The Brothers Karamazov

“My theory, Karamazov, is clear and simple,” he at once hurried joyfully on again, “I believe in the people and am always glad to do them justice, but I’m by no means for spoiling them, that is a sine qua ... Yes, about the goose. So I turned to the fool and answered him: I’m thinking about what the goose might be thinking about. ‘ He gave me a completely stupid look: And what,’ he said, ‘is the goose thinking about?’ ‘Do you see that cart full of oats?’ I said. ‘The oats are spilling from the sack, and the goose has stretched his neck out right under the wheel and is pecking up the grains—do you see?’ ‘I see all right,’ he said. ‘Well,’ I said, if the cart rolled forward a bit now —would it break the goose’s neck or not?’ ‘Sure it would,’ he said, and he was already grinning from ear to ear, he was melting all over. ‘So let’s do it, man, come on.’ ‘Yeah, let’s do it,’ he said. And it was easy enough to set up: he stood near the bridle on the sly, and I stood beside the cart to direct the goose. And the peasant got distracted just then, he was talking with someone, so that I didn’t even have to direct: the goose stretched his neck out to get the oats, under the cart, right under the wheel. I winked at the fellow, he gave a tug, and—cr-r-ack, the wheel rolled right across the middle of the goose’s neck. But it just so happened that at that very second all the peasants saw us, and they all started squawking at once: ‘You did it on purpose!”No, I didn’t. ‘ ‘Yes, you did! ‘ Then they squawked: ‘To the justice of the peace with him!’ They took me along, too: ‘You were there, you helped him, the whole marketplace knows you!’ And indeed, for some reason the whole marketplace does know me,” Kolya added vainly. “We all went to the justice of the peace, and they brought the goose along, too. I could see that my fellow was afraid; he started howling, really, howling like a woman. And the poultryman was shouting: ‘You could run over all the geese in the market that way! ‘ Well, of course there were witnesses. The justice wrapped it up in no time: the poultryman got a rouble for the goose, and the fellow got the goose. And he was never to allow himself such jokes in the future. And the fellow kept howling like a woman: It wasn’t me, he made me do it,’ and he pointed at me. I answered with complete equanimity that I had by no means made him do it, that I had merely stated the basic idea and was speaking only hypothetically. Judge Nefedov chuckled, and was immediately angry with himself for having chuckled: ‘I shall send a report to your authorities at once,’ he said to me, ‘so that in future you will not fall into such hypotheses instead of sitting over your books and learning your lessons.’ He didn’t report to the authorities, it was a joke, but the thing got around and reached the ears of the authorities anyway, we have long ears here! The classics teacher, Kolbasnikov, was particularly incensed, but Dardanelov stood up for me again. And Kolbasnikov is mad at everybody now, like a green ass. You must have heard he got married, Ilyusha, picked up a thousand roubles in dowry from the Mikhailovs, and the bride is a real eyesore, first-rate and to the last degree. The boys in the third class immediately wrote an epigram:

The class was astonished to discover The slob Kolbasnikov is a lover.

And so on, very funny, I’ll bring it to you later. I will say nothing about Dardanelov: he’s a man of learning, decidedly a man of learning. I respect his kind, and not at all because he stood up for me . . .” “But you still showed him up over who founded Troy!” Smurov suddenly interjected, being decidedly proud of Krasotkin at the moment. He liked the story about the goose very much.

“Did you really show him up?” the captain joined in fawningly. “Over who founded Troy, sir? We heard about that, that you showed him up. Ilyushechka told me right then, sir...”

“He knows everything, papa, better than any of us!” Ilyushechka also joined in. “He only pretends to be like that, but he’s the first student in every subject ...”

Ilyusha looked at Kolya with boundless happiness.

“Well, it’s all nonsense about Troy, trifles. I myself consider it an idle question,” Kolya responded with prideful modesty. He was now perfectly on pitch, though he was still somewhat worried: he felt that he was overly excited, and that he had told about the goose, for example, too openheartedly, while Alyosha had kept silent all through the story and looked serious, so that it gradually began to rankle the vain boy: “Is he silent because he despises me, thinking that I’m seeking his praise? If so, if he dares to think so, then I...”

“I consider it decidedly an idle question,” he proudly broke off once again.