Poor Folk

MY BELOVED MAKAR ALEXIEVITCH, -Do you know, must quarrel with you. Yes, goodMakar Alexievitch, I really cannot accept your presents, for I know what they must havecost you-I know to what privations and self-denial they must have led. How many timeshave I not told you that I stand in need of NOTHING, of absolutely NOTHING, as well as thatI shall never be in a position to recompense you for all the kindly acts with which you haveloaded me? Why, for instance, have you sent me geraniums? A little sprig of balsam wouldnot have mattered so much-but geraniums! Only have I to let fall an unguarded word-forexample, about geraniums-and at once you buy me some! How much they must have costyou! Yet what a charm there is in them, with their flaming petals! Wherever did you getthese beautiful plants? I have set them in my window as the most conspicuous placepossible, while on the floor I have placed a bench for my other flowers to stand on (sinceyou are good enough to enrich me with such presents). Unfortunately, Thedora, who, withher sweeping and polishing, makes a perfect sanctuary of my room, is not over-pleased atthe arrangement. But why have you sent me also bonbons? Your letter tells me thatsomething special is afoot with you, for I find in it so much about paradise and spring andsweet odours and the songs of birds. Surely, thought I to myself when I received it, this is asgood as poetry! Indeed, verses are the only thing that your letter lacks, Makar Alexievitch. And what tender feelings I can read in it-what roseate-coloured fancies! To the curtain, however, I had never given a thought. The fact is that when I moved the flower-pots, itLOOPED ITSELF up. There no