IV
Viéra Pavlovna’s sewing union was established. The foundations were very simple at first—so simple, indeed, that it is not worth while to speak of them. Viéra Pavlovna did not make any rules at all for her first three seamstresses, except that she would pay them a trifle more than the regular seamstresses were getting at the shops. There was nothing particularly strange about the business; the seamstresses saw that Viéra Pavlovna was not a woman of mere words, not fickle; and therefore, without any hesitation they accepted her offer to work with her. There was no reason for hesitation in the fact that a woman of moderate means wanted to establish a sewing shop. These three girls found three or four more. They selected them with the same care with which Viéra Pavlovna proposed to them, and in these conditions of choice there was nothing worthy of suspicion; that is, there was nothing out of the ordinary run about it. A young and modest woman wishes the working girls in her establishment to be girls of straightforward character, kind, considerate, inclined to stay in one place; is there anything strange about that? She does not want any quarrels, that’s all; and therefore it’s clever of her, and nothing more. Viéra Pavlovna made acquaintance with these chosen girls; she became very well acquainted with them before she agreed to accept them; that was natural. It shows that she is a woman of sound common sense, and that’s all. There is nothing to deliberate about; there is nothing to distrust.
Thus they worked a month, receiving in due time the wages which had been agreed upon. Viéra Pavlovna was constantly at the shop, and they learned to look upon her as an economical, careful, and reasonable woman, with unusual consideration for them, and thus she won their full confidence. The was nothing extraordinary about that either, nor was anything noticeable except that the mistress was a good mistress, in whose hands the business would succeed; she knows how to manage.
But at the end of a month Viéra Pavlovna came into the shop one day with some kind of an account-book; she asked her seamstresses to stop work, and listen to what she had to say.
She began to speak, in very simple language, things which were comprehensible, very comprehensible, but which her seamstresses had never heard before, either from her or from anybody else.
“Now that we know each other well,” she began, “I can say of you that you are good workers and good girls. And you will not say that I am a fool. Consequently I can speak with you frankly about my ideas. If you should find anything strange in them, you will think carefully about them, and not insist that my ideas are foolish, because you know that I am not a foolish woman. This is the plan that I propose:—
“Good people say that it is possible to establish sewing shops where seamstresses might work to much greater profit to themselves than in those shops that we know about. And so I wanted to make an experiment. Judging by the first month, it appears that it can be done. You have been receiving your wages regularly, and now I want to tell you how much over and above your wages and all other expenses remain in my hands as clear profit.”
Viéra Pavlovna read over to them the debit and credit account for the month. In the expense account were reckoned, besides the wages paid, all other expenses—the rent of the shop, light, even down to Viéra Pavlovna’s charges for an izvoshchik, which she hired in the interests of the shop, and cost about a ruble.
“You see,” she continued, “there remains in my hands so much money. Now what am I going to do with it? I have established this sewing shop with the express purpose of letting the profits go to the very seamstresses by whose work it was earned. Therefore, I am going to divide it among you. This first time, all of you will get an equal share; each one of you her own. By and by we can see whether we cannot manage it better, or whether there isn’t some other way that will not be still more profitable for you.”
She divided the money.
