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Updated: June 2, 2025
'Semyon Zaharovitch is in the service again, now, and receiving a salary, says she, 'and he went himself to his excellency and his excellency himself came out to him, made all the others wait and led Semyon Zaharovitch by the hand before everybody into his study. Do you hear, do you hear?
"Ask her," said Semyon Yakovlevitch to the verger, who went to the partition. "Have you done what Semyon Yakovlevitch bade you last time?" he asked the widow in a soft and measured voice. "Done it! Father Semyon Yakovlevitch. How can one do it with them?" wailed the widow. "They're cannibals; they're lodging a complaint against me, in the court; they threaten to take it to the senate.
Semyon, lying with his stomach on the tiller, looked mockingly at him and said: "Even in Siberia people can live can li-ive!" There was a triumphant expression on Canny's face, as though he had proved something and was delighted that things had happened as he had foretold. The unhappy helplessness of the man in the foxskin coat evidently afforded him great pleasure.
What ought I to have given, in order to do what Semyon had done? he had six hundred kopeks; out of this he gave one, and afterwards two. I had six hundred thousand rubles.
Ah, well, women's hair is long... but their wit is short! Never mind; I'll be even with you yet, and that pretty young gentleman shall smart for it too! I had, of course, to bear all these insults in silence. Semyon Matveitch I did not once see again. The separation from his son had been a shock to him too.
And as for kissing, old men know all about that too, he-he-he... Semyon Matveitch laughed again. 'Come, please... your little hand... just as a proof... that's all.... I jumped up from the chair, and with all my force I gave him a blow in the chest. He tottered, he uttered a sort of decrepit, scared sound, he almost fell down.
From that time dates his cheerfulness, that eternal laugh of his; at first it was an effort to adapt himself to his patron... in the end it became a habit. It was then, too, that he became a Russian patriot. Semyon Matveitch was an admirer of everything national, he called himself 'a true Russian bear, and ridiculed the European dress, which he wore however.
He scarcely moved out of his hut. His wife used to do all his work. The other track-walker, nearer the station, was a young man, thin, but muscular. He and Semyon met for the first time on the line midway between the huts. Semyon took off his hat and bowed. "Good health to you, neighbour," he said. The neighbour glanced askance at him. "How do you do?" he replied; then turned around and made off.
"Come, friend, don't say that; a wolf eats wolf." "The words came into my mind and I said it. All the same, there is nothing crueller than man. If it were not for his wickedness and greed, it would be possible to live. Everybody tries to sting you to the quick, to bite and eat you up." Semyon pondered a bit.
"Be sure it's by way of a prophecy," said some one in the crowd. "Another pound for her, another!" Semyon Yakovlevitch persisted. There was a whole sugar-loaf still on the table, but the saint ordered a pound to be given, and they gave her a pound. "Lord have mercy on us!" gasped the people, crossing themselves. "It's surely a prophecy."
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