" Well, Sasha," she said after a short silence, " you are now going to a strange land."
" A strange land ! Petersburg ! How you talk, mamma."
" Wait a little, wait a little, hear what I want to say! God alone knows what awaits you there, what you will meet with, good and bad. I trust He, our Father in Heaven, will guard you; and you, my dear, above all, don't forget Him; remember that without faith there is no salvation anywhere or in anything. You will take a good position there, you will mix with people of consequence—indeed, we
are as good as anybody; vo ur father was a nob leman, a major—all the same, humble yourself before the Lord God; pray both in good fortune and in bad; and not like the proverb—' the peasant does not cross himself till he hears the thunder.' There are men, who, while they have good luck, don't even go to church, and then when they come to grief, they will put up candles at a rouble a piece, and will give alms to the poor—that is a great sin. And while we are talking of the poor—don't waste money on them too often, don't give away too much. Why should you spoil them ? They won't think any the more of you for it. They will spend it in drink and only laugh at you. You have a soft heart, I know; you would be ready, I dare say, to give away even a sixpenny piece. No, that's not necessary; God will provide I Will you visit the house of God ? Will you go every Sunday to Mass ? "
She sighed.
Alexandr was silent. He remembered that while he was studying at the university and living in the capital of the province, he had not been very zealous in going to church, and in the country it was only from desire to please his mother that he had accompanied her to mass. He was ashamed to tell a lie. His mother understood his silence' and sighed again.
" Well, I won't compel you," she continued, " you are a young man—how could you be as zealous in the house of God as an old woman like me? Perhaps your official duties now will hinder you, or you will be staying late at some grand houses and will oversleep yourself. God will have pity on your, youth. Don't be troubled; you have a mother; she will not oversleep. So long as there is a drop of blood left in my body, so long as my tears are not dried up in my eyes, and God has compassion on my sins, I will crawl, if I have not the strength to walk, along the road to church. I will give my last breath, I will shed my last tear for you, my dear. My prayers shall win you health and position and decorations and heavenly and earthly blessings. Can it be that He, our Father in Heaven, will despise the prayers of a poor old woman ? For myself I want nothing. Let Him take everything from me, health, life, sight—only may He grant you every pleasure, every happiness and good "
She could not finish. Tears began to fall from her eyes.
Alexandr jumped up from his place. "Mamma," he said.
" There, sit down, sit down !" she replied, hastily wiping away her tears. " I have still a great deal more to talk to you about. What was I going to say? It's gone out of my head. You see what a memory I have. Ah! keep the fasts, my dear. That is a great thing ! On Wednesdays and Fridays, God will pardon it, but Lent—God forbid ! Look at Mikhailo Mikhailitch, he thought himself an enlightened man, but what happened to him ? Festival and fast alike— he eat as greedily as ever. It positively makes my hair stand on end. He gave to the poor to be sure, but was his charity acceptable to the Lord ? They say he once gave a sovereign to an old man; he took it to be sure, but turned his back and spat. All bowed to him, and God knows what they said to his face, but behind his back they crossed themselves when they thought of him, as though he were a devil."
Alexandr listened with some impatience and gazed from time to time out of window at the distant road.
She was silent for a minute.
" Take care of your health before all things," she continued. " If you are seriously ill—which God forbid !— write. I will make a great effort and come to you. Who would look after you in Petersburg ? Why they would even seize the opportunity to rob you in your sickness. Don't go into the streets after dark; keep away from ferocious-looking people. Take care of your money—save it for a rainy day. S pend it reasonably. From money—the acqursed thing—comes_every thi ng go o(f a"nft""gvrt'.~" DonX be^Ttraragaht: "don 't w aste Tt on_ needless. whims t "*You will receive from me, without fail, two thousand five hundred roubles a year. Two thousand five hundred roubles is no small matter. Don't spend it on any kind of luxury, nothing of that sort, only don't deny yourself anything you can have; if you want any dainty, don't grudge the money. Don't give way to wine; ah, it is the greatest enemy of mankind! And," here she dropped her voice, " beware of women L J kno w them. There are creatures so s &ame-less, that thejL^iU throw themselves o n yo ur ne ck wh en they see such a——" She Tooked lovingly at her son.
