audience was some new person who was hearing the famous story for the
first time, he would take his hand, lay it on his skull and make him
feel the scar of the wound.... It really was a fearful wound and the
scar reached from one ear to the other.
1867.
THE DOG
'But if one admits the possibility of the supernatural, the
possibility of its participation in real life, then allow me to ask
what becomes of common sense?' Anton Stepanitch pronounced and he
folded his arms over his stomach.
Anton Stepanitch had the grade of a civil councillor, served in some
incomprehensible department and, speaking emphatically and stiffly in
a bass voice, enjoyed universal respect. He had not long before, in
the words of those who envied him, 'had the Stanislav stuck on to
him.'
'That's perfectly true,' observed Skvorevitch.
'No one will dispute that,' added Kinarevitch.
'I am of the same opinion,' the master of the house, Finoplentov,
chimed in from the corner in falsetto.
'Well, I must confess, I cannot agree, for something supernatural has
happened to me myself,' said a bald, corpulent middle-aged gentleman
of medium height, who had till then sat silent behind the stove. The
eyes of all in the room turned to him with curiosity and surprise, and
there was a silence.
The man was a Kaluga landowner of small means who had lately come to
Petersburg. He had once served in the Hussars, had lost money at
cards, had resigned his commission and had settled in the country. The
recent economic reforms had reduced his income and he had come to the
capital to look out for a suitable berth. He had no qualifications and
no connections, but he confidently relied on the friendship of an old
comrade who had suddenly, for no visible reason, become a person of
importance, and whom he had once helped in thrashing a card sharper.
Moreover, he reckoned on his luck--and it did not fail him: a few days
after his arrival in town he received the post of superintendent of
government warehouses, a profitable and even honourable position,
which did not call for conspicuous abilities: the warehouses
themselves had only a hypothetical existence and indeed it was not
very precisely known with what they were to be filled--but they had
been invented with a view to government economy.
Anton Stepanitch was the first to break the silence.
'What, my dear sir,' he began, 'do you seriously maintain that
something supernatural has happened to you? I mean to say, something
inconsistent with the laws of nature?'
'I do maintain it,' replied the gentleman addressed as 'My dear sir,'
whose name was Porfiry Kapitonitch.
'Inconsistent with the laws of nature!' Anton Stepanitch repeated
angrily; apparently he liked the phrase.
'Just so ... yes; it was precisely what you say.'
'That's amazing! What do you think of it,
gentlemen?' Anton Stepanitch tried to give
his features an ironical expression, but without
effect--or to speak more accurately, merely
with the effect of suggesting that the dignified
civil councillor had detected an unpleasant
smell. 'Might we trouble you, dear sir,' he
went on, addressing the Kaluga landowner, 'to
