Sloberino Pullovitch sat in his sumptuous office. He sat, because
he had been out the night before and did not know yet how it had
ended. Every time he moved, four secretaries jumped to listen to his
commands. Every time he snored, the four secretaries rang bells, and
seven messengers burst into the room, lined up and bowed, awaiting
orders. Outside of these doings, all was quiet for several hours.
Then Pullovitch spoke. He said, “Hoot mon.” It will be noticed that
Pullovitch spoke with a Scotch accent; but he was not Scotch. He was a
pure Russian; but his mother had been frightened by a Scotch Terrier
before he was born--so Pullovitch was born with a Scotch plaid pattern
on the soles of his feet, and spoke Scotch when he was half-cocked.
It ought to be explained that Sloberino Pullovitch enjoyed a very
lucrative position in the Russian government, and was big Indian, high
up in political circles.
Pullovitch finally recovered consciousness about four p.m., and
immediately there were doings. There were always doings when he
recovered from a jag. “Send for Spitoonski,” he roared, and immediately
the four secretaries and seven messengers got out of harm’s way.
Spitoonski was the chief cook and bottle washer of Pullovitch. He did
for Pullovitch what Pullovitch did not care to do for himself. He told
the Pullovitch lies and did the squirming about, and what is known in
Russian Political Circles as “the dirty.”
It can be easily imagined that Spitoonski was not liked, but feared;
and that every poor government clerk trembled when he came within the
visual orbit of his little black pig-like eyes. He was of low origin,
and had sunk lower. He would do anything for money but work, and
was the willing tool of Pullovitch. He never smiled. He believed it
was not dignified to smile. He made every effort he could to appear
dignified, which was difficult, considering he was only the height of
six pennyworth of copper, had a crooked neck and one shoulder higher
than the other. Occasionally Spitoonski would allow his face to wrinkle
up in a beautiful snarl. When he did this, he thought he was smiling,
and checked it immediately, which was a very welcome relief to the
on-looker; for it was very unsightly.
Immediately upon being notified, Spitoonski crawled into the presence
of his Chief, smiling. “Cover up your teeth and listen to me, viper,”
said Pullovitch.
Spitoonski bowed, and accepted the compliment.
“Among the rubbish we have employed under us,” continued Pullovitch,
“we have one Slopft, who never does anything but chatter to himself,
eat, and sleep. He will soon be fit for a padded room; but before he
gets any more crazy, do thou prepare a solemn ukase and have him made
Chief Investigator of Pot Holes at steen pieces of silver per month.
His brother keeps a swell gambling house, and has much influence; so we
must do something.”
Spitoonski listened patiently, and then ventured to protest: “Your
highness,” said he, “if you will allow me to humbly make a remark, I
would say that if this thing is done your noble person will be besieged
by every Tom, Dick and Harry in your beautiful and well ordered
department. They will make you feel like a singed horse in Fly Time.
You know them.”
“Shut up and do my bidding. I did not ask for advice. Get out,
skiddaddle, vamose, scoot, mizzle, fly, or I’ll straighten your crooked
neck,” said Pullovitch, frothing at the mouth. And Spitoonski thanked
him kindly, and withdrew.
The morning following the _Daily Dung Heap_ made the whole community
wise to the fact that the eminent citizen, Mr. P. Q. R. S. Slopft, had
been made Chief Investigator of Pot Holes.
Immediately there were doings in the Pullovitch Department. Every one
employed therein, from the Deputy down to the Window Cleaner, prepared
to pull such wires as they commanded to the end of having immediate
increase or promotion, or both; and for seven days and seven nights the
excitement was intense. Letters, telegrams and petitions rained like
hail upon Pullovitch; but as Pullovitch had his personality submerged
in strong drink, the strain was only on the paper basket. Among the
importunates was one De Bum, a cunning rascal who had aided and
abetted a certain Buttinsky in an election, and he spake with the said
Buttinsky, saying:
“Go thou, Buttinsky, and fill Pullovitch up to the neck, and when he is
right have me installed as a First Class Clerk. And do it quick, see?”
And Buttinsky was afraid lest De Bum should open his mouth; so he
loaded Pullovitch as he was bid, and De Bum became in name and Salary,
a First Class Clerk.
Now, these things being done, other happenings followed as a matter
of natural consequence. The respectable ones in the Department of
Pullovitch, who were not many by this time, murmured among themselves,
and said: “If we remain in the service of Pullovitch we will lose our
good name, and be classed with such as Slopft and De Bum. Let us,
therefore, resign before it is too late.”
So every one who had any respect for himself resigned, and left the
Department of Pullovitch, and it became absolutely corrupt.
Then other Departments became as that of Pullovitch, till corruption
crept even to the Throne. And the enemies of Russia, who saw these
things, waited and waited till she was rotten at the heart. Then they
rose up and slew her.
Corruption creeps in softly and easily; but is only eradicated through
much bloodshed and strife.
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