The Wisdom of Children

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The Wisdom of Children

On Religion

Boy

Why is Nurse so nicely dressed today, and why did she make me wear that new shirt?

Mother

Because this is a holiday, and we are going to church.

Boy

What holiday?

Mother

Ascension day.

Boy

What does Ascension mean?

Mother

It means that Jesus Christ has ascended to heaven.

Boy

What does that mean: ascended?

Mother

It meant that He flew up to heaven.

Boy

How did he fly? With his wings?

Mother

Without any wings whatever. He simply flew up because He is God, and God can do anything.

Boy

But where did he fly to? Father told me there was nothing in heaven at all, and we only think we see something; that there’s nothing but stars up there, and behind them more stars still, and that there is no end to it. Then where did He fly to?

Mother

Smiling. You are unable to understand everything. You must believe.

Boy

What must I believe?

Mother

What you are told by grown-up people.

Boy

But when I said to you that somebody was going to die because some salt had been spilt, you said I was not to believe in nonsense.

Mother

Of course you are not to believe in nonsense.

Boy

But how am I to know what is nonsense and what is not?

Mother

You must believe what the true faith says, and not in nonsense.

Boy

Which is the true faith, then?

Mother

Our faith is the true one. To herself. I am afraid I am talking nonsense. Aloud. Go and tell father we are ready for church, and get your coat.

Boy

And shall we have chocolate after church?

On War

Karlchen Schmidt, nine years

Petia Orlov, ten years

Masha Orlov, eight years

Karlchen

… Because we Prussians will not allow Russia to rob us of our land.

Petia

But we say this land belongs to us; we conquered it first.

Masha

To whom? Is it ours?

Petia

You are a child, and you don’t understand. “To us” means to our state.

Karlchen

It is this way; some belong to one state and some to another.

Masha

What do I belong to?

Petia

You belong to Russia, like the rest of us.

Masha

And if I don’t want to?

Petia

It doesn’t matter whether you want to or not. You are Russian all the same. Every nation has its Tsar, its King.

Karlchen

Interrupting. And a parliament.

Petia

Each state has its army, each state raises taxes.

Masha

But why must each state stand by itself?

Petia

What a silly question! Because each state is a separate one.

Masha

But why must it exist apart?

Petia

Can’t you understand? Because everybody loves his own country.

Masha

I don’t understand why they must be separate from the rest. Wouldn’t it be better if they all kept together?

Petia

To keep together is all right when you play games. But this is no game: it is a very serious matter.

Masha

I don’t understand.

Karlchen

You will when you grow up.

Masha

Then I don’t want to grow up.

Petia

Such a tiny girl, and obstinate already, just like all of them.

On State and Fatherland

Gavrila, a soldier in the reserve, a servant

Misha, his master’s young son

Gavrila

Goodbye, Mishenka, my dear little master. Who knows whether God will permit me to see you again?

Misha

Are you really leaving?

Gavrila

I have to. There is war again. And I am in the reserve.

Misha

A war with whom? Who’s fighting, and who are they fighting against?

Gavrila

God knows. It’s very difficult to understand all that. I have read about it in the papers, but I can’t make it out. They say that someone in Austria has a grudge against us because of some favour he did to what’s-their-names.⁠ ⁠…

Misha

But what are you fighting for?

Gavrila

I am fighting for the Tsar, of course; for my country and the Orthodox Faith.

Misha

But you don’t wish to go to the war, do you?

Gavrila

Certainly not. To leave my wife and my children.⁠ ⁠… Do you suppose I would leave this happy life of my own free will?

Misha

Then why do you go? Tell them you don’t want to, and stop here. What can they do to you?

Gavrila

Laughing. What can they do? They will take me by force.

Misha

Who can take you by force?

Gavrila

Men who have to obey, and who are exactly in my position.

Misha

Why will they take you by force if they are in the same position?

Gavrila

Because of the authorities. They will be ordered to take me, and they will have to do it.

Misha

But suppose they don’t want to?

Gavrila

They have to obey.

Misha

But why?

Gavrila

Why? Because of the law.

Misha

What law?

Gavrila

You are a funny boy. It’s a pleasure to chat with you. But now I had better go and get the samovar ready. It will be for the last time.

On Taxes

The Bailiff

Grushka

Bailiff

Entering a poor cottage. Nobody is in except Grushka, a little girl of seven. He looks around him. Nobody at home?

Grushka

Mother has gone to bring home the cow, and Fedka is at work in the master’s yard.

Bailiff

Well, tell your mother the bailiff called. Tell her I am giving her notice for the third time, and that she must pay her taxes before Sunday without fail, or else I will take her cow.

Grushka

The cow? Are you a thief? We will not let you take our cow.

Bailiff

Smiling. What a smart girl, I say! What is your name?

Grushka

Grushka.

Bailiff

You are a good girl, Grushka. Now listen. Tell your mother that, although I am not a thief, I will take her cow.

Grushka

Why will you take our cow if you are not a thief?

Bailiff

Because what is due must be paid. I shall take the cow for the taxes that are not paid.

Grushka

What’s that: taxes?

Bailiff

What a nuisance of a girl! What are taxes? They are money paid by the people by the order of the Tsar.

Grushka

To whom?

Bailiff

The Tsar will look after that when the money comes in.

Grushka

He’s not poor, is he? We are the poor people. The Tsar is rich. Why does he want us to give him money?

Bailiff

He does not take it for himself. He spends it on us, fools that we are. It all goes to supply our needs⁠—to pay the authorities, the army, the schools. It is for our own good that we pay taxes.

Grushka

How does it benefit us if our cow is taken away? There’s no good in that.

Bailiff

You will understand that when you are grown-up. Now, mind you give your mother my message.

