"What a rich name to be sure, he takes a whole line all to himself;" and he then continued, "when among the living, were you a clever fellow in your profession, or simply a clumsy mouzhik; and were did you meet your death-blow? Was it in a dram-shop, or on the high road, or were you surrounded by those dear to you by the ties of nature? Stephen Korobka, joiner, a sober and steady man. Ah! here he is, Stephen Korobka, that is the fellow, who, according to Sobakevitch, would have been a giant in the Imperial Life-Guards! No doubt the poor fellow wandered about in obscurity with a hatchet on his side, and his boots across his shoulders, making his meals at the slender expense of one copek for brown bread, and two for dried fish, whilst, on returning home from his yearly work, he would bring with him a purse stuffed with silver roubles, and perhaps have some bank notes sewn up between the lining of his shirt or boots—where are you now? Have you, anxious for larger profits, been even as far as Moscow, and elevated yourself as high as the spire of Ivan Veliki, and tried to ring the changes on an Easter-night, but unsuccessfully fallen to the ground, whilst some more clever fellow than yourself standing close by would scratch himself behind the ear, and say: 'poor Stephen, can't you stand the noise?' and coolly take your place.
"Maxim Teliatnikoff, shoemaker—shoemaker. Oh, ah, a shoemaker! 'drunk like a cobbler,' says our proverb. I know you, know you well, my fine fellow; if you like, I can tell you in a few words your own history; you were brought up to your trade by a native from Germany, who fed you at the same table, and beat your shoulders with the same strap to punish you for your own neglect and carelessness, and kept you at work and strictly in doors; at that time you were really an excellent fellow, but not a cobbler, and your German master thought that he could not praise you enough in the presence of his wife or friends. But when you had finished your apprenticeship, you said to yourself: 'now I will keep a strap myself, and not have to scrape together, one by one, the copper copeks as my German master used to do.' Thinking thus, you contrived to pay your yearly impost to your lawful master, and were allowed to remain in town and set up in your profession. You succeeded so far well enough, for you happened to obtain numerous orders by way of encouragement, and you sat down to your work. Some wretched tanner supplied you with rotten leather, three times cheaper, it is true, than you could have bought a good material for; and really for a short time you even succeeded in making double profit upon each pair of boots you sold; but in about two weeks later, the boots of your manufacture were completely worn out, and you were called by your customers all sorts of names. In consequence of this mode of dealing, your shop was soon deserted by them, and by yourself; because you took to drinking and rolling about the streets, whilst in your state of intoxication you would often exclaim: 'No, really there is no consolation in life! we Russians cannot make a decent living, these foreigners push themselves forward everywhere, they positively take the very bread out of our mouths!'
"What peasant have we here? Elizabeth Vorobei. What a shame! a woman! how has she got among the men? He is a thorough cheat, that fellow Sobakevitch, even here he has tried to take advantage over me!" Tchichikoff was right, it was really a woman. How she had slipped among the men, it was quite impossible to tell, but certainly it was done very cleverly, for the woman might at a first glance have easily been taken for a man. However, he did not take the imposition in good part, and struck the name from the list at once.
"Gregory Dogeschainedogedish! What sort of a man have you been, I wonder? Were you perhaps one of those carriers by profession, driving your gallant troika from town to town, and fair to fair, bidding a long farewell to your family and friends to go and lead a wandering life in the service of some travelling tradesman between Russia and China? Did you surrender your soul to Heaven on the high road, or were you carried to your last resting-place by your village kindred, and your mourning wife and children?
"And you, my fine fellows?" he continued, as he cast a glance over the list of run-away serfs belonging to Pluschkin.
"Although you may be alive, yet where is the advantage of possessing you? you are as worthless as your dead brethren, and Heaven only knows whither your swift feet have borne you? Were you really so ill-used by old Pluschkin that you thought it better to run away, or were you naturally inclined to become vagabonds, and now plunder travellers on the high road and in the forests? Are you perhaps incarcerated in some gloomy prison, awaiting your sentence, or have you become the property of a new master, and are at this moment tilling the land of another lord?
"Jeremy Kariakin, Nikita Volokita, and Antony Volokita his son; these fellows, I presume, were excellent run-aways, if I am to judge by the first and classical syllables of their name. Some one of you, I can have no doubt, has had the misfortune to fall into the hands of what you call in the country the Capitän-Ispravnik, who, as a gentleman strictly looking after passport regulations, has no doubt cross-examined you on the subject, and perhaps in the following terms:
"'Whose serf are you?' said he, perhaps, in his imperative voice, whilst interspersing his question with a few strong and fitting terms.
"'I am the serf of such and such a nobleman,' you will have answered boldly.
"'Why are you here?' demands again the military Capitan.