The Beggar

by Anton Chekhov

KIND sir, be so good as to notice a poor, hungry man. I have not tasted
food for three days. I have not a five-kopeck (ˈkəʊpɛk ) a monetary unit of Russia and Belarus
worth one hundredth of a rouble piece for a night’s lodging temporary accommodation. I swear by

God! For five years I was a village schoolmaster and lost my post through
the intrigues /ɪnˈtriːɡ/ to secretly plan with other people to harm somebody of the Zemstvo an institution of local
government set up during the great emancipation reform of 1861 carried out in Imperial Russia by Emperor Alexander II of

Russia. . I was the victim of false witness. I have been out of a place for a year
now.”
Skvortsov, a Petersburg lawyer, looked at the speaker’s tattered /ˈtætəd/ old and

dark blue overcoat a long warm coat worn in cold weather , at his muddy, drunken
torn; in bad condition

eyes, at the red patches a small area of something, especially one which is different from the area around it on his
cheeks, and it seemed to him that he had seen the man before.

“And now I am offered a post in the Kaluga province,” the beggar

continued, “but I have not the means for the journey there. Graciously in a way
that is kind and shows mercy help me! I am ashamed to ask, but . . . I am compelled to force

somebody to do something; to make something necessary by circumstances.”

Skvortsov looked at his goloshes rubber shoes (no longer very common) that are worn over normal shoes in wet
weather, of which one was shallow not having much distance between the top or surface and the bottom like a

shoe, while the other came high up the leg like a boot, and suddenly
remembered.

“Listen, the day before yesterday I met you in Sadovoy Street,” he said,
“and then you told me, not that you were a village schoolmaster, but that
you were a student who had been expelled to officially make somebody leave a school or an organization.
Do you remember?”

“N-o. No, that cannot be so!” the beggar muttered  to speak or say something in a quiet voice that
is difficult to hear, especially because you are annoyed about something in confusion. “I am a village

schoolmaster, and if you wish it I can show you documents to prove it.”

“That’s enough lies! You called yourself a student, and even told me what
you were expelled for. Do you remember?”
 Skvortsov flushed red; with a red face, and with a look of disgust on his face turned
away from the ragged wearing old or torn clothes figure.
“It’s contemptible /kənˈtemptəbl/ not deserving any respect at all, sir!” he cried angrily. “It’s a
swindle to cheat somebody in order to get something, especially money, from them! I’ll hand you over to the
police, damn you! You are poor and hungry, but that does not give you the
right to lie so shamelessly!”

The ragged figure took hold of the door-handle and, like a bird in a snare
/sneə(r)/ a device used for catching small animals and birds, especially one that holds their leg so that they cannot escape , looked

round the hall desperately.

“I . . . I am not lying,” he muttered. “I can show documents.”

“Who can believe you?” Skvortsov went on, still indignant /ɪnˈdɪɡnənt/ feeling or

showing anger and surprise because you think that you have been treated unfairly .
“To exploit the sympathy of the
public for village schoolmasters and students — it’s so low, so mean, so
dirty! It’s revolting /rɪˈvəʊltɪŋ/ extremely unpleasant/disgusting!”

Skvortsov flew into a rage and gave the beggar a merciless scolding an act of
speaking angrily to somebody, especially a child, because they have done something wrong . The ragged fellow’s a way of

referring to a man or boy insolent /ˈɪnsələnt/ extremely rude and showing a lack of respect lying aroused his

disgust and aversion /əˈvɜːʃn/ a strong feeling of not liking somebody/something, was an offence
against what he, Skvortsov, loved and prized in himself: kindliness, a feeling
heart, sympathy for the unhappy. By his lying, by his treacherous /ˈtretʃərəs/ that
cannot be trusted; intending to harm you assault upon compassion a strong
the crime of attacking somebody physically

feeling of sympathy for people or animals who are suffering and a desire to help them , the individual had, as it were,

defiled to make something dirty or no longer pure, especially something that people consider important or holy the charity kind
behaviour and sympathy towards other people, especially when you are judging them which he liked to give to the

poor with no misgivings a feeling of doubt or apprehension about the outcome or consequences of something. in
his heart. The beggar at first defended himself, protested with oaths an offensive
word or phrase used to express anger, surprise, etc.; a swear word , then he sank into silence and hung his

head, overcome to affect somebody very strongly with shame.

