Best Russian Short Stories by - (chrysanthemum read aloud txt) đ
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âFinally, our profession is by no means as easy and pleasant as it seems to the first glance. It demands long experience, constant practice, slow and painful apprenticeship. It comprises in itself hundreds of supple, skilful processes that the cleverest juggler cannot compass. That I may not give you only empty words, gentlemen, I will perform a few experiments before you now. I ask you to have every confidence in the demonstrators. We are all at present in the enjoyment of legal freedom, and though we are usually watched, and every one of us is known by face, and our photographs adorn the albums of all detective departments, for the time being we are not under the necessity of hiding ourselves from anybody. If any one of you should recognise any of us in the future under different circumstances, we ask you earnestly always to act in accordance with your professional duties and your obligations as citizens. In grateful return for your kind attention we have decided to declare your property inviolable, and to invest it with a thievesâ taboo. However, I proceed to business.â
The orator turned round and gave an order: âSesoi the Great, will you come this way!â
An enormous fellow with a stoop, whose hands reached to his knees, without a forehead or a neck, like a big, fair Hercules, came forward. He grinned stupidly and rubbed his left eyebrow in his confusion.
âCanât do nothinâ here,â he said hoarsely.
The gentleman in the sandy suit spoke for him, turning to the committee.
âGentlemen, before you stands a respected member of our association. His specialty is breaking open safes, iron strong boxes, and other receptacles for monetary tokens. In his night work he sometimes avails himself of the electric current of the lighting installation for fusing metals. Unfortunately he has nothing on which he can demonstrate the best items of his repertoire. He will open the most elaborate lock irreproachably... By the way, this door here, itâs locked, is it not?â
Every one turned to look at the door, on which a printed notice hung: âStage Door. Strictly Private.â
âYes, the doorâs locked, evidently,â the chairman agreed.
âAdmirable. Sesoi the Great, will you be so kind?â
ââTainât nothinâ at all,â said the giant leisurely.
He went close to the door, shook it cautiously with his hand, took out of his pocket a small bright instrument, bent down to the keyhole, made some almost imperceptible movements with the tool, suddenly straightened and flung the door wide in silence. The chairman had his watch in his hands. The whole affair took only ten seconds.
âThank you, Sesoi the Great,â said the gentleman in the sandy suit politely. âYou may go back to your seat.â
But the chairman interrupted in some alarm: âExcuse me. This is all very interesting and instructive, but ... is it included in your esteemed colleagueâs profession to be able to lock the door again?â
âAh, mille pardons.â The gentleman bowed hurriedly. âIt slipped my mind. Sesoi the Great, would you oblige?â
The door was locked with the same adroitness and the same silence. The esteemed colleague waddled back to his friends, grinning.
âNow I will have the honour to show you the skill of one of our comrades who is in the line of picking pockets in theatres and railway-stations,â continued the orator. âHe is still very young, but you may to some extent judge from the delicacy of his present work of the heights he will attain by diligence. Yasha!â A swarthy youth in a blue silk blouse and long glacĂ© boots, like a gipsy, came forward with a swagger, fingering the tassels of his belt, and merrily screwing up his big, impudent black eyes with yellow whites.
âGentlemen,â said the gentleman in the sandy suit persuasively, âI must ask if one of you would be kind enough to submit himself to a little experiment. I assure you this will be an exhibition only, just a game.â
He looked round over the seated company.
The short plump Karaite, black as a beetle, came forward from his table.
âAt your service,â he said amusedly.
âYasha!â The orator signed with his head.
Yasha came close to the solicitor. On his left arm, which was bent, hung a bright-coloured, figured scarf.
âSuppose yer in church or at the bar in one of the halls,âor watchinâ a circus,â he began in a sugary, fluent voice. âI see straight offâthereâs a toff... Excuse me, sir. Suppose youâre the toff. Thereâs no offenceâjust means a rich gent, decent enough, but donât know his way about. Firstâwhatâs he likely to have about âim? All sorts. Mostly, a ticker and a chain. Whereabouts does he keep âem? Somewhere in his top vest pocketâhere. Others have âem in the bottom pocket. Just here. Purseâmost always in the trousers, except when a greeny keeps it in his jacket. Cigar-case. Have a look first what it isâgold, silverâwith a monogram. Leatherâwhat decent manâd soil his hands? Cigar-case. Seven pockets: here, here, here, up there, there, here and here again. Thatâs right, ainât it? Thatâs how you go to work.â
As he spoke the young man smiled. His eyes shone straight into the barristerâs. With a quick, dexterous movement of his right hand he pointed to various portions of his clothes.
âThen again you might see a pin here in the tie. However we do not appropriate. Such gents nowadaysâthey hardly ever wear a real stone. Then I comes up to him. I begin straight off to talk to him like a gent: âSir, would you be so kind as to give me a light from your cigaretteââor something of the sort. At any rate, I enter into conversation. Whatâs next? I look him straight in the peepers, just like this. Only two of me fingers are at itâjust this and this.â Yasha lifted two fingers of his right hand on a level with the solicitorâs face, the forefinger and the middle finger and moved them about.