" That's enough, mamma; isn't it time I had my breakfast?" he asked almost with vexation.
"Directly—directly—now one word more. Don't set y our heart on the wife of anot h er/' she went on hurrie dly. * "t hat is a great sin ! ' Jjo not covet your neighbour's wife* is written, in irjgjicriptujes. If any woman there tries to giThold of you—to marry you—God forbid!—don't dare to think of it! They will be ready to entrap you, when they see you have money and are good-looking. I daresay at your chiefs or at some other distinguished and wealthy grandee's, they will set their caps at you and try to make a match for their daughters. Well, then, it might be, only write to me. I will come somehow and will see that they are not palming off just any girl on you, simply to get rid of her, some old maid or poor creature. Every one will try to make up to a match like you. But if you yourself fall in love, and she proves to be a good girl—well then," here she lowered her voice, "Sonushka need not be considered." (The old woman in her love for her son was ready even to act against her conscience.) " After all, what was Maria Karpovna thinking about ? Her ) daughter is no match for you. A country girl! There » are others besides her who would be glad to get hold of you."
" Sophia—no, mamma—I shall never forget her," said ( Alexandr.
"Well, well, my dear, never mind, I only mentioned it. Work a little in your situation, come home here and then, as God sees fit—there are always plenty of girls. If you don't forget her—well, then. But if "
She wanted to say more, but had not the heart; and bending to his ear she asked softly, " And will you remember—your mother ? "
" See what you've worked yourself up to," he interrupted, " please let them serve what you have, omelet or whatever it is. Forget you; how could you imagine such a thing ? May God punish me!"
"Hush, hush, Sasha," she broke in quickly; "why are you calling down such things on your head ? No, no, whatever happens, if such a thing comes to pass, let me suffer alone. You are young, you are only beginning life, you will have friends, you will marry—a young woman will
f
fill the place of your mother and of every one for you. No, may God bless you as I bless you !"
She kissed him on the forehead and so ended her sermon
" But why is it nobody comes ? " she said. " Not Maria Karpovna, nor Anton Ivanitch nor the priest are come. The mass must be over by now, I should think. Ah, here is some one coming! Anton Ivanitch, I fancy—yes, it is he; speak of the devil "
Who does not know Anton Ivanit ch ? He is a Wandering Jew. He has existed always, everywhere, from "the niSst ancient times, and has never become extinct. He was present at the Greek and Roman symposiums, and certainly tasted the fatted calf killed by the happy father on the return of the Prodigal Son.
Among us in Russia he takes various forms. The one in question had twelve serfs mortgaged over and over again; he lived almost in a hut, a kind of queer building resembling a loghouse—the entrance somewhere behind over some timber, close up to the hedge; but for twelve years he had been continually declaring that in the following spring he would start building a new house. He kept no housekeeper in his house. There was not a man of his acquaintance who had dined, supped or drunk a cup of tea in his house, but also there was not a man with whom he had not dined, supped or drunk tea fifty times a year. In d
ays gone by Anton Ivanitch used to walk about in loose pantaloons and a full skirted overcoat, now he wears on weekdays a surtout and trousers, on holidays, a frock-coat—of what sort of cut God only knows. In figure he is fat, because he has no sorrows, no cares, no emotions, though he pretends that he spends his whole life in the sorrows and cares of others; but it is well-known that the sorrows and cares of others do not make us thin; that is a fact admitted on all hands.
In reality Anton Ivanitch was never of use to any one, yet without him not a single ceremony took place, not a wedding, nor a funeral. He was at all the formal dinners and evening parties and at all family gatherings; no one would stir a step without him. You may imagine perhaps that he was very useful, giving good advice here, arranging some difficulty there. Not a bit of it! No-one had ever
entrusted him with anything of the kind; he understood nothing, could do nothing; could not manage a matter in the law courts, could not act as go-between or mediator, could do absolutely nothing.
