[adapted]

by
Leo Tolstoy

Alyosha was the younger brother. People called him the Pot because once, his mother sent him to take a pot of milk to the deacon’s wife, but he tripped and broke it. His mother hit him, and the other children made fun of him. Since then, everyone called him the Pot.

Alyosha was small and thin, with big ears that stuck out like wings and a large nose. The children used to tease him, shouting, “Alyosha has a nose like a dog on a hill!”

Alyosha went to the village school, but he was not good at studying. Besides, he had very little time to learn. His older brother had gone to town to work for a merchant, so Alyosha had to help his father from a young age.

When he was only six years old, he went with the girls to watch the cows and sheep in the fields. A little later, he started taking care of the horses, both day and night. By the time he was twelve, he was already plowing the fields and driving the cart. He knew how to do the work, but he was not very strong.

Alyosha was always cheerful. When the children made fun of him, he either laughed or stayed quiet. When his father scolded him, he stood still and listened carefully. And as soon as his father finished, Alyosha smiled and went back to work.

When Alyosha was nineteen, his brother was sent to be a soldier. So his father sent him to work for a merchant as a yard worker. He was given his brother’s old boots, his father’s old coat, and a cap, and he was taken to town.

Alyosha was happy with his new clothes, but the merchant was not pleased when he saw him.

“I thought you would bring me a grown man to replace Simeon,” the merchant said, looking at Alyosha. “And you bring me this? What use is he?”

“He can do everything—take care of the horses and drive. He is a hard worker. He looks thin, but he is strong enough. And he is very willing to work.”

“He looks like it. Alright, let’s see what he can do.”

So, Alyosha stayed with the merchant.

The family was not large. It included the merchant’s wife, her elderly mother, a married son who worked in his father’s business but was not well-educated, another son who had finished school and entered the university but had been expelled and now lived at home, and a daughter who was still in school.

At first, the family did not like Alyosha. He was rough, poorly dressed, and had no manners. But soon, they got used to him.

Alyosha worked even harder than his brother had. He was always willing to do whatever was needed. They sent him on all kinds of errands, and he did everything quickly and happily, moving from one task to another without stopping. Just like at home, all the work was put on his shoulders. The more he did, the more they asked him to do.

His mistress, her old mother, the son, the daughter, the clerk, and the cook—all of them gave him orders and sent him running from one place to another.

“Alyosha, do this! Alyosha, do that! Have you forgotten, Alyosha? Don’t forget, Alyosha!” From morning to night, they called his name. And Alyosha ran back and forth, took care of everything, never forgot anything, and always stayed cheerful.

His brother’s old boots soon wore out, and his master scolded him for walking around with holes in his shoes and his toes sticking out. His master ordered a new pair to be bought for him at the market. Alyosha was happy with his new boots, but at the end of the day, his feet hurt from all the running around. He was also worried that his father would be upset when he came to collect his wages and saw that the master had taken money from them to pay for the boots.

In winter, Alyosha got up before sunrise. He chopped wood, swept the yard, fed the cows and horses, lit the stoves, cleaned the boots, prepared the samovars, and polished them afterward. Sometimes the clerk asked him to bring up goods, or the cook made him knead the bread and clean the pots. Then, he was sent into town on errands—sometimes to bring the daughter home from school, sometimes to buy olive oil for the old mother. “Why have you taken so long?” one person would ask, then another. Why should they go themselves when Alyosha could go? “Alyosha! Alyosha!” And Alyosha kept running here and there. He ate breakfast quickly while working and rarely got to eat lunch at the right time. The cook often scolded him for being late, but she felt sorry for him and always kept something warm for his lunch and dinner.

During holidays, there was even more work than usual, but Alyosha liked holidays because everyone gave him a small tip. It wasn’t much, but altogether, it added up to about sixty kopeks—his very own money. Alyosha never saw his wages. His father always came to collect them from the merchant and only scolded Alyosha for wearing out his boots too quickly.

When Alyosha had saved up two roubles, he followed the cook’s advice and bought himself a red knitted jacket. He was so happy when he put it on that he couldn’t stop smiling. Alyosha was not very talkative. When he did speak, he spoke briefly and often turned his head away. When someone told him to do something or asked if he could do it, he always answered “yes” without hesitation and started working right away.

Alyosha did not know any prayers and had forgotten what his mother had taught him. But he still prayed every morning and evening, using his hands to cross himself.

