What Men Live By
What Men Live ByWHAT MEN LIVE BYTHREE QUESTIONSTHE COFFEE-HOUSE OF SURATHOW MUCH LAND DOES A MAN NEED?Notes:NotesCopyright
What Men Live By
Leo Tolstoy
WHAT MEN LIVE BY
A shoemaker named Simon, who had neither house nor land of
his own, lived with his wife and children in a peasant's hut, and
earned his living by his work. Work was cheap, but bread was dear,
and what he earned he spent for food. The man and his wife had but
one sheepskin coat between them for winter wear, and even that was
torn to tatters, and this was the second year he had been wanting
to buy sheepskins for a new coat. Before winter Simon saved up a
little money: a three-rouble note lay hidden in his wife's box, and
five roubles and twenty kopeks were owed him by customers in the
village.So one morning he prepared to go to the village to buy the
sheep-skins. He put on over his shirt his wife's wadded nankeen
jacket, and over that he put his own cloth coat. He took the
three-rouble note in his pocket, cut himself a stick to serve as a
staff, and started off after breakfast. "I'll collect the five
roubles that are due to me," thought he, "add the three I have got,
and that will be enough to buy sheep-skins for the winter
coat."He came to the village and called at a peasant's hut, but the
man was not at home. The peasant's wife promised that the money
should be paid next week, but she would not pay it herself. Then
Simon called on another peasant, but this one swore he had no
money, and would only pay twenty kopeks which he owed for a pair of
boots Simon had mended. Simon then tried to buy the sheep-skins on
credit, but the dealer would not trust him."Bring your money," said he, "then you may have your pick of
the skins. We know what debt-collecting is like." So all the
business the shoemaker did was to get the twenty kopeks for boots
he had mended, and to take a pair of felt boots a peasant gave him
to sole with leather.Simon felt downhearted. He spent the twenty kopeks on vodka,
and started homewards without having bought any skins. In the
morning he had felt the frost; but now, after drinking the vodka,
he felt warm, even without a sheep-skin coat. He trudged along,
striking his stick on the frozen earth with one hand, swinging the
felt boots with the other, and talking to himself.I"I'm quite warm," said he, "though I have no sheep-skin coat.
I've had a drop, and it runs through all my veins. I need no
sheep-skins. I go along and don't worry about anything. That's the
sort of man I am! What do I care? I can live without sheep-skins. I
don't need them. My wife will fret, to be sure. And, true enough,
it is a shame; one works all day long, and then does not get paid.
Stop a bit! If you don't bring that money along, sure enough I'll
skin you, blessed if I don't. How's that? He pays twenty kopeks at
a time! What can I do with twenty kopeks? Drink it-that's all one
can do! Hard up, he says he is! So he may be—but what about me? You
have a house, and cattle, and everything; I've only what I stand up
in! You have corn of your own growing; I have to buy every grain.
Do what I will, I must spend three roubles every week for bread
alone. I come home and find the bread all used up, and I have to
fork out another rouble and a half. So just pay up what you owe,
and no nonsense about it!"By this time he had nearly reached the shrine at the bend of
the road. Looking up, he saw something whitish behind the shrine.
