Honest thief summary quote. "The Honest Thief" (Dostoevsky): analysis of the story. History of the name and writing of the story
Fedor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky
HONEST THIEF
From the notes of an unknown person
One morning, when I was just about to go to office, Agrafena, my cook, laundress and housekeeper, came in and, to my surprise, began to talk to me.
Until now, she had been such a silent, simple woman that, apart from the daily two words about what to prepare for dinner, she had said almost nothing at the age of six. At least I didn't hear anything more from her.
“Here I am, sir, coming to you,” she began suddenly, “you would like to rent out a closet.”
What closet?
Yes, that's what's near the kitchen. We know which one.
For what! Then, what do people let residents in? We know why.
Who will hire her?
Who will hire! The tenant will hire. We know who.
Yes, my mother, you can’t even put a bed there; it will be cramped. Who should live there?
Why live there? If only there was somewhere to sleep; and he will live on the window.
On which window?
You know which one, as if you don’t know! The one in the front. He will sit there, sew or do something. Perhaps he will sit on a chair. He has a chair; and there is a table; everything is.
Who is he?
Yes, a good, experienced person. I will cook food for him. And for the apartment, for the table, I will take only three silver rubles a month...
Finally, after much effort, I learned that some elderly man had persuaded or somehow persuaded Agrafena to let him into the kitchen, as a tenant and as a parasite. Whatever came into Agrafena’s mind had to be done; otherwise, I knew that she would not give me peace. In those cases when something was not to her liking, she immediately began to think, fell into deep melancholy, and this state lasted for two or three weeks. At this time, the food was spoiled, the linen was missing, the floors were not washed - in a word, a lot of troubles were happening. I noticed long ago that this dumb woman was not able to formulate decisions, to settle on any thought that actually belonged to her. But if in her weak brain something like an idea, an enterprise, somehow randomly took shape, then refusing to carry it out meant morally killing her for some time. And therefore, loving my own peace of mind most of all, I immediately agreed.
Does he at least have some kind of ID, a passport or something?
Why! it is known there is. A good, experienced person; He promised to give three rubles.
The next day a new tenant appeared in my modest, single apartment; but I was not annoyed, I was even happy to myself. I generally live alone, a complete recluse. I have almost no friends; I rarely go out. Having lived as a wood grouse for ten years, I, of course, got used to solitude. But ten, fifteen years, or maybe more, of the same solitude, with the same Agrafena, in the same single apartment - of course, a rather dull prospect! And therefore, an extra humble person in this order of things is a heavenly grace!
Agrafena didn’t lie: my tenant was an experienced person. According to his passport, it turned out that he was a retired soldier, which I learned without looking at the passport, at first glance at his face. It's easy to find out. Astafy Ivanovich, my lodger, was one of the good ones. We lived well. But the best thing was that Astafy Ivanovich sometimes knew how to tell stories, incidents from own life. Given the ever-present boredom of my life, such a storyteller was simply a treasure. Once he told me one of these stories. She made some impression on me. But this is the occasion on which this story took place.
One day I was left alone in the apartment: both Astafy and Agrafena went their separate ways on business. Suddenly I heard from the second room that someone came in, and it seemed to me that he was a stranger; I went out: indeed, there was a stranger standing in the hall, a small short, in one frock coat, despite the cold autumn time.
What do you want?
Official Alexandrov; lives here?
There is no such thing, brother; Goodbye.
Why did the janitor say he was here,” said the visitor, carefully retreating to the door.
Get out, get out, brother; went.
The next day after lunch, when Astafy Ivanovich was trying on a frock coat that he had altered, someone again entered the hallway. I opened the door.
Yesterday's gentleman, before my very eyes, calmly took my bekesh off the hanger, put it under his arm and started out of the apartment. Agrafena looked at him the whole time, her mouth open in surprise, and did nothing else to protect the bekeshi. Astafy Ivanovich set off after the swindler and ten minutes later returned, all out of breath, empty-handed. A man has disappeared and disappeared!
Well, bad luck, Astafy Ivanovich. It’s good that we still have the overcoat! Otherwise I would have been completely stranded, you swindler!
But Astafy Ivanovich was so amazed by all this that I even forgot about the theft, looking at him. He couldn't come to his senses. Every minute he abandoned the work he was busy with, every minute he began to tell the story again, how it all happened, how he stood, how in front of his eyes, two steps away, the cover was removed and how it all worked out, that it was impossible to catch him. Then he sat down to work again; then he dropped everything again, and I saw how he finally went to the janitor to tell and reproach him for allowing such things to happen in his yard. Then he returned and began to scold Agrafena. Then he sat down to work again and muttered to himself for a long time about how this whole thing happened, how he stood here, and I there, and how in his eyes, two steps away, the bekesh was removed, etc. In a word, Astafy Ivanovich , although he knew how to do the job, he was still a big troublemaker and troublemaker.
You and I have been fooled, Astafy Ivanovich! - I told him in the evening, handing him a glass of tea and wanting, out of boredom, to again evoke the story about the missing bekesha, which, from frequent repetition and from the deep sincerity of the narrator, was beginning to become very comical.
Fooled, sir! Yes, it’s just annoying, evil creeps in, even though it’s not my clothes that are missing. And in my opinion, there is no reptile worse than a thief in the world. Some people even take it for free, but this work of yours, the sweat shed for it, steals your time... Disgusting, ugh! I don’t want to talk, I feel bad. How is it that you, sir, don’t feel sorry for your goods?
Yes, it’s true, Astafy Ivanovich; It’s better to burn the thing, but it’s annoying to give in to a thief, I don’t want to.
Yes, what do you want here! Of course, a thief is a thief... And there was, sir, one case with me where I fell into the hands of an honest thief.
How honest! What kind of an honest thief is this, Astafy Ivanovich?
It is true, sir! What an honest thief, there is no such thing. I just wanted to say that he seemed to be an honest man, but he stole. I just felt sorry for him.
How was it, Astafy Ivanovich?
