“Whatanicehandyouwrite！“Hehimselfcouldwriteonlyinprintingfashion，inthelargescriptorycharactersoftheEcclesiasticalRubric，notinthoseoftheordinarykind。
“Forexample，thatscoopthere——whatdoesITsay？“
“Itistheword’Good。’“
“’Good’？Butwhataslip-knotofathing！AndwhatarethosewordsTHERE，onTHATline？“
“Theysay，’Planks，1vershokby9arshini，5。’“
“No，sixwasthenumberused。“
“No，five。“
“Five？Why，thesoldierbrokeone，didn’the？“
“Yes，butnevermind——atleastitwasn’taplankthatwaswanted。“
“Oh！Well，Imaytellyouthathetookthetwopiecestothetaverntogetdrinkwith。“
Then，glancingintomyfacewithhiscornflower-blueeyesandquiet，quizzicalsmile，hewouldsaywithouttheleastconfusionashetwistedtheringletsofhisbeard:
“Putdown’6。’Andseehere，youngcockerel。Theweatherhasturnedwetandcold，andtheworkishard，andsometimesfolkneedtohavetheirspiritscheeredandraisedwithadropofliquor。Sodon’tyoubetooharduponus，forGodwon’tthinkthemoreofyouforbeingstrict。“
Andashethustalkedtomeinhisslowandkindly，butsemi-affected，fashion——bespatteringme，asitwere，withwordysawdust——Iwouldsuddenlygrowblindofaneyeandsilentlyshowhimthecorrectedfigure。
“That’sit——that’sright。Andhowfinethefigurelooksnow，asitsquatstherelikeamerchant’sbuxom，comelydame！“
Thenhewouldbeseentriumphantlytellinghismatesofhissuccess；then，IwouldfindmyselffeelingacutelyconsciousofthefactthateveryonewasdespisingmeformycomplacenceYes，grownsickbeyondendurancewithayearningforsomethingwhichitcouldnotdescry，myfifteen-year-oldheartwoulddissolveinafloodofmortifiedtears，andtherewouldpassthroughmybrainthedespondent，achingthought:
“Oh，whatasad，uncomfortableworldisthis！HowshouldOssiphaveknownsowellthatIshouldnotre-correctthe6intoa5，orthatIshouldnottellthecontractorthatthemenhavebarteredaplankforliquor？“
Again，therebefellanoccasionwhenthemenstoletwopounds’
weightoffivevershokmandrelsandbolts。
“Lookhere，“IsaidtoOssipwarningly。“Iamgoingtoreportthis。“
“Allright，“heagreedwithatwitchofhisgreyeyebrows。
“ThoughwhatsuchatriflecanmatterIfailtosee。Yes，goandreporteverymother’ssonofthem。“
Andtothementhemselvesheshouted:
“Hi，boobies！Eachofyounowstandsdockedforsomemandrelsandbolts。“
“Why？“wastheoldsoldier’sgriminquiry。
“BecauseyouDOsostand，“carelesslyretortedtheother。
Withsnarlsthereafter，themeneyedmecovertly，untilIbegantofeelthatverylikelyIshouldnotdoasIhadthreatened，andeventhatsotodomightnotbeexpedient。
“Butlookhere，“saidItoOssip。“Iamgoingtogivethecontractornotice，andletallofyougotothedevil。ForifI
weretoremainwithyoumuchlongerItooshouldbecomeathief。“
Ossipstrokedhisbeardawhile，andpondered。Thenheseatedhimselfbesideme，andsaidinanundertone:
“Thatistrue。“
“Well？“
“Butthingsarealwaysso。Thetruthisthatit’stimeyoudeparted。Whatsortofawatchman，ofachecker，areyou？Injobsofthiskindwhatamanneedstoknowisthemeaningofproperty。Heneedstohaveinhimthespiritofadog，sothatheshalllookafterhismaster’sstuffashewouldlookaftertheskinwhichhismotherhasputontohisownbody。Butyou，youyoungpuppy，haven’ttheslightestnotionofwhatpropertymeans。Infact，wereanyonetogoandtellVasiliSergeitchaboutthewayinwhichyoukeeplettingusoff，he’dgiveityouintheneck。Yes，you’renogoodtohimatall，butjustanexpense:whereaswhenamanservesamasterheought，doyouunderstand，tobePROFITABLEtothatmaster。“
Herolledandhandedmeacigarette。
“Smokethis，“saidhe，“andperhapsit’llmakeyourbrainworkeasier。Ifonlyyouhadbeenofalessawkward，uncomfortablenature，Ishouldhavesaidtoyou，’Goandjointhepriests；
but，asthingsare，youaren’ttherightsortforthat——you’retoostiffandunbending，andwouldnevermakeheadwayevenwithanabbot。No，you’renotthesorttoplaycardswith。Amonkislikeajackdaw——hechatterswithoutknowingwhatheischatteringabout，andpaysnoheedtotherootofthings，sobusyishewithstuffinghimselffullwiththegrain。Isaythistoyouwithabsoluteearnestness，forIperceiveyoutobestrangetoourways——acuckoothathasblunderedintothewrongnest。“
