Small Fry
by
Translated by Constance Garnett
“HONORED Sir, Father and Benefactor!” a petty clerk called Nevyrazimov was writing a rough copy of an Easter congratulatory letter.”I trust that you may spend this Holy Day even as many more to come, in good health and prosperity. And to your family also I …”
The lamp, in which the kerosene was getting low, was smoking and smelling. A stray cockroach was running about the table in alarm near Nevyrazimov’s writing hand. Two rooms away from the office Paramon the porter was for the third time cleaning his best boots, and with such energy that the sound of the blacking-brush and of his expectorations was audible in all the rooms.
“What else can I write to him, the rascal?” Nevyrazimov wondered, raising his eyes to the smutty ceiling.