But yet they did commission him sometimes to call in and take a polite message from such a one to such a one, and he takes it without fail and seizes the opportunity to get a breakfast there ; or to inform such a one that certain papers have been received, but their exact nature they would not confide to him; or to take somewhere a little jar of honey or a handful of seeds with the precept " not to spill and not to spoil; " or to carry congratulations on some one's birthday. And they employ Anton Ivanitch, too, in such matters as they consider it unsuitable to leave to a servant. "We can't send Petrushka, he would be sure to make a mistake about it. 'No, better let Anton Ivanitch go with it! It would never do to send a man ; so and so would be offended, better get Anton Ivanitch to go!"
So every one would have been astonished if he were nowhere to be seen at a dinner or a supper. "But where is Anton Ivanitch ?" every one would be sure to ask in surprise. " What's wrong with him ?—why isn't he here ? " And the dinner would hardly seem a dinner at all.
Anton Ivanitch came in and took Anna Pavlovna's hand.
" Good-morning, ma'am, good-morning, Anna Pavlovna! I have the honour of congratulating you on something new."
"W T hat is that, Anton Ivanitch?" inquired Anna Pavlovna, looking at herself from head to foot.
" Why the little bridge at the gates! You must have only just had it put up. Why, I listened—the planks didn't dance under my feet. I looked, and it was new !"
He always used when he met acquaintances to congratulate them on something or other, either on Lent, or on the spring* or on the autumn; if, after a spell of warm weather, frost had set in, then he would congratulate them on the frost, if the frost had just broken up, then on the thaw.
On this occasion there was nothing of this kind to fix on, but he still managed to find something.
" Kind regards to you from Alexandra Vassilievna, Matrena Mihailovna and Piotr Sergeitch," said he.
"I thank you sincerely, Anton Ivanitch! Are their children well ? "
B
" Yes, thanks be to God. I bring you the blessing of the church, the good father is just on my heels. But have you heard, ma'am, our good Semen Arkhipytch ? "
" What is it ? " asked Anna Pavlovna, in dismay,
" Ah, he has taken leave of us for ever."
" You don't say it ? When did it happen ? "
" Yesterday morning. They sent to let me know in the evening; a lad galloped up; and I set off and did not sleep all night. They were all in tears; I had to console them and see to everything; every one in the house was quite overcome, nothing but weeping. I was all alone."
"Merciful heavens," said Anna Pavlovna, shaking her head, " such is life ! But how could it happen ? Only this week he sent us his greetings."
" Yes, ma'am—ah ! but he had been ailing a long while, the old man was a good age, the wonder is that he had never been laid up till now."
"A good age? He was only a year older than my poor husband. Well, God's peace be with him!" said Anna Pavlovna, crossing herself. "I am grieved for poor Fedosia Petrovna, she is left with little children on her hands, it's a serious matter—five, and almost all little girls. And when is the funeral to be ? "
" To-morrow."
"Ah, every heart has its own sorrow, Anton Ivanitch, here am I seeing my son off."
"There's no help for it, Anna Pavlovna, we are all mortal;' man is born to sorrow,' is written in the Scriptures."
"Well, don't be vexed with me for distressing you a little, let us sorrow together; you love us like one of our own family."
" Ah, Anna Pavlovna ! and whom could I love as I do you? Have I many friends like you? You know how precious you are. 1 have so many cares, and that reminds me of my building. Only yesterday I was disputing all the morning with the contractor, but somehow we could not agree on anything. Yet how, thought I, am I to keep away ? What, thought I, will she do without me ? She is no longer young. Why she will be beside herself!"
" God reward you, Anton Ivanitch, for not forgetting us! And, indeed, I am not myself; my head is in such a whirl.
