_October 3rd._--A strange occurrence has taken place to-day. I got up
fairly late, and when Mawra brought me my clean boots, I asked her how
late it was. When I heard it had long struck ten, I dressed as quickly
as possible.
To tell the truth, I would rather not have gone to the office at all
to-day, for I know beforehand that our department-chief will look as
sour as vinegar. For some time past he has been in the habit of saying
to me, "Look here, my friend; there is something wrong with your head.
You often rush about as though you were possessed. Then you make such
confused abstracts of the documents that the devil himself cannot make
them out; you write the title without any capital letters, and add
neither the date nor the docket-number." The long-legged scoundrel! He
is certainly envious of me, because I sit in the director's work-room,
and mend His Excellency's pens. In a word, I should not have gone to the
office if I had not hoped to meet the accountant, and perhaps squeeze a
little advance out of this skinflint.
A terrible man, this accountant! As for his advancing one's salary once
in a way--you might sooner expect the skies to fall. You may beg and
beseech him, and be on the very verge of ruin--this grey devil won't
budge an inch. At the same time, his own cook at home, as all the world
knows, boxes his ears.
I really don't see what good one gets by serving in our department.
There are no plums there. In the fiscal and judicial offices it is quite
different. There some ungainly fellow sits in a corner and writes and
writes; he has such a shabby coat and such an ugly mug that one would
like to spit on both of them. But you should see what a splendid
country-house he has rented. He would not condescend to accept a gilt
porcelain cup as a present. "You can give that to your family doctor,"
he would say. Nothing less than a pair of chestnut horses, a fine
carriage, or a beaver-fur coat worth three hundred roubles would be good
enough for him. And yet he seems so mild and quiet, and asks so amiably,
"Please lend me your penknife; I wish to mend my pen." Nevertheless, he
knows how to scarify a petitioner till he has hardly a whole stitch left
on his body.
In our office it must be admitted everything is done in a proper and
gentlemanly way; there is more cleanness and elegance than one will ever
find in Government offices. The tables are mahogany, and everyone is
addressed as "sir." And truly, were it not for this official propriety,
I should long ago have sent in my resignation.
I put on my old cloak, and took my umbrella, as a light rain was
falling. No one was to be seen on the streets except some women, who had
flung their skirts over their heads. Here and there one saw a cabman or
a shopman with his umbrella up. Of the higher classes one only saw an
official here and there. One I saw at the street-crossing, and thought
to myself, "Ah! my friend, you are not going to the office, but after
that young lady who walks in front of you. You are just like the
officers who run after every petticoat they see."
As I was thus following the train of my thoughts, I saw a carriage stop
before a shop just as I was passing it. I recognised it at once; it was
our director's carriage. "He has nothing to do in the shop," I said to
myself; "it must be his daughter."
I pressed myself close against the wall. A lackey opened the carriage
door, and, as I had expected, she fluttered like a bird out of it. How
proudly she looked right and left; how she drew her eyebrows together,
and shot lightnings from her eyes--good heavens! I am lost, hopelessly
lost!
But why must she come out in such abominable weather? And yet they say
women are so mad on their finery!
She did not recognise me. I had wrapped myself as closely as possible in
my cloak. It was dirty and old-fashioned, and I would not have liked to
have been seen by her wearing it. Now they wear cloaks with long
collars, but mine has only a short double collar, and the cloth is of
inferior quality.
Her little dog could not get into the shop, and remained outside. I know
this dog; its name is "Meggy."
Before I had been standing there a minute, I heard a voice call, "Good
day, Meggy!"
Who the deuce was that? I looked round and saw two ladies hurrying by
under an umbrella--one old, the other fairly young. They had already
passed me when I heard the same voice say again, "For shame, Meggy!"
What was that? I saw Meggy sniffing at a dog which ran behind the
ladies. The deuce! I thought to myself, "I am not drunk? That happens
pretty seldom."
"No, Fidel, you are wrong," I heard Meggy say quite distinctly. "I
was--bow--wow!--I was--bow! wow! wow!--very ill."
What an extraordinary dog! I was, to tell the truth, quite amazed to
hear it talk human language. But when I considered the matter well, I
ceased to be astonished. In fact, such things have already happened in
the world. It is said that in England a fish put its head out of water
and said a word or two in such an extraordinary language that learned
men have been puzzling over them for three years, and have not succeeded
in interpreting them yet. I also read in the paper of two cows who
entered a shop and asked for a pound of tea.
Meanwhile what Meggy went on to say seemed to me still more remarkable.
She added, "I wrote to you lately, Fidel; perhaps Polkan did not bring
you the letter."
Now I am willing to forfeit a whole month's salary if I ever heard of
dogs writing before. This has certainly astonished me. For some little
time past I hear and see things which no other man has heard and seen.
"I will," I thought, "follow that dog in order to get to the bottom of
the matter. Accordingly, I opened my umbrella and went after the two
ladies. They went down Bean Street, turned through Citizen Street and
Carpenter Street, and finally halted on the Cuckoo Bridge before a large
house. I know this house; it is Sverkoff's. What a monster he is! What
sort of people live there! How many cooks, how many bagmen! There are
brother officials of mine also there packed on each other like herrings.
And I have a friend there, a fine player on the cornet."
The ladies mounted to the fifth story. "Very good," thought I; "I will
make a note of the number, in order to follow up the matter at the first
opportunity."
* * * * *
_October 4th._--To-day is Wednesday, and I was as usual in the office. I
came early on purpose, sat down, and mended all the pens.
Our director must be a very clever man. The whole room is full of
bookcases. I read the titles of some of the books; they were very
learned, beyond the comprehension of people of my class, and all in
French and German. I look at his face; see! how much dignity there is in
his eyes. I never hear a single superfluous word from his mouth, except
that when he hands over the documents, he asks "What sort of weather is
it?"
No, he is not a man of our class; he is a real statesman. I have already
noticed that I am a special favourite of his. If now his daughter
also--ah! what folly--let me say no more about it!
I have read the _Northern Bee_. What foolish people the French are! By
heavens! I should like to tackle them all, and give them a thrashing. I
have also read a fine description of a ball given by a landowner of
Kursk. The landowners of Kursk write a fine style.
Then I noticed that it was already half-past twelve, and the director
had not yet left his bedroom. But about half-past one something happened
which no pen can describe.
The door opened. I thought it was the director; I jumped up with my
documents from the seat, and--then--she--herself--came into the room. Ye
saints! how beautifully she was dressed. Her garments were whiter than a
swan's plumage--oh how splendid! A sun, indeed, a real sun!