The daylight was fading, and the shoemaker peered at the thing
without being able to make out what it was. "There was no white
stone here before. Can it be an ox? It's not like an ox. It has a
head like a man, but it's too white; and what could a man be doing
there?"He came closer, so that it was clearly visible. To his
surprise it really was a man, alive or dead, sitting naked, leaning
motionless against the shrine. Terror seized the shoemaker, and he
thought, "Some one has killed him, stripped him, and left him
there. If I meddle I shall surely get into trouble."So the shoemaker went on. He passed in front of the shrine so
that he could not see the man. When he had gone some way, he looked
back, and saw that the man was no longer leaning against the
shrine, but was moving as if looking towards him. The shoemaker
felt more frightened than before, and thought, "Shall I go back to
him, or shall I go on? If I go near him something dreadful may
happen. Who knows who the fellow is? He has not come here for any
good. If I go near him he may jump up and throttle me, and there
will be no getting away. Or if not, he'd still be a burden on one's
hands. What could I do with a naked man? I couldn't give him my
last clothes. Heaven only help me to get away!"So the shoemaker hurried on, leaving the shrine behind
him-when suddenly his conscience smote him, and he stopped in the
road."What are you doing, Simon?" said he to himself. "The man may
be dying of want, and you slip past afraid. Have you grown so rich
as to be afraid of robbers? Ah, Simon, shame on you!"So he turned back and went up to the man.IISimon approached the stranger, looked at him, and saw that he
was a young man, fit, with no bruises on his body, only evidently
freezing and frightened, and he sat there leaning back without
looking up at Simon, as if too faint to lift his eyes. Simon went
close to him, and then the man seemed to wake up. Turning his head,
he opened his eyes and looked into Simon's face. That one look was
enough to make Simon fond of the man. He threw the felt boots on
the ground, undid his sash, laid it on the boots, and took off his
cloth coat."It's not a time for talking," said he. "Come, put this coat
on at once!" And Simon took the man by the elbows and helped him to
rise. As he stood there, Simon saw that his body was clean and in
good condition, his hands and feet shapely, and his face good and
kind. He threw his coat over the man's shoulders, but the latter
could not find the sleeves. Simon guided his arms into them, and
drawing the coat well on, wrapped it closely about him, tying the
sash round the man's waist.Simon even took off his torn cap to put it on the man's head,
but then his own head felt cold, and he thought: "I'm quite bald,
while he has long curly hair." So he put his cap on his own head
again. "It will be better to give him something for his feet,"
thought he; and he made the man sit down, and helped him to put on
the felt boots, saying, "There, friend, now move about and warm
yourself. Other matters can be settled later on. Can you
walk?"The man stood up and looked kindly at Simon, but could not
say a word."Why don't you speak?" said Simon. "It's too cold to stay
here, we must be getting home. There now, take my stick, and if
you're feeling weak, lean on that. Now step out!"The man started walking, and moved easily, not lagging
behind.As they went along, Simon asked him, "And where do you belong
to?" "I'm not from these parts.""I thought as much. I know the folks hereabouts. But, how did
you come to be there by the shrine?""I cannot tell.""Has some one been ill-treating you?""No one has ill-treated me. God has punished
me.""Of course God rules all. Still, you'll have to find food and
shelter somewhere. Where do you want to go to?""It is all the same to me."Simon was amazed. The man did not look like a rogue, and he
spoke gently, but yet he gave no account of himself. Still Simon
thought, "Who knows what may have happened?" And he said to the
stranger: "Well then, come home with me, and at least warm yourself
awhile."So Simon walked towards his home, and the stranger kept up
with him, walking at his side. The wind had risen and Simon felt it
cold under his shirt. He was getting over his tipsiness by now, and
began to feel the frost. He went along sniffling and wrapping his
wife's coat round him, and he thought to himself: "There now—talk
about sheep-skins! I went out for sheep-skins and come home without
even a coat to my back, and what is more, I'm bringing a naked man
along with me. Matryona won't be pleased!" And when he thought of
his wife he felt sad; but when he looked at the stranger and
remembered how he had looked up at him at the shrine, his heart was
glad.IIISimon's wife had everything ready early that day. She had cut
wood, brought water, fed the children, eaten her own meal, and now
she sat thinking. She wondered when she ought to make bread: now or
tomorrow? There was still a large piece left."If Simon has had some dinner in town," thought she, "and
does not eat much for supper, the bread will last out another
day."She weighed the piece of bread in her hand again and again,
and thought: "I won't make any more today. We have only enough
flour left to bake one batch; We can manage to make this last out
till Friday."So Matryona put away the bread, and sat down at the table to
patch her husband's shirt. While she worked she thought how her
husband was buying skins for a winter coat."If only the dealer does not cheat him. My good man is much
too simple; he cheats nobody, but any child can take him in. Eight
roubles is a lot of money—he should get a good coat at that price.
Not tanned skins, but still a proper winter coat. How difficult it
was last winter to get on without a warm coat. I could neither get
down to the river, nor go out anywhere. When he went out he put on
all we had, and there was nothing left for me. He did not start
very early today, but still it's time he was back. I only hope he
has not gone on the spree!"Hardly had Matryona thought this, when steps were heard on
the threshold, and some one entered. Matryona stuck her needle into
her work and went out into the passage. There she saw two men:
Simon, and with him a man without a hat, and wearing felt
boots.