變色龍 契訶夫短篇小說(shuō)選

內(nèi)容概要

世界文學(xué)名著表現(xiàn)了作者描述的特定時(shí)代的文化。閱讀這些名著可以領(lǐng)略著者流暢的文筆、逼真的描述、詳細(xì)的刻畫(huà)，讓讀者如同置身當(dāng)時(shí)的歷史文化之中。為此，我們將這套精心編輯的“名著典藏”奉獻(xiàn)給廣大讀者。

書(shū)籍目錄

THE BISHOP
ROTHSCHILD'S FIDDLE
OYSTERS
VANKA
KASHTANKA
CHAMELEON
THE SWEDISH MATCH
THE DARLING
NEIGHBOURS
SORROW
ON OFFICIAL DUTY
THE BEAUTIES
THE MAN IN A CASE
GUSEV
MY LIFE
AT A COUNTRY HOUSE
A FATHER
ON THE ROAD

章節(jié)摘錄

　　"You must excuse my looking at you like this，" she said. N61 have been told so much about you. Especially by Dr. Blagovo; he is simply in love with you. And I have made the acquaintance of your sister too; a sweet， dear girl， but I can never persuade her that there is nothing awful about your adopting the simple life. On the contrary， you have become the most interesting man in the town."　　She looked again at the pail of paste and the wallpaper， and went on：　　"I asked Dr. Blagovo to make me better acquainted with you， but apparently he forgot， or had not time. Anyway， we are acquainted all the same， and if you would come and see me quite simply I should be extremely indebted to you. I so long to have a talk. I am a simple person，" she added， holding out her hand to me， "and I hope that you will feel no constraint with me. My father is not here， he is in Petersburg."　　She went offinto the readirig-room， rustling her skirts， while I went home， and for a long time could not get to sleep. That cheerless autumn some kind soul， evidently wishing to alleviate my existence， sent me fi：om time to time tea and lemons， or biscuits， or roast game. Karpovna told me that they were always brought by a soldier， and from whom they came she did not know; and the soldier used to enquire whether I was well， and whether I dined every day， and whether I had warm clothing. When the frosts began I was presented in the same way in my absence with a soft knitted scarf brought by the soldier. There was a faint elusive smell of scent about it， and I guessed who my good fairy was. The scarf smelt of　 And when the flunkey whispered to him what I was， the son of Poloznev the architect， he became embarrassed， turned crimson， but immediately recovered himself and said： "Devil take him."　　In the shops they palmed off on us workmen putrid meat， musty flour， and tea that had been used and dried again; the police hustled us in church， the assistants and nurses in the hospital plundered us， and if we were too poor to give them a bribe they revenged themselves by bringing us food in dirty vessels. In the post-office the pettiest official considered he had a right to treat us like animals， and to shout with coarse insolence： "You wait!" "Where are you shoving to?" Even the housedogs were unfriendly to us， and fell upon us with peculiar viciousness. But the thing that struck me most of all in my new position was the complete lack of justice， what is defined by the peasants in the words： "They have forgotten God." Rarely did a day pass without swindling. We were swindled by the merchants who sold us oil， by the contractors and the workmen and the people who employed us. I need not say that there could never be a question of our rights， and we always had to ask for the money we earned as though it were a charity， and to stand waiting for it at the back door， cap in　　hand.　　I was papering a room at the club next to the reading-room; in the evening， when I was just getting ready to go， the daughter of Dolzhikov， the engineer， walked into the room with a bundle of books under her arm.　　……

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