Grushka

I will not repeat all your nonsense to her. You can do whatever you and the Tsar want. And we shall mind our own business.

Bailiff

What a devil of a girl she will be when she grows up!

On Judging

Mitia, a boy of ten

Iliusha, a boy of nine

Sonia, a girl of six

Mitia

I told Peter Semenovich we could get used to wearing no clothes at all. And he said, “That is impossible.” Then I told him Michael Ivanovich said that just as we have managed to get our bare faces used to the cold, we could do the same with our whole body. Peter Semenovich said, “Your Michael Ivanovich is a fool.” He laughs. And Michael Ivanovich said to me only yesterday, “Peter Semenovich is talking a lot of nonsense. But, of course,” he added, “there’s no law for fools.” He laughs.

Iliusha

If I were you I would tell Peter Semenovich, “You abuse Michael Ivanovich, and he does the same to you.”

Mitia

No; but truly, I wish I knew which of them is the fool.

Sonia

They both are. Whoever calls another person a fool is a fool himself.

Iliusha

And you have called them both fools. Then you are one also.

Mitia

Well, I hate people saying things about each other behind their backs and never openly to their faces. When I am grown-up I shan’t be like that. I shall always say what I think.

Iliusha

So shall I.

Sonia

And I shall do just whatever I like.

Mitia

What do you mean?

Sonia

Why, I shall say what I think⁠—if I choose. And if I don’t choose, I won’t.

Iliusha

You’re a big fool, that is what you are.

Sonia

And you have just said you will never call people names. But of course.⁠ ⁠…

On Kindness

The children, Masha and Misha, are building a tent for their dolls in front of the house.

Misha

In an angry tone to Masha. No, not this. Bring that stick there. What a blockhead you are!

An Old Woman

Coming out of the house, crossing herself, and muttering. Jesus Christ reward her! What an angel! She has pity on everyone.

The Children cease to play, and look at the old woman.

Misha

Who is as good as all that?

Old Woman

Your mother. She has God in her soul. She pities us, the poor. She has given me a skirt⁠—and some tea, and money too. The Queen of Heaven save her! Not like that godless man. “Such a lot of you,” he says, “tramping about here.” And such savage dogs he has!

Misha

Who is that?

Old Woman

The man opposite. The wine merchant. A very unkind gentleman, I can tell you. But never mind. I am so thankful to the dear lady. She has given me presents, has relieved me, miserable creature that I am. How could we exist if it were not for such kind people? She weeps.

Masha

To Misha. How good she is!

Old Woman

When you are grown up, children, be as kind as she is to the poor. God will reward you. Exit.

Misha

How wretched she is!

Masha

I am so glad mother has given her something.

Misha

Why shouldn’t one give, if one has got plenty of everything oneself? We are not poor, and she is.

Masha

You remember, John the Baptist said: Whoever has two coats, let him give away one.

Misha

Oh, when I am grown up I will give away everything I have.

Masha

Not everything, I should think.

Misha

Why not?

Masha

But what would you have left for yourself?

Misha

I don’t care. We must always be kind. Then the whole world will be happy.

Misha stopped playing with his sister, went to the nursery, tore a page out of a copybook, wrote a line on it, and put it in his pocket. On that page was written: We Must Be Kind.

On Renumeration of Labour

The Father

Katia, a girl of nine

Fedia, a boy of eight

Katia

Father, our sledge is broken. Couldn’t you mend it for us?

Father

No, darling, I can not. I don’t know how to do it. Give it to Prohor; he will put it right for you.

Katia

We have asked him to already. He says he is busy. He is making a gate.

Father

Well, then, you must just wait a little with your sledge.

Fedia

And you, father, can’t you mend it for us, really?

Father

Smiling. Really, my boy.

Fedia

Can’t you do any work at all?

Father

Laughing. Oh yes, there are some kinds of work I can do. But not the kind that Prohor does.

Fedia

Can you make samovars like Vania?

Father

No.

Fedia

Or harness horses?

Father

Not that either.

Fedia

I wonder why are we all unable to do any work, and they do it all for us. Ought it to be like that?

Father

Everybody has to do the work he is fit for. Learn, like a good boy, and you will know what work everybody has to do.

Fedia

Are we not to learn how to prepare food and to harness horses?

Father

There are things more necessary than that.

Fedia

I know: to be kind, not to get cross, not to abuse people. But isn’t it possible to do the cooking and harness horses, and be kind just the same? Isn’t that possible?

Father

Undoubtedly. Just wait till you are grown up. Then you will understand.

Fedia

And what if I don’t grow up?

Father

Don’t talk nonsense!

Katia

Then we may ask Prohor to mend the sledge?

Father

Yes, do. Go to Prohor and tell him I wish him to do it.

On Drink

An evening in the autumn.

Makarka, a boy of twelve, and Marfutka, a girl of eight, are coming out of the house into the street. Marfutka is crying. Pavlushka, a boy of ten, stands before the house next door.

Pavlushka

Where the devil are you going to, both of you? Have you any night work?

Makarka

Crazy drunk again.

Pavlushka

Who? Uncle Prohor?

Makarka

Of course.

Marfutka

He is beating mother⁠—

Makarka

I won’t go inside tonight. He would hit me also. Sitting down on the doorstep. I will stay here the whole night. I will.

Marfutka weeps.

Pavlushka

Stop crying. Never mind. It can’t be helped. Stop crying, I say.

Marfutka

If I was the Tsar, I would have the people who give him any drink just beaten to death. I would not allow anybody to sell brandy.

Pavlushka

Wouldn’t you? But it is the Tsar himself who sells it. He doesn’t let anybody else sell it, for fear it would lessen his own profits.

Marfutka

It is a lie!