For some time the seamstresses could not believe their senses, so great was their surprise; then they began to pour out their thanks. Viéra Pavlovna gave them sufficient time to express their gratitude for the division of the money, so that she might not hurt their feelings, by refusing to listen, for that would have looked like indifference to their opinions and inclinations; then she continued:—
“Now I must explain to you the hardest question of all; it will be sure to arise, and I do not know as I shall be able to make it plain to you. Yet I must speak about it. Why didn’t I keep the money, and what was my design in establishing the shop, if I did not intend to profit from the advantage arising from it? I live with my husband, as you know, and have a sufficiency: we are not rich, but we have all that we need. If I am in need of anything, all I have to do would be to ask my husband for it; and I should not even have to ask him, for he would see that I was in want of more money, and I should have it. He does not spend his time now in doing those things which bring him in most money, but in those things which he likes best. And as we love each other dearly, it pleases him most of all to do those things which I like, and it is the same with me. Therefore, if I should be short of money, he would undertake some business which would be more profitable than his present occupation, and he is able to find such a business, because he is a clever and an able man; but you have some idea of him, and the fact that he does not do so, is proof positive that the money which we both have is enough for us both. This is because I have no great hankering after money, for you know that different people have different desires, and not all care for money; some hanker after balls; some after fine dresses, or cards, and all such people are ready to ruin themselves for the sake of their passion, and a good many do ruin themselves, and no one is surprised that their passion is dearer to them than money. And my hobby happens to be this thing which I am trying to arrange with you, and I not only do not ruin myself for the sake of my hobby, but I do not even spend any money on it; I am only too glad to give up some of my time to it, and do not take any of the profit for myself. Well, now, according to my idea, there is nothing strange about this; for who expects to make any money out of his pet hobby? Everybody else even goes to expense for the sake of gratifying it, but I do not do that; I do not put any money out. Consequently, the advantage lies on my side, compared with others; for I ride my hobby and get pleasure out of it, without any loss to myself; whereas, others have to spend money for their pleasures. And why is it that I have this hobby? This is the reason: Kind and clever people have written many books about the way men should get along in this world; how all should have the chance to enjoy life, and our principal way, they say, consists in starting shops according to a new system. And so I want to see for myself whether we shall be able to start such a system as is needed. It is just the same as when one man wants to build a fine house, another, to plant a splendid garden, or orangery, so as to get pleasure out of them; so do I want to start a fine sewing shop, so that I may have pleasure in it.
“Of course, it would have been satisfactory enough, if I were to divide the profits among you every month, as I have just done; but clever people say that there is still a better way of doing it, so that there should be more profits, and the profits themselves should be used to much better advantage. They say that this can be very easily done. Now, we shall see. I shall tell you, by degrees, what can be done, according to the ideas of clever people; and if you yourselves will take notice, as you look on, and anything which promises well suggests itself to you, we can try to do it, little by little, according to circumstances. But I must confess to you, that without your aid, I cannot take this new step. Nothing new shall be tried without your approval. Clever men say that only what people themselves want to do turns out well. And I think so, too. Consequently, you need not fear any new departures; for everything will go on in the old way, unless you yourselves want to make a change. Without your own wish, nothing can be done.
“And now, this is my last order, as mistress of the shop, without your advice. You see that accounts must be kept, and care must be taken that there are no unnecessary expenses. Last month I managed the business myself, but henceforth, I do not want to take charge of it. Select two of your number to act in concert with me. I will not do anything without them. It is your money, and not mine; therefore, you must look after it. As yet, the thing is an experiment. It has not yet been shown who among you is most capable of managing it; so, for the time being, those who are selected must serve for only a short term, and in a week you will find out whether it will be necessary to select others, or leave the former in their places.”
Long discussions were awakened by these unusual words. But Viéra Pavlovna had already gained their confidence, and she spoke so simply, not going too far in advance, not conjuring up any extraordinary prospects, which, after a moment’s enthusiasm, would fade away into distrust, that the girls did not look upon her as a lunatic, and that was all that was required—that she should not be regarded as a lunatic. The experiment progressed slowly.
Of course it progressed slowly. Here is a short history of the shop for the first three years, during which it played the principal part in the life of Viéra Pavlovna herself.
The girls who at first made up the personelle of the new shop were carefully selected; they were good seamstresses; they were directly interested in the success of the scheme; therefore, it was natural that the work went on successfully. The shop never lost any of its customers who once entrusted it with orders. There was some envy manifested on the part of several shops and factories, but it did not produce the least effect except to oblige Viéra Pavlovna to take out a license to display a sign, so that there might not be any chicanery. Soon more orders began to come in than the girls who at first made up the union were able to fill, and thus they were obliged gradually to increase their numbers. At the end of a year and a half there were twenty girls in the union, and after that still more.
