"They have put a young crane to watch old mice."
My duties were a cruel trial to me. I felt ashamed in the presence of these people. They all seemed to possess some special knowledge which was hidden from the rest of the world, and I had to watch them as if they had been thieves and tricksters. The first part of the time it was very hard for me, but Osip soon noticed this, and one day he said to me privately:
"Look here, young fellow, you won't do any good by sulking—understand?"
Of course I did not understand, but I felt that he realized the absurdity of my position, and I soon arrived at a frank understanding with him.
He took me aside in a corner and explained:
"If you want to know, the biggest thief among us is the bricklayer, Petrukha. He is a man with a large family, and he is greedy. You want to watch him well. Nothing is too small for him; everything comes in handy. A pound of nails, a dozen of bricks, a bag of mortar—he 'll take all. He is a good man, God-fearing, of severe ideas, and well educated, but he loves to steal! Ephimushka lives like a woman. He is peaceable, and is harmless as far as you are concerned. He is clever, too—humpbacks are never fools! And there's Gregory Shishlin. He has a fad—he will neither take from others nor give of his own. He works for nothing; any one can take him in, but he can deceive no one. He is not governed by his reason."
"He is good, then?"
Osip looked at me as if I were a long way from him, and uttered these memorable words:
"True enough, he is good. To be good is the easiest way for lazy people. To be good, my boy, does not need brains."
"And what about you?" I asked Osip.