Pavlushka

Humph! A lie! You just ask anybody you like. Why have they put Akulina in prison? Because they did not want her to sell brandy and lessen their profits.

Makarka

Is that really so! I heard she had done something against the law.

Pavlushka

What she did against the law was selling brandy.

Marfutka

I would not allow her to sell it either. It is just that brandy that does all the mischief. Sometimes he is very nice, and then at other times he hits everybody.

Makarka

To Pavlushka. You say very strange things. I will ask the schoolmaster tomorrow. He must know.

Pavlushka

Do ask him.

The next morning Prohor, Makarka’s father, after a night’s sleep, goes to refresh himself with a drink; Makarka’s mother, with a swollen eye, is kneading bread. Makarka has gone to school. The Schoolmaster is sitting at the door of the village school, watching the children coming in.

Makarka

Coming up to the schoolmaster. Tell me, please, Eugene Semenovich, is it true, what a fellow was telling me, that the Tsar makes a business of selling brandy, and that is why Akulina has been sent to prison?

Schoolmaster

That is a very silly question, and whoever told you that is a fool. The Tsar sells nothing whatsoever. A tsar never does. As for Akulina, she was put in prison because she was selling brandy without a license, and was thereby lessening the revenues of the Crown.

Makarka

How lessening?

Schoolmaster

Because there is a duty on spirits. A barrel costs so much in the factory, and is sold to the public for so much more. This surplus constitutes the income of the state. The largest revenue comes from it, and amounts to many millions.

Makarka

Then the more brandy people drink the greater the income?

Schoolmaster

Certainly. If it were not for that income there would be nothing to keep the army with, or schools, or all the rest of the things you need.

Makarka

But if all those things are necessary, why not take the money directly for the necessary things? Why get it by means of brandy?

Schoolmaster

Why? Because that is the law. But the children are all in now. Take your seats.

On Capital Punishment

Peter Petrovich, a professor

Maria Ivanovna, his wife Sewing.

Fedia, their son, a boy of nine Listening to his father’s conversation.

Ivan Vasilievich, counsel for the prosecution in the court martial

Ivan Vasilievich

The experience of history cannot be gainsaid. We have not only seen in France after the revolution, and at other historical moments, but in our own country as well, that doing away with⁠—I mean the removal of perverted and dangerous members of society has in fact the desired result.

Peter Petrovich

No, we cannot know what the consequences of this are in reality. The proclamation of a state of siege is therefore not justified.

Ivan Vasilievich

But neither have we the right to presume that the consequences of a state of siege must be bad, or, if it proves to be so, that such consequences are brought about by the employment of a state of siege. This is one point. The other is that fear cannot fail to influence those who have lost every human sensibility and are like beasts. What except fear could have any effect on men like that one who calmly stabbed an old woman and three children in order to steal three hundred roubles?

Peter Petrovich

But I am not against capital punishment in principle; I am only opposed to the special courts martial which are so often formed. If these frequent executions did nothing but inspire fear, it would be different. But in addition they pervert the mind, and killing becomes a habit of thought.

Ivan Vasilievich

There again we don’t know anything about the remote consequences, but we do know, on the contrary, how beneficial.⁠ ⁠…

Peter Petrovich

Beneficial?

Ivan Vasilievich

Yes, how beneficial the immediate results are, and we have no right to deny it. How could society similarly fail to exact the penalty from such a wretch as⁠ ⁠…

Peter Petrovich

You mean society must take its revenge?

Ivan Vasilievich

No, the object is not revenge. On the contrary, it must substitute for personal revenge the penalty imposed for the good of the community.

Peter Petrovich

But in that case it must be subject to regulations settled by the law once forever, and not as a special order of things.

Ivan Vasilievich

The penalty imposed by the community is a substitute for casual, exaggerated revenge, in many cases ungrounded and erroneous, which a private individual might take.

Peter Petrovich

Passionately. Do you really mean to say the penalty imposed by society is never casual, is always well founded, is never erroneous? I cannot admit that. None of your arguments could ever convince me or anyone else that this is true of a state of siege, under which thousands have been executed⁠ ⁠… and under which executions are still going on⁠—that all this is both just and legal, and beneficial into the bargain! Rises and walks up and down in great agitation.

Fedia

To his mother. Mother, what is father talking about?

Maria Ivanovna

Father thinks it wrong that so many people are put to death.

Fedia

Do you mean really put to death?

Maria Ivanovna

Yes. He thinks it ought not to be done so frequently.

Fedia

Coming up to his father. Father, isn’t it written in the Ten Commandments: “Thou shalt not kill”? Doesn’t that mean you are not to kill at all?

Peter Petrovich

Smiling. That does not refer to what we are talking about. It only means that men are not to kill other men.

Fedia

But when they execute they kill, don’t they?

Peter Petrovich

Certainly. But the thing is to know why and when it is permissible.

Fedia

When is it?

Peter Petrovich

Why, think of a war, or of a great villain who has committed many murders. How could one leave him unpunished?

Fedia

But isn’t it written in the Gospel that we must love and forgive everybody?

Peter Petrovich

If we could do that it would be splendid. But that cannot be.

Fedia

Why?

Peter Petrovich

To Ivan Vasilievich, who listens to Fedia with a smile. As I said, dear Ivan Vasilievich, I cannot and will not admit the benefit of a state of siege and courts-martial.

On Prisons

Semka, a boy of thirteen

Aksutka, a girl of ten

Palashka, a girl of nine

Vanka, a boy of eight

They are sitting at the well, with baskets of mushrooms which they have gathered.

Aksutka

Aunt Matrena was crying so desperately. And the children too would not leave off howling, all at the same time.

Vanka

Why were they howling?

Palashka

What about? Why, their father has been taken off to prison. Who should cry but the family?