Yes, sir, it was two years ago. Then I had to be without a place for almost a year, and when I was still living in place, one person who was completely lost became friends with me. So, they met in a tavern. Such a drunkard, a slut, a parasite, he used to serve somewhere, but for his drunken life he was kicked out of the service a long time ago. So unworthy! He wore God knows what! Sometimes you wonder if he has a shirt under his overcoat; everything that starts up will be drunk. Don't be a brawler; He is humble in character, so affectionate, kind, and does not ask, everything is ashamed: well, you yourself see that the poor fellow wants to drink, and you offer it. Well, that’s how I got along with him, that is, he became attached to me... I don’t care. And what a man he was! As soon as the little dog gets attached, you go there - and he follows you; but we only saw each other once, such a brainiac! First, let him spend the night - well, he did; I see, and the passport is in order, man, nothing! Then, the next day, let him spend the night too, and then on the third he came and sat on the window all day; also stayed overnight. Well, I think he imposed himself on me: give him food and drink, and even let him spend the night - that’s a poor man, and even a parasite sits on his neck. And before, just like me, he used to go after one of the employees, became attached to him, and they all drank together; Yes, he drank himself and died from some kind of grief. And this one was called Emelei, Emelyan Ilyich. I think, I think: how should I deal with him? to drive him away is shameful, pathetic: such a pathetic, lost man, like God! And he’s so dumb, he doesn’t ask, he sits there, just looking into your eyes like a little dog. That is, this is how drunkenness ruins a person! I think to myself: how will I tell him: get out, Emelyanushka; you have nothing to do with me; got to the wrong place; I myself will soon have nothing to eat, so how can I keep you on my grub? I’m sitting there thinking, what will he do, how can I tell him this? Well, I see to myself how long he would look at me when he heard me speak, how long he would sit and not understand a word, how later, when he came home, he would get up from the window and take his bundle , as I see now, checkered, red, full of holes, in which God knows what he wrapped and carried with him everywhere, as if he had straightened his overcoat, so that it was decent, and warm, and there would be no holes to be seen - it was delicate Human! as if he then opened the door and went out onto the stairs with a tear. Well, it’s a pity for a person not to disappear completely... it’s a pity! And then, I think, what it’s like for me! Wait, I think to myself, Emelyanushka, you won’t be feasting with me for long; I'll go soon, then you won't find it. Well, sir, we moved out; then Alexander Filimonovich, the master (now deceased, may he rest in heaven), they said: I am very pleased with you, Astafy, we will all return from the village, we will not forget you, we will take you again. And I lived with them as a butler - he was a kind master, but he died that same year. Well, as we saw them off, I took my property, there was some money, I think I’ll rest for myself, and I moved in with an old lady and took a corner from her. And she only had one free corner. She was also a nanny somewhere, so now she lived specially and received boarding school. Well, I think, goodbye now, Emelyanushka, dear man, you won’t find me! Well, sir, what do you think? I returned in the evening (I went to see a person I knew) and the first I saw was Emelya, sitting on my chest, and a checkered bundle next to him, sitting in an overcoat, waiting for me... and out of boredom, he also took the church book from the old woman and held it upside down. I found it! And my hands dropped. Well, I think there’s nothing to do, why didn’t I drive at first? Yes, I ask directly: “Did you bring your passport, Emelya?”
Fedor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky
HONEST THIEF
From the notes of an unknown person
One morning, when I was just about to go to office, Agrafena, my cook, laundress and housekeeper, came in and, to my surprise, began to talk to me.
Until now, she had been such a silent, simple woman that, apart from the daily two words about what to prepare for dinner, she had said almost nothing at the age of six. At least I didn't hear anything more from her.
“Here I am, sir, coming to you,” she began suddenly, “you would like to rent out a closet.”
What closet?
Yes, that's what's near the kitchen. We know which one.
For what! Then, what do people let residents in? We know why.
Who will hire her?
Who will hire! The tenant will hire. We know who.
Yes, my mother, you can’t even put a bed there; it will be cramped. Who should live there?
Why live there? If only there was somewhere to sleep; and he will live on the window.
On which window?
You know which one, as if you don’t know! The one in the front. He will sit there, sew or do something. Perhaps he will sit on a chair. He has a chair; and there is a table; everything is.
Who is he?
Yes, a good, experienced person. I will cook food for him. And for the apartment, for the table, I will take only three silver rubles a month...
Finally, after much effort, I learned that some elderly man had persuaded or somehow persuaded Agrafena to let him into the kitchen, as a tenant and as a parasite. Whatever came into Agrafena’s mind had to be done; otherwise, I knew that she would not give me peace. In those cases when something was not to her liking, she immediately began to think, fell into deep melancholy, and this state lasted for two or three weeks. At this time, the food was spoiled, the linen was missing, the floors were not washed - in a word, a lot of troubles were happening. I noticed long ago that this dumb woman was not able to formulate decisions, to settle on any thought that actually belonged to her. But if in her weak brain something like an idea, an enterprise, somehow randomly took shape, then refusing to carry it out meant morally killing her for some time. And therefore, loving my own peace of mind most of all, I immediately agreed.
Does he at least have some kind of ID, a passport or something?
Why! it is known there is. A good, experienced person; He promised to give three rubles.
The next day a new tenant appeared in my modest, single apartment; but I was not annoyed, I was even happy to myself. I generally live alone, a complete recluse. I have almost no friends; I rarely go out. Having lived as a wood grouse for ten years, I, of course, got used to solitude. But ten, fifteen years, or maybe more, of the same solitude, with the same Agrafena, in the same single apartment - of course, a rather dull prospect! And therefore, an extra humble person in this order of things is a heavenly grace!
Agrafena didn’t lie: my tenant was an experienced person. According to his passport, it turned out that he was a retired soldier, which I learned without looking at the passport, at first glance at his face. It's easy to find out. Astafy Ivanovich, my lodger, was one of the good ones. We lived well. But the best thing was that Astafy Ivanovich sometimes knew how to tell stories, incidents from his own life. Given the ever-present boredom of my life, such a storyteller was simply a treasure. Once he told me one of these stories. She made some impression on me. But this is the occasion on which this story took place.
One day I was left alone in the apartment: both Astafy and Agrafena went their separate ways on business. Suddenly I heard from the second room that someone came in, and it seemed to me that he was a stranger; I went out: indeed, there was a stranger standing in the hallway, a small fellow, wearing only a frock coat, despite the cold autumn time.
What do you want?
Official Alexandrov; lives here?
There is no such thing, brother; Goodbye.
Why did the janitor say he was here,” said the visitor, carefully retreating to the door.
Get out, get out, brother; went.
The next day after lunch, when Astafy Ivanovich was trying on a frock coat that he had altered, someone again entered the hallway. I opened the door.
Yesterday's gentleman, before my very eyes, calmly took my bekesh off the hanger, put it under his arm and started out of the apartment. Agrafena looked at him the whole time, her mouth open in surprise, and did nothing else to protect the bekeshi. Astafy Ivanovich set off after the swindler and ten minutes later returned, all out of breath, empty-handed. A man has disappeared and disappeared!
"Stories from an Experienced Man"- a cycle conceived by Dostoevsky in the 2nd half of 1847-1848. Commentators suggest that the cycle should have included three stories - "Retired", "Honest Thief", of which the first and third were actually written, the white autograph of the beginning has been preserved from the second (perhaps the story was not completed), subsequently “Retired” in a greatly abbreviated form became part of “The Honest Thief”, and Dostoevsky did not return to the concept of “Brownie” . The system of subtitles, characteristic of Dostoevsky’s creative style, allows us to judge the place of “Stories of an Experienced Man” in the early work of the writer. Obviously, this was a branch of a broader plan - “From the notes of an unknown person”, “Stories of an experienced person”).
Other early works of Dostoevsky also gravitate towards this idea. Certain plot moves of “Christmas Trees and Weddings” are repeated in, there are echoes in the text of “Stories of an Experienced Man” with, the image of the main character is close to the “unknown” type, etc. All this confirms the aspiring writer’s desire to capture reality in a novel. The world of the early works is built with a clear focus on Balzac’s “Human Comedy”. The tendency towards “inclusiveness” is characteristic of all stages of Dostoevsky’s work. At the same time, these quests fully corresponded to the “spirit and letter” of the “natural school”, the most important artistic task of which was to describe all the “cells” of the “social organism”. Most accurately the aesthetics of the “natural school” corresponds to “Retired,” written “according to all the rules” of “physiology”: a “generalizing” story about the “type” and concretization of general observations using the example of a specific “representative of the type.” “Retired”, “experienced man” Astafy Ivanovich tells exclusively “unprecedented things”, be it the story of Figner, a brownie or an honest thief. His stories are reminiscent of “Munchausen texts” - with a mandatory focus on the absolute authenticity of the narrative. In the combination of such a contradiction (the hero who has seen a lot tells “legends” and “fables”) one can discern an important feature of Dostoevsky’s aesthetics - the desire to see the fantasy of everyday life.
