Short Fiction, стр. 579

asking for bread, we can’t refuse. How could we? Vanka Then why are those people put in prison? Semka What else could be done with them? Vanka What? What could be done? One must somehow manage that⁠ ⁠… Semka Yes, somehow! But you don’t know how. There have been people with more brains than you’ve got who have thought about that, and they couldn’t invent anything. Palashka I think if I had been a queen⁠ ⁠… Aksutka Laughing. Well, what would you have done, my queen? Palashka I would have things so that nobody would steal and the children would not cry. Aksutka How would you do that? Palashka I would just see that everybody was given what he needed, that nobody was wronged by anybody else, and that they were all happy. Semka Three cheers for the queen! But how would you manage that? Palashka I would just do it, you would see. Mitka Let us all go to the birch woods. The girls have been gathering a lot there lately. Semka All right. Come along, you fellows. And you, queen, mind you don’t drop your mushrooms. You are so sharp. They get up and go away.

On Wealth

The Landlord, his Wife, their Daughter and their son Vasia, six years old, are having tea on the veranda. The grown-up children are playing tennis. A Young Beggar comes up to the veranda.

Landlord	To the beggar. What do you want?
Beggar	Bowing to him. I dare say you know. Have pity on a man out of work. I am tramping, with nothing to eat, and no clothes to wear. I have been to Moscow, and am trying to get home. Help a poor man.
Landlord	Why are you poor?
Beggar	Why? Because I haven’t got anything.
Landlord	You would not be poor if you worked.
Beggar	I would be glad to, but I can’t get a job. Everything is shut down now.
Landlord	How is it other people find work and you cannot?
Beggar	Believe me, upon my soul, I would be only too glad to work. But I can’t find a job. Have pity on me, sir. I have not eaten for two days, and I’ve been tramping all the time.
Landlord	To his wife in French. Have you any change? I have only notes.
His Wife	To Vasia. Be a good boy, go and fetch my purse; it is in my bag on the little table beside my bed.
	Vasia does not hear what his mother says; he has his eyes fixed on the beggar.
The Wife	Don’t you hear, Vasia? Pulling him by the sleeve. Vasia!
Vasia	What, mother?
	The Wife repeats her directions.
Vasia	Jumping up. I am off. Goes, looking back at the beggar.
Landlord	To the beggar. Wait a moment. Beggar steps aside.
Landlord	To his wife, in French. Is it not dreadful? So many are out of work now. It is all laziness. Yet, it is horrid if he really is hungry.
His Wife	I hear it is just the same abroad. I have read that in New York there are 100,000 unemployed. Another cup of tea?
Landlord	Yes, but much weaker. He lights a cigarette; they stop talking.
	Beggar looks at them, shakes his head and coughs, evidently to attract their attention.
	Vasia comes running with the purse, looks round for the beggar and, passing the purse to his mother, looks again fixedly at the beggar.
Landlord	Taking a ten kopeck piece out of the purse. There, What’s-your-name, take that.
Beggar	Bows, pulls off his cap and takes the money. Thank you, thank you for that much. Many thanks for having pity on a poor man.
Landlord	I pity you chiefly for being out of work. Work would save you from poverty. He who works will never be poor.
Beggar	Having received the money, puts on his cap and turns away. They say truly that work does not make a rich man but a humpback. Exit.
Vasia	What did he say!
Landlord	He repeated that stupid peasant’s proverb, that work does not make a rich man but a humpback.
Vasia	What does that mean?
Landlord	It is supposed to mean that work makes a man’s back crooked, without ever making him rich.
Vasia	But that is not true, is it?
Father	Of course not. Those who tramp about like that man there and have no desire to work, are always poor. It’s only those who work, who get rich.
Vasia	Why are we rich, then, when we don’t work?
Mother	Laughing. How do you know father doesn’t work?
Vasia	I don’t know, but since we are very rich, father ought to be working very hard. Is he, I wonder?
Father	There is work and work. My work is perhaps work that everybody could not do.
Vasia	What is your work?
Father	My work is to provide for your food, your clothes, and your education.
Vasia	But hasn’t he to provide all that also? Then why is he so miserable when we are so⁠—
Father	Laughing. What a self-made socialist, I say!
Mother	Yes, people say: “A fool can ask more questions than a thousand wise men can answer.” Instead of “fool,” we ought to say “every child.”

On Those Who Offend You

• Masha, a girl of ten

• Vania, a boy of eight

Masha	What I wish is that mother would come home at once and take us shopping, and then to call on Nastia. What would you like to happen now?
Vania	I? I wish something would happen like it did yesterday.
Masha	What happened yesterday? You mean when Grisha hit you and you both began to cry? There wasn’t much good in that.
Vania	That’s just what was beautiful. Nothing could have been more so. That’s what I want to happen again.
Masha	I don’t understand.
Vania	Well, I will explain what I want. Do you remember last Sunday, Uncle P.⁠—you know how I love him.⁠ ⁠…
Masha	Who wouldn’t. Mother says he is a saint; and it’s true.
Vania	Well, you remember he told us a story last Sunday about a man whom people used