The Cause of it All

by Leo Tolstoy

AKULÍNA. And I think it's all in oneself.

TRAMP. Of course it's in oneself as long as one is well, but this is a kind of disease.

TARÁS. A nice kind of disease. A good hiding would soon cure that disease. Well, goodbye for the present. [ Exit ].

MARTHA[ wipes her hands and turns to go ].

AKULÍNA[ sees that the Tramp has finished his bread ] Martha, I say, Martha! Cut him another piece.

MARTHA. Bother him, I must get the samovár to boil. [ Exit ].

Akulína rises, goes to the table, cuts a chunk of bread and gives it to the Tramp.

TRAMP. Merci, I have acquired a great appetite.

AKULÍNA. Are you a workman?

TRAMP. Who? I? I was a mechanic.