"Retired"— the first part of the series “Stories of an Experienced Man.” As an independent work, the story was published only once in. Subsequently, it was greatly shortened and included in the story “The Honest Thief.” Initially, the “retired” man’s story included several legends (historical legends): about A.S. Figner, who mercilessly dealt with captured Frenchmen, a scout of the “new era”, who spoke “all human languages”, who even knew Napoleon’s dreams and played cards with him; about the horse - the predictor of a soldier's fate; about Bonaparte, who did not agree to convert to the Russian faith. V.A. Mikhnyukevich notes that this whole “folklore frame” is not organic to the plot, and the narrator’s “repertoire” seems random, which was the reason for removing this part of the text from the final version ( Mikhnyukevich V.A. Russian folklore in the artistic system of F.M. Dostoevsky. Chelyabinsk, 1994. P. 42). PSS commentators note that the “reduction” of the story was carried out following the critical analysis of P.V. Annenkov, who noted that this is a “completely insignificant” plot.
"Honest Thief"- In 1848, the stories “Retired” and “Honest Thief” under the general title “Stories of an Experienced Man. (From the notes of an unknown person)." In 1860, Dostoevsky, taking into account criticism, combined these two stories into one “Honest Thief. (From the notes of an unknown person)” due to the removal of most of the story “Retired”, as well as the edifying conclusion of “The Honest Thief”. N.M. Perlina points out that the name "Honest Thief" comes from the vaudeville act of D.T. Lensky (not related to the story in content). She also names a number of real events in Dostoevsky’s life that served as the basis for the story, and points out the connection between the story and the aesthetics of the natural school.
V.B. Shklovsky noted the oxymoronic nature of the story’s title: “The title of one of F. Dostoevsky’s stories “Honest Thief” is an undoubted oxymoron, but the content of this story is the same oxymoron, developed into a plot” ( Shklovsky V.B. About the theory of prose. M., 1925. P. 171).
The theme of confessing theft will later appear in the preparatory materials for The Idiot. The image of Emelyan Ivanovich was outlined in “Poor People”. The situation of the appearance of a thief, stealing things in front of the owner and cook, goes back to a collective work (see: Feuilletons of the forties: Magazine and newspaper prose of I.A. Goncharov, F.M. Dostoevsky, I.S. Turgenev. M., L ., 1930. pp. 366-367).
“The Honest Thief” differs from other stories in the cycle primarily in the active role of the narrator, who turns out to be not only a “witness” of events, but also a direct participant in them: the fate of the hero of the story depends on him. The story is clearly oriented towards a parable. The main motives are associated with the image of Emelya - absolute homelessness and disorder in the world; naivety and childish openness, close to foolishness; repentance for the sin committed. These motives are correlated with the narrator’s secret dreams - about re-education, guiding others on the right path. Hopes to “bring some sense” to the “drunkard” Emelya are not justified; good intentions lead nowhere. The original “moralizing” ending of the story called for seeing “God’s” in a godless person. Let us note that in the later shortened ending, for the first time in Dostoevsky’s work, Christ is mentioned in the context of the theme of “the restoration of man” (“And you, sir, do not disdain fallen man: Christ, who loved us all more than himself, did not order this!”<...>Otherwise, Christ would not have come to us, if we were destined to remain vicious from century to century from original sin.” Later, the theme of the justification of the “rubbish” and “bestial” will unfold in the picture of Judgment Day, which concludes Marmeladov’s confession.
I.A. Avramets notes that “The Honest Thief” is characterized by an ambivalent attitude towards the natural school: on the one hand, the principles of this direction are obvious in the story, on the other, they are taken to such an extreme that the story turns into a parody of the direction of the natural school. The persistent repetition of the word “overcoat” (12 times) with indications of its dilapidation refers to Gogol’s “The Overcoat”.
IN " Honest thief“several of the most important themes of Dostoevsky’s entire work are developed: the feeling of guilt as a criterion of humanity (its necessity for preserving the personality from destruction) and the desire for “benevolence” as a manifestation of the “will to power.”
Zagidullina M.V. Stories from an experienced person. Retired, Honest Thief // Dostoevsky: Works, letters, documents: Dictionary-reference book. St. Petersburg, 2008. pp. 161—162, 132, 189.
Lifetime publications (editions):
1848 - SPb.: Type. Iv. Glazunov and Comp., 1848. Year ten. T. LVII. April. Stories from an experienced person (From the notes of an unknown person.) I. Retired. II. Honest thief. pp. 286-306.
1860 — Ed. ON THE. Osnovsky. M.: Type. Lazarevsky Institute of Oriental Languages, 1860. T. I. S. 415-435.
1865 — Newly reviewed and expanded edition by the author himself. Publication and property of F. Stellovsky. SPb.: Type. F. Stellovsky, 1865. T. I. S. 268-274.
1865 — F.M. Dostoevsky. Revisited edition. Publication and property of F. Stellovsky. SPb.: Type. F. Stellovsky, 1865. 24 p.
“One morning, when I was just getting ready to go to office, Agrafena, my cook, laundress and housekeeper, came in and, to my surprise, began a conversation with me. Until now, she had been such a silent, simple woman that, apart from the daily two words about what to prepare for dinner, she had said almost nothing at the age of six. At least I didn’t hear anything more from her..."
One morning, when I was just about to go to office, Agrafena, my cook, laundress and housekeeper, came in and, to my surprise, began to talk to me.
Until now, she had been such a silent, simple woman that, apart from the daily two words about what to prepare for dinner, she had said almost nothing at the age of six. At least I didn't hear anything more from her.
“Here I am, sir, coming to you,” she began suddenly, “you would like to rent out a closet.”
- Yes, that’s what’s near the kitchen. We know which one.
- For what! Then, what do people let residents in? We know why.
- Who will hire her?
- Who will hire! The tenant will hire. We know who.
“But there, my mother, you can’t even put a bed there; it will be cramped. Who should live there?
- Why live there! If only there was somewhere to sleep; and he will live on the window.
– You know which one, as if you don’t know! The one in the front. He will sit there, sew or do something. Perhaps he will sit on a chair. He has a chair; and there is a table; everything is.
- Yes, he’s a good, experienced person. I will cook food for him. And for the apartment, for the table, I will take only three silver rubles a month...
Finally, after much effort, I learned that some elderly man had persuaded or somehow persuaded Agrafena to let him into the kitchen, as a tenant and as a parasite. Whatever came into Agrafena’s mind had to be done; otherwise, I knew that she would not give me peace. In those cases when something was not to her liking, she immediately began to think, fell into deep melancholy, and this state lasted for two or three weeks. At this time, the food was spoiled, the linen was missing, the floors were not washed - in a word, a lot of troubles were happening. I noticed long ago that this dumb woman was not able to formulate decisions, to settle on any thought that actually belonged to her. But if in her weak brain something like an idea, an enterprise, somehow randomly took shape, then refusing to carry it out meant morally killing her for some time. And therefore, loving my own peace of mind most of all, I immediately agreed.
– Does he at least have some kind of identity, a passport or something?