Vanka

Why is he in prison?

Aksutka

I don’t know. They came and told him to get his things ready and led him away. We saw it all from our cottage.

Semka

Serves him right for being a horse-stealer. He stole a horse from Demkin’s place and one from Hramov’s. He and his gang also got hold of our gelding. Who could love him for that?

Aksutka

That is all right, but I am sorry for the poor brats. There are four of them. And so poor⁠—no bread in the house. Today they had to come to us.

Semka

Serves the thief right.

Mitka

But he’s the only one that is the thief. Why must his children become beggars?

Semka

Why did he steal?

Mitka

The kids didn’t steal⁠—it is just he.

Semka

Kids indeed! Why did he do wrong? That doesn’t alter the case, that he has got children. Does that give him the right to be a thief?

Vanka

What will they do to him in prison?

Aksutka

He will just sit there. That’s all.

Vanka

And will they give him food?

Semka

That’s just the reason why they’re not afraid, those damned horse-thieves! He doesn’t mind going to prison. They provide him with everything and he has nothing to do but sit idle the whole day long. If I were the Tsar, I would know how to manage those horse-thieves.⁠ ⁠… I would teach them a lesson that would make them give up the habit of stealing. Now he has nothing to worry him. He sits in the company of fellows like himself, and they teach each other how to steal. Grandfather said Petrusha was quite a good boy when he went to prison for the first time, but he came out a desperate villain. Since then he’s taken to⁠—

Vanka

Then why do they put people in prison?

Semka

Just ask them.

Aksutka

He will have all his food given to him⁠—

Semka

Agreeing. So he will get more accustomed to finding the food ready for him!

Aksutka

While the kiddies and their mother have to die of starvation. They are our neighbours; we can’t help pitying them. When they come 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 to insult. The more anyone insulted him the more he loved the offender. They abused him, and he praised them. They hit him and he helped them. Uncle said that anybody who acts so feels very happy. I liked what he said, and I wanted to be like that man. So, when Grisha hit me yesterday, I remembered my wish and kissed Grisha. He burst out crying. I felt very happy. But with nurse yesterday it was different; she began scolding me, and I quite forgot how I ought to have behaved, and I answered her very rudely. What I wish now is to have the same experience over again that I had with Grisha.

Masha

Then you would like somebody to strike you?

Vania

I would like it awfully. I would immediately do what I did to Grisha, and I would be so glad.

Masha

How stupid! Just like the fool you’ve always been.

Vania

I don’t mind being a fool. I only know now what to do, so as to feel happy all the time.

Masha

A regular fool! Do you really feel happy, doing so?

Vania

Just awfully happy!

On the Press

The schoolroom at home.

Volodia, a schoolboy of fourteen, is reading; Sonia, a girl of fifteen, is writing. The Yard-Porter enters, carrying a heavy load on his back; Misha, a boy of eight, following him.

Porter

Where am I to put that bundle, sir? My shoulders are bent down with the weight of it.

Volodia

Where were you told to put it?

Porter

Vasily Timofeëvich told me to carry it to the schoolroom and leave it for him.

Volodia

Then put it in the corner.

Porter unloads the bundle and sighs heavily.

Sonia

What is it?

Volodia

Truth⁠—a paper.

Misha

Truth? What do you mean?

Sonia

Why have you so many?

Volodia

It is a collection of the whole year’s issues. Continues reading.

Misha

Has all this been written?

Porter

The fellows who wrote it weren’t very lazy, I’ll bet.

Volodia

Laughs. What did you say?

Porter

I said what I meant. It wasn’t a lazy lot that wrote all that. Well, I’m going. Will you kindly say I have brought the bundle. Exit.

Sonia

To Volodia. What does father want all those papers for?

Volodia

He wants to collect Bolchakov’s articles from them.

Sonia

And Uncle Michael Ivanovich says reading Bolchakov makes him ill.

Volodia

Just like Uncle Michael Ivanovich. He only reads Truth for All.

Misha

And is uncle’s Truth as big as this?

Sonia

Bigger. But this is only for one year, and the papers have been published twenty years or more.

Misha

That makes twenty such bundles and another twenty more.

Sonia

Wishing to mystify Misha. That’s nothing. These are only two papers, and besides there are at least thirty more.

Volodia

Without raising his head. Thirty, you say! There are five hundred and thirty in Russia alone. And with those published abroad there are thousands altogether.

Misha

They couldn’t all be put into this room.

Volodia

Not even in this whole street. But please don’t disturb me in my work. Tomorrow teacher is sure to call upon me, and you don’t give me a chance of learning my lessons with your silly talk. Resumes his reading.

Misha

I don’t think there’s any use writing so much.

Sonia

Why not?

Misha

Because if what they write is true, then why say the same thing over and over again? If it isn’t, then why say what is not true?

Sonia

An excellent judgment!

Misha

Why do they write such an awful lot?

Volodia

Without taking his eyes off his book. Because if it wasn’t for the freedom of the press, how would people know what the truth is?

Misha

Father says the Truth contains the truth, and Uncle Michael Ivanovich says Truth makes him ill. Then how do they know where the truth really is⁠—in Truth or in Truth for All?

Sonia

I think you are right. There are really too many papers and magazines and books.

Volodia

Just like a woman: perfectly senseless in every conclusion!

Sonia

I only mean that when there is so much written it is impossible to know anything really.

Volodia

But everybody has brains given him to find out where the truth is.

Misha

Then if everybody has got brains he can reason things out for himself.

Volodia

So that’s how you reason with your large supply of brains! Please go somewhere else and leave me alone to work.

On Repentance

Volia, a boy of eight, stands in the passage with an empty plate and cries. Fedia, a boy of ten, comes running into the passage.