“Sir!” he said, laying his hand on his heart, “I really was . . . lying! I am not
a student and not a village schoolmaster. All that’s mere invention! I used to
be in the Russian choir, and I was turned out of expelled it for drunkenness. But
what can I do? Believe me, in God’s name, I can’t get on to be successful in your career, etc.
without lying — when I tell the truth no one will give me anything. With the
truth one may die of hunger and freeze without a night’s lodging! What you
say is true, I understand that, but . . . what am I to do?”

“What are you to do? You ask what are you to do?” cried Skvortsov, going
close up to him. “Work — that’s what you must do! You must work!”

“Work. . . . I know that myself, but where can I get work?”

“Nonsense. You are young, strong, and healthy, and could always find work
if you wanted to. But you know you are lazy, pampered spoilt, drunken! You
reek to smell very strongly of something unpleasant of vodka like a pothouse a small tavern/a pub! You
have become false and corrupt to the marrow a soft substance that fills the hollow parts of bones of
your bones and fit suitable for for nothing but begging and lying! If you do
graciously condescend /ˌkɒndɪˈsend/ to do something that you think it is below your social or professional position to do
to take work, you must have a job in an office, in the Russian choir, or as a
billiard-marker, where you will have a salary and have nothing to do! But
how would you like to undertake to make yourself responsible for something and start doing it manual
labour physical work done by humans, in contrast to labour by machines and working animals ? I’ll be bound certain
or likely to happen, or to do or be something , you wouldn’t be a house porter or a factory hand!
You are too genteel /dʒenˈtiːl/ quiet and polite, often in an exaggerated way; from, or pretending to be from, a high social
class for that!”

“What things you say, really . . .” said the beggar, and he gave a bitter
smile. “How can I get manual work? It’s rather late for me to be a shopman,
for in trade one has to begin from a boy; no one would take me as a house
porter, because I am not of that class . . . . And I could not get work in a
factory; one must know a trade, and I know nothing.”

“Nonsense! You always find some justification a good reason why something exists or is done !

Wouldn’t you like to chop wood?”

“I would not refuse to, but the regular woodchoppers are out of work now.”
“Oh, all idlers /ˈaɪdlə(r)/ a person who is lazy and does not work argue like that! As soon as you are
offered anything you refuse it. Would you care to chop wood for me?”

“Certainly I will. . .”

“Very good, we shall see. . . . Excellent. We’ll see!” Skvortsov, in nervous
haste /heɪst/ speed in doing something, especially because you do not have enough time ; and not without
malignant /məˈlɪɡnənt/ having or showing a strong desire to harm somebody pleasure, rubbing his hands,
summoned to order somebody to come to you his cook from the kitchen.

“Here, Olga,” he said to her, “take this gentleman to the shed and let him
chop some wood.”
The beggar shrugged his shoulders as though puzzled, and irresolutely /ɪ
ˈrezəluːtli/ in a way that shows that you cannot decide what to do followed the cook. It was evident clear; easily

seen from his demeanour /dɪˈmiːnə(r)/ the way that somebody looks or behaves that he had consented

to go and chop wood, not because he was

to agree to something or give your permission for something

hungry and wanted to earn money, but simply from shame and amour
propre /əˌmʊə ˈprɒprə/  feeling of respect for your own character and abilities, because he had been taken
at his word. It was clear, too, that he was suffering from the effects of
vodka, that he was unwell, and felt not the faintest not enthusiastic inclination a feeling
that makes you want to do something to work.

Skvortsov hurried into the dining-room. There from the window which
looked out into the yard he could see the woodshed and everything that
happened in the yard. Standing at the window, Skvortsov saw the cook and
the beggar come by the back way into the yard and go through the muddy
snow to the woodshed. Olga scrutinized /ˈskruːtənaɪz/ to look at or examine somebody/something
her companion angrily, and jerking to move or to make something move with a sudden short sharp
carefully

movement her elbow unlocked the woodshed and angrily banged the door open.

“Most likely we interrupted the woman drinking her coffee,” thought

Skvortsov. “What a cross creature she is!”

