Little Apples

FROM THE NOTEBOOK OF A COUNTRY SQUIRE

Upon his retirement, State Councilor Kaprikornov bought himself a small country estate on which he settled. There, in imitation partly of Cincinnatus, partly of the mushroom specialist Professor Kaigorodov, he toiled the land and recorded his observations on nature. After his death his notes, along with the rest of his property, was transferred by his last will and testament to his housekeeper, Marfa Evlampiyevna, a devoted old soul who had the manor house pulled down and a sturdy tavern that served liquor built in its place. This tavern had a special clean room for traveling landowners and officials, and on the table in that room she placed the deceased’s bundle of notes, in case someone needed a piece of scrap paper. One of these pieces of paper has fallen into my hands; from what I could surmise, it must have been from the beginning of the deceased’s agricultural notes, and contains the following entries:

March 3. The birds of spring are now arriving. Yesterday I saw some sparrows. Greetings to you, O children of southern climes! In your sweet chirping I believe I hear you calling back to me: “And a good day to you, Your Excellency!”

March 14. Today I asked Marfa Evlampiyevna: “Why does our cockerel crow so often?” Her answer: “Because he has a throat.” So I said: “I, too, have a throat, and yet I do not crow!” Oh the mysteries of nature!

All the years I served in St. Petersburg I often ate turkeys, but saw my first live one yesterday. A most remarkable bird.

March 22. The village constable came by. We had a long talk—I seated, he standing—about the virtues. As we conversed, he asked me: “If given the opportunity, Your Excellency, would you wish to be young again?” To which I replied: “No, I would not. If I were young again I would not have the high rank I have attained.” He agreed with me, and, visibly moved, went on his way.

April 16. With my own hands I dug two vegetable beds in the garden and sowed semolina in them. I did not tell a soul about this, as I wanted the semolina beds to be a surprise for dear Marfa Evlampiyevna, to whom I owe so many happy moments. Yesterday, as we were having tea, she lamented the condition her figure was in, complaining that her size no longer allowed her to fit through the pantry door. I remarked to her: “On the contrary, my dearest, the fullness of your form frames you most wonderfully and fans my inclination.” She blushed, and I stood up and embraced her with both arms (as one can no longer reach around her with just one).

May 28. An old man who saw me by the women’s bathing place asked me why I was sitting there. To which I replied: “I am keeping watch to make sure that no young men approach.” “Let us both keep watch,” the old man said, and, sitting down next to me, we began to discuss the virtues.