Fedia

Mother sent me to see where you were; but what are you crying for? Have you brought nurse⁠ ⁠… Sees the empty plate, and whistles. Where is the cake?

Volia

I⁠—I⁠—I wanted it, I⁠—and then suddenly⁠—Boo-hoo-hoo! All of a sudden I ate it up⁠—without meaning to.

Fedia

Instead of taking it to nurse, you have eaten it yourself on the way! Well I never! Mother thought you wanted nurse to have the cake.

Volia

I did and then suddenly, without meaning to.⁠—Boo-hoo-hoo!

Fedia

You just tasted it, and then you ate the whole of it. Well, I never! Laughs.

Volia

It is all very well for you to laugh, but how am I going to tell.⁠ ⁠… Now I can’t go to nurse⁠—or to mother either.

Fedia

A nice mess you have made of it, I must say. Ha, ha! So you have eaten the whole cake? It is no use crying. Just try to think of some way of getting out of it.

Volia

I can’t see how I can. What shall I do?

Fedia

Fancy that! Trying to restrain himself from laughing. A pause.

Volia

What am I to do now? I am lost. Howls.

Fedia

Don’t you care. Stop that howling. Simply go to mother and tell her you have eaten the cake yourself.

Volia

That is worse.

Fedia

Then go and confess to nurse.

Volia

How can I?

Fedia

Listen; you wait here. I will find nurse and tell her. She won’t mind.

Volia

No, don’t. I cannot let her know about it.

Fedia

Nonsense. You did it by mistake; it can’t be helped. I will tell her in a minute. Runs away.

Volia

Fedia, Fedia, wait! He is gone⁠—I just tasted it, and then I don’t remember how I did it. What am I to do now! Sobbing.

Fedia

Comes running back. Stop your bawling, I say. I told you nurse would forgive you. She only said, “Oh, the darling!”

Volia

She is not cross with me?

Fedia

Not a bit. She said, “I don’t care for the cake; I would have given it to him anyhow.”

Volia

But I didn’t mean to eat it. Cries again.

Fedia

Why are you crying again? We won’t tell mother. Nurse has quite forgiven you.

Volia

Nurse has forgiven me. I know she is kind and good. But me, I am a wicked boy, and that’s what makes me cry.

On Art

Footman

Housekeeper

Natasha (a little girl)

Footman

With a tray. Almond milk for the tea, and rum⁠—

Housekeeper

Knitting a stocking and counting the stitches. Twenty-three, twenty-four⁠—

Footman

I say, Avdotia Vasilievna, can’t you hear?

Housekeeper

I hear, I hear. I’ll give it to you presently. I can’t tear myself to pieces to do all kinds of work at the same moment. To Natasha. Yes, darling; I will bring you the prunes presently. Just wait a moment, till I have given him the milk. Strains the almond milk.

Footman

Sitting down. I tell you I have seen something tonight. To think that they pay good money for that!

Housekeeper

Oh, you have been to the theatre. You were out late tonight.

Footman

An opera is always a long affair. I have always to wait hours and hours. Tonight they were kind, and let me in to see the performance.

The kitchen-maid, the manservant Pavel enters with the cream and stands listening.

Housekeeper

Then there was singing tonight?

Footman

Singing⁠—humph! Just silly, loud screaming, not a bit like real singing. “I,” he said⁠—“I love her so much.” And he puts it all to a tune, and it is not like anything under heaven. Then they had a row, and ought to have fought it out; but they started singing instead.

Housekeeper

And yet I’ve heard it costs a lot to get seats for the season.

Footman

Our box cost three hundred roubles for twelve nights.

Pavel

Shaking his head. Three hundred! And who does that money go to?

Footman

Why, the people who sing are paid for it. I was told a lady singer makes fifty thousand a year.

Pavel

You talk of thousands⁠—why, three hundred is a pile of money in the country. Some folks toil their whole life long, and can’t even get together one hundred.

Nina, a schoolgirl, enters the servants’ pantry.

Nina

Is Natasha here? Why don’t you come? Mother wants you.

Natasha

Munching a prune. I am coming.

Nina

To Pavel. What were you saying about a hundred roubles?

Housekeeper

Simeon pointing to the footman was just telling us about the singing he listened to tonight in the theatre, and about the lady singers being paid such a lot of money. That’s what made Pavel wonder. Is that really true, Nina Mikhailovna, that a lady may get fifty thousand for her singing?

Nina

More than that. A lady has been engaged to sing in America for a hundred and fifty thousand roubles. But even better than that, yesterday’s paper says a musician has been paid fifty thousand roubles for his fingernail.

Pavel

The papers write all sorts of nonsense. That couldn’t be. How could he be paid that?

Nina

Evidently pleased. He was, I tell you.

Pavel

Just for a fingernail?

Natasha

How is that possible?

Nina

He was a pianist, and was insured for that amount in case anything happened to his hand, and he couldn’t go on playing the piano.

Pavel

Well, I’ll be blowed!

Senichka

A schoolboy in the upper class of the school, entering the pantry. You’ve got a regular meeting here. What is it all about?

Nina tells him what they have been talking about.

Senichka

With still more complacency than Nina. That story of the nail is nothing at all. Why, a dancer in Paris had her foot insured for two hundred thousand roubles, in case she sprained it and was not able to go on dancing.

Footman

That’s them girls⁠—excuse me for mentioning it⁠—that work with their legs without any stockings on.

Pavel

You call that work! And they are paid for it!

Senichka

But everyone cannot do that kind of work⁠—and she had to study a good many years.

Pavel

What did she study that did any good? Mere hopping about?

Senichka

You don’t understand. Art is a great thing.

Pavel

I think it is all nonsense. People spend money like that because they have such an easy time. If they had to bend their backs as we do to make a living, there wouldn’t be all these singing and dancing girls. They ain’t worth anything⁠—but what is the use of saying so?