Then he saw the pseudo not what somebody claims it is; false or pretended -schoolmaster and
pseudo-student seat himself on a block of wood, and, leaning his red cheeks
upon his fists, sink into thought. The cook flung to throw or push somebody/something with force,
especially because you are angry, or in a careless way an axe at his feet, spat angrily on the ground,

and, judging by the expression of her lips, began abusing to treat a person or an animal in a
cruel or violent way, especially sexually him. The beggar drew a log of wood towards him

irresolutely, set it up between his feet, and diffidently without much confidence; in a way that
shows you do not want to talk about yourself drew the axe across it. The log toppled to become unsteady and

fall down and fell over. The beggar drew it towards him, breathed on his frozen

hands, and again drew the axe along it as cautiously as though he were
afraid of its hitting his golosh or chopping off his fingers. The log fell over
again.
 Skvortsov’s wrath /rɒθ/ extreme anger had passed off to take place and be completed in a particular way by
now, he felt sore and ashamed at the thought that he had forced a
pampered, drunken, and perhaps sick man to do hard, rough work in the
cold.

“Never mind, let him go on . . .” he thought, going from the dining-room

into his study. “I am doing it for his good!”

An hour later Olga appeared and announced that the wood had been
chopped up.

“Here, give him half a rouble,” said Skvortsov. “If he likes, let him come
and chop wood on the first of every month. . . . There will always be work
for him.”

On the first of the month the beggar turned up and again earned half a
rouble, though he could hardly stand. From that time forward he took to
turning up frequently, and work was always found for him: sometimes he
would sweep the snow into heaps an untidy pile of something, or clear up the shed, at
another he used to beat the rugs and the mattresses repeatedly strike a carpet in order
to clean it. He always received thirty to forty kopecks for his work, and on one

occasion an old pair of trousers was sent out to him.

When he moved, Skvortsov engaged him to assist in packing and moving

the furniture. On this occasion the beggar was sober not drunk/ serious and sensible,
gloomy sad and without hope, and silent; he scarcely only just; almost not touched the furniture,
walked with hanging head behind the furniture vans, and did not even try to
appear busy; he merely shivered with the cold, and was overcome  to affect
somebody very strongly with confusion when the men with the vans laughed at his

idleness /ˈaɪdlnəs/ the fact of tending to be lazy and not work hard , feebleness the fact of not being effective; lack of effort
or energy, and ragged coat that had once been a gentleman’s. After the removal
an act of taking furniture, etc. from one house to another Skvortsov sent for him.

“Well, I see my words have had an effect upon you,” he said, giving him a
rouble. “This is for your work. I see that you are sober and not disinclined not
willing to work. What is your name?”

“Lushkov.”

“I can offer you better work, not so rough, Lushkov. Can you write?”

“Yes, sir.”
 “Then go with this note tomorrow to my colleague and he will give you
some copying to do. Work, don’t drink, and don’t forget what I said to you.
Good-bye.”

Skvortsov, pleased that he had put a man in the path of rectitude the quality of
thinking or behaving in a correct and honest way , patted Lushkov genially in a friendly and cheerful way on the

shoulder, and even shook hands with him at parting.

Lushkov took the letter, departed, and from that time forward did not come
to the back-yard for work.

Two years passed. One day as Skvortsov was standing at the ticket-office
of a theatre, paying for his ticket, he saw beside him a little man with a
lambskin collar and a shabby badly dressed in clothes that have been worn a lot cat’s-skin cap. The
man timidly in a shy and nervous way asked the clerk for a gallery ticket and paid for it
with kopecks.

“Lushkov, is it you?” asked Skvortsov, recognizing in the little man his

former woodchopper. “Well, what are you doing? Are you getting on all
right?”

“Pretty well. . . . I am in a notary’s office now. I earn thirty-five roubles.”

“Well, thank God, that’s capital. I rejoice for you. I am very, very glad,
Lushkov. You know, in a way, you are my godson. It was I who shoved to push
somebody/something in a rough way you into the right way. Do you remember what a

scolding I gave you, eh? You almost sank through the floor that time. Well,
thank you, my dear fellow, for remembering my words.”

“Thank you too,” said Lushkov. “If I had not come to you that day, maybe I
should be calling myself a schoolmaster or a student still. Yes, in your house
I was saved, and climbed out of the pit  a large deep hole in the ground.”

“I am very, very glad.”

“Thank you for your kind words and deeds a thing that somebody does that is usually very good or very
bad. What you said that day was excellent. I am grateful to you and to your

cook, God bless that kind, noble-hearted woman. What you said that day
was excellent; I am indebted to you as long as I live, of course, but it was
your cook, Olga, who really saved me.”