I can see nothing; my throat is sore with crying. I beg you to take a little to eat; you must be tired and hungry."
" I thank you sincerely. I confess that I had a drop at Piotr Sergeitch's as I was passing and took a mouthful with him. But that is no hindrance. The father is comipg; let him give the benediction. Yes, here he is on the stairs !"
The priest came in. Maria Karpovna, too, arrived with her daughter, a plump and rosy girl, with a smile and tearful eyes. The eyes and the whole expression of face of Sophia said plainly : " I will love simply without caprice, I will be married like a nursemaid, and will obey my husband in everything and never think I know better than he; indeed, and how could one know better than one's husband ? it would be a sin. I will be diligent in housekeeping and sewing; I will bear him half-a-dozen children, and will suckle them, tend them, dress them and make their clothes." The plumpness and brilliance of her cheeks and the fine contours of her throat confirmed the promise of robust motherhood. But the tears in her eyes and her pathetic smile lent her at this moment a more romantic interest
Before anything else they listened to a prayer, for which Anton Ivanitch called in the domestics, lighted the candle, and took the book from the priest, when he had finished reading it, and handed it to the deacon, and afterwards poured the holy water into a little flask and put it into his pocket, saying " That's for Agafea Nikitishnya." They sat down to table. Except Anton Ivanitch and the priest, they could hardly eat a morsel, but to make up for this, Anton Ivanitch did full justice to the Homeric breakfast. Anna Pavlovna kept weeping and stealthily wiping her eyes.
" Don't keep on so, ma'am," said Anton Ivanitch with assumed vexation, pouring out some liqueur for himself. "Why, are you sending him to certain death, do you imagine ? " Then he drank up half the liqueur and smacked his lips.
" What liqueur! What an aroma it has ! Ah, ma'am, you wouldn't find such liqueur anywhere in the district!" he said, with an expression of great pleasure.
" It is no more than thr-ee-ee years old!" said Anna Pavlovna, sobbing, " it has—only to-day—been uncorked for you.
" Ah, Anna Pavlovna, it makes me ill to see you,
ao A COMMON STORY
began Anton Ivanitch again, "I don't know what you deserve."
" But only imagine, Anton Ivanitch, an only son, and he going out of my sight; it will kill me and there will be no one to bury me."
"And what do we count for? What? Am la stranger or what ? And why in such a hurry to die ? More likely to be married than that—I would dance at the wedding. But do give over crying."
"I cannot, Anton Ivanitch, indeed I cannot; I don't know myself why my tears will come."
" The idea of keeping such a young man shut up ! Let him have his freedom, he will find bis wings, and then he will do wonders; there he will gain a position."
" Good luck to your words! And why have you taken so little pie ? Take some more."
" Yes, I will ha
ve some; just this piece. To your health, Alexandr Fedoritch ! A lucky journey, and come home quickly and get married ! Why do you blush, Sophia Vassilievna ? "
" I ?—oh, no. I'm so "
" Ah, young people, young people—he ! he ! he !"
" In your company one cannot feel one's sorrow, Anton Ivanitch," said Anna Pavlovna, " you know so well how to comfort one. God give you health! But do take a little liqueur."
" I will drink a little, ma'am, I will indeed; who would not drink at such a leave-taking ! "
The breakfast came to an end. The coachman had long ago packed the carriage. They brought it round to the steps. The seivants ran about one after another. One carried a trunk, another a bundle, a third a little bag, and then ran back after something else. Like flies round a drop of syrup, the servants clustered round the carriage, and every one wanted to have a hand in it.
" Better lay the trunk so," said one, " and here the hamper with the provisions."
" And where are they to put their legs then ? " answered the other, "the trunk's better lengthways, and the hamper we can fix alongside."
" The feather bed will roll off, if the trunk goes lengthways; better across. What next ? Were the slippers packed ? "
" I don't know. Who packed them ? "
" I didn't. Go and see whether they are still there upstairs."
" You go yourself."
" And why not you ? I haven't time !"
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