for the lad."

"Well, that is a person I am not sorry for," said Von Koren. "If
that charming individual were drowning, I would push him under with
a stick and say, 'Drown, brother, drown away.' . . ."

"That's untrue. You wouldn't do it."

"Why do you think that?" The zoologist shrugged his shoulders. "I'm
just as capable of a good action as you are."

"Is drowning a man a good action?" asked the deacon, and he laughed.

"Laevsky? Yes."

"I think there is something amiss with the soup . . ." said Samoylenko,
anxious to change the conversation.

"Laevsky is absolutely pernicious and is as dangerous to society
as the cholera microbe," Von Koren went on. "To drown him would be
a service."

"It does not do you credit to talk like that about your neighbour.
Tell us: what do you hate him for?"

"Don't talk nonsense, doctor. To hate and despise a microbe is
stupid, but to look upon everybody one meets without distinction
as one's neighbour, whatever happens--thanks very much, that is
equivalent to giving up criticism, renouncing a straightforward
attitude to people, washing one's hands of responsibility, in fact!
I consider your Laevsky a blackguard; I do not conceal it, and I
am perfectly conscientious in treating him as such. Well, you look
upon him as your neighbour--and you may kiss him if you like: you
look upon him as your neighbour, and that means that your attitude
to him is the same as to me and to the deacon; that is no attitude
at all. You are equally indifferent to all."

"To call a man a blackguard!" muttered Samoylenko, frowning with
distaste--"that is so wrong that I can't find words for it!"

"People are judged by their actions," Von Koren continued. "Now you
decide, deacon. . . . I am going to talk to you, deacon. Mr. Laevsky's
career lies open before you, like a long Chinese puzzle, and you
can read it from beginning to end. What has he been doing these two
years that he has been living here? We will reckon his doings on
our fingers. First, he has taught the inhabitants of the town to
play _vint_: two years ago that game was unknown here; now they all
play it from morning till late at night, even the women and the
boys. Secondly, he has taught the residents to drink beer, which
was not known here either; the inhabitants are indebted to him for
the knowledge of various sorts of spirits, so that now they can
distinguish Kospelov's vodka from Smirnov's No. 21, blindfold.
Thirdly, in former days,