The Two Old Men Page #3

"The Two Old Men" is a short moral tale by Leo Tolstoy that explores themes of friendship, generosity, and the human capacity for kindness. The story revolves around two elderly men who, despite their different approaches to life, embark on a journey together. As they encounter various challenges and situations, they reflect on their past decisions and life lessons. Ultimately, the narrative highlights the importance of compassion and understanding in nurturing meaningful relationships and the value of selflessness in human interactions. Through its simple yet profound storytelling, Tolstoy invites readers to contemplate their own values and behaviors in the context of friendship and community.

• Short story

								

another slice and gave it to the old woman. She took it and began to
chew at it.

"If you would just bring us some water," she said. "Their lips are
parched. I wanted to bring some yesterday or to-day,--I do not remember
when,--but I fell down and left the pail there, if nobody took it away."

Eliséy asked where their well was. The old woman told him where. Eliséy
went out. He found the pail, brought some water, and gave the people to
drink. The children ate some more bread with water, and the old woman
ate some, but the man would not eat.

"My stomach will not hold it," he said.

The woman did not get up or come to: she was just tossing on the bed
place. Eliséy went to the shop, and bought millet, salt, flour, and
butter. He found an axe, chopped some wood, and made a fire in the oven.
The girl helped him. Eliséy cooked a soup and porridge, and fed the
people.


V.

The man ate a little, and so did the old woman, and the girl and the
little boy licked the bowl clean and embraced each other and fell
asleep.

The man and the old woman told Eliséy how it had all happened.

"We lived heretofore poorly," they said, "but when the crop failed us,
we ate up in the fall everything we had. When we had nothing left, we
began to beg from our neighbours and from good people. At first they
gave us some, but later they refused. Some of them would have been
willing to give us to eat, but they had nothing themselves. Besides we
felt ashamed to beg: we owed everybody money and flour and bread. I
looked for work," said the man, "but could find none. People were
everywhere looking for work to get something to eat. One day I would
work, and two I would go around looking for more work. The old woman and
the girl went a distance away to beg, but the alms were poor,--nobody
had any bread. Still, we managed to get something to eat: we thought we
might squeeze through until the new crop; but in the spring they quit
giving us alms altogether, and sickness fell upon us. It grew pretty
bad: one day we would have something to eat, and two we went without it.
We began to eat grass. And from the grass, or from some other reason,
the woman grew sick. She lay down, and I had no strength, and we had
nothing with which to improve matters."

"I was the only one," the old woman said, "who worked: but I gave out
and grew weak, as I had nothing to eat. The girl, too, grew weak and
lost her courage. I sent her to the neighbours, but she did not go. She
hid herself in a corner and would not go. A neighbour came in two days
ago, but when she saw that we were hungry and sick, she turned around
and went out. Her husband has left, and she has nothing with which to
feed her young children. So we were lying here and waiting for death."

When Eliséy heard what they said, he changed his mind about catching up
with his companion, and remained there overnight. In the morning Eliséy
got up and began to work about the house as though he were the master.
He set bread with the old woman and made a fire in the oven. He went
with the girl to the neighbours to fetch what was necessary. Everything
he wanted to pick up was gone: there was nothing left for farming, and
the clothes were used up. Eliséy got everything which was needed: some
things he made himself, and some he bought. Eliséy stayed with them one
day, and a second, and a third. The little boy regained his strength,
and he began to walk on the bench and to make friends with Eliséy. The
girl, too, became quite cheerful and helped him in everything. She kept
running after Eliséy: "Grandfather, grandfather!"

The old woman got up and went to her neighbour. The man began to walk by
holding on to the wall. Only the woman was lying down. On the third day
she came to and asked for something to eat.

"Well," thought Eliséy, "I had not expected to lose so much time. Now I
must go."


VI.

The fourth day was the last of a fast, and Eliséy said to himself:

"I will break fast with them. I will buy something for them for the
holidays, and in the evening I must leave."

Eliséy went once more to the village and bought milk, white flour, and
lard. He and the old woman cooked and baked a lot of things, and in the
morning Eliséy went to mass and came back and broke fast with the
people. On that day the woman got up and began to move about. The man
shaved himself, put on a clean shirt,--the old woman had washed it for
him,--and went to a rich peasant to ask a favour of him. His mowing and
field were mortgaged to the rich man, so he went to ask him to let him
have the mowing and the field until the new crop. He came back gloomy in
the evening, and burst out weeping. The rich man would not show him the
favour; he had asked him to bring the money.

Eliséy fell to musing.

"How are they going to live now? People will be going out to mow, but
they cannot go, for it is all mortgaged. The rye will ripen and people
will begin to harvest it (and there is such a fine stand of it!), but
they have nothing to look forward to,--their desyatína is sold to the
rich peasant. If I go away, they will fall back into poverty."

And Eliséy was in doubt, and did not go away in the evening, but put it
off until morning. He went into the yard to sleep. He said his prayers
and lay down, but could not fall asleep.

"I ought to go,--as it is I have spent much time and money; but I am
sorry for the people. You can't help everybody. I meant to bring them
some water and give each a slice of bread, but see how far I have gone.
Now I shall have to buy out his mowing and field. And if I buy out the
field, I might as well buy a cow for the children, and a horse for the
man to haul his sheaves with. Brother Eliséy Kuzmích, you are in for it!
You have let yourself loose, and now you will not straighten out
things."

Eliséy got up, took the caftan from under his head, and unrolled it; he
drew out his snuff-horn and took a pinch, thinking that he would clear
his thoughts, but no,--he thought and thought and could not come to any
conclusion. He ought to get up and go, but he was sorry for the people.
He did not know what to do. He rolled the caftan up under his head and
lay down to sleep. He lay there for a long time, and the cocks crowed,
and then only did he fall asleep. Suddenly he felt as though some one
had wakened him. He saw himself all dressed, with his wallet and staff,
and he had to pass through a gate, but it was just open enough to let a
man squeeze through. He went to the gate and his wallet caught on one
side, and as he was about to free it, one of his leg-rags got caught on
the other side and came open. He tried to free the leg-rag, but it was
not caught in the wicker fence: it was the girl who was holding on to
it, and crying, "Grandfather, grandfather, bread!" He looked at his
foot, and there was the little boy holding on to it, and the old woman

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