A rich merchant at Perm had a travelling carriage for sale. The doctor called on him and delivered the following speech all in a breath. “You are selling a carriage, I need one. Because you are rich and a millionaire, everyone respects you, and I have come to testify my respect for the same reason. Owing to your wealth, it does not matter twopence to you whether you sell the carriage or not; but I need it, and I am poor. You will want to squeeze me and take advantage of my necessity; therefore you will ask 1,500 roubles for it. I shall offer 700 roubles; I shall come every day to haggle over the price, and after a week you will let me have it for 750 or 800. Might we not as well begin at once at that point? I am prepared to pay that sum.” The merchant was so astonished that he let the doctor have the carriage at his own figure.
But there was no end to the stories of Chebotarev’s eccentricity. I shall add two more.
§4
I was present once when a lady, a rather clever and cultivated woman, asked him if he believed in mesmerism. “What do you mean by mesmerism?” he asked. The lady talked the usual nonsense in reply. “It does not matter twopence to you,” he said, “to know whether I believe in mesmerism or not; but if you like, I will tell you what I have seen in that way.” “Please do.” “Yes; but you must listen attentively,” and then he began to describe some experiments made by a friend of his, a doctor at Khárkov; his description was very lively, clever, and interesting.
While he was talking, a servant brought in some refreshments on a tray, and was leaving the room when the lady said, “You have forgotten the mustard.” Chebotarev stopped dead. “Go on, go on,” said the lady, a little frightened already. “I’m listening to you.” “Pray, Madam, has he remembered the salt?” “I see you are angry with me,” said the lady, blushing. “Not in the least, I assure you. I know that you were listening attentively; but I also know that no woman, however intelligent she may be and whatever may be the subject under discussion, can ever soar higher than the kitchen. How then could I venture to be angry with you in particular?”
Another story about him. Being employed as a doctor at the factories of a Countess Pollier, he took a fancy to a boy he saw there, and wished to have him for a servant. The boy was willing, but the steward said that the consent of the Countess must first be obtained. The doctor wrote to her, and she replied that he might have the boy, on condition of paying down a sum equal to the payments due to her from the boy during the next five years. The doctor wrote at once to express his willingness, but he asked her to answer this question. “As Encke’s comet may be expected to pass through the orbit of the earth in three years and a half from now, who will be responsible for repaying the money I have advanced, in case the comet drives the earth out of its orbit?”
§5
On the day I left for Vyatka, the doctor turned up at my house early in the morning. He began with this witticism. “You are like Horace: he sang once and people have been translating him ever since, and so you are translated[[91]] from place to place for that song you sang.” Then he pulled out his purse and asked if I needed money for the journey. I thanked him and declined his offer. “Why don’t you take it? It won’t cost you twopence.” “I have money.” “A bad sign,” he said; “the end of the world is coming.” Then he opened his notebook and made this entry. “For the first time in fifteen years’ practice I have met a man who refused money, and that man was on the eve of departure.”
[91]. The same Russian verb means ‘to translate’ and ‘to transfer.’
Having had his jest, he sat down on my bed and said seriously: “That’s a terrible man you are going to. Keep out of his way as much as ever you can. If he takes a fancy to you, that says little in your favour; but if he dislikes you, he will certainly ruin you; what weapon he will use, false accusation or not, I don’t know, but ruin you he will; he won’t care twopence.”