What Is to Be Done?

his father copy papers, and he gave lessons while he was still in the fourth class in the gymnasium. They both, by their own exertion, without connections, without acquaintances, made their own way. What sort of a man was Lopukhóf? In the gymnasium he did not succeed in learning French, and he did not go further in German than the declension of der, die, das, with few mistakes; but after he entered the medical school, Lopukhóf soon saw that he could not make great progress in science with the Russian language alone; he took a French dictionary and such French books as happened to be at hand, and those that fell into his hands were: Télémaque and the stories of Madame Genlis, and several livraisons of our clever journal Revue Etrangère. They were not very attractive books, but he took them; and though he was an eager reader, he said, “I shall not open a Russian book until I am able to read French fluently.” And thus he learned French fluently. But he acted differently in regard to German: he rented a room in a house where there were a good many German laborers; it was a wretched hole; the Germans were tiresome; it was a long walk to the medical school, but he lived there until he had accomplished what he needed.

Kirsánof did in a different way: he learned the German through different books, with a lexicon, just as Lopukhóf learned French, but French he acquired in a peculiar fashion⁠—through one book without a lexicon. It was the Gospels⁠—a very familiar book; and he took the New Testament, in the translation of Geneva; then he read it over eight times; the ninth time he understood it thoroughly; and so he mastered it. What kind of a man was Lopukhóf? This was what he was. One time he was walking in a shabby uniform on the Kammenoi-Ostrof Prospekt, on his way from his lesson, for which he got fifty kopeks (thirty cents) an hour, though he had to go a distance of three versts from the lyceum. A distinguished somebody, of imposing mien, met him, motions him out of the way in the manner of men of imposing mien, and bears straight down upon him without giving way. But Lopukhóf, at that time, had a rule, not to be the first to turn out for anybody except a woman. They bumped against each other with their shoulders, and the distinguished somebody, half turning about, said, “What a pig, what a hog you are!” but while he was preparing to continue the lesson, Lopukhóf made a full turn towards the distinguished somebody, took the distinguished somebody by the body, and deposited him in the gutter very tenderly; then he stood over him, and said, “Don’t you move, else I will drag you farther where the mud is deeper.” Two muzhiks passed, looked on, praised him; a tchinovnik passed, looked at him, and did not praise him, but smiled sweetly; some carriages passed by; no one looked out; it could not be seen who was lying in the gutter; Lopukhóf stood there for a time, then he took the distinguished somebody, not by the body this time, but by the hand, picked him up, led him upon the highway, and said, “Akh, my dear sir, how did you happen to get into this plight? You have not done yourself any harm, I hope? Allow me to brush your coat!”

A muzhik passed by, and began to help wipe the dirt off from the distinguished somebody. Two meshchaníns passed; they also stopped to help wipe him off; they wiped the dirt off from the distinguished somebody, and departed.

Kirsánof never had such an experience as that; but this was what happened to him: A certain lady, who had people to run errands for her, thought that it was necessary to have prepared a catalogue of the library left her by her husband, who was a follower of Voltaire, and had died twenty years before. Why such a catalogue was needed, after the lapse of twenty years, is more than I can tell. Kirsánof was selected to arrange the catalogue, at a salary of eighty rubles. He worked at it a month and a half. Suddenly the lady came to the conclusion that the catalogue was not necessary. She came into the library and said: “Don’t take any more trouble about this work; I have changed my mind. And here’s to pay you”; and she gave Kirsánof ten rubles. “Your ladyship” (he gave the lady the benefit of her full title), “I have already done more than half the work; out of seventeen shelves I have already catalogued ten.”

“Do you find that I have taken advantage of you as regards pay?⁠—Nicolas, come here and talk this matter over with this gentleman.”

Nicholas came in.

“How do you dare to insult my maman?”

“You are a milk-sucker!”

An unjustifiable expression on Kirsánof’s part. Nicolas was five years older than he.

“You had better hear both sides first.”

“Help!” cried Nicolas.

“Help? I will show you how to call for help.”

In the twinkling of an eye the lady screamed and fell in a swoon; and Nicolas felt that he could not move his hands, which were fixed to his sides, as by an iron belt; and indeed they were pinned by Kirsánof’s right hand, while his left hand had Nicolas by the jaw, ready to clutch his throat, and Kirsánof was saying, “Just see how easily I can choke you.” And he squeezed his gullet; and Nicolas perceived that it was a very easy thing for Kirsánof to choke him; but Kirsánof’s hand has already left his throat. He can breathe freely; and yet Kirsánof’s hand is at his throat. And Kirsánof addressing the Goliaths who appeared at the door, says: “Stay where you are, else I shall choke him! Get