One of the first results of giving a decisive voice to the entire shop in the management of its business was a decision which might have been expected: in the very first month of their regime the girls decided that it would not do for Viéra Pavlovna to work without pay. When they announced this decision to her, she said that they were right. They wanted to give her the third part of the profits; she laid it aside for some time before she ventured to explain to them that it was diametrically opposed to the fundamental idea of their scheme. For some time they could not understand this; then afterwards they came to the conclusion that Viéra Pavlovna refused a special share of the profits, not from self-conceit, but from the nature of the experiment itself. By this time the shop had expanded to such dimensions that Viéra Pavlovna by herself was not able to attend to all the cutting, and so she had to get an assistant. They gave Viéra Pavlovna the same wages as the other cutter. The money which she had been laying aside was now, by her request, taken back into the common fund, with the exception of what was due her for her work as cutter; the balance was employed in the establishment of a bank. For about a year Viéra Pavlovna spent the larger part of each day at the shop, and really worked as hard as anyone else, according to the schedule of hours. When she saw the possibility of spending less time in the shop than a whole day, her wages were reduced in proportion.
How should the profits be divided? Viéra Pavlovna wanted to bring it about that the profits should be divided equally among them all. They consented to this only towards the middle of the third year; before that time they tried several different schemes. At first they divided the profits proportionally according to the wages earned by each; then they came to the conclusion that if a girl missed work for a few days on account of illness or any other important reason, it would not be fair to reduce her share of the division money, which, properly speaking, had not been gained during those few days, but by the general course of the work and the general state of the shop. Then they went a step further, and agreed that the cutters and other girls who received extra wages, by delivering orders and other duties, were already sufficiently paid by their extra wages, and that therefore it would be unfair for them to get proportionally more than the others also in their share of the profits. The ordinary seamstresses who had no extra duties were so modest that they did not ask for any charge, although they saw the injustice of the other arrangement, which was due to their own vote; the others who had this extra compensation felt the awkwardness of availing themselves of the extra division, and when they once came into the spirit of the scheme, they entirely refused it. It is necessary, however, to remark that this temporary modesty, the patience of the ones and the refusal of the others, was not a remarkable step, taking into the consideration the constant improvement in the affairs of both sides. The most difficult task of all was to develop the idea that the ordinary seamstresses were all entitled to an equal share in the profits, notwithstanding the fact that some of them were earning more wages than others; that seamstresses who were working more successfully than others were already sufficiently compensated for the success of their work by getting better wages. The last change in the way of dividing the profits was accomplished in the middle of the third year after the shop girls understood that the receiving of the profits was not the reward for the art of one or two of their number, but the result of the general character of the shop, the result of its arrangement, its aim—and this aim meant equality, so far as was possible, in the profits, for all participating in the work without regard to their personal peculiarities, that upon this character of the union depended the participation of the workers in the profits; but the character of the union, its spirit, its arrangement, consisted in the participation of all; and for this participation of all every member was a necessary factor. The silent acquiescence of the most hesitating and of the least gifted is no less beneficial for the preservation and development of the scheme, no less profitable for all of them, and for the success of the whole enterprise, than the active zeal of the most lively and gifted.
I omit a good many details because I am not describing the workshop, but I simply enter into it with sufficient fullness to illustrate Viéra Pavlovna’s activity. If I mention some details, it is only because I wanted to show how Viéra Pavlovna acted; how she conducted the business step by step, patiently and tirelessly, and how firmly she kept up to her rule not to show her hand as mistress, but to explain, to advise, to plan, to offer her assistance, to bring to a successful issue the decision of her cooperatives.
