The Beggar By Anton Chekhov

"KIND sir, be therefore sensible on notice a poor, hungry man. i've got not tasted food for 3 days. i've got not a five-kopeck piece for a night's lodging. I swear by God ! For 5 years i used to be a village schoolmaster and lost my post through the intrigues of the Zemstvo. i used to be the victim of liar. i've got been out of an area for a year currently."

Skvortsov, a military blockade professional, checked out the speaker's tattered blueness overcoat, at his muddy, bibulous eyes, at the red patches on his cheeks, and it appeared to him that he had seen the person before.

"And currently i'm offered a post within the urban center province," the beggar continuing, "but i've got not the suggests that for the journey there. gracefully facilitate me! i'm disgraced to raise, but . . . i'm compelled by circumstances."

Skvortsov checked out his goloshes, of that one was shallow sort of a shoe, whereas the opposite came high the leg sort of a boot, and suddenly remembered.

"Listen, the day before yesterday I met you in Sadovoy Street," he same, "and then you told American state, not that you just were a village schoolmaster, however that you just were a student WHO had been expelled. does one remember?"

"N-o. No, that can't be so!" the beggar muttered in confusion. "I am a village schoolmaster, and if you would like it I will show you documents to prove it."

"That's enough lies! You referred to as yourself a student, and even told American state what you were expelled for. does one remember?"

Skvortsov flushed, and with a glance of disgust on his face turned aloof from the ragged figure.

"It's contemptible, sir!" he cried angrily. "It's a swindle! I'll hand you over to the police, damn you! you're poor and hungry, however that doesn't offer you the correct to lie therefore shamelessly!"

The ragged figure took hold of the door-handle and, sort of a bird in an exceedingly snare, looked around the hall urgently.

"I . . . i'm not lying," he muttered. "I will show documents."

"Who will believe you?" Skvortsov went on, still angry. "To exploit the sympathy of the general public for village schoolmasters and students—it's therefore low, so mean, therefore dirty! It's revolting!"

Skvortsov flew into a rage and gave the beggar a cutthroat scolding. The ragged fellow's insolent lying aroused his disgust and aversion, was associate degree offence against what he, Skvortsov, admired and prized in himself: helpfulness, a sense heart, sympathy for the sad. By his lying, by his treacherous assault upon compassion, the individual had, as it were, defiled the charity that he likeable to offer to the poor with no misgivings in his heart. The beggar initially defended himself, protested with oaths, then he sank into silence and decorated his head, overcome with shame.

"Sir!" he same, birth his hand on his heart, "I extremely was . . . lying! i'm not a student and not a village schoolmaster. All that's mere invention! I wont to be within the Russian choir, and that i was clothed of it for drunkenness. however what am i able to do? Believe American state, in God's name, I can't get on while not lying—when I tell the reality nobody can offer American state something. With the reality one could die of hunger and freeze while not a night's lodging! What you say is true, I perceive that, but . . . what am I to do?"

"What are you to do? You raise what are you to do?" cried Skvortsov, going finish off to him. "Work—that's what you need to do! you need to work!"

"Work. . . . i do know that myself, however wherever am i able to get work?"

"Nonsense. you're young, strong, and healthy, and will perpetually notice work if you wished to. however you recognize you're lazy, pampered, drunken! You reek of John Barleycorn sort of a pothouse! you've got become false and corrupt to the marrow of your bones and appropriate nothing however mendicancy and lying! If you are doing gracefully condescend to require work, you need to have employment in associate degree workplace, within the Russian choir, or as a billiard-marker, wherever you'll have a remuneration and don't have anything to do! however however would you prefer to undertake manual labour? I'll be sure, you wouldn't be a house porter or a manufactory hand! you're too cultivated for that!"

"What belongings you say, really . . ." same the beggar, and he gave a bitter smile. "How am i able to get manual work? It's rather late on behalf of me to be a shopman, for in trade one must begin from a boy; nobody would take American state as a house porter, as a result of i'm not of that category . . . . and that i couldn't get add a factory; one should apprehend a trade, and that i ignoramus."

"Nonsense! you mostly notice some justification! Wouldn't you prefer to cut wood?"

"I wouldn't refuse to, however the regular woodchoppers are out of labor currently."

"Oh, all idlers argue like that! As before long as you're offered something you refuse it. Would you care to cut wood for me?"

"Certainly i will be able to. . ."

"Very sensible, we tend to shall see. . . . Excellent. We'll see!" Skvortsov, in nervous haste; and not while not malignant pleasure, rubbing his hands, summoned his cook from the room.

"Here, Olga," he same to her, "take this gentleman to the shed and let him chop some wood."

The beggar shrugged his shoulders like at a loss, and irresolutely followed the cook. it had been evident from his manner that he had consented to travel and chop wood, not as a result of he was hungry and wished to earn cash, however merely from shame and self-love, as a result of he had been taken at his word. it had been clear, too, that he was laid low with the consequences of John Barleycorn, that he was unwell, and felt not the faintest inclination to figure.

