A long time ago the judge had been a cavalryman. Now, through long service in elective office, he had attained high rank in the Civil Service, yet had never discarded his military uniform or his military habits. He had long whiskers like a police chief's, trousers with piping, and all his acts and words were military elegance personifed. He spoke with his head thrown slightly back, larding his speech with your retired general's fruity bleats, flexing his shoulders and rolling his eyes.
When greeting someone or giving them a light he scraped his shoes, and when walking he clinked his spurs as carefully and delicately as if every jingle caused him exquisite pain. Having sat the doctor downwn to his tea, he stroked his broad chest and stomach and heaved a sigh.
'H^^rnph!' said he. 'Perhaps you'd like, m'yes, some vodka and a bite to eat, m'yes?'
'No thank you, I'm not hungry.'
Both felt that they were bound to discus the hospital ^^dal, and both felt awkward. The doctor said nothing. With a graceful gesture the judge caught a gnat that had bitten his chest, scrutinized it keenly from all angles, and then let it go. Then he heaved a deep sigh and looked up at the doctor.
'Now then, why don't you get rid of him?' he asked succinctly.
The doctor sensed a note of sympathy in his voice, and suddenly pitied himself, jaded and crushed as he felt by the week's ructions. He rose from the table, frownwned irritably and shrugged his shoulders, his expreuion suggesting that his patience had finally snapped.
'Get rid of him!' he said. 'Ye Gods, the mentality of you people! It really is remarkable! But how can I do that? You sit around here thinking I run my hospital and can act as I please. The mentality of you people certainly is remarkable. Can I really sack an orderly whose aunt is n^my to our Chairman's children, and ifour Chairman has a need for such toadies and blabbermouths as this Smimovsky? What can I do ifthe Council doesn't care tuppence for us doctors, if it trips us up at every t^? I don't want their job, blast them, and that's flat—they can keep it!'
'There there, my dear chap. You're making too much of the thing, in a m^mer of speaking.'
'The Chairman tries his level best to prove we're all revolutio^mes, he spies on us, he treats us as clerks. What right has he to visit the hos- pital when I'm away, and to question the nurses and patients? It's do^^ght insulting. Then there's this pious freak of yours, this Simon Alekseyevich who does his ploughing, rejects medicine because he's as strong as an ox—and eats as much!—vociferously calling us parasites to our faces and begrudging us our livelihood, blast him! I work day and night, I never take a holiday, I'm more necesary than all these prigs, bigots, reformers and buffoons put together! I've worked til I'm il, and instead of any gratitude I'm told I'm a parasite. Thank you very, very much! Then again, everyone thinks himself entitled to poke his nose into other people's business, tell them how to
do their job, order them about. Your pal Coundllor Kamchatsky criticizes us doctors at the annual meeting for wasting pota^ium iodide, and advises us to be careful about using cocaine! What does he know about it, eh? What business is it of his? Why doesn't he teach you how to your coun ?'
'But, but he's such a cad, old son—a bounder. You mustn't let him bother you.'
'He's a cad and a bounder, but it was you who elected this windbag to your Executive Committee, you who let him poke his nose into everything. Al right, smile! These things are all trifles and pinpricks, think you. But so n^nerous are they that one's whole life now con- sists of them, as a mountain may consist of grains of sand—just you get that into your head! I can't on—I'm just about all in,
Alexander Arkhipovich. Any more of this and I won't be punching faces, I'll be taking pot shoc at people, believe you me! My nerves
aren't made of steel, I tell you! I'm a human being like you '
Tears carne to the doctor's eyes, his voice shook. He turned away and looked through the window. Silence fell. 'H^^rnph, old fellow!' muttered the judge pennvely. 'And then
again, if one considers things coolly '
He caught a gnat, squinted hard at it from all angles, squashed it and threw it in the slop-basin.
' then, you see, there's no reason to dismiu him. Get rid of him
and he'll be replaced by someone just like him, or even worse. You could ^m through a hundred of them and you wouldn't find one that was any good. They're all blackguards.' He stroked his ^mpits and slowly lit a cigarette. 'We must learn to put up with this evil. It's only among professional people and peasants-—at the two poles of society, in other words—that one fi.nds honest, sober, reliable workers nowa- days, that's my opinion. A really decent doctor, a fint—la^ teacher, a thoroughly honest ploughman or blacksmith—those you might, in a m^mer ofspeaking, find. But the in-betweeners, what you might call deserters from the peasantry who haven't acquired professional stand- ing—they're the ^veliable element. That's why it's so hard to find an honest, sober hospital orderly, clerk, f^m bailiff and so on—exceed- ingly hard. I've been with the justice department since time immemo- rial, and I've never had one honest, sober clerk tlroughout my career, though I've booted them out by the sackful in my time. These people lack moral discipline, not to mention er, er, principles, in a manner of speaking '
'What's all this in aid of?' wondered the doctor. 'What we're both saying is all beside the point.'
'Here's a trick my clerk, Dyuzhinsky, played me only last Friday,' the judge continued. 'He got hold of some d^—God knows who—and they spent all night boozing in my court-house. What do you say to that, now? I've nothing against drink. Let them guzzle themsdves silly, confound them! But why bring strangers into my chambers? Just think—after all, would it take a second to steal a doc^ent, a promissory note or something, from the files? Well, believe it or not, after that orgy I had to spend two days checking all my files in case anything was missing. Now then, what will you do with this scallywag? Get rid of him? All right. And where's your guarantee that the next one won't be worse?'
'But how can he be got rid of?' the doctor asked. 'It's easy enough to talk, but how can I discharge him and take the bread out of his mouth when I know he's a family man with no resources. What would he and his family do?'
'I'm saying the wrong thing, da^ it!' he thought, marvelling that he simply could not concentrate on any one definite idea or senti- ment. 'That's because I'm shallow and illogical,' he reflected.
'The in-between man, as you call him, is ^u^eliable,' he went on. 'We chase him out, we curse him, we slap his face, but shouldn't we to see his point of view? He's neither peasant nor master, neither fish nor fowl. His past is grim and his present is a mere twenty-five roubles a month, a starving family and being ordered about, while his future is the same twenty-five roubles and the same inferior position even if he holds on for a hundred years. He has neither education nor property, he has no time to read and go to church, and he's deaf to us because we won't let him near us. And so he lives on from day to day till he dies without hoping for anything better, underfed, afraid of being ^med out of his council flat, not knowing where to find a roof for his children. How ^ a man avoid getting drunk and stealing, how can he acquire principles in these conditions?
'Now we seem to be solving social problems,' he thought. 'And, my God, how clumsily! And what's the point ofit all?'
Bells were heard as someone drove into the yard and bowled along to the court-house: first, and then up to the porch of the big house. •
'It's You-know-who,' said the judge, looking through the window. 'Well, you're for it!'
'Let's get it over qui^ly, please,' pleaded the doctor. 'Take my ccase. out of rum if possible. I really can't spare the time.'