A sick innkeeper said to the doctor:  “If I get ill, then for the love of God come without waiting for a summons.  My sister will never call you in, whatever happens; she is a miser, and your fee is three roubles a visit.”  A month or two later the doctor heard that the innkeeper was seriously ill, and while he was making his preparations to go and see him, he received a letter from the sister saying:  “My brother is dead.”  Five days later the doctor happened to go to the village and was told there that the innkeeper had died that morning.  Disgusted he went to the inn.  The sister dressed in black stood in the corner reading a psalm book.  The doctor began to upbraid her for her stinginess and cruelty.  The sister went on reading the psalms, but between every two sentences she stopped to quarrel with him—­“Lots of your like running about here....  The devils brought you here.”  She belongs to the old faith, hates passionately and swears desperately.

* * * * *

The new governor made a speech to his clerks.  He called the merchants together—­another speech.  At the annual prize-giving of the secondary school for girls—­a speech on true enlightenment.  To the representatives of the press a speech.  He called the Jews together:  “Jews, I have summoned you.” ...  A month or two passes—­he does nothing.  Again he calls the merchants together—­a speech.  Again the Jews:  “Jews, I have summoned you."...  He has wearied them all.  At last he says to his Chancellor:  “No, the work is too much for me, I shall have to resign.”

* * * * *

A student at a village theological school was learning Latin by heart.  Every half-hour he runs down to the maids’ room and, closing his eyes, feels and pinches them; they scream and giggle; he returns to his book again.  He calls it “refreshing oneself.”

* * * * *

The Governor’s wife invited an official, who had a thin voice and was her adorer, to have a cup of chocolate with her, and for a week afterwards he was in bliss.  He had saved money and lent it but not on interest.  “I can’t lend you any, your son-in-law would gamble it away.  No, I can’t.”  The son-in-law is the husband of the daughter who once sat in a box in a boa; he lost at cards and embezzled Government money.  The official, who was accustomed to herring and vodka, and who had never before drunk chocolate, felt sick after the chocolate.  The expression on the lady’s face:  “Aren’t I a darling?”; she spent any amount of money on dresses and looked forward to making a display of them—­so she gave parties.

* * * * *

Going to Paris with one’s wife is like going to Tula[1] with one’s samovar.

[Footnote 1:  Tula is a Russian city where samovars are manufactured.]

* * * * *

The young do not go in for literature, because the best of them work on steam engines, in factories, in industrial undertakings.  All of them have now gone into industry, and industry is making enormous progress.