The profits were divided every month; at first each girl took her share and spent it separately apart from the others; each one had immediate necessities, and they were not in the habit of acting together. But when after constantly participating in the business, they had acquired the habit of understanding the entire procedure of the work in the shop, Viéra Pavlovna turned their attention to the fact that in their business the quantity of orders varied in different months of the year, and that therefore it would be advisable, during the most profitable months, to put away a portion of their profits against those months when the profits were not so great. The accounts were kept with great accuracy; the girls knew that if any one of them left the shop, she would get without any difficulty her share of the earnings remaining in the depository; therefore they consented to accede to this plan. A small reserve capital was established; it gradually grew; they began to look for various ways of applying it. From the very first, all understood that this reserve capital could be drawn upon in the way of loans by those members who had any extraordinary need of money, and that no interest would be charged for its use. Poor people have the idea that respectable help in money ought to be given without interest. After this bank was established, there followed a commission house for purchases; the girls found it more profitable to buy tea, coffee, sugar, foot wear, and many other things through this shop, as it bought goods not at retail but at wholesale, consequently cheaper. From this in a short time they branched out still further; they began to understand that it might also be possible to arrange for the purchase of the bread and provisions which they used to buy every day from the bakers and retail shops. But here they saw that to do this they must live in one neighborhood; they began to gather into circles, each circle occupying one suite, and they tried to get quarters near the shop; then the shop had to establish its agency to transact business with the bakeries and the stores. In a year and a half or so, almost all the girls were living in one large apartment, had one general table, and purchased their provisions in exactly the same way as is done in great establishments.
Half of the girls were lonely souls. Some of them had old women as relatives, mothers, or aunts; two supported aged fathers, and a good many had little brothers and sisters. On account of these family relationships three of the girls could not live in the general apartment: one of them had a mother whom it was impossible to get along with; the second had a mother who was a tchinóvnitsa, and did not want to live with peasant girls; the third had a drunken father. These only made use of the agency just the same as those seamstresses did who were not girls, but married women. But, apart from these three, all the other girls who had relatives to support lived in the general apartment. They lived by themselves in one suite, two or three in one room; but their male or female relatives were given rooms according to circumstances. Two old ones had separate rooms; all the other old women lived together. For the little boys there was a separate room, and two others for the little girls. It was decided that the little boys could stay until they were eight years old; those above that age would be put out to learn a trade.
There was an accurate account kept of everything, in order that the whole association might get used to the idea that no one was getting any advantage over anybody else, that they were not doing each other any harm. The accounts of the single girls in the apartment for rooms and board were very simple. After some hesitation, they decided to charge for a brother or sister, under eight years of age, the fourth part of the expenses of a grown-up girl, and that then the support of a girl until she was twelve was to be reckoned at one-third; after she was twelve, the price should be one-half of that of her sister. When the little girls should reach the age of thirteen, they should enter the shop as apprentices, if they did not succeed in establishing themselves otherwise; and it was decided that from sixteen and upwards they should enter as full members of the union, provided they were found to be skilful seamstresses. For the support of the grown-up relatives, as much, of course, was charged as for that of the seamstresses: for separate rooms there was an extra charge. Almost all the old women, and the three old men, who lived in the union apartment, busied themselves in the kitchen and in other domestic duties, and for this, of course, they were paid.
All this can be told very quickly in words, and in reality it seemed very easy, simple, and natural, when it was once accomplished. But everything was done very deliberately, and every new step cost a great many arguments, and every change was the result of a whole series of experiments. It would be very tedious and dry to describe the other details of the shop as particularly as we have told about the division of the profits. In regard to many points it is not necessary to speak at all, lest we should weary the reader; but we must briefly mention one or two other things. For instance, that the union had its agency for selling ready-made clothing, which was made at the time when they were not busy with orders. A separate store they could not as yet accomplish; but they made arrangements with one of the shops in the Gostinui Dvor. They established a little shop in the Pushing Market; two of the old women took charge of this little shop. But it is necessary to speak with a little more fullness about one side of the life of the union.