Senichka

There we have the outcome of ignorance. To him Beethoven and Viardot and Rafael are utter folly.

Natasha

Well, I think what he says is so.

Nina

Come, let’s go.

On Science

Two schoolboys, one a pupil of the real gymnasium and the other of the classical gymnasium

Two twins, brothers of the latter; Volodia and Petrusha, eight years of age

Science Scholar

What do I want with Latin and Greek, when everything of any value has been translated into the modern languages?

Classical Scholar

You will never understand the Iliad unless you read it in Greek.

Science Scholar

But I don’t see the use of reading it. I don’t want to.

Volodia

What is the Iliad?

Science Scholar

A story.

Classical Scholar

Yes, a story, but one that has not its equal in the world.

Petrusha

What is it that makes the story so particularly good?

Science Scholar

Nothing. It is just a story, and nothing else.

Classical Scholar

Yes; but you cannot really understand antiquity without a knowledge of this story.

Science Scholar

I consider that a superstition just like religious instruction.

Classical Scholar

Getting excited. Religious instruction is nothing but lies and nonsense, while this is history and wisdom.

Volodia

Is religious instruction all nonsense?

Classical Scholar

Why do you sit there listening to our talk? You can’t understand.

Both Boys

Hurt. Why shouldn’t we?

Volodia

Perhaps we understand things better than you do.

Classical Scholar

Very well. Just be quiet, and don’t interrupt. To the Science Scholar. You say Latin and Greek is of no use in life: but that applies as well to bacteriology, to chemistry, to physics, and astronomy. Why is it necessary to know anything about the distance of the stars, about their size, and all those unnecessary details?

Science Scholar

Unnecessary? On the contrary, they are very necessary indeed.

Classical Scholar

What for?

Science Scholar

Why, for everything. Take navigation. You would think that had not much to do with astronomy. But look at the practical results of science⁠—the way it is applied to agriculture, to medicine, to the industries⁠—

Classical Scholar

On the other hand, it is used also in making bombs, for purposes of war, and for revolutionary objects as well. If science contributed to the moral improvement, then⁠—

Science Scholar

But what about your sort of knowledge? Does that raise the moral standard?

Volodia

Is there any science that makes people better?

Classical Scholar

I told you not to interfere in the discussions of grown-up people. You say nothing but silly things.

Volodia and Petrusha

With one voice. Not so silly as you imagine.⁠ ⁠… Just tell us which science teaches people how to be good.

Science Scholar

There isn’t such a science. Everybody has to find that out for himself.

Classical Scholar

What is the use of talking to them? They don’t understand.

Science Scholar

Why not? They might. How to be good, Volodia and Petrusha, is not taught in schools.

Volodia

Well, if that is not taught, it is no use going to school.

Petrusha

When we are grown up we will not learn useless things.

Volodia

As for the right way to live, we’ll do that better than you.

Classical Scholar

Laughing. Oh, the wisdom of that conclusion!

On Going to Law

A Peasant

His Wife

A Kinswoman

Fedia, the peasant’s son, a lad of nineteen

Petka, another son, a boy of nine

Father

Entering the cottage and taking off his cloak. What beastly weather! I could hardly manage to get home.

Mother

And such a long way for you. It must be nearly fifteen miles.

Father

Not less than twenty, I can tell you. To his son, Fedia. Take the colt to the stable.

Mother

Well, have we won?

Peasant

We have not, damn it all. It will never come right.

Kinswoman

But what is it all about, cousin? I don’t quite understand.

Peasant

It is simply that Averian has taken possession of my vegetable garden and is holding it. And I can’t get at him in the right way.

Wife

That lawsuit has been dragging along over a year now.

Kinswoman

I know, I know. I remember as far back as Lent, when the matter was before the village court. My man told me it had been settled in your favour.

Peasant

That finished it, didn’t it? But Averian appealed to the head of the Zemstvo, and he had the whole business gone into again. I then appealed to the judge and won. That ought to have been the end of it. But it wasn’t. After that he won. Nice sort of judges they are!

Wife

What are we to do now?

Peasant

I won’t stand his having my property. I will appeal to the higher court, I have already had a talk with a lawyer.

Kinswoman

But suppose they take his side in the upper court?

Peasant

Then I’ll go to the Supreme Court. I’ll sell my last cow before I’ll give in to that fat hound. I’ll teach him a lesson.

Kinswoman

A lot of trouble comes from these trials, a lot of trouble, I declare! And suppose he wins again?

Peasant

Then I’ll appeal to the Tsar. Now I had better go out and give the pony some hay. Exit.

Petka

Why do they judge like that, some saying Averian is right and some daddy?

Mother

Probably because they don’t know who is right themselves.

Petka

Then why ask them, if they don’t know?

Mother

Because nobody wants to give up his property.

Petka

When I grow up, I will do like this: If I have a dispute with somebody, we will cast lots and see who wins. And that will settle it. We always settle it this way with Akulika.

Kinswoman

Don’t you think, cousin, that is quite a good way? One sin less, anyhow.

Mother

Quite so. What a lot we have spent on that trial! More than the whole vegetable garden is worth. Oh, it is a sin, a great sin!

On the Criminal Court

Children: Grishka, Semka, Jishka

Jishka

Serves him right. Why did he make his way into another person’s corn loft? When he is put in prison that will teach him not to do it another time.

Semka

Of course if he has really done it. But old Mikita said Mitrofan was run into prison without being guilty.

Jishka

Without being guilty? And won’t anything happen to the man who judged him falsely?

Grishka

Well, they won’t pat him on the head for it, of course. If he hasn’t judged according to law he will be punished too.

