Best Russian Short Stories eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 283 pages of information about Best Russian Short Stories.

“What!  What does that mean?”

“Nothing.  I don’t want the place.  I will look for another one for myself.”

Yegor flew into a rage.

“Did you mean to make a fool of me, did you, you idiot?  You come here so meek—­’Try for me, do try for me’—­and then you refuse to take the place.  You rascal, you have disgraced me!”

Gerasim found nothing to say in reply.  He reddened, and lowered his eyes.  Yegor turned his back scornfully and said nothing more.

Then Gerasim quietly picked up his cap and left the coachman’s room.  He crossed the yard rapidly, went out by the gate, and hurried off down the street.  He felt happy and lighthearted.

ONE AUTUMN NIGHT

BY MAXIM GORKY

Once in the autumn I happened to be in a very unpleasant and inconvenient position.  In the town where I had just arrived and where I knew not a soul, I found myself without a farthing in my pocket and without a night’s lodging.

Having sold during the first few days every part of my costume without which it was still possible to go about, I passed from the town into the quarter called “Yste,” where were the steamship wharves—­a quarter which during the navigation season fermented with boisterous, laborious life, but now was silent and deserted, for we were in the last days of October.

Dragging my feet along the moist sand, and obstinately scrutinising it with the desire to discover in it any sort of fragment of food, I wandered alone among the deserted buildings and warehouses, and thought how good it would be to get a full meal.

In our present state of culture hunger of the mind is more quickly satisfied than hunger of the body.  You wander about the streets, you are surrounded by buildings not bad-looking from the outside and—­you may safely say it—­not so badly furnished inside, and the sight of them may excite within you stimulating ideas about architecture, hygiene, and many other wise and high-flying subjects.  You may meet warmly and neatly dressed folks—­all very polite, and turning away from you tactfully, not wishing offensively to notice the lamentable fact of your existence.  Well, well, the mind of a hungry man is always better nourished and healthier than the mind of the well-fed man; and there you have a situation from which you may draw a very ingenious conclusion in favour of the ill fed.

The evening was approaching, the rain was falling, and the wind blew violently from the north.  It whistled in the empty booths and shops, blew into the plastered window-panes of the taverns, and whipped into foam the wavelets of the river which splashed noisily on the sandy shore, casting high their white crests, racing one after another into the dim distance, and leaping impetuously over one another’s shoulders.  It seemed as if the river felt the proximity of winter, and was running at random away from the fetters of ice which the north wind might well have flung upon her that very night.  The sky was heavy and dark; down from it swept incessantly scarcely visible drops of rain, and the melancholy elegy in nature all around me was emphasised by a couple of battered and misshapen willow-trees and a boat, bottom upwards, that was fastened to their roots.

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Best Russian Short Stories from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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