There were two great days in the year for Michael Petroff.
One was his birthday, the sixteenth of May. Michael Petroff never forgot it. On May sixteenth he would walk about with an important air, and looking about him he would say to every one he met: "This is my birthday. I thank you for your good wishes!" The attendant always came before dinner and asked him to come to Dr. März's room to receive his congratulations.
Then Michael Petroff would go, with quick, light steps to Dr. März's parlor, shake hands with him and thank him for the wonderful bouquet of white roses that Dr. März gave him.
Michael never suspected where the bunch of white roses came from. He did not know that, on his birthday, his wife and daughter stood behind the portiere of the parlor, nor that they made the long journey every year to see him. The first few years the Captain's wife had had golden hair, but it had gradually turned gray, and now it was white, although she was still quite a young woman. Formerly she used to come alone, but for three years past she had always been accompanied by a young lady, who wept bitterly when she arrived and when she went away. This young lady had but one ear and concealed the disfigurement by the way in which she dressed her hair. Michael Petroff had cut off her other ear when she was only a child, during the first outbreak of his malady.
Michael Petroff chatted and laughed pleasantly with the head physician and carried the roses to his friend, the lawyer.
"Here are some flowers for you. I do not want them!"
The lawyer's eyes opened wide with delight, and he took the roses carefully as if they were fragile.
Michael Petroff's second great day was that on which his newspaper appeared.
The paper was always printed in the town. Michael Petroff had induced the porter of the Sanatorium to undertake take this commission. The porter delivered the manuscript to the printer and brought back the twenty-five printed copies to Michael Petroff. And then for a few days he was in a state of the greatest excitement. He sent the paper to the doctors, especially to Dr. März, and waited in suspense to see what effect it would have. At such times he could not work, but wandered about the house and garden all day. If he met a doctor, he would stop and cast a triumphant glance at him, smiling as if secure of victory.
But a few days later he would question the doctors: "May I ask whether you have received a newspaper?"