SCENE XI

_The same and_ PODKHALYÚZIN, _who enters_


BOLSHÓV. What do you say, Lázar? Just come from town? How are your affairs?

PODKHALYÚZIN. Oh, they're getting on so-so; thank God, sir! Good morning,
Sysóy Psoich! [_Bows_.

RISPOLÓZHENSKY. How do you do, my dear Lázar Elizárych! [_Bows_.

BOLSHÓV. If they're getting on, let 'em get. [_After a short silence_] But,
look here, Lázar, when you make up the balance for me at your leisure, you
might deduct the retail items sold to the gentry, and the rest of that sort
of thing. You see, we're trading and trading, my boy, but there's not a
kopek of profit in it. Maybe the clerks are going wrong and are carrying
off stuff to their folks and mistresses. You ought to give 'em a word of
advice. What's the use of fooling around without making any profits? Don't
they know the tricks of the trade? It's high time, it seems to me.

PODKHALYÚZIN. How in the world can they help knowing, Samsón Sílych? It
seems as if I were always in town and always talking to them, sir.

BOLSHÓV. But what do you say?

PODKHALYÚZIN. Why, the usual thing, sir. I try to have everything in order
and as it should be. "Now, my boys," I say, "look sharp, now. Maybe there's
a chance for a sale; some idiot of a purchaser may turn up, or a colored
pattern may catch some young lady's eye, and click!" I say, "you add a