Viéra Pavlovna, from the very first, began to bring them books. After she had given her directions she began to read aloud. She would read half an hour, or an hour, if she were not interrupted by the necessity of giving out new work. Then the girls took a rest from listening; then followed some more reading, and another rest. It is hardly worth mentioning that the girls, from the very first, became interested in the reading; some of them had been fond of it even before. In two or three weeks, the reading during the working hours took the form of a regular course. In three or four months, two or three good readers were found, who were delegated to relieve Viéra Pavlovna, to read half an hour; and this half-hour was reckoned as regular work. When the duty of reading aloud was taken from Viéra Pavlovna, Viéra Pavlovna, who even before used to vary the monotony of reading by telling stories, began to speak oftener and more at length; then her stories turned into a channel resembling elementary courses in various branches of knowledge. Afterwards—and this was a very great step—Viéra Pavlovna saw the possibility of introducing a regular course of instruction. The girls became so ambitious to learn, and their work went on so successfully, that they decided to take, during their working day before dinner, a long rest for hearing the lessons.
“Alekséi Petróvitch,” said Viéra Petróvitch once, while she was at the Mertsálofs, “I have a favor that I want to ask of you. Natasha is already on my side. My sewing union is becoming a lyceum for all possible knowledge. Be one of its professors.”
“Well, what shall I teach? Latin or Greek or logic or rhetoric?” said Alekséi Petróvitch, laughing. “My specialty would not be very interesting, according to your opinion, and the opinion of another man whom you know.”
“Yes, you are needed, just because you are a specialist. You must serve as the buckler of morality and the special direction of our science.”
“That’s true. I see that without me there would be no morality. Give me a professorship.”
“For instance, Russian history or international history.”
“Capital! But I will read this subject up, and I shall be taken as a specialist. Excellent! Two occupations—to be a professor and a buckler.”
Natalia Andréyevna, Lopukhóf, two or three students, and Viéra Pavlovna herself were the other professors, as they called themselves in jest.
Together with the course of instructions, they also arranged for amusements. They had evening parties; they had picnics out of town—at first rarely, but afterwards, when they had more money, more frequently; they took boxes at the theatre. During the third winter they took ten places in the parquet circle during the Italian opera.
How delightful, how exciting this was to Viéra Pavlovna! there was much labor and care, and she also had disappointments. The misfortune that befell one of the best girls in the union powerfully affected not her alone, but the whole shop. Sáshenka Pribuitkova, one of the three girls whom Viéra Pavlovna herself found, was very handsome, and was very modest. She was engaged to a good and kind young man, who was a tchinovnik. Once, as she was walking on the street rather late, some gentleman accosted her. She hastened her steps. He followed her, and caught her by the arm. She snatched herself away from him and started to run; but by the motion of pulling away her arm, she hit his chest, and on the pavement was heard the ring of the polite gentleman’s watch. The polite gentleman caught Sáshenka with perfect self-possession, and with a feeling of legal right, and cried out, “Robbery! police!” Two policemen came and took Sáshenka to the station-house. Meantime, nothing was known in the shop as to what had become of her, and they could not imagine where she could be lost. On the fourth day a kind soldier, attached to the station-house, brought Viéra Pavlovna a note from Sáshenka. Lopukhóf immediately went off to see about it. He was treated insultingly; he gave them back in their own coin, and went off to Serge. Serge and Julie had gone out of town to a great picnic, and did not come back for two days. Two hours after his return, one of the officials begged Sáshenka’s pardon, and went to beg her bridegroom’s pardon into the bargain. But he could not find the young man. The bridegroom had been to see Sáshenka the evening before at the station, and having learned from the policemen who were placed in charge of her the name of the dandy (frant), went to him, and challenged him to a duel. Before he was challenged, the dandy apologized for his mistake in a very insulting tone; but after he had received the challenge, he burst into a peal of laughter. The tchinovnik said, “Here, then, you will not refuse this challenge,” and slapped him in the face; the dandy seized a stick; the tchinovnik hit him in the chest; the dandy fell to the ground, and his servants hurried to the noise. The barin was picked up dead; he had been knocked violently to the floor, and struck his cheek on the sharp corner of a table. The