Fables for Children, Stories for Children, Natural Science Stories Part 53

"Now," he thought, "I will get even with my neighbour: he shall not escape the penitentiary or Siberia."

Again Ivan was not successful. The magistrate did not accept the pet.i.tion: they examined the woman, but she was up and there were no marks upon her. Ivan went to the justice of the peace; but the justice sent the case to the towns.h.i.+p court. Ivan bestirred himself in the towns.h.i.+p office, filled the elder and the scribe with half a bucket of sweet liquor, and got them to sentence Gavrilo to having his back flogged. The sentence was read to Gavrilo in the court.

The scribe read:

"The court has decreed that the peasant Gavrilo Gordyey receive twenty blows with rods in the towns.h.i.+p office."

Ivan listened to the decree and looked at Gavrilo, wondering what he would do. Gavrilo, too, heard the decree, and he became as pale as a sheet, and turned away and walked out into the vestibule. Ivan followed him out and wanted to go to his horse, when he heard Gavrilo say:

"Very well, he will beat my back, and it will burn, but something of his may burn worse than that."

When Ivan heard these words, he returned to the judges.

"Righteous judges! He threatens to set fire to my house. Listen, he said it in the presence of witnesses."

Gavrilo was called in.

"Is it true that you said so?"

"I said nothing. Flog me, if you please. Evidently I must suffer for my truth, while he may do anything he wishes."

Gavrilo wanted to say something more, but his lips and cheeks trembled.

He turned away toward the wall. Even the judges were frightened as they looked at him.

"It would not be surprising," they thought, "if he actually did some harm to his neighbour or to himself."

And an old judge said to them:

"Listen, friends! You had better make peace with each other. Did you do right, brother Gavrilo, to strike a pregnant woman? Luckily G.o.d was merciful to you, but think what crime you might have committed! Is that good? Confess your guilt and beg his pardon! And he will pardon you.

Then we shall change the decree."

The scribe heard that, and said:

"That is impossible, because on the basis of Article 117 there has taken place no reconciliation, but the decree of the court has been handed down, and the decree has to be executed."

But the judge paid no attention to the scribe.

"Stop currycombing your tongue. The first article, my friend, is to remember G.o.d, and G.o.d has commanded me to make peace."

And the judge began once more to talk to the peasants, but he could not persuade them. Gavrilo would not listen to him.

"I am fifty years old less one," he said, "and I have a married son. I have not been beaten in all my life, and now freckled Ivan has brought me to being beaten with rods, and am I to beg his forgiveness? Well, he will--Ivan will remember me!"

Gavrilo's voice trembled again. He could not talk. He turned around and went out.

From the towns.h.i.+p office to the village was a distance of ten versts, and Ivan returned home late. The women had already gone out to meet the cattle. He unhitched his horse, put it away, and entered the hut. The room was empty. The children had not yet returned from the field, and the women were out to meet the cattle. Ivan went in, sat down on a bench, and began to think. He recalled how the decision was announced to Gavrilo, and how he grew pale, and turned to the wall. And his heart was pinched. He thought of how he should feel if he were condemned to be flogged. He felt sorry for Gavrilo. He heard the old man coughing on the oven. The old man turned around, let down his legs, and sat up. He pulled himself with difficulty up to the bench, and coughed and coughed, until he cleared his throat, and leaned against the table, and said:

"Well, have they condemned him?"

Ivan said:

"He has been sentenced to twenty strokes with the rods."

The old man shook his head.

"Ivan, you are not doing right. It's wrong, not wrong to him, but to yourself. Well, will it make you feel easier, if they flog him?"

"He will never do it again," said Ivan.

"Why not? In what way is he doing worse than you?"

"What, he has not harmed me?" exclaimed Ivan. "He might have killed the woman; and he even now threatens to set fire to my house. Well, shall I bow to him for it?"

The old man heaved a sigh, and said:

"You, Ivan, walk and drive wherever you please in the free world, and I have pa.s.sed many years on the oven, and so you think that you see everything, while I see nothing. No, my son, you see nothing,--malice has dimmed your eyes. Another man's sins are in front of you, but your own are behind your back. You say that he has done wrong. If he alone had done wrong, there would be no harm. Does evil between people arise from one man only? Evil arises between two. You see his badness, but you do not see your own. If he himself were bad, and you good, there would be no evil. Who pulled out his beard? Who blasted the rick which was at halves? Who is dragging him to the courts? And yet you put it always on him. You yourself live badly, that's why it is bad. Not thus did I live, and no such thing, my dear, did I teach you. Did I and the old man, his father, live this way? How did we live? In neighbourly fas.h.i.+on. If his flour gave out, and the woman came: 'Uncle Frol, I need some flour.'--'Go, young woman, into the granary, and take as much as you need.' If he had n.o.body to send out with the horses,--'Go, Ivan, and look after his horses!' And if I was short of anything, I used to go to him. 'Uncle Gordyey, I need this and that.' And how is it now? The other day a soldier was talking about Plevna. Why, your war is worse than what they did at Plevna. Do you call this living? It is a sin! You are a peasant, a head of a house. You will be responsible. What are you teaching your women and your children? To curse. The other day Taraska, that dirty nose, cursed Aunt Arina, and his mother only laughed at him.

