The Little Demon, Fyodor Sologub [reading the story of the TXT] 📗

to everyone, but his views were decided and severe. A fine military discipline was apparent in all his movements, and there was a hint in his habits of the future Governor.

Peredonov began to explain his business to him across a carved oak table:

“All sorts of rumours are being spread about me and, as a gentleman,17 I turn to you. All sorts of nonsense is being said about me, your Excellency, none of which is true.”

“I haven’t heard anything,” replied Veriga, smiling amiably and expectantly, and fixing his attentive grey eyes on Peredonov.

Peredonov looked fixedly in one corner of the room and said:

“I never was a Socialist. But if it sometimes happened that I said something I oughtn’t to say, you must remember that one is apt to be a little careless in one’s young days. But I’ve given up thinking of such things altogether.”

“So you were quite a Liberal?” asked Veriga with an amiable smile. “You wanted a Constitution, isn’t that so? But we all wanted a Constitution when we were young. Have one of these.”

Veriga pushed a box of cigars towards Peredonov who was afraid to take one and refused. Veriga lighted his own.

“Of course, your Excellency,” admitted Peredonov, “in the University I, and only I, wanted a different kind of Constitution from the others.”

“And what sort precisely?” asked Veriga with a shade of approaching displeasure in his voice.

“What I wanted was a Constitution without a Parliament,” explained Peredonov, “because in a Parliament they only wrangle.”

Veriga’s eyes lit up with quiet amusement.

“A Constitution without a Parliament!” he said reflectively. “Do you think it’s practical?”

“But even that was a long time ago,” said Peredonov. “Now I want nothing of the sort.”

And he looked hopefully at Veriga.

Veriga blew a thin wisp of smoke from his lips, was silent a moment, and then said slowly:

“Well, you’re a schoolmaster. And my duties in the district have something to do with the schools. Now, in your opinion, to what kind of school would you give preference: to the Parish Church Schools or to the so-called secularised District Schools?”

Veriga knocked the ash from his cigar and fixed an amiable but very attentive gaze on Peredonov. Peredonov frowned, looked into the corners and said:

“The District Schools ought to be reorganised.”

“Reorganised,” repeated Veriga in an indefinite tone. “So-o.”

And he fixed his eyes on the smouldering cigar, as if he were awaiting a long explanation.

“The Instructors there are Nihilists,” said Peredonov. “The Instructresses don’t believe in God. They stand in church and blow their noses.”

Veriga glanced quickly at Peredonov and said with a smile:

“But that’s necessary sometimes, you know.”

“Yes, but the one I mean blows her nose like a horn, so that the boys in the choir laugh,” growled Peredonov. “She does it on purpose. That’s the sort Skobotchkina is.”

“Yes, that is unpleasant,” said Veriga, “but in Skobotchkina’s case it’s due to a bad bringing up. She’s a girl altogether without manners, but an enthusiastic schoolmistress. In any case it’s not nice: she must be told about it.”

“And she walks about in a red shirt. And sometimes she even walks barefoot in a sarafan. She practises at the high-jumps with the little boys. It’s too free in the schools,” went on Peredonov. “There’s no discipline of any kind. They actually don’t want to chastise the pupils. The muzhiks’ children shouldn’t be treated in the same way as the children of gentlemen⁠—they have to be birched.”

Veriga looked calmly at Peredonov, then, as if feeling uneasy at Peredonov’s untactful remarks, he lowered his eyes, and said in a cold, almost gubernatorial tone:

“I must say that I have noticed many good qualities in pupils from District Schools. Undoubtedly, in the great majority of cases, they do their work very conscientiously. Of course, as everywhere, the children are sometimes guilty of offences. In consequence of a bad upbringing and of a poor environment, these offences can take a coarse form, all the more since among the Russian village population the general feelings of duty, of honour and respect of private ownership are little developed. The school should concern itself with these offences attentively and sternly. When all methods of persuasion are exhausted and if the offence is a severe one, then of course it should follow that in order not to ruin the boy extreme measures must be taken. Besides, this should apply to all children, even to those of gentlemen. In general, however, I agree with you that in schools of this kind training is not satisfactorily organised. Madame Shteven,18 in her extremely interesting book⁠—have you read it?”

“No, your Excellency,” said Peredonov in confusion, “I never have the time. There’s so much work in school. But I will read it.”

“Well, that’s not altogether necessary,” said Veriga with a smile, as if he were forbidding Peredonov’s reading it. “Yes, Madame Shteven recounts with distress that two of her pupils, young men of seventeen, were sentenced to be birched by the District Court. You see, they were proud young fellows⁠—let me add that we all suffered while they suffered the execution of the sentence⁠—this penalty was afterwards abolished. And, let me say that if I were in Madame Shteven’s place I would like to let all Russia know that this has happened: because, just imagine, they were sentenced for stealing apples. Observe, for stealing! And what’s more she writes that they were her very best pupils. Yet they stole the apples! Fine bringing up! It must frankly be admitted that we don’t respect the rights of ownership.”

Veriga rose from his place in agitation, made two steps forward, but controlled himself and immediately sat down again.

“Now when I am an inspector of National Schools I shall do things differently,” said Peredonov.

“Have you that position in prospect?” asked Veriga.

“Yes, Princess Volchanskaya has promised me.”

Veriga assumed an expression of pleasure.

“I shall be very glad to congratulate you. I have no doubt that in your hands things will be improved.”

“But, your Excellency, in the town they’re spreading all sorts