Skvortsov precipitate into the dining-room. There from the window that looked out into the yard he might see the shed and everything that happened within the yard. Standing at the window, Skvortsov saw the cook and also the beggar come back by the rear method into the yard and bear the muddy snow to the shed. Olga scrutinized her companion angrily, and jerking her elbow unsecured the shed and angrily banged the door open.

"Most seemingly we tend to interrupted the lady drinking her occasional," thought

Skvortsov. "What a cross creature she is!"

Then he saw the pseudo-schoolmaster and pseudo-student seat himself on a block of wood, and, leaning his red cheeks upon his fists, sink into thought. The cook flung associate degree axe at his feet, spat angrily on the bottom, and, decision making by the expression of her lips, began abusing him. The beggar thespian a log of wood towards him irresolutely, set it up between his feet, and diffidently thespian the axe across it. The log toppled and fell over. The beggar thespian it towards him, breathed on his frozen hands, and once more thespian the axe on it as cautiously like he were frightened of its touch his rubber or chopping off his fingers. The log fell once again.

Skvortsov's wrath had befell by currently, he felt sore and disgraced at the thought that he had forced a coddled, drunken, and maybe sick man to try to to exhausting, rough add the cold.

"Never mind, let him last . . ." he thought, going from the dining-room into his study. "I am doing it for his good!"

An hour later Olga appeared and proclaimed that the wood had been shredded up.

"Here, offer him a Russian monetary unit," same Skvortsov. "If he likes, let him come back and chop wood on the primary of each month. . . . there'll perpetually be work for him."

On the primary of the month the beggar turned up and once more earned a Russian monetary unit, tho' he might hardly stand. From that point forward he took to turning up oft, and work was perpetually found for him: generally he would sweep the snow into plenty, or clear up the shed, at another he wont to beat the rugs and also the mattresses. He perpetually received thirty to forty kopecks for his work, associate degreed on one occasion an previous combine of trousers was sent intent on him.

When he affected, Skvortsov engaged him to help in packing and moving the article of furniture. On this occasion the beggar was sober, gloomy, and silent; he scarcely touched the article of furniture, walked with hanging head behind the article of furniture vans, and failed to even try and seem busy; he just shivered with the cold, and was overcome with confusion once the lads with the vans laughed at his idleness, feebleness, and ragged coat that had once been a gentleman's. once the removal Skvortsov sent for him.

"Well, I see my words have had an impact upon you," he same, giving him a Russian monetary unit. "This is for your work. I see that you just are sober and not reluctant to figure. what's your name?"

"Lushkov."

"I can give you higher work, not therefore rough, Lushkov. are you able to write?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then go together with this note to-morrow to my colleague and he can offer you some repeating to try to to. Work, don't drink, and don't forget what I same to you. Good-bye."

Skvortsov, happy that he had place a person within the path of uprightness, patted Lushkov amiably on the shoulder, and even cask hands with him at parting.

Lushkov took the letter, departed, and from that point forward failed to come back to the back-yard for work.

Two years passed. sooner or later as Skvortsov was standing at the ticket-office of a theatre, paying for his price ticket, he saw beside him a touch man with a lambskin collar and a shabby cat's-skin cap. the person bashfully asked the clerk for a gallery price ticket and bought it with kopecks.

"Lushkov, is it you?" asked Skvortsov, recognizing within the very little man his former woodchopper. "Well, what are you doing? Are you older all right?"

"Pretty well. . . . i'm in an exceedingly notary's workplace currently. I earn xxxv roubles."

"Well, thank God, that's capital. I rejoice for you. I am very, very glad, Lushkov. You know, in a way, you're my godchild. it had been I WHO shoved you into the correct method. does one bear in mind what a scolding I gave you, eh? You nearly sank through the ground that point. Well, thank you, my expensive fellow, for memory my words."

"Thank you too," same Lushkov. "If I had not come back to you that day, perhaps I ought to be career myself a schoolmaster or a student still. Yes, in your house i used to be saved, and climbed out of Hell."

"I am terribly, very glad."

"Thank you for your kind words and deeds. What you same that day was wonderful. i'm grateful to you and to your cook, God bless that sort, noble-hearted girl. What you same that day was excellent; i'm indebted to you as long as I live, of course, however it had been your cook, Olga, WHO extremely saved American state."

"How was that?"

"Why, it had been like this. I wont to come back to you to cut wood and he or she would begin: 'Ah, you drunkard! You God-forsaken man! And however death doesn't take you!' so she would sit opposite American state, lamenting, wanting into my face and wailing: 'You unlucky fellow! you've got no happiness during this world, and within the next you'll burn in hell, poor drunkard! You poor tearful creature!' and he or she perpetually went on in this vogue, you know. however usually she upset herself, and the way several tears she shed over American state I can't tell you. however what affected American state most —she shredded the wood for me! does one apprehend, sir, I ne'er shredded one log for you—she did it all! however it had been she saved American state, however it had been I modified, viewing her, and gave up drinking, I can't make a case for. I solely apprehend that what she same and also the noble method she behaved caused a modification in my soul, and that i shall always remember it. It's time to travel up, though, they're simply visiting ring the bell."

Lushkov bowed and went off to the gallery.