Is that good? You will be responsible for it. Think of your soul. Is that right? You say a word to me, and I answer with two; you box my ears, and I box you twice. No, my son, Christ walked over the earth and taught us fools something quite different. If a word is said to you,--keep quiet, and let conscience smite him. That's what he, my son, has taught us. If they box your ears, you turn the other cheek to them: 'Here, strike it if I deserve it.' His own conscience will p.r.i.c.k him. He will be pacified and will do as you wish. That's what he has commanded us to do, and not to crow. Why are you silent? Do I tell you right?"

Ivan was silent, and he listened.

The old man coughed again, and with difficulty coughed up the phlegm, and began to speak again:

"Do you think Christ has taught us anything bad? He has taught us for our own good. Think of your earthly life: are you better off, or worse, since that Plevna of yours was started? Figure out how much you have spent on these courts, how much you have spent in travelling and in feeding yourself on the way? See what eagles of sons you have! You ought to live, and live well, and go up, but your property is growing less.

Why? For the same reason. From your pride. You ought to be ploughing with the boys in the field and attend to your sowing, but the fiend carries you to court or to some pettifogger. You do not plough in time and do not sow in time, and mother earth does not bring forth anything.

Why did the oats not do well this year? When did you sow them? When you came back from the city. And what did you gain from the court? Only trouble for yourself. Oh, son, stick to your business, and attend to your field and your house, and if any one has offended you, forgive him in G.o.dly fas.h.i.+on, and things will go better with you, and you will feel easier at heart."

Ivan kept silence.

"Listen, Ivan! Pay attention to me, an old man. Go and hitch the gray horse, and drive straight back to the office: squash there the whole business, and in the morning go to Gavrilo, make peace with him in G.o.dly fas.h.i.+on, and invite him to the holiday" (it was before Lady-day), "have the samovar prepared, get a half bottle, and make an end to all sins, so that may never happen again, and command the women and children to live in peace."

Ivan heaved a sigh, and thought: "The old man is speaking the truth,"

and his heart melted. The only thing he did not know was how to manage things so as to make peace with his neighbour.

And the old man, as though guessing what he had in mind, began once more:

"Go, Ivan, do not put it off! Put out the fire at the start, for when it burns up, you can't control it."

The old man wanted to say something else, but did not finish, for the women entered the room and began to prattle like magpies. The news had already reached them about how Gavrilo had been sentenced to be flogged, and how he had threatened to set fire to the house. They had found out everything, and had had time in the pasture to exchange words with the women of Gavrilo's house. They said that Gavrilo's daughter-in-law had threatened them with the examining magistrate. The magistrate, they said, was receiving gifts from Gavrilo. He would now upset the whole case, and the teacher had already written another pet.i.tion to the Tsar about Ivan, and that pet.i.tion mentioned all the affairs, about the coupling-pin, and about the garden,--and half of the estate would go back to him. Ivan listened to their talk, and his heart was chilled again, and he changed his mind about making peace with Gavrilo.

In a farmer's yard there is always much to do. Ivan did not stop to talk with the women, but got up and went out of the house, and walked over to the thres.h.i.+ng-floor and the shed. Before he fixed everything and started back again, the sun went down, and the boys returned from the field.

They had been ploughing up the field for the winter crop. Ivan met them, and asked them about their work and helped them to put up the horses. He laid aside the torn collar and was about to put some poles under the shed, when it grew quite dark. Ivan left the poles until the morrow; instead he threw some fodder down to the cattle, opened the gate, let Taraska out with the horses into the street, to go to the night pasture, and again closed the gate and put down the gate board.

"Now to supper and to bed," thought Ivan. He took the torn collar and went into the house. He had entirely forgotten about Gavrilo, and about what his father had told him. As he took hold of the ring and was about to enter the vestibule, he heard his neighbour on the other side of the wicker fence scolding some one in a hoa.r.s.e voice.

"The devil take him!" Gavrilo was crying to some one. "He ought to be killed."

These words made all the old anger toward his neighbour burst forth in Ivan. He stood awhile and listened to Gavrilo's scolding. Then Gavrilo grew quiet, and Ivan went into the house.