The Horse-stealers Page #6

"The Horse-Stealers" is a collection of short stories by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov, showcasing the author's keen observations of human nature and societal issues in late 19th-century Russia. Through a variety of characters and settings, Chekhov explores themes of morality, the struggles of everyday life, and the complexities of relationships. The titular story delves into the consequences of crime and the moral dilemmas faced by individuals, while the other pieces reflect Chekhov's signature blend of humor and poignancy, revealing the bittersweet realities of existence. This collection highlights Chekhov's skill in capturing the nuances of human emotion and the intricacies of social dynamics.

								


He went out into the open country. Here there was the scent of spring,
and a warm caressing wind was blowing. The calm, starry night looked
down from the sky on the earth. My God, how infinite the depth of the
sky, and with what fathomless immensity it stretched over the world! The
world is created well enough, only why and with what right do people,
thought Yergunov, divide their fellows into the sober and the drunken,
the employed and the dismissed, and so on. Why do the sober and well fed
sleep comfortably in their homes while the drunken and the hungry must
wander about the country without a refuge? Why was it that if anyone had
not a job and did not get a salary he had to go hungry, without clothes
and boots? Whose idea was it? Why was it the birds and the wild beasts
in the woods did not have jobs and get salaries, but lived as they
pleased?

Far away in the sky a beautiful crimson glow lay quivering, stretched
wide over the horizon. Yergunov stopped, and for a long time he gazed at
it, and kept wondering why was it that if he had carried off someone
else's samovar the day before and sold it for drink in the taverns it
would be a sin? Why was it?

Two carts drove by on the road; in one of them there was a woman asleep,
in the other sat an old man without a cap on.

"Grandfather, where is that fire?" asked Yergunov.

"Andrey Tchirikov's inn," answered the old man.

And Yergunov recalled what had happened to him eighteen months before in
the winter, in that very inn, and how Merik had boasted; and he imagined
the old woman and Lyubka, with their throats cut, burning, and he envied
Merik. And when he walked back to the tavern, looking at the houses of
the rich publicans, cattle-dealers, and blacksmiths, he reflected how
nice it would be to steal by night into some rich man's house!
								Rate this book:0.0 / 0 votes