Semka

Who will punish him?

Jishka

Those above him.

Semka

Who are above him?

Grishka

His superiors.

Jishka

And if the superiors also make a mistake?

Grishka

There are higher powers above them, and they will be punished by these. That’s what the Tsar is for.

Jishka

But if the Tsar judges wrong, who is going to punish him?

Grishka

Who? Why do you ask that? Don’t you know?

Semka

God will punish him.

Jishka

God will also punish him who stole the corn from the loft. Then why not leave it to God to punish those who are guilty? He will not judge wrong.

Grishka

It’s clear that that is not possible.

Jishka

Why not?

Grishka

Because⁠ ⁠…

On Property

An old carpenter is mending the railings on a veranda. A boy of seven, the son of the master of the house, is watching the man working.

Boy

How well you work! What is your name?

Carpenter

My name? They used to call me Hrolka, and now they call me Hrol, and even Hrol Savich when they speak respectfully.

Boy

How well you work, Frol Savich.

Carpenter

As long as you have to work, you may as well do good work.

Boy

Have you got a veranda in your house?

Carpenter

In our house? We have a veranda, my boy, yours here is nothing to compare with it. A veranda with no windows. And if you step on to it, well, you can’t believe your eyes. That’s the kind of veranda we’ve got.

Boy

You are making fun. No, seriously, tell me: have you a veranda like this? I want to know.

Carpenter

My dear child, how can the likes of us have a veranda? It’s a blessing if we’ve a roof over our heads, and you say, “a veranda!” I’ve been thinking about having a roof built ever since last spring. I’ve just managed to pull down the old one, but the new one isn’t finished, and the house is standing there and getting damp ithout it.

Boy

Surprised. But why?

Carpenter

Why? Just because I am not able to do it.

Boy

How so? If you are able to work for us?

Carpenter

I can work all right for you, but not for myself.

Boy

Why? I can’t understand. Please explain.

Carpenter

You will understand when you are grown up. I am able to do your work, but as for my own, I can’t do it.

Boy

But why?

Carpenter

Because I need wood for that, and I haven’t got any. It has to be bought. I have nothing to buy it with. When I have finished my work here, and your mother pays me, just you tell her to pay me well. Then I’ll drive to the forest, get five ash-trees or so to bring home and finish my roof.

Boy

Do you mean you haven’t a forest of your own?

Carpenter

We have such big forests that you can walk three whole days and not reach the end. But, worse luck, they don’t belong to us.

Boy

Mother says all her trouble comes from our forest; she has continual worries about it.

Carpenter

That’s the worst of it. Your mother is worried by having too much wood, and I’m worried by having none at all. But here I am gabbling with you and forgetting my work. And the likes of us don’t get made much of for doing that. Resumes his work.

Boy

When I grow up I shall arrange to have just the same as everybody else, so that all of us are equal.

Carpenter

Mind you grow up quickly, that I may still be alive. Then, mind you, don’t forget.⁠ ⁠… Where have I put my plane?

On Children

A Lady with her children⁠—a Schoolboy of fourteen, a girl of five, Janichka, are walking in the garden. An Old Peasant Woman approaches them.

Lady

What do you want, Matresha?

Old Woman

I have come again to ask a favour of your ladyship.

Lady

What is it?

Old Woman

I am simply ashamed to speak, your ladyship, but that don’t help. My daughter, the one for whom you stood godmother, has got another baby. God has given her a boy this time. She sent me to ask your ladyship if you would do her a favour, and have the child christened into our Orthodox faith.

Lady

But didn’t she have a child very recently?

Old Woman

Well, that’s just as you think. A year ago in Lent.

Lady

How many grandchildren have you got now?

Old Woman

I could hardly tell you, dear lady. All of them are still babes. Such a misfortune!

Lady

How many children has your daughter?

Old Woman

This is the seventh child, your ladyship, and all alive. I wish God had taken some back to Him.

Lady

How can you speak like that?

Old Woman

I can’t help it. That’s how one comes to sin. But then our misery is so great. Well, your ladyship, are you willing to help us, and stand godmother to the child? Believe me, on my soul, lady, we have not even got anything to pay the priest; bread itself is scarce in the house. All the children are small. My son-in-law is working away from home, and I am alone with my daughter. I am old, and she is expecting or nursing the whole time, and what work can you ask her to do with all that? So it is me that has to do everything. And that hungry lot all the while asking for food.

Lady

Are there really seven children?

Old Woman

Seven, your ladyship, sure. Just the eldest girl begins to help a bit; all the rest are little.

Lady

But why do they have such a lot of children?

Old Woman

How can one help that, dear lady? He comes now and then for a short stay, or just for a feast day. They are young, and he lives near in town. I wish he had to go somewhere far away.

Lady

That’s the way! Some people are sad because they have no children, or their children die, and you complain of having too many.

Old Woman

They are too many. We have not the means to keep them. Well, your ladyship, may I cheer her up with your consent?

Lady

Well, I will stand godmother to this one like the others. It is a boy, you say?

Old Woman

It’s a small baby, but very strong; he’s got good lungs. What day do you order the christening to be?

Lady

Whenever you like.

Old Woman thanks her and goes.

Janichka

Mother, why is it that some people have children and some have not? You have, Matresha, has, but Parasha hasn’t any.

Lady

Parasha is not married. People have children when they are married. They marry, become husband and wife, and then only children come.

Janichka

Do they always get children then?

Lady

No, not always. Our cook has a wife, but they have no children.

Janichka

Couldn’t it be arranged that only those who want children should have them, and those who don’t want them should have none?

Schoolboy

What nonsense you talk!

Janichka

That is not nonsense at all. I only thought that if Matresha’s daughter doesn’t want to have children, it ought to be arranged so that she shouldn’t have any. Couldn’t it be arranged, mother?