“How was that?”

 “Why, it was like this. I used to come to you to chop wood and she would
begin: ‘Ah, you drunkard! You God-forsaken boring, depressing and ugly man! And yet
death does not take you!’ and then she would sit opposite me, lamenting to
have or express very sad feelings about somebody/something , looking into my face and wailing a long loud high

sound made by somebody who is sad or in pain : ‘You unlucky fellow! You have no gladness in this

world, and in the next you will burn in hell, poor drunkard! You poor
sorrowful creature!’ and she always went on in that style, you know. How
often she upset herself, and how many tears she shed over me I can’t tell
you. But what affected me most — she chopped the wood for me! Do you
know, sir, I never chopped a single log for you — she did it all! How it was
she saved me, how it was I changed, looking at her, and gave up drinking, I
can’t explain. I only know that what she said and the noble way she behaved
brought about a change in my soul, and I shall never forget it. It’s time to
go up, though, they are just going to ring the bell.”

Lushkov bowed and went off to the gallery.

then research a critical source

Choose one of the stories from the readings and
within the UoPeople Library or through another source, such as
Google Scholar for further information about the story.  For example, this
information might come from reviews by others, biographies, or textbooks.  You will then write two or
three sentences on what you’ve found for research and how it does (or does not) concur with your
concept of the story.
You will include:

 One quote formatted using APA in-text citation style.

 One paraphrase formatted using APA in-text citation style.
 The full reference information formatted using APA Reference section style (if you need help
with the reference material, you can use BibMe at www.bibme.org but make sure you select
APA and not MLA).

Remember, except for the credited source information this is to be your own original work.

“Every Chekhov story has an atmosphere which somehow is inseparable from the characters and the
situation, and which renders these effective” (Werth, 1925, p.640).

References:
Werth, A. (1925). Anton Chekhov. The Slavonic Review, 3(9), 622-641. Retrieved September 24,
2020, from http://www.jstor.org/stable/4201893

In 1901, Chekhov married Olga Knipper— an actress and member of the original Moscow Art
Theatre— ending his lengthy bachelorhood (to some extent: Knipper spent much of her time on
the stage in Moscow).

Chekhov, A. (2017). Great stories by Chekhov. ProQuest Ebook

Central https://ebookcentral.proquest.com

“Olga Knipper is remembered first as Anton Chekhov’s wife, and second as an actress of the
Moscow Art Theater” (Ignatieva, 2008, p. 71)

Ignatieva, M. (2008). Stanislavsky and female actors: Women in Stanislavsky's life and art. University
Press of America.https://books.google.co.id/books?
id=UhgJA0SMY6sC&pg=PA71&dq=anton+chekhov%27s+wife+olga&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwj8x-
y5l4LsAhVJl4sKHZanBBgQuwUwBnoECAUQBw#v=onepage&q=anton%20chekhov's%20wife
%20olga&f=false

“However the reality is that Skvortsov’s words and deeds are no match for the actions of Olga
who is the real impetus for change in Lushkov’s life” (McManus, 2017).

McManus, D. (2017, January 26). The beggar by Anton Chekhov. The Sitting

Bee. https://sittingbee.com/the-beggar-anton-chekhov/

The Beggar, a short story by Anton Chekhov, tells us that action is more powerful than
scolding to change someone’s character and belief. A reviewer of the short story has stated
similarly, “However the reality is that Skvortsov’s words and deeds are no match for the
actions of Olga who is the real impetus for change in Lushkov’s life” (McManus, 2017, para.
4). In addition, Ignatieva (2008) revealed an interesting fact about Anton Chekhov that he
married a woman named Olga Knipper, having alike initial with Olga in The Beggar.

References

Ignatieva, M. (2008). Stanislavsky and female actors: Women in Stanislavsky's life and
art. University Press of America. https://books.google.co.id/books?
id=UhgJA0SMY6sC&pg=PA71&dq=anton+chekhov
%27s+wife+olga&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwj8x-
y5l4LsAhVJl4sKHZanBBgQuwUwBnoECAUQBw#v=onepage&q=anton
%20chekhov's%20wife%20olga&f=false

McManus, D. (2017, January 26). The beggar by Anton Chekhov. The Sitting Bee.
https://sittingbee.com/the-beggar-anton-chekhov/