And，doffinghiscap，agesturewhichheneverfailedtoexecutewhenhehadsomethingparticularlyimportanttosay，headdedhumblyandsonorouslyasheglancedatthegreyfirmament:
“InthesightoftheLordourwaysarethewaysofthieves，andsuchaswillnevergainofHimsalvation。“
“Andthatistrueenough，“respondedMokeiBudirinafterthefashionofaclarionet。
Fromthattimeforth，Ossipofthecurly，silveredhead，brighteyes，andshadowysoulbecameanobjectofagreeableinterestforme。Indeed，theregrewupbetweenusaspeciesoffriendship，eventhoughIcouldseethatacivilbearingtowardsmeinpublicwasathingthatithurthimtomaintain。Atallevents，inthepresenceofothersheavoidedmyglance，andhiseyes，clear，unsullied，andfightblueintint，waveredunsteadily，andhislipstwitchedandassumedanartificiallyunpleasantexpression，whileheutteredsomesuchspeechas:
“Hi，youMakarei，seethatyoukeepyoureyesopen，andcamyourpay，orthatpigofasoldierwillbemakingawaywithmorenails！“
Butatothertimes，whenwewerealonetogether，hewouldspeaktomekindlyandinstructively，whilehiseyeswoulddanceandgleamwithafaint，grave，knowingsmile，anddartblueraysdirectintomine，whileformypart，asIlistenedtohiswords，Itookeveryoneofthemtobeabsolutelytrueandbalanced，despitetheirstrangedelivery。
“Aman’sdutyconsistsinbeinggood，“Iremarkedononeoccasion。
“Yes，ofcourse，“assentedOssip，thoughthenextmomentheveiledhiseyeswithasmile，andaddedinanundertone:
“Butwhatdoyouunderstandbytheterm’good’？Inmyopinion，unlessvirtuebetotheiradvantage，folkspituponthat’goodness，’that’honourableness，’ofyours。Hence，thebetterplanistopayfolkcourt，andbeciviltothem，andflatterandcajoleeverymother’ssonofthem。Yes，dothat，andyour’goodness’willhaveachanceofbringingyouinsomereturn。NotthatIdonotsaythattobe’good，’tobeabletolookyourownuglyjowlinthefaceinamirror，ispleasantenough；but，asIseethematter，itisallonetootherpeoplewhetheryoubeacardsharperorapriestsolongasyou’repolite，andletdownyourneighbourslightly。That’swhattheywant。“
FormypartInever，atthatperiod，grewwearyofwatchingmyfellows，foritwasmyconstantideathatsomedayoneofthemwouldbeabletoraisemetoahigherlevel，andtobringmetoanunderstandingofthisunintelligibleandcomplicatedexistenceofours。HenceIkeptaskingmyselftherestless，theimportunatequestion:
“Whatpreciselyisthehumansoul？
Certainsouls，Ithought，existedwhichseemedlikeballsofcopper，for，solidandimmovable，theyreflectedthingsfromtheirownpointofviewalone，inadullandirregularanddistortedfashion。Andsouls，Ithought，existedwhichseemedasflatasmirrors，and，forallintentsandpurposes，hadnoexistenceatall。
Andineverycasethehumansoulseemedformless，likeacloud，andasmurkilymutableasanimitationopal，athingwhichalteredaccordingtothecolourofwhatadjoinedit。
OnlyasregardedthesouloftheintelligentOssipwasI
absolutelyataloss，absolutelyunabletoreachaconclusion。
Ponderingtheseandsimilarmattersinmymind，I，onthedayofwhichIspeak，stoodgazingattheriver，andatthetownunderthehill，asIlistenedtothebells。RearingthemselvesaloftliketheorganpipesinmyfavouritePolish-RomanCatholicchurch，thesteeplesofthetownhadtheircrossesdimlysparklingasthoughthelatterhadbeenstarsimprisonedinamurkysky。Yetitwasasthoughthosestarshopedeventuallytoascendintothepurerfirmamentabovethewind-torncloudsthattheysparkled；andasIstoodwatchingthecloudsglideonward，andmomentarilyeffacewiththeirshadows，thetown’smultifarioushues，Imarkedthefactthatalthough，wheneverdark-bluecavitiesintheirsubstancepermittedthebeamsofthesuntoilluminatethebuildingsbelow，thosebuildings’roofsassumedtintsofincreasedcheerfulness。Thecloudsseemedtoglidethefastertoveilthebeams，whilethehumidshadowsgrewmoreopaque——andthescenedarkenedasthoughonlyforamomenthaditassumedasemblanceofjoy。