- Of course! it is known there is. A good, experienced person; He promised to give three rubles.
The next day a new tenant appeared in my modest, single apartment; but I was not annoyed, I was even happy to myself. I generally live alone, a complete recluse. I have almost no friends; I rarely go out. Having lived as a wood grouse for ten years, I, of course, got used to solitude. But ten, fifteen years, or maybe more, of the same solitude, with the same Agrafena, in the same single apartment - of course, a rather dull prospect! And therefore, an extra humble person in this order of things is a heavenly grace!
Agrafena didn’t lie: my tenant was an experienced person. According to his passport, it turned out that he was a retired soldier, which I found out without looking at the passport, at first glance, by his face. It's easy to find out. Astafy Ivanovich, my lodger, was one of the good ones. We lived well. But the best thing was that Astafy Ivanovich sometimes knew how to tell stories, incidents from his own life. Given the ever-present boredom of my life, such a storyteller was simply a treasure. Once he told me one of these stories. She made some impression on me. But this is the occasion on which this story took place.
One day I was left alone in the apartment: both Astafy and Agrafena went their separate ways on business. Suddenly I heard from the second room that someone came in, and it seemed to me that he was a stranger; I went out: indeed, there was a stranger standing in the hallway, a small fellow, wearing only a frock coat, despite the cold autumn time.
- Official Alexandrov; lives here?
- There is no such thing, brother; Goodbye.
“The janitor said he was here,” said the visitor, carefully retreating to the door.
- Get out, get out, brother; went.
The next day after lunch, when Astafy Ivanovich was trying on a frock coat that he had altered, someone again entered the hallway. I opened the door.
Yesterday's gentleman, before my very eyes, calmly took my bekesh off the hanger, put it under his arm and started out of the apartment. Agrafena looked at him the whole time, her mouth open in surprise, and did nothing else to protect the bekeshi. Astafy Ivanovich set off after the swindler and ten minutes later returned, all out of breath, empty-handed. A man has disappeared and disappeared!
- Well, bad luck, Astafy Ivanovich. It’s good that we still have the overcoat! Otherwise I would have been completely stranded, you swindler!
But Astafy Ivanovich was so amazed by all this that I even forgot about the theft, looking at him. He couldn't come to his senses. Every minute he abandoned the work he was busy with, every minute he began to tell the story again, how it all happened, how he stood, how in front of his eyes, two steps away, the cover was removed and how it all worked out, that it was impossible to catch him. Then he sat down to work again; then he dropped everything again, and I saw how he finally went to the janitor to tell and reproach him for allowing such things to happen in his yard. Then he returned and began to scold Agrafena. Then he sat down to work again and muttered to himself for a long time about how this whole thing happened, how he stood here, and I there, and how in his eyes, two steps away, the bekesh was removed, etc. In a word, Astafy Ivanovich although he knew how to get the job done, he was still a big troublemaker and troublemaker.
- You and I were fooled, Astafy Ivanovich! - I told him in the evening, handing him a glass of tea and wanting, out of boredom, to again evoke the story about the missing bekesha, which, from frequent repetition and from the deep sincerity of the narrator, was beginning to become very comical.
- Fooled, sir! Yes, it’s just annoying, evil creeps in, even though it’s not my clothes that are missing. And, in my opinion, there is no reptile worse than a thief in the world. Some people even take it for free, but this work of yours, the sweat shed for it, steals your time... Disgusting, ugh! I don’t want to talk, I feel bad. How is it that you, sir, don’t feel sorry for your goods?
– Yes, it’s true, Astafy Ivanovich; It’s better to burn the thing, but it’s annoying to give in to a thief, I don’t want to.
- Yes, what do you want here! Of course, a thief is a thief... And there was, sir, one case with me where I fell into the hands of an honest thief.
- How honest! What kind of an honest thief is this, Astafy Ivanovich?
- It is true, sir! What an honest thief, there is no such thing. I just wanted to say that he seemed to be an honest man, but he stole. I just felt sorry for him.
- How was it, Astafy Ivanovich?
- Yes, sir, two years ago. Then I had to be without a place for almost a year, and when I was still living in place, one person who was completely lost became friends with me. So, they met in a tavern. Such a drunkard, a slut, a parasite, he used to serve somewhere, but for his drunken life he was kicked out of the service a long time ago. So unworthy! He wore God knows what! Sometimes you wonder if he has a shirt under his overcoat; everything that starts up will be drunk. Don't be a brawler; He is humble in character, so affectionate, kind, and does not ask, everything is ashamed: well, you yourself see that the poor fellow wants to drink, and you offer it. Well, that’s how I got along with him, that is, he became attached to me... I don’t care. And what a man he was! As soon as the little dog gets attached, you go there and he follows you; but we only saw each other once, such a brainiac! First, let him spend the night - well, he did; I see, and the passport is in order, man, nothing! Then, the next day, let him spend the night too, and then on the third he came and sat on the window all day; also stayed overnight. Well, I think he imposed himself on me: give him water and food, and even let him spend the night - that’s a poor man, and even a parasite sits on his neck. And before, just like me, he used to go after one of the employees, became attached to him, and they all drank together; Yes, he drank himself and died from some kind of grief. And this one was called Emelei, Emelyan Ilyich. I think, I think: how should I deal with him? to drive him away is shameful, pathetic: such a pitiful, lost man that God! And he’s so dumb, he doesn’t ask, he sits there, just looking into your eyes like a little dog. That is, this is how drunkenness ruins a person! I think to myself: how will I tell him; Go away, Emelyanushka; you have nothing to do with me; got to the wrong place; I myself will soon have nothing to eat, so how can I keep you on my grub? I’m sitting there thinking, what will he do, how can I tell him this? Well, I see to myself how long he would look at me when he heard me speak, how long he would sit and not understand a word, how later, when he came home, he would get up from the window and take his bundle , as I see now, checkered, red, full of holes, in which God knows what he wrapped and carried with him everywhere, as if he had straightened his overcoat, so that it was decent, and warm, and there would be no holes to be seen - it was delicate Human! as if he then opened the door and went out onto the stairs with a tear. Well, it’s a pity for a person not to disappear completely... it’s a pity! And then, I think, what it’s like for me! Wait, I think to myself, Emelyanushka, you won’t be feasting with me for long; I'll go soon, then you won't find it. Well, sir, we moved out; then Alexander Filimonovich, the master (now deceased, may he rest in heaven), they said: I am very pleased with you, Astafy, we will all return from the village, we will not forget you, we will take you again. And I lived with them as a butler - he was a kind master, but he died that same year. Well, as we saw them off, I took my property, there was some money, I think I’ll rest for myself, and I moved in with an old lady and took a corner from her. And she only had one free corner. She was also a nanny somewhere, so now she lived especially and received a pension. Well, I think, goodbye now, Emelyanushka, dear man, you won’t find me! Well, sir, what do you think? I returned in the evening (I went to see a person I knew) and the first I saw was Emelya, sitting on my chest, and a checkered bundle next to him, sitting in an overcoat, waiting for me... and out of boredom, he also took the church book from the old woman and held it upside down. I found it! And my hands dropped. Well, I think there’s nothing to do, why didn’t I drive at first? Yes, I ask directly: “Did you bring your passport, Emelya?”
End of introductory fragment.