He lived like this for about a year and a half. Towards the end of the second year, something completely unexpected happened to him. One day, Alyosha was surprised to discover that, besides working for others, there was another kind of connection between people—something very different. He realized that a person was not only valued for cleaning boots, running errands, and taking care of horses. For the first time, he saw that someone could be wanted not for their work, but just for who they were—someone could want to care for them, be kind to them, and love them. Suddenly, Alyosha felt that he was such a person.

Alyosha made this discovery because of the cook, Ustinia. She was young, had no parents, and worked as hard as Alyosha. For the first time in his life, he realized that someone needed him—not just for his work, but for who he was.

When his mother used to feel sorry for him, he never thought much about it. It seemed natural, as if he was feeling sorry for himself. But Ustinia was different—she was not family, yet she cared about him. She would save him some hot porridge and watch him while he ate, resting her chin on her bare arm with her sleeve rolled up. When he looked at her, she would start laughing, and he would laugh too.

This feeling was so new and strange to him that it scared him. He worried that it might get in the way of his work. But still, it made him happy. When he looked at his trousers that Ustinia had mended for him, he would shake his head and smile. While working or running errands, he often thought about her.

“Ustinia is a fine girl,” he would sometimes say to himself.

Ustinia helped him whenever she could, and he helped her too. She told him all about her life—how she lost her parents, how her aunt took her in and found her a job in town, how the merchant’s son tried to take advantage of her, and how she pushed him away. She liked to talk, and Alyosha liked to listen. He had heard that peasants who came to work in the towns often married servant girls. One day, Ustinia asked him if his parents were planning to arrange a marriage for him soon. He said he didn’t know, but he was sure of one thing—he did not want to marry any of the village girls.

“Have you fallen for someone, then?”

“I would marry you, if you wanted to.”

“Oh, stop it, Alyosha the Pot! So, you’ve learned how to talk, have you?” she said, laughing and playfully hitting him on the back with a towel she was holding. “And why shouldn’t I?”

At Shrovetide, Alyosha’s father came to town to collect his wages. The merchant’s wife had heard that Alyosha wanted to marry Ustinia, and she did not like the idea. “What use will she be if she has a baby?” she thought, and told her husband about it.

The merchant gave Alyosha’s father his wages.

“How is my boy doing?” he asked. “I told you he was hardworking.”

“That’s true,” the merchant said. “But now he has gotten some silly idea into his head. He wants to marry our cook. I don’t approve of servants getting married. We don’t allow it in our house.”

“Well, who would have thought that fool would come up with something like this?” Alyosha’s father said in surprise. “But don’t you worry. I’ll take care of it.”

He went into the kitchen and sat down at the table, waiting for his son. Alyosha was out running an errand, and when he returned, he was out of breath.

“I thought you had some sense,” his father began. “But what is this nonsense I hear?”

“Me? Nothing.”

“Nothing? They tell me you want to get married. You will marry when the time is right. I will find you a good wife, not some town girl.”

His father kept talking and talking, while Alyosha just stood there and sighed. When his father finally finished, Alyosha simply smiled.

“All right. I’ll forget about it.”

“Now that’s what I call good sense.”

When Alyosha was alone with Ustinia, he told her what his father had said. (She had been listening at the door.)

“It won’t work. It can’t happen. Did you hear? He was angry—he won’t allow it, no matter what.”

Ustinia cried into her apron.

Alyosha shook his head.

“What can we do? We have to do as we are told.”

That evening, while Alyosha was closing the shutters, his mistress asked: “So, are you going to stop this silly idea, just like your father told you?”

“Of course we are,” Alyosha replied with a smile—and then suddenly, he burst into tears.

From that day, Alyosha continued his work as usual and never talked to Ustinia about getting married again. One day during Lent, the clerk told him to clear the snow off the roof. Alyosha climbed up and swept away all the snow. As he was still clearing some frozen pieces from the gutter, his foot slipped, and he fell. Unfortunately, he did not land in the snow, but on a piece of iron near the door. Ustinia and the merchant’s daughter came running toward him.

“Are you hurt, Alyosha?”

“Ah! No, it’s nothing,” he replied.

But when Alyosha tried to lift himself up, he couldn’t. Instead, he just smiled.

They carried him inside the lodge. The doctor arrived, examined him, and asked where he felt pain.

“I feel it everywhere,” he said. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m only worried that the master will be angry. My father should be told.”