Diary of a Madman and Other Stories Read Online Free

expect the uneducated fellow cannot do, he would be a whole head taller than my Sophie’s Papa, who is himself quite tall, and rather stout. The idiot must be dreadfully rude. I growled at him, and he paid no attention: did not so much as wince. With his tongue out and his huge ears dangling, he remained standing before my window,—such a boor! But do you really suppose, ma chère, that my heart is insensitive to all overtures? Ah, no! If only you could see one young man climbing over our fence, Trésor by name . . . Ah, ma chère, what a sweet little snout he has!”
    I say! what damned nonsense! How do they contrive to fill their letters with such rubbish? Give me a human being! I want to see a human being, I demand spiritual sustenance, in which my soul might find food and delight; and instead, I get this rubbish . . . Let us turn another page, on the chance of finding something better:
    â€œSophie was sitting at the table, sewing something. I was looking out of the window because I like watching the passers-by, when all of a sudden a footman came in and announced: ‘Teplov.’ ‘Ask him in,’ cried Sophie and embraced me. ‘Madgie! Madgie! if only you knew who that is: a dark young man, a Gentleman of the Chamber, and such eyes! Black as jet!’ And Sophie ran off to her room. A minute later a young Gentleman of the Chamber with black whiskers came in, walked up to the looking-glass, smoothed his hair, and looked about the room. I growled a little and returned to my place. Sophie soon came back and returned a gay curtsy to his bow. I went on innocently looking out of the window, pretending to notice nothing. But I took care to hold my head a little to one side, so as to hear what they were saying. Ah, ma chère! the rubbish they talked! First it was about a lady who executed the wrong figure at a dance; then about someone of the name of Bobov, who looked exactly like a stork when he wore his ruffles, and who just missed tumbling down; and of a person called Lidina, who imagined that her eyes were blue, when they were really green, and so on. “If only,” I thought to myself, “one were to compare your Gentleman of the Chamber to my Trésor!” Heavens! what a difference! To begin with, the Gentleman of the Chamber’s face is broad and perfectly flat, with whiskers all round, exactly as if he had tied it up in a black scarf; while Trésor has a nice little pointed snout, and a white spot in the middle of his forehead. Trésor’s waist is simply not to be compared to Teplov’s. And his eyes, his manners, all his ways are quite, quite different. Oh, what a difference! I cannot understand, ma chère, what it is she has found in her Teplov, and why she is so enthusiastic about him.”
    I quite agree that there seems to be something wrong about it. It is impossible that Teplov should have captivated her to that extent. Let us see what next:
    â€œIf she is fascinated in this way by her Gentleman of the Chamber I do not see why she should not be fascinated next by the clerk who sits in Papa’s study. Oh, ma chère! if only you knew what an ugly creature that is. Exactly like a tortoise in a bag.”
    What clerk can that be?
    â€œHe has a very queer name. He always sits mending pens. The hair on his head looks very much like hay. Papa sometimes sends him on errands instead of a servant.”
    It looks as if the nasty dog were alluding to me. Whoever said that my hair was like hay?
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    â€œSophie cannot help laughing whenever she sees him.”
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    You lie, you damned cur! What a dirty tongue! As if I did not know that this was all the work of envy! As if I did not know whose tricks these were! They are the tricks of the Chief of Section. The man has vowed me implacable hatred, and he loses no opportunity to injure me and to thwart my every step. Let us, however, try one more letter. Perhaps everything will be explained in