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(From the notes of an unknown person)
One morning, when I was just about to go to office, Agrafena, my cook, laundress and housekeeper, came in and, to my surprise, began to talk to me. Until now, she had been such a silent, simple woman that, apart from the daily two words about what to prepare for dinner, she had said almost nothing at the age of six. At least I didn't hear anything more from her. “Here I am, sir, coming to you,” she began suddenly, “would you rent a closet.” What closet? Yes, that’s what’s near the kitchen. We know which one. Why? Why! Then, what do people let residents in? We know why. Who will hire her? Who will hire! The tenant will hire. We know who. Yes, my mother, you can’t even put a bed there; it will be cramped. Who should live there? Why live there! If only there was somewhere to sleep; and he will live on the window. On which window? It’s known which one, as if you don’t know! The one in the front. He will sit there, sew or do something. Perhaps he will sit on a chair. He has a chair; and there is a table; everything is. Who is he? Yes, a good, experienced person. I will cook food for him. And for the apartment, for the table, I will take only three silver rubles a month... Finally, after much effort, I learned that some elderly man had persuaded or somehow persuaded Agrafena to let him into the kitchen, as a tenant and as a parasite. Whatever came into Agrafena’s mind had to be done; otherwise, I knew that she would not give me peace. In those cases when something was not to her liking, she immediately began to think, fell into deep melancholy, and this state lasted for two or three weeks. At this time, the food was spoiled, the linen was missing, the floors were not washed, in a word, a lot of troubles were happening. I noticed long ago that this dumb woman was not able to formulate decisions, to settle on any thought that actually belonged to her. But if in her weak brain something like an idea, an enterprise, somehow randomly took shape, then refusing to carry it out meant morally killing her for some time. And therefore, loving my own peace of mind most of all, I immediately agreed. Does he at least have some kind of ID, a passport or something? Of course! it is known there is. A good, experienced person; He promised to give three rubles. The next day a new tenant appeared in my modest, single apartment; but I was not annoyed, I was even happy to myself. I generally live alone, a complete recluse. I have almost no friends; I rarely go out. Having lived as a wood grouse for ten years, I, of course, got used to solitude. But ten, fifteen years, or maybe more, of the same solitude, with the same Agrafena, in the same single apartment - of course, a rather colorless prospect! And therefore, an extra humble person in this order of things is heavenly grace! Agrafena didn’t lie: my tenant was an experienced person. According to his passport, it turned out that he was a retired soldier, which I found out without looking at the passport, at first glance, by his face. It's easy to find out. Astafy Ivanovich, my lodger, was one of the good ones. We lived well. But the best thing was that Astafy Ivanovich sometimes knew how to tell stories, incidents from his own life. Given the ever-present boredom of my life, such a storyteller was simply a treasure. Once he told me one of these stories. She made some impression on me. But this is the occasion on which this story took place. One day I was left alone in the apartment: both Astafy and Agrafena went their separate ways on business. Suddenly I heard from the second room that someone came in, and it seemed to me that he was a stranger; I went out: indeed, there was a stranger standing in the hallway, a small fellow, wearing only a frock coat, despite the cold autumn time. What do you want? Official Alexandrov; lives here? There is no such thing, brother; Goodbye. “Why did the janitor say it’s here,” said the visitor, carefully retreating to the doors. Get out, get out, brother; went. The next day after lunch, when Astafy Ivanovich was trying on a frock coat that he had altered, someone again entered the hallway. I opened the door. Yesterday's gentleman, before my very eyes, calmly took my bekesh off the hanger, put it under his arm and started out of the apartment. Agrafena looked at him the whole time, her mouth open in surprise, and did nothing else to protect the bekeshi. Astafy Ivanovich set off after the swindler and ten minutes later returned, all out of breath, empty-handed. A man has disappeared and disappeared! Well, bad luck, Astafy Ivanovich. It’s good that we still have the overcoat! Otherwise I would have been completely stranded, you swindler! But Astafy Ivanovich was so amazed by all this that I even forgot about the theft, looking at him. He couldn't come to his senses. Every minute he abandoned the work he was busy with, every minute he began to tell the story again, how it all happened, how he stood, how in front of his eyes, two steps away, the cover was removed and how it all worked out, that it was impossible to catch him. Then he sat down to work again; then he dropped everything again, and I saw how he finally went to the janitor to tell and reproach him for allowing such things to happen in his yard. Then he returned and began to scold Agrafena. Then he sat down to work again and muttered to himself for a long time about how this whole thing happened, how he stood here, and I there, and how in his eyes, two steps away, the bekesh was removed, etc. In a word, Astafy Ivanovich although he knew how to get the job done, he was still a big troublemaker and troublemaker. You and I were fooled, Astafy Ivanovich! “I told him in the evening, handing him a glass of tea and wanting, out of boredom, to again evoke the story about the missing bekesha, which, from frequent repetition and from the deep sincerity of the narrator, was beginning to become very comical. Fooled, sir! Yes, it’s just annoying, evil creeps in, even though it’s not my clothes that are missing. And, in my opinion, there is no reptile worse than a thief in the world. Some people even take it for free, but this work of yours, the sweat shed for it, steals your time... Disgusting, ugh! I don’t want to talk, I feel bad. How is it that you, sir, don’t feel sorry for your goods? Yes, it’s true, Astafy Ivanovich; It’s better to burn the thing, but it’s annoying to give in to a thief, I don’t want to. Yes, what do you want here! Of course, a thief is a thief... And there was, sir, one case with me where I ended up with an honest thief. How honest! What kind of an honest thief is this, Astafy Ivanovich? It is true, sir! What an honest thief, there is no such thing. I just wanted to say that he seemed to be an honest man, but he stole. I just felt sorry for him. How was it, Astafy Ivanovich? Yes, sir, it was two years ago. Then I had to be without a place for almost a year, and when I was still living in place, one person who was completely lost became friends with me. So, they met in a tavern. Such a drunkard, a slut, a parasite, he used to serve somewhere, but for his drunken life he was kicked out of the service a long time ago. So unworthy! He wore God knows what! Sometimes you wonder if he has a shirt under his overcoat; everything that starts up will be drunk. Don't be a brawler; He is humble in character, so affectionate, kind, and does not ask, everything is ashamed: well, you yourself see that the poor fellow wants to drink, and you offer it. Well, that’s how I got along with him, that is, he became attached to me... I don’t care. And what a man he was! As soon as the little dog gets attached, you go there and he follows you; but we only saw each other once, such a brainiac! First, let him spend the night - well, he did; I see, and the passport is in order, man, nothing! Then, the next day, let him spend the night too, and then on the third he came and sat on the window all day; also stayed overnight. Well, I think he imposed himself on me: give him food and drink, and even let him spend the night, here’s a poor man, and even a parasite sits on his neck. And before, just like me, he used to go after one of the employees, became attached to