es, and there will be nothing by
which to distinguish us from other people. It has become a custom to
make Gymnasium students of all children. The merchants, the nobles, the
commoners--all are adjusted to match the same colour. They dress them
in gray and teach them all the same subjects. They grow man even as they
grow a tree. Why do they do it? No one knows. Even a log could be told
from another by its knot at least, while here they want to plane the
people over so that all of them should look alike. The coffin is already
waiting for us old people. Ye-es! It may be that about fifty years
hence, no one will believe that I lived in this world. I, Anany, the son
of Savva, by the surname of Shchurov. So! And that I, Anany, feared no
one, save God. And that in my youth I was a peasant, that all the land I
possessed then was two desyatins and a quarter; while toward my old age
I have hoarded up eleven thousand desyatins, all forests, and perhaps
two millions in cash."

"There, they always speak of money!" said Foma, with dissatisfaction.
"What joy does man derive from money?" "Mm," bellowed Shchurov. "You will
make a poor merchant, if you do not understand the power of money."

"Who does understand it?" asked Foma.

"I!" said Shchurov, with confidence. "And every clever man. Yashka
understands it. Money? That is a great deal, my lad! Just spread it out
before you and think, 'What does it contain?' Then will you know that
all this is human strength, human mind. Thousands of people have put
their life into your money and thousands more will do it. And you can
throw it all into the fire and see how the money is burning, and at that
moment you will consider yourself master."

"But nobody does this."

"Because fools have no money. Money is invested in business. Business
gives bread to the masses. And you are master over all those masses.
Wherefore did God create man? That man should pray to Him. He was
alone and He felt lonesome, so He began to desire power, and as man was
created in the image of the Lord, man also desires power. And what, save
money, can give power? That's the way. Well, and you--have you brought
me money?"

"No," answered Foma. From the words of the old man Foma's head was heavy
and troubled, and he was glad that the conversation had, at last, turned
to business matters.

"That isn't right," said Shchurov, sternly knitting his brow. "It is
overdue--you must pay.

"You'll get a half of it tomorrow."