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Updated: May 29, 2025
Onisim looked at Pyetushkov and plumped heavily down on his knees. 'Dear master, Ivan Afanasiitch, he cried, 'your honour! Be pleased to punish me. I'm a fool. I've troubled you, Ivan Afanasiitch.... How did I dare! Be pleased to punish me, your honour.... It's not worth your while to weep over my silly words ... dear master. Ivan Afanasiitch....
Onisim, for propriety's sake, was silent for a little while. 'And another thing, he began again, 'she's no feeling of gratitude whatever. Any other girl wouldn't know how to do enough to please you; while she! ... she doesn't even think of you. Why, it's simply a disgrace. Why, the things people are saying about you, one cannot repeat them, they positively cry shame on me.
Ivan Afanasiitch went straight to meet her, took her by the hand, and rather coolly, but resolutely, said to her: 'Come along with me. 'But, excuse me, Ivan Afanasiitch ... I ... 'Come with me, he repeated. She obeyed. Pyetushkov led her to his lodgings. Onisim, as usual, was lying at full length asleep. Ivan Afanasiitch waked him, told him to light a candle.
'Yes, sir, responded Onisim, as abruptly as if some one had just given him a shove from behind. Pyetushkov set off, reached the baker's shop, tapped at the window. The fat woman opened the pane. 'Give me a roll, please, Ivan Afanasiitch articulated slowly. The fat woman stuck out an arm, bare to the shoulder a huge arm, more like a leg than an arm and thrust the hot bread just under his nose.
Pyetushkov gazed a long while at Onisim without speaking, then told him to bring him his new coat. Onisim, with some surprise, obeyed. Pyetushkov dressed, and carefully drew on his chamois-leather gloves. 'You needn't go to the baker's to-day, said he with some hesitation; 'I'm going myself, ... it's on my way.
I don't intend going to see the girl at the baker's shop any more. Onisim dropped his eyelids and brandished the brush. Pyetushkov waited for his approbation; but his servant remained speechless. 'It's not the proper thing, Pyetushkov went on in a severe voice 'it's unseemly.... Come, tell me what you think? 'What am I to think? It's for you to say. What business have I to think?
You'll laugh at it yourself, later on; you'll say to me, "Onisim, why, it's marvellous how such things happen sometimes!" You just consider yourself: girls like her, they're like dogs ... you've only to whistle to them....
'Yes, thought he, 'this is what comes of a strong will.... Next day Pyetushkov got up rather late. He had not passed a very good night, did not go out all day, and was fearfully bored. Pyetushkov read through all his poor books, and praised aloud one story in the Library of Good Reading. As he went to bed, he told Onisim to give him his pipe. Onisim handed him a wretched pipe.
'Come, grumbled Onisim. 'Oh, what's that to you, Onisim Sergeitch? 'Oh, come, I tell you. 'Well, Vassilissa brought out at last, 'he's ... a gentleman. Of course ... I ... and besides; he ... you know yourself ... 'Of course I do, Onisim observed solemnly. 'Of course you're aware, to be sure, Onisim Sergeitch. ... Vassilissa was obviously becoming agitated.
Pyetushkov was on the point of opening his mouth again, but he turned over on the other side and fell asleep. Onisim went out into the passage, took a pinch of snuff, and gave his head a violent shake. The next day, early in the morning, Pyetushkov called for his clothes. Onisim brought him his everyday coat an old grass-coloured coat, with huge striped epaulettes.
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