return；　taking　with　one　every　sort　of
fishing　tackle　as　well　as　a　store　of　provisions。　To　tell　the
truth；　it　was　not　so　much　the　fishing　that　attracted　me　as　the
peaceful　stroll；　the　meals　at　no　set　time；　the　talk　with　Savka；
and　being　for　so　long　face　to　face　with　the　calm　summer　nights。
Savka　was　a　young　man　of　five…and…twenty；　well　grown　and
handsome；　and　as　strong　as　a　flint。　He　had　the　reputation　of
being　a　sensible　and　reasonable　fellow。　He　could　read　and　write；
and　very　rarely　drank；　but　as　a　workman　this　strong　and　healthy
young　man　was　not　worth　a　farthing。　A　sluggish；　overpowering
sloth　was　mingled　with　the　strength　in　his　muscles；　which　were
strong　as　cords。　Like　everyone　else　in　his　village；　he　lived　in
his　own　hut；　and　had　his　share　of　land；　but　neither　tilled　it　nor
sowed　it；　and　did　not　work　at　any　sort　of　trade。　His　old　mother
begged　alms　at　people's　windows　and　he　himself　lived　like　a　bird
of　the　air；　he　did　not　know　in　the　morning　what　he　would　eat　at
midday。　It　was　not　that　he　was　lacking　in　will；　or　energy；　or
feeling　for　his　mother；　it　was　simply　that　he　felt　no　inclination
for　work　and　did　not　recognize　the　advantage　of　it。　His　whole
figure　suggested　unruffled　serenity；　an　innate；　almost　artistic
passion　for　living　carelessly；　never　with　his　sleeves　tucked　up。
When　Savka's　young；　healthy　body　had　a　physical　craving　for
muscular　work；　the　young　man　abandoned　himself　completely　for　a
brief　interval　to　some　free　but　nonsensical　pursuit；　such　as
sharpening　skates　not　wanted　for　any　special　purpose；　or　racing
about　after　the　peasant　women。　His　favorite　attitude　was　one　of
concentrated　immobility。　He　was　capable　of　standing　for　hours　at
a　stretch　in　the　same　place　with　his　eyes　fixed　on　the　same　spot
without　stirring。　He　never　moved　except　on　impulse；　and　then　only
when　an　occasion　presented　itself　for　some　rapid　and　abrupt
action：　catching　a　running　dog　by　the　tail；　pulling　off　a　woman's
k　erchief；　or　jumping　over　a　big　hole。　It　need　hardly　be　said
that　with　such　parsimony　of　movement　Savka　was　as　poor　as　a　mouse
and　lived　worse　than　any　homeless　outcast。　As　time　went　on；　I
suppose　he　accumulated　arrears　of　taxes　and；　young　and　sturdy　as
he　was；　he　was　sent　by　the　commune　to　do　an　old　man's　job　　to
be　watchman　and　scarecrow　in　the　kitchen　gardens。　However　much
they　laughed　at　him　for　his　premature　senility　he　did　not　object
to　it。　This　position；　quiet　and　convenient　for　motionless
contemplation；　exactly　fitted　his　temperament。

It　happened　I　was　with　this　Savka　one　fine　May　evening。　I
remember　I　was　lying　on　a　torn　and　dirty　sackcloth　cover　close　to
the　shanty　from　which　came　a　heavy；　fragrant　scent　of　hay。
Clasping　my　hands　under　my　head　I　looked　before　me。　At　my　feet
was　lying　a　wooden　fork。　Behind　it　Savka's　dog　Kutka　stood　out
like　a　black　patch；　and　not　a　dozen　feet　from　Kutka　the　ground
ended　abruptly　in　the　steep　bank　of　the　little　river。　Lying　down
I　could　not　see　the　river；　I　could　only　see　the　tops　of　the　young
willows　growing　thickly　on　the　nearer　bank；　and　the　twisting；　as
it　were　gnawed　away；　edges　of　the　opposite　bank。　At　a　distance
beyond　the　bank　on　the　dark　hillside　the　huts　of　the　village　in
which　Savka　lived　lay　huddling　together　like　frightened　young
partridges。　Beyond　the　hill　the　afterglow　of　sunset　still
lingered　in　the　sky。　One　pale　crimson　streak　was　all　that