Мертвые души
Chapter 7
HowwellIcanimaginehimtrampingthecountrywithanaxeinhisbeltandhisbootsonhisshoulder,andlivingonafewgroats’-worthofbreadanddriedfishperday,andtakinghomeacoupleofhalf-roublepiecesinhispurse,andsewingthenotesintohisbreeches,orstuffingthemintohisboots!Inwhatmannercameyoubyyourend,ProbkaStepan?Didyou,forgoodwages,mountascaffoldaroundthecupolaofthevillagechurch,and,climbingthencetothecrossabove,missyourfootingonabeam,andfallheadlongwithnoneathandbutUncleMichai—thegoodunclewho,scratchingthebackofhisneck,andmuttering,‘Ah,Vania,foronceyouhavebeentooclever!’straightwaylashedhimselftoarope,andtookyourplace?‘MaksimTeliatnikov,shoemaker.’Ashoemaker,indeed?‘Asdrunkasashoemaker,’saystheproverb.Iknowwhatyouwerelike,myfriend.Ifyouwish,Iwilltellyouyourwholehistory.YouwereapprenticedtoaGerman,whofedyouandyourfellowsatacommontable,thrashedyouwithastrap,keptyouindoorswheneveryouhadmadeamistake,andspokeofyouinuncomplimentarytermstohiswifeandfriends.Atlength,whenyourapprenticeshipwasover,yousaidtoyourself,‘Iamgoingtosetuponmyownaccount,andnotjusttoscrapetogetherakopeckhereandakopeckthere,astheGermansdo,buttogrowrichquick.’Henceyoutookashopatahighrent,bespokeafeworders,andsettoworktobuyupsomerottenleatheroutofwhichyoucouldmake,oneachpairofboots,adoubleprofit.