âDâ you see? With these two fingers I run over the whole pianner. Nothinâ wonderful in it: one, two, threeâready. Any man who wasnât stupid could learn easily. Thatâs all it is. Most ordinary business. I thank you.â
The pickpocket swung on his heel as if to return to his seat.
âYasha!â The gentleman in the sandy suit said with meaning weight. âYasha!â he repeated sternly.
Yasha stopped. His back was turned to the barrister, but be evidently gave his representative an imploring look, because the latter frowned and shook his head.
âYasha!â he said for the third time, in a threatening tone.
âHuh!â The young thief grunted in vexation and turned to face the solicitor. âWhereâs your little watch, sir?â he said in a piping voice.
âOh!â the Karaite brought himself up sharp.
âYou seeânow you say âOh!ââ Yasha continued reproachfully. âAll the while you were admiring me right hand, I was operatinâ yer watch with my left. Just with these two little fingers, under the scarf. Thatâs why we carry a scarf. Since your chainâs not worth anythingâa present from some mamselle and the watch is a gold one, Iâve left you the chain as a keepsake. Take it,â he added with a sigh, holding out the watch.
âBut ... That is clever,â the barrister said in confusion. âI didnât notice it at all.â
âThatâs our business,â Yasha said with pride.
He swaggered back to his comrades. Meantime the orator took a drink from his glass and continued.
âNow, gentlemen, our next collaborator will give you an exhibition of some ordinary card tricks, which are worked at fairs, on steamboats and railways. With three cards, for instance, an ace, a queen, and a six, he can quite easily... But perhaps you are tired of these demonstrations, gentlemen.â...
âNot at all. Itâs extremely interesting,â the chairman answered affably. âI should like to ask one questionâthat is if it is not too indiscreetâwhat is your own specialty?â
âMine... Hâm... No, how could it be an indiscretion?... I work the big diamond shops ... and my other business is banks,â answered the orator with a modest smile. âDonât think this occupation is easier than others. Enough that I know four European languages, German, French, English, and Italian, not to mention Polish, Ukrainian and Yiddish. But shall I show you some more experiments, Mr. Chairman?â
The chairman looked at his watch.
âUnfortunately the time is too short,â he said. âWouldnât it be better to pass on to the substance of your business? Besides, the experiments we have just seen have amply convinced us of the talent of your esteemed associates... Am I not right, Isaac Abramovich?â
âYes, yes ... absolutely,â the Karaite barrister readily confirmed.
âAdmirable,â the gentleman in the sandy suit kindly agreed. âMy dear Countââhe turned to a blond, curly-haired man, with a face like a billiard-maker on a bank-holidayââput your instruments away. They will not be wanted. I have only a few words more to say, gentlemen. Now that you have convinced yourselves that our art, although it does not enjoy the patronage of high-placed individuals, is nevertheless an art; and you have probably come to my opinion that this art is one which demands many personal qualities besides constant labour, danger, and unpleasant misunderstandingsâyou will also, I hope, believe that it is possible to become attached to its practice and to love and esteem it, however strange that may appear at first sight. Picture to yourselves that a famous poet of talent, whose tales and poems adorn the pages of our best magazines, is suddenly offered the chance of writing verses at a penny a line, signed into the bargain, as an advertisement for âCigarettes Jasmineââor that a slander was spread about one of you distinguished barristers, accusing you of making a business of concocting evidence for divorce cases, or of writing petitions from the cabmen to the governor in public-houses! Certainly your relatives, friends and acquaintances wouldnât believe it. But the rumour has already done its poisonous work, and you have to live through minutes of torture. Now picture to yourselves that such a disgraceful and vexatious slander, started by God knows whom, begins to threaten not only your good name and your quiet digestion, but your freedom, your health, and even your life!
âThis is the position of us thieves, now being slandered by the newspapers. I must explain. There is in existence a class of scumâpassez-moi le motâwhom we call their âMothersâ Darlings.â With these we are unfortunately confused. They have neither shame nor conscience, a dissipated riff-raff, mothersâ useless darlings, idle, clumsy drones, shop assistants who commit unskilful thefts. He thinks nothing of living on his mistress, a prostitute, like the male mackerel, who always swims after the female and lives on her excrements. He is capable of robbing a child with violence in a dark alley, in order to get a penny; he will kill a man in his sleep and torture an old woman. These men are the pests of our profession. For them the beauties and the traditions of the art have no existence. They watch us real, talented thieves like a pack of jackals after a lion. Suppose Iâve managed to bring off an important jobâwe wonât mention the fact that I have to leave two-thirds of what I get to the receivers who sell the goods and discount the notes, or the customary subsidies to our incorruptible policeâI still have to share out something to each one of these parasites, who have got wind of my job, by accident, hearsay, or a casual glance.
âSo we call them Motients, which means âhalf,â a corruption of moitiĂ© ... Original etymology. I pay him only because he knows and may inform against me. And it mostly happens that even when heâs got his share he runs off to the police in order to get another
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