Short Fiction - Nikolai Gogol (best selling autobiographies TXT) 📗

year grew more and more difficult for him. So the villagers were obliged to repair to his own lodgings whenever they wanted to consult him. The blacksmith opened the door, not without some fear. He saw Patzuck sitting on the floor after the Turkish fashion. Before him was a tub on which stood a tureen full of lumps of dough cooked in grease. The tureen was put, as if intentionally, on a level with his mouth. Without moving a single finger, he bent his head a little towards the tureen, and sipped the gravy, catching the lumps of dough with his teeth. “Well,” thought Vakoola to himself, “this fellow is still lazier than Choop; Choop at least eats with a spoon, but this one does not even raise his hand!” Patzuck seemed to be busily engaged with his meal, for he took not the slightest notice of the entrance of the blacksmith, who, as soon as he crossed the threshold, made a low bow.

“I am come to thy worship, Patzuck!” said Vakoola, bowing once more. The fat Patzuck lifted his head and went on eating the lumps of dough.

“They say that thou art⁠—I beg thy pardon,” said the blacksmith, endeavouring to compose himself, “I do not say it to offend thee⁠—that thou hast the devil among thy friends;” and in saying these words Vakoola was already afraid he had spoken too much to the point, and had not sufficiently softened the hard words he had used, and that Patzuck would throw at his head both the tub and the tureen; he even stepped a little on one side and covered his face with his sleeve, to prevent it from being sprinkled by the gravy.

But Patzuck looked up and continued sipping.

The encouraged blacksmith resolved to proceed⁠—“I am come to thee, Patzuck; God grant thee plenty of everything, and bread in good proportion!” The blacksmith knew how to put in a fashionable word sometimes; it was a talent he had acquired during his stay at Poltava, when he painted the centurion’s palisade. “I am on the point of endangering the salvation of my sinful soul! nothing in this world can serve me! Come what will, I am resolved to seek the help of the devil. Well, Patzuck,” said he, seeing that the other remained silent, “what am I to do?”

“If thou wantest the devil, go to the devil!” answered Patzuck, not giving him a single look, and going on with his meal.

“I am come to thee for this very reason,” returned the blacksmith with a bow; “besides thyself, methinks there is hardly anybody in the world who knows how to go to the devil.”

Patzuck, without saying a word, ate up all that remained on the dish. “Please, good man, do not refuse me!” urged the blacksmith. “And if there be any want of pork, or sausages, or buckwheat, or even linen or millet, or anything else⁠—why, we know how honest folk manage these things. I shall not be stingy. Only do tell me, if it be only by a hint, how to find the way to the devil.”

“He who has got the devil on his back has no great way to go to him,” said Patzuck quietly, without changing his position.

Vakoola fixed his eyes upon him as if searching for the meaning of these words on his face. “What does he mean?” thought he, and opened his mouth as if to swallow his first word. But Patzuck kept silence. Here Vakoola noticed that there was no longer either tub or tureen before him, but instead of them there stood upon the floor two wooden pots, the one full of curd dumplings, the other full of sour cream. Involuntarily his thoughts and his eyes became riveted to these pots. “Well, now,” thought he, “how will Patzuck eat the dumplings? He will not bend down to catch them like the bits of dough, and moreover, it is impossible; for they ought to be first dipped into the cream.” This thought had hardly crossed the mind of Vakoola, when Patzuck opened his mouth, looked at the dumplings, and then opened it still wider. Immediately, a dumpling jumped out of the pot, dipped itself into the cream, turned over on the other side, and went right into Patzuck’s mouth. Patzuck ate it, once more opened his mouth, and in went another dumpling in the same way. All Patzuck had to do was to chew and to swallow them. “That is wondrous indeed,” thought the blacksmith, and astonishment made him also open his mouth; but he felt directly, that a dumpling jumped into it also, and that his lips were already smeared with cream; he pushed it away, and after having wiped his lips, began to think about the marvels that happen in the world and the wonders one may work with the help of the devil; at the same time he felt more than ever convinced that Patzuck alone could help him. “I will beg of him still more earnestly to explain to me⁠—but, what do I see? today is a fast, and he is eating dumplings, and dumplings are not food for fast days!22 What a fool I am! staying here and giving way to temptation! Away, away!” and the pious blacksmith ran with all speed out of the cottage. The devil, who remained all the while sitting in the sack, and already rejoiced at the glorious victim he had entrapped, could not endure to see him get free from his clutches. As soon as the blacksmith left the sack a little loose, he sprang out of it and sat upon the blacksmith’s neck.

Vakoola felt a cold shudder run through all his frame; his courage gave way, his face grew pale, he knew not what to do; he was already on the point of making the sign of the cross; but the devil bending his dog’s muzzle to his right ear, whispered: “Here I am, I, thy friend; I will do everything