"Yes, it is true that I am good to every one, only I do not show it. It does not do to show that to people, or they will be all over you. They will crawl over those who are kind as if they were mounds in a morass, and trample on them. Go and get me some beer."
Having drunk the bottle, he sucked his mustache and said:
"If you were older, my bird, I could teach you a lot. I have something to say to a man. I am no fool. But you must read books. In them you will find all you need. They are not rubbish—books. Would you like some beer?"
"I don't care for it."
"Good boy! And you do well not to drink it. Drunkenness is a misfortune. Vodka is the devil's own business. If I were rich, I would spur you on to study. An uninstructed man is an ox, fit for nothing but the yoke or to serve as meat. All he can do is to wave his tail."
The captain's wife gave him a volume of Gogol. I read "The Terrible Vengeance" and was delighted with it, but Smouri cried angrily:
"Rubbish! A fairy-tale! I know. There are other books."
He took the book away from me, obtained another one from the captain's wife, and ordered me harshly:
"Read Tarass'—what do you call it? Find it! She says it is good; good for whom? It may be good for her, but not for me, eh? She cuts her hair short. It is a pity her ears were not cut off too."
When Tarass called upon Ostap to fight, the cook laughed loudly.