My Childhood by Gorky Maxim

Author:Gorky, Maxim [Gorky, Maxim]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: The Century Co.
Published: 2011-04-17T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER IX

I IMAGINE myself, in my childhood, as a hive to which all manner of simple, undistinguished people brought, as the bees bring honey, their knowledge and thoughts about life, generously enriching my soul with what they had to give. The honey was often dirty, and bitter, but it was all the same knowledge-- and honey.

After the departure of "Good-business," Uncle Peter became my friend. He was in appearance like grandfather, in that he was wizened, neat, and clean; but he was shorter and altogether smaller than grandfather. He looked like a person hardly grown-up dressed up like an old man for fun. His face was creased like a square of very fine leather, and his comical, lively eyes, with their yellow whites, danced amidst these wrinkles like siskins in a cage. His raven hair, now growing gray, was curly, his beard also fell into ringlets, and he smoked a pipe, the smoke from which--the same color as his hair--curled upward into rings too; his style of speech was florid, and abounded in quaint sayings. He always spoke in a buzzing voice, and sometimes very kindly, but I always had an idea that he was making fun of everybody.

"When I first went to her, the lady-countess Tatian --her name was Lexievna--said to me, 'You shall be blacksmith'; but after a time she orders me to go and help the gardener. 'All right, I don't mind, only I did n't engage to work as a laborer, and it is not right that I should have to.' Another time she 'd say 'Now, Petrushka, you must go fishing.' It was all one to me whether I went fishing or not, but I preferred to say 'good-by' to the fish, thank you!--and I came to the town as a drayman. And here I am, and have never been anything else. So far I have not done much good for myself by the change. The only thing I possess is the horse, which reminds me of the Countess."

This was an old horse, and was really white, but one day a drunken house painter had begun to paint it in various colors, and had never finished his job. Its legs were dislocated, and altogether it looked as if it were made of rags sewn together; the bony head, with its dim, sadly drooping eyes, was feebly attached to the carcass by swollen veins and old, worn-out skin. Uncle Peter waited upon the creature with much respect, and called it "Tankoe."

"Why do you call that animal by a Christian name?" asked grandfather one day.

"Nothing of the kind, Vassili Vassilev, nothing of the kind--in all respect I say it. There is no such Christian name as Tanka--but there is 'Tatiana'!"

Uncle Peter was educated and well-read, and he and grandfather used to quarrel as to which of the saints was the most holy; and sit in judgment, each more severely than the other, on the sinners of ancient times. The sinner who was most hardly dealt with was Absalom.

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