Schoolboy

Have I not told you not to talk nonsense about things you know nothing about?

Janichka

Mother, could it be arranged as I say?

Lady

I don’t know: we never know about that. It all depends on the will of God.

Janichka

But how do children come into the world?

Schoolboy

The goat brings them.

Janichka

Hurt. Why do you tease me? I don’t see anything to laugh at in what I am saying. But I do think that since Matresha says they are worse off for having children, it ought to be managed so that no children should be born to her. There is Nurse who has none.

Lady

But she is not married.

Janichka

Then all those that do not care for children ought not to marry. As it is now, children are born and people have nothing to feed them with. The mother exchanges a glance with her son, and does not answer. When I am grown up I will marry by all means, and I shall see that I have one girl and one boy, and no more. Do you think it is nice when children are born and people don’t care for them? As for mine, I shall love them dearly. Don’t you think so, mother? I will go and ask Nurse. Exit.

Lady

To her son. Yes, truth flows from the lips of children. What she says is a great truth. If people would understand how serious marriage is, instead of regarding it as amusement⁠—if they would marry not for their own sake, but for the sake of the children⁠—then all these horrors would not exist. There would be no children suffering from neglect or distress, nor would such cases happen as that of Matresha’s daughter, where children bring sorrow in place of joy.

On Education

The Yard Porter is cleaning the handles of the doors. Katia, a girl of seven, is building a house with blocks. Nicholas, a schoolboy of fifteen, enters with a book and throws it angrily on the floor.

Nicholas

To the devil with that damned school!

Porter

What is the matter with it?

Nicholas

Again a bad mark. That means more new trouble. Damn it all! What do I want their cursed geography for? California⁠—why is it necessary to know about California?

Porter

What will they do to you?

Nicholas

They will keep me another year in that same old class.

Porter

Then why don’t you learn your lessons?

Nicholas

Why? Because I can’t learn the stupid things. Damn it all! Throwing himself on a chair. I’ll go and tell mother. I’ll tell her I can’t do it. Let them do whatever they like but I can’t do it. And if after that she doesn’t take me out of school I will run away from home. I swear I will.

Porter

But where will you go?

Nicholas

Just away. I will look out for a place as a coachman, or a yard porter. Anything is better than having to learn that cursed nonsense.

Porter

But to be a yard porter is not an easy job either, I can tell you. A porter has to get up early, chop wood, carry it in, make fires⁠—

Nicholas

Whew! Whistles. But that is like a holiday. I love chopping wood. I simply adore it. No, that would not stop me. No, you just try what it is to learn geography.

Porter

You’re right there. But why do you learn it? What use is it to you? Is it that they make you do it?

Nicholas

I wish I knew why. It is of no use whatever. But that’s the rule. They think one cannot do without it.

Porter

I dare say it is necessary for you in order to become an official, to get honours, high appointments, like your father and uncle.

Nicholas

But since I don’t care for all that.

Katia

Since he does not care!

Enter Mother, with a letter in her hand.

Mother

I have just heard from the director of the school that you have got a bad mark again. That won’t do, Nikolenka. It must be one thing or the other: learn or not learn.

Nicholas

I’ll stick to the one: I cannot, I cannot, I cannot learn. For God’s sake, let me go. I cannot learn.

Mother

You cannot learn?

Nicholas

I cannot. It won’t get into my head.

Mother

That is because your head is full of nonsense. Don’t think about all your stupid things, but concentrate your mind on the lessons you have to learn.

Nicholas

Mother, I am talking seriously. Take me away from school. I wish for nothing else in the world but to get rid of that dreadful school, of that treadmill! I can’t stand it.

Mother

But what would you do out of school?

Nicholas

That is my own business.

Mother

It is not your own business, but mine. I have to answer to God for you. I must give you an education.

Nicholas

But since I cannot.

Mother

Severely. What nonsense to say you cannot. For the last time, I will speak to you like a mother. I beseech you to mend your ways and to do what is required of you. If you will not obey me this time I shall take other measures.

Nicholas

I tell you, I cannot and I will not learn.

Mother

Take care, Nicholas.

Nicholas

Why should I take care? Why do you torture me? Don’t you see you do!

Mother

I forbid you to speak like that. How dare you! Go away! You will see⁠—

Nicholas

Very well⁠—I will go. I am not afraid of whatever comes, and I don’t want anything from you. Dashes out of the room and bangs the door.

Mother

To herself. How unhappy he makes me. I know exactly how it has all come about. It is all because he does not think about the things he ought to do, and his head is full of nothing but his own stupid interests, his dogs, and his hens.

Katia

But, mother, you remember the tale you told me: how impossible it is not to think about the white polar bear when you are told not to.

Mother

I am not speaking of that; I say a boy has to learn when he is told to.

Katia

But he says he cannot.

Mother

That’s nonsense.

Katia

But he does not say he is not willing to do any work whatever. He only objects to learning geography. He wants to work, to be a coachman, a yard-porter.

Mother

If he had been a yard-porter’s son he might become one himself. But being your father’s son he must learn.

Katia

But he does not want to.

Mother

Whether he wants to or not he must obey.

Katia

And if he simply cannot learn?

Mother

Take care that you are not like him yourself.

Katia

That’s just what I want to be. I shall not, on any condition, learn what I do not wish to.

Mother

Then you will grow up a fool.

Katia

And when I am grown up, and have children, I will never compel them to learn. If they want to they may learn, if not, let them do without learning.

Mother

When you are grown up, you will be sure to have changed your mind.

Katia

I shall certainly not.

Mother

You will.

Katia

No, I shall not, I shall not.

Mother

Then you will be a fool.

Katia

Nurse says God wants fools also.