him, and they all drank together; Yes, he drank himself and died from some kind of grief. And this one was called Emelei, Emelyan Ilyich. I think, I think: how should I deal with him? to drive him away is shameful, pathetic: such a pathetic, lost person, like God! And he’s so dumb, he doesn’t ask, he sits there, just looking into your eyes like a little dog. That is, this is how drunkenness ruins a person! I think to myself: how will I tell him: get out, Emelyanushka; you have nothing to do with me; got to the wrong place; I myself will soon have nothing to eat, so how can I keep you on my grub? I’m sitting there thinking, what will he do, how can I tell him this? Well, I see to myself how long he would look at me when he heard me speak, how long he would sit and not understand a word, how later, when he came home, he would get up from the window and take his bundle , as I see now, checkered, red, full of holes, in which God knows what he wrapped and carried with him everywhere, as if he had straightened his overcoat, so that it was decent, and warm, and there would be no holes to be seen, it was delicate Human! as if he then opened the door and went out onto the stairs with a tear. Well, it’s a pity for a person not to disappear completely... it’s a pity! And then, I think, what it’s like for me! Wait, I think to myself, Emelyanushka, you won’t be feasting with me for long; I'll go soon, then you won't find it. Well, sir, we moved out; then Alexander Filimonovich, the master (now deceased, may he rest in heaven), they said: I am very pleased with you, Astafy, we will all return from the village, we will not forget you, we will take you again. And I lived as their butler; he was a kind gentleman, but he died that same year. Well, as we saw them off, I took my property, there was some money, I think I’ll rest for myself, and I moved in with an old lady and took a corner from her. And she only had one free corner. She was also a nanny somewhere, so now she lived especially and received a pension. Well, I think, goodbye now, Emelyanushka, dear man, you won’t find me! Well, sir, what do you think? I returned in the evening (I went to see a person I knew) and the first I saw was Emelya, sitting on my chest, and next to him, sitting in an overcoat, a checkered bundle was waiting for me... and out of boredom, he also took the church book from the old woman and held it upside down . I found it! And my hands dropped. Well, I think there’s nothing to do, why didn’t I drive at first? Yes, I ask directly: “Did you bring your passport, Emelya?” Here, sir, I sat down and began to think: what, he, a wandering man, will do much to hinder me? And it turned out, on reflection, that the interference would cost little. He needs to eat, I think. Well, a piece of bread in the morning, and to make the seasoning tastier, buy some onion. Yes, at noon, give him some bread and an onion too; Yes, he can also serve onion with kvass and some bread, if he wants some bread. And some cabbage soup comes up, so we’re both completely fed up. I don’t eat much, but a drinking person, as you know, doesn’t eat anything: he would only like liqueurs and green wine. He’ll finish me off in the pub, I thought, but then, sir, something else came to mind, and how it took me away. So much so that if Emelya had left, I wouldn’t have been happy with life... I decided then to be his father-benefactor. I’ll restrain him, I think, from his evil death, I’ll wean his little charm off! Just wait, I think: well, okay, Emelya, stay, but just stay with me now, listen to the command! So I think to myself: I’ll start getting him used to some kind of work now, but not all of a sudden; Let him take a little walk first, and meanwhile I’ll take a closer look and look for why, Emelya, the ability to find in you. Because for any task, sir, first of all, human ability is needed. And I began to quietly take a closer look at him. I see: you are a desperate person, Emelyanushka! I started, sir, first with kind words: this way and that, I say, Emelyan Ilyich, you should look at yourself and somehow get better. Full of walking! Look, you’re walking around in rags, your overcoat, it’s pardonable to say, is fit for a sieve; not good! It's time, it seems, to know the honor. My Emelyanushka sits and listens to me with his head down. What, sir! It’s gotten to the point where he’s lost his tongue and can’t say a good word. You start talking to him about cucumbers, and he responds to you with beans! listens to me, listens for a long time, and then sighs. Why are you sighing, I ask, Emelyan Ilyich? Yes, sir, nothing, Astafy Ivanovich, don’t worry. But today two women, Astafy Ivanovich, had a fight in the street, one accidentally spilled the other’s basket with cranberries. Well, so what? And the other one deliberately spilled her basket with cranberries, and even began to crush it with her foot. Well, so what, Emelyan Ilyich? Nothing, sir, Astafy Ivanovich, that’s just me. “Nothing, sir, just like that. Eh! I think Emelya, Emelyushka! you drank and wasted your head!..” And then the master dropped the banknote on the panel in Gorokhovaya, that is, in Sadovaya. And the man saw it and said: my happiness; and then another saw it and said: no, my happiness! I saw yours before... Well, Emelyan Ilyich. And the men started fighting, Astafy Ivanovich. And the policeman came up, picked up the banknote and gave it to the master, and threatened to put both men in the booth. Well, so what? What is so edifying here? Emelyanushka? Yes, I’m okay, sir. The people laughed, Astafy Ivanovich. Eh, Emelyanushka! what people! You sold your darling for a copper altyn. Do you know what, Emelyan Ilyich, I’ll tell you? What, sir, Astafy Ivanovich? Take some work, really, take it. For the hundredth time I say, take it, have pity on yourself! What should I take, Astafy Ivanovich? I don’t even know what I’ll take; and no one will take me, Astafy Ivanovich. That’s why you were expelled from the service, Emelya, you’re a drinking man! And then Vlas the bartender was called to the office today, Astafy Ivanovich. Why, I say, did they call him, Emelyanushka? But I don’t know why, Astafy Ivanovich. This means that it was needed there, so they demanded it... “Eh-eh! I think you and I are both lost, Emelyanushka! God will punish us for our sins!” Well, what do you want to do with such a person, sir! Only the guy was cunning! He listened, listened to me, and then, you know, he got tired of it, as soon as he sees that I’m angry, he’ll take the overcoat and run away - remember what’s your name! The day will wander, and in the evening he will come drunk. Who gave him water, where he got the money from, God only knows, it’s not my fault!.. No, I say, Emelyan Ilyich, don’t blow your head off! Drink plenty, do you hear, drink plenty! Another time, if you come back drunk, you’ll spend the night with me on the stairs. I won't let you in!.. Having listened to the order, my Emelya sits for a day, then another; on the third he slipped away again. I wait and wait, it doesn’t come! I must admit, I got scared, and I felt sorry for it. What did I do to him? Think. I intimidated him. Well, where did he go now, poor fellow? It will probably disappear, my God! The night has come and is not coming. The next morning I went out into the hallway, I looked, and he deigned to rest in the hallway. He put his head on the attack and lies there; completely numb from the cold. What are you doing, Emelya? The Lord is with you! Where did you end up? Yes, you, Astafy Ivanovich, were angry the other day, you deigned to be upset and promised to put me to sleep in the entryway, so I didn’t dare come in, Astafy Ivanovich, and I lay down here... And anger and pity took over me! Yes, Emelyan, you should at least take some other position, I say. Why guard the stairs!.. But what other position, Astafy Ivanovich? If only you, you lost soul, I say (the evil has taken over me!), if only you had learned the art of tailoring. Look what a greatcoat you have! There are few holes, so you sweep the stairs with it! I would at least take a needle and caulk my holes, as honor dictates. Eh, you're a drunk man! Well, sir! and he took the needle; After all, I told him to laugh, but he became timid and go ahead. He took