Page:The Kiss and Other Stories by Anton Tchekhoff, 1908.pdf/126

 bright spots and at once vanished — the rising sun strove to pierce the clouds and look upon the earth.

“And the forests?” stammered Meliton.

“And the forests,” repeated the shepherd. “The forests are cut down, burnt, and dried up, and no new trees grow. What does grow is soon cut down; to-day it is up — to-morrow — look over your shoulder! — and down it's cut. . . . And so on without end until none remain! I, good man, have been watching the village flock ever since the Emancipation, and before that I was shepherd to the squire, shepherd in this very place; and I can't recall a summer day in all my life when I wasn't here. And all those years I observe the world of God. I have seen with my own eyes, brother; and I can tell you that all things that grow are on the way to ruin. Take rye, or oats, or even any flower; they're all on their way to the same end.”

“The people, perhaps, are better?” said the steward.

“How better?”

“Cleverer.”

“Cleverer maybe. Yes, that's true, but what good is cleverness? What use are brains to people on the brink of ruin? You don't want your brains to die. What good are brains to the sportsman if there is no game? That's just how I reason it: God's given us men brains, and taken away our strength. The people have grown weak, too weak to talk about. Look at me! I have not a kopeck of money; K