tchinovnik was put in prison, a criminal suit was instituted, and no end could be foreseen to this case. What was the result? There was no result; only, from that time, it was sad to look at Sáshenka. The shop had several other experiences; not criminal like this, but likewise not very gay. Very ordinary occurrences, such as cause girls long tears, and young or middle-aged men not long but pleasant recreation. Viéra Pavlovna knew that, according to the existing ideas and conditions, such occurrences were unavoidable; that young girls could not be kept in perfect safety, either by their own care or by that exercised by others. It is just the same way as it used to be in old times, in regard to smallpox, before people learned to get rid of it. Now, whoever suffers from smallpox, is himself to blame, and much more, those near to him; but once it was otherwise: no one was to blame except the miserable weather or the wretched town or village; for the person suffering from smallpox probably carried the contagion by not putting himself into quarantine, until he got well. The same thing is true now of these stories. Some time in the future people may get rid of this kind of smallpox also. Means have been found for it; but people are not yet ready to adopt it, just as it took a long time, a very long time, for people to be willing to adopt preventatives against the smallpox. Viéra Pavlovna knew that this miserable weather was to be found mainly in cities and towns, and it gets victims even from the most careful hands: but this is a very poor consolation, when you know only that “I am not to blame, my dear, for your sorrow; nor are you to blame, yourself.” Nevertheless, every one of these ordinary occurrences caused Viéra Pavlovna much grief, and still more labor. Sometimes it was necessary to look up the girls in order to help them; but more frequently there was no need of hunting; it was only necessary to help, to pacify, to restore courage, to bring back self-respect, to reason, to bid them cease weeping—“If you stop doing so, you will not need to weep.”
But her happiness was much more, oh, much more! Everything was happiness, except these sorrows; and these sorrows were only exceptional and rare occurrences. Today or a half-year you may be sorry for one; but at the same time you are glad for all others; and when two or three weeks have passed, you may be glad for this one too. Bright and gay was the ordinary course of the business, and it filled Viéra Pavlovna’s heart with constant happiness. And if sometimes things went hard owing to these griefs, yet exceptionally happy circumstances compensated for them; and these arose oftener than her griefs; for instance, they succeeded in establishing the young sisters or brothers of one or another of the girls; on the third year two girls passed their examinations as private teachers. What a happiness that was to them! There were several good things of this sort. But more often the cause of happiness for the whole shop, and for Viéra Pavlovna, was a marriage. There were a good many, and all were fortunate. The marriage passed off very gayly; there were evening parties before and after it, a good many surprises to the bride from her friends in the shop, and a dowry was given her from the reserve fund; and, then, again how much work Viéra Pavlovna had; she had her hands full, of course. One thing at first seemed to the shop indelicate on the part of Viéra Pavlovna: the first bride asked Viéra Pavlovna to be her nuptial godmother, but her request was not granted; the second did likewise, and was also refused. More often the bridal nuptial godmother was Mrs. Mertsálova or her mother, who was also a very nice lady; but Viéra Pavlovna always refused; she would help dress the bride, and escort her to the church, but only in the capacity of one of her friends. The first time they thought that the refusal was out of displeasure for something or other; but that was not so; Viéra Pavlovna was very glad of the invitation, only she did not accept it; the second time it was believed that it was from mere modesty; Viéra Pavlovna did not want to appear in public as the patroness of the bride. And, indeed, it was true that she avoided all appearances of being influential. She always took pains to bring others to the front, so that a good many of the ladies, who came to the shop to give order, could not distinguish her from the other cutters. But Viéra Pavlovna took the greatest delight when she was explaining to anyone that the whole establishment was founded and supported by the girls themselves. With these explanations she tried to convince herself of what she wanted to believe—that the shop could get along without her, so that, in time, other shops might be established of the same kind, entirely spontaneously; and why not? wouldn’t it be a good thing? It would be better than anything else; even without any leadership, outside of the rank of seamstresses, but by the thought and planning of the seamstresses themselves. This was Viéra Pavlovna’s pet dream.