off his overcoat and began threading the needle. I look at him; Well, it’s a well-known fact, the eyes festered and turned red; your hands are trembling, no matter what! poked, poked the thread is not threaded; He was just winking: he was going to mumble and wriggle in his hands - no! abandoned, looking at me... Well, Emelya, you borrowed me! If it had been in front of people, I would have cut off my head! Why, I said to you, such a simple person, as a laugh, as a reproach... Go away, God bless you, from sin! Sit like that, don’t do anything shameful, don’t spend the night on stairs, don’t disgrace me!.. But what should I do, Astafy Ivanovich; I know myself that I’m always drunk and good for nothing!.. It’s only in vain that I bring you, my good... benefactor, into my heart... Yes, how his blue lips suddenly began to tremble, how a tear rolled down his white cheek, how this tear trembled on his unshaven beard, and how my Emelyan suddenly burst into tears, a whole handful of tears... Fathers! It was like a knife slashed through my heart. “Oh, you sensitive person, I didn’t even think about it! Who would have known, who would have guessed about it?.. No, I think, Emelya, I’ll give up on you completely; disappear like a rag!..” Well, sir, what is there to talk about for a long time? And the whole thing is so empty, miserable, not worth words, that is, you, sir, roughly speaking, won’t give two broken pennies for it, but I would give a lot if I had a lot, just so that that didn't happen! I had, sir, leggings, damn them, good, nice leggings, blue with checks, and the landowner who came here ordered them for me, but later backed down, he says: narrow; So they remained in my hands. I think: a valuable thing! In Tolkuchey, maybe they’ll give you five rubles, but no, then I’ll get two pantaloons for the St. Petersburg gentlemen from them, and I’ll also have a tail left for my vest. It’s good for the poor man, our brother, you know! And at that time Emelyanushka had a harsh, sad time. I look: one day he doesn’t drink, another day he doesn’t drink, the third he doesn’t take anything intoxicating in his mouth, he’s completely dumbfounded, he’s miserable, he’s sitting there sad. Well, I think: or Kupleva, guy, you don’t have it, or you yourself entered the path of God and said that’s it, listened to reason. That, sir, is how it all happened; and at that time there was a big holiday. I went to the all-night vigil; I come, my Emelya is sitting on the window, drunk, swaying. Eh-heh! I think so you, guy! and for some reason he went into the chest. Lo and behold! but the leggings are gone!.. I went here and there: they disappeared! Well, as I rummaged through everything, I see that there is no, it’s as if my heart was scratched! I rushed to the old woman, first slandered her, I sinned, but against Emelya, even though there was evidence that a man was sitting drunk, there was no house! “No,” says my old lady, God be with you, gentleman, why should I wear leggings, or what, should I become? Just the other day, the skirt on a good man of yours disappeared... Well, that is, I don’t know, I don’t know, he says.” “Who was here, I say, who came?” “No one,” he says, “the gentleman,” came; I was here all the time. Emelyan Ilyich went out, and then came; sitting there! Interrogate him." “Didn’t Emelya, I say, for some reason, take my new leggings, do you remember, they were building them for the landowner?” “No,” says Astafy Ivanovich, I, that is, didn’t take them, sir.” What an opportunity! I started searching again, searching and searching, no! And Emelya sits and sways. I was sitting here, sir, in front of him, above the chest, on my haunches, and suddenly I glanced at him... Eh-ma! I think: yes, that’s how my heart lit up in my chest; I even threw it into the paint. Suddenly Emelya looked at me. No, he says, Astafy Ivanovich, I took your leggings, that... you may think that, that, but I didn’t take them, sir. Where could they go, Emelyan Ilyich? No, he says, Astafy Ivanovich, I haven’t seen it at all. What do you know, Emelyan Ilyich, they, no matter what it is, just disappeared? Maybe they themselves disappeared, Astafy Ivanovich. As I listened to him, I stood up, went to the window, lit the lamp, and sat down to do the work. I altered the vest of the official who lived below us. And my chest is burning and aching. That is, it would be easier if I lit the stove with my entire wardrobe. So I felt, Emelya, that evil had grabbed me by the heart. It, sir, if a person is involved in evil, senses trouble from afar, like a bird of heaven before a thunderstorm. And here, Astafy Ivanovich, Emelyushka began (and his little voice is trembling), today Antip Prokhorych, a paramedic, married the coachman’s wife, who died the other day... I mean, I looked at him like that, really maliciously, you know, I looked... I understood Emelya. I see him getting up, walking up to the bed and starting to rummage around for something. I wait and fuss for a long time, but he keeps saying: “No way, where can they, the rascals, disappear!” I'm waiting for what will happen; I see Emelya crawling under the bed on his haunches. I couldn't stand it. Why, I say, Emelyan Ilyich, are you crawling on your haunches? But isn’t there a pair of trousers, Astafy Ivanovich? See if they've fallen in there somewhere. Why, sir, am I telling you (in annoyance he began to call him names), that you, sir, should stand up for a poor, simple person like me; My knees are fidgeting in vain! Well, Astafy Ivanovich, I’m okay... It may be found somehow, if you look for it. Hm... I say; listen, Emelyan Ilyich! What does Astafy Ivanovich say? Isn’t it you, I say, who simply stole them from me, like a thief and a swindler, serving for my bread and salt? That is, this is how, sir, I was disturbed by the fact that he, on his knees in front of me, began to fidget on the floor. No, sir... Astafy Ivanovich... And he himself, as he was, remained prone under the bed. He lay there for a long time; then crawled out. I look: a completely pale man, like a sheet. He got up, sat down next to me on the window, and sat like that for about ten minutes. “No,” he says, Astafy Ivanovich, “yes, he suddenly stood up and approached me, as I now see, terrible as sin. No, he says, Astafy Ivanovich, I didn’t deign to take your leggings... He himself is trembling all over, poking himself in the chest with a shaking finger, and his little voice is trembling so much that I, sir, became timid and seemed rooted to the window. Well, I say, Emelyan Ilyich, whatever you want, forgive me if I, a stupid person, reproached you with false accusations. And let their leggings, you know, disappear; We won’t be lost without leggings. We have hands, thank God, we won’t go stealing... and we won’t beg from a poor stranger; let's earn some bread... Emelya listened to me, stood in front of me, looked and sat down. So he sat there all evening, without moving; I’ve already gone to bed, and Emelya is still sitting in the same place. The next morning, I just see him lying on the bare floor, huddled in his greatcoat; He humiliated himself painfully and didn’t come to lie down on the bed. Well, sir, I didn’t like him from that time on, that is, in the first days I hated him. This is exactly what, roughly speaking, my own son robbed me and caused me a personal insult. Ah, I think: Emelya, Emelya! And Emelya, sir, has been drinking for about two weeks without waking up. That is, he went completely crazy and got drunk. He’ll leave in the morning, come back late at night, and in two weeks I’ll at least hear a word from him. That is, it’s true that it was grief that gnawed at him then, or he wanted to get rid of himself somehow. Finally, that’s it, he stopped, drank it all, and sat down on the window again. I remember sitting and being silent for three days; suddenly, I see a man crying. That is, he sits, sir, and cries, and how! that is, just a well, as if he himself does not hear how he sheds tears. But it’s hard, sir, to see when a grown man, and even an old man, like Emelya, begins to cry out of misfortune and sadness. What are you doing, Emelya? I say. And he started shaking all over. So I shuddered. That is, I addressed him for the first time since that time. Nothing... Astafy Ivanovich. The Lord is with you, Emelya, let it all be lost. Why are you sitting there like an owl? I felt sorry for him. So, sir, Astafy Ivanovich, I didn’t mean that, sir. I want to take on some work, Astafy Ivanovich. What kind of work would that be, Emelyan Ilyich? So, some kind, sir. Maybe I’ll find a position, sir, as before; I already went to ask Fedosei Ivanovich... It’s not good for me to offend you, sir, Astafy Ivanovich. As soon as I, Astafy Ivanovich, perhaps find a position, I will give you everything and give you a reward for all your grub. That’s enough, Emelya, that’s complete; Well, it was such a sin, well, it’s gone! Take his ashes! Let's live as before. No, sir, Astafy Ivanovich, you may be all that... but I didn’t deign to take your leggings... Well, as you wish; God be with you, Emelyanushka! No, sir, Astafy Ivanovich. Apparently I am no longer a tenant with you. Excuse me, Astafy Ivanovich. Yes, the Lord is with you, I say: who, Emelyan Ilyich, offends you, drives you out of the yard, me, or what? No, sir, it’s indecent for me to live like this with you, Astafy Ivanovich... I’d better go, sir... That is, he got offended and fixed one thing. I look at him, and he really stood up, dragging his greatcoat over his shoulders. Where are you going, Emelyan Ilyich? listen to the mind: what are you doing? where will you go? No, goodbye, Astafy Ivanovich, don’t hold me back (he whines again); I’m already going away from sin, Astafy Ivanovich. You are not the same now. Which one is not? such! Yes, you, like a small, unreasonable child, will perish alone, Emelyan Ilyich. No, Astafy Ivanovich, as you are leaving, you are now locking the chest, and I, Astafy Ivanovich, see and cry... No, you better let me in, Astafy Ivanovich, and forgive me everything that I did to you in our cohabitation offended. Well, sir? and the man left. I'm waiting for a day, and I think he'll be back in the evening - no! Another day no, third day no. I was frightened, melancholy tossed me over; I don’t drink, I don’t eat, I don’t sleep. The man completely disarmed me! On the fourth day I went for a walk, looked into all the zucchini shops, and asked, “No, Emelyanushka has disappeared!” “Have you cut off your victorious head? I think. Maybe you died somewhere near the fence, drunk, and now you’re lying like a rotten log.” Neither alive nor dead, I returned home. The next day I also decided to go look. And I curse myself, why did I allow this stupid man to leave me of his own free will? I just looked: before it was light, on the fifth day (it was a holiday), the door creaked. I see Emelya come in: he’s so blue and his hair is all dirty, as if he slept on the street, he’s as thin as a torch; He took off his overcoat, sat down on my chest, and looked at me. I was overjoyed, but more than ever, melancholy was soldered to my soul. This is how it comes out, sir: if such a human sin had happened to me, that is, I, truly, say: I would rather die, like a dog, than come. And Emelya came! Well, naturally, it’s hard to see a person in such a position. I began to cherish, caress, and console him. “Well, I say, Emelyanushka, I’m glad you came back. If I had been a little late to come, I would have gone to the zucchini today to hunt for you. Have you eaten? Kushal, Astafy Ivanovich. Have you eaten enough? Here, brother, there are only a few left of yesterday’s chicks; they were on beef, not empty; and here is the onion with bread. Eat it, I say: it’s not too bad for your health. I gave it to him; Well, then I saw that maybe the person hadn’t eaten for three whole days; he had such an appetite. This means his hunger drove him to me. I became blue, looking at him, so warm. This morning, I think I’ll run to the damask shop. I’ll bring him to vent and let’s finish it off! I have no more anger towards you, Emelyanushka! Brought some wine. Here, I say, Emelyan Ilyich, let’s have a drink for the holiday. Would you like a drink? it's great. He stretched out his hand, reached out so greedily, was about to take it, and then stopped; waited a little; I look: he takes it, carries it to his mouth, splashes wine on his sleeve. No, he brought it to his mouth and immediately put it on the table. Well, Emelyanushka? No; I, that... Astafy Ivanovich. You won’t have a drink, will you? Yes, I, Astafy Ivanovich, so... I won’t drink anymore, Astafy Ivanovich. Well, are you going to stop completely, Emelyushka, or are you just not going to stop today? He said nothing. I look: a minute later he put his head on his hand. What, are you sick, Emelya? Yes, he’s not feeling well, Astafy Ivanovich. I took him and put him on the bed. I look, and it’s really bad: my head is burning, and I’m shaking with a fever. I sat over him for a day; worse by night. I mixed kvass with butter and onions for him and sprinkled some bread on him. Well, I say: eat the tyuri, maybe it will be better! Shakes his head. “No,” he says, “I won’t have lunch today, Astafy Ivanovich.” I made him some tea, completely wrapped up the little old lady, there’s nothing better. Well, I think it's bad! On the third morning I went to the doctor. I had a doctor friend, Kostopravov, who lived here. Even before, when I was with the Barefoot gentlemen, we met; he treated me. A doctor came and took a look. “No, he says, it’s bad. There was nothing, he said, to send for me. Perhaps I should give him some powder.” Well, I didn’t give any powders; This is how, I think, the doctor indulges; and meanwhile the fifth day came. He lay, sir, in front of me, ending. I sat on the window, holding the work in my hands. The old woman lit the stove. We are all silent. My heart, sir, breaks for him, the drunkard: it’s as if I were burying my own son. I know that Emelya is looking at me now; in the morning I saw that the man was getting stronger, he wanted to say something, but, apparently, he didn’t dare. Finally looked at him; I see such melancholy in the poor fellow’s eyes, he can’t take his eyes off me; and when he saw that I was looking at him, he immediately looked down. Astafy Ivanovich! What, Emelyushka? But if, for example, my greatcoat were taken to Tolkuchy, would they give so much for it, Astafy Ivanovich? Well, I say, I don’t know how much they would give. Maybe they would have given me three rubles, Emelyan Ilyich. But come to think of it, they wouldn’t have given you anything except to laugh in your face for selling such an unfortunate thing. So only to him, a man of God, knowing his simple-minded temperament, he said it for joy. And I thought, Astafy Ivanovich, that they would have paid three silver rubles for it; she is a piece of cloth, Astafy Ivanovich. How about a three-ruble one if it’s a cloth item? I don’t know, I say, Emelyan Ilyich; If you want to carry it, then, of course, you will have to ask for three rubles from the first word. Emelya was silent for a moment; then he calls out again: Astafy Ivanovich! What, I ask, Emelyanushka? You sell the greatcoat when I die, but don’t bury me in it. I’ll lie down anyway; and she is a valuable thing; may be useful to you. Here, sir, my heart sank so much that it’s impossible to say. I see that death-bed melancholy is approaching a person. They fell silent again. An hour passed. I looked at him again: he kept looking at me, but when he met my gaze, he looked down again. Would you like, I say, to drink some water, Emelyan Ilyich? Give, God be with you, Astafy Ivanovich. I gave him a drink. He took a sip. Thank you, says Astafy Ivanovich. Don’t you need anything else, Emelyanushka? No, Astafy Ivanovich; do not need anything; and I, that... What? This... What’s wrong, Emelyushka? Leggings... that's it... I took them from you then... Astafy Ivanovich... Well, the Lord, I say, will forgive you, Emelyanushka, you wretched person is so, so, so! depart in peace... And, sir, my breath was taken away and tears fell from my eyes; I turned away for a minute. Astafy Ivanovich... I look: Emelya wants to tell me something; he rises up, makes an effort, moves his lips... All of a sudden he turns red, looks at me... Suddenly I see: he’s turning pale again, turning pale, fallen completely in an instant; threw his head back, took one breath, and then gave his soul to God........................................................
