Pushkin’s story “The Station Warden” was written in 1830 and was included in the cycle “Tales of the late Ivan Petrovich Belkin.” The leading theme of the work is the theme of the “little man”, represented by the image of the station guard Samson Vyrin. The story belongs to the literary movement of sentimentalism.

A concise presentation of “The Station Agent” will be of interest to 7th grade students, as well as to anyone interested in classical Russian literature. On our website you can read a summary of “The Station Agent” online.

Main characters

Narrator- an official who “traveled Russia for twenty years in a row”, the story is narrated on his behalf.

Samson Vyrin- a man of about fifty, a station superintendent “from the venerable class of caretakers,” Dunya’s father.

Other heroes

Avdotya Samsonovna (Dunya)- daughter Vyrina, a very beautiful girl, at the beginning of the story she is about 14 years old - a “little coquette” with big blue eyes.

Captain Minsky- a young hussar who took Dunya away by deception.

Brewer's son- the boy who showed the narrator where Vyrin’s grave is located.

The story begins with the narrator's thoughts about the fate of the stationmasters: “What is a stationmaster? A real martyr of the fourteenth class, protected by his rank only from beatings, and even then not always.” At the same time, according to the narrator’s observations, “the caretakers are generally peaceful people, helpful by nature.”

In May 1816, the narrator was passing through the *** province. The man was caught in the pouring rain and stopped at the station to change clothes and drink tea. The caretaker's daughter, Dunya, set the table, striking the narrator with her beauty.

While the owners were busy, the narrator looked around the room - there were pictures on the walls depicting the story of the prodigal son. The narrator, the caretaker and Dunya drank tea, chatting pleasantly “as if they had known each other for centuries.” When leaving, the narrator kissed Dunya in the entryway with her permission.

A few years later the narrator visited this station again. Entering the house, he was struck by the carelessness and dilapidation of the furnishings. The caretaker himself, Samson Vyrin, has grown very old and gray. At first the old man did not want to answer questions about his daughter, but after two glasses of punch he began to talk.

Vyrin said that three years ago a young hussar came to visit them. At first the visitor was very angry that he was not served horses, but when he saw Dunya, he softened. After dinner, the young man allegedly became ill. Having bribed a doctor called the next day, the hussar spent a couple of days at the station. On Sunday, the young man recovered and, leaving, offered to give the girl a ride to church. Vyrin released his daughter with the hussar.

“Not even half an hour had passed” when the caretaker began to worry and went to the church himself. From a sexton acquaintance, Vyrin learned that Dunya was not at mass. In the evening, the coachman carrying the officer arrived and said that Dunya had gone with the hussar to the next station. The old man realized that the hussar’s illness was feigned. From grief, Vyrin “fell ill with a severe fever.”

“Having barely recovered from his illness,” the caretaker took a leave of absence and went on foot to look for his daughter. From Minsky's journey, Samson knew that the hussar was on his way to St. Petersburg. Having found out the address of the captain in St. Petersburg, Vyrin comes to him and in a trembling voice asks to give him his daughter. Minsky replied that he asked Samson for forgiveness, but he would not give Dunya to him - “she will be happy, I give you my word of honor.” Having finished speaking, the hussar sent the caretaker outside, slipping several banknotes down his sleeve.

Seeing the money, Vyrin burst into tears and threw it away. A couple of days later, while walking along Liteinaya, Vyrin noticed Minsky. Having found out from his coachman where Dunya lived, the caretaker hurried to his daughter’s apartment. Entering the rooms, Samson found luxuriously dressed Dunya and Minsky there. Seeing her father, the girl fainted. The angry Minsky “grabbed the old man by the collar with a strong hand and pushed him onto the stairs.” Two days later Virin went back to the station. For the third year now, he knows nothing about her and is afraid that her fate is the same as the fate of other “young fools.”

After some time, the narrator again passed through those places. Where the station used to be, the brewer’s family now lived, and Vyrin, having become an alcoholic, “died about a year ago.” The narrator asked to be escorted to Samson's grave. The boy, the son of a brewer, told him on the way that in the summer a “beautiful lady” came here “with three little barchats”, who, having come to the caretaker’s grave, “lay down here and lay there for a long time.”

Conclusion

In the story « Stationmaster" A. S. Pushkin outlined the special nature of the conflict, which differs from the sentimentalism depicted in traditional works - the conflict of choice between Vyrin’s personal happiness (father’s happiness) and the happiness of his daughter. The author emphasized the moral superiority of the caretaker (“little man”) over the other characters, depicting an example of the selfless love of a parent for his child.

A brief retelling of “The Station Agent” is intended to quickly familiarize yourself with the plot of the work, therefore, for a better understanding of the story, we advise you to read it in its entirety.

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This cycle includes several short stories that are interconnected by one narrator - Ivan Petrovich Belkin.

This character is fictional, as Pushkin wrote, he suffered from a fever and died in 1828.

In contact with

The reader learns about the fate of the narrator when he first begins to get acquainted with the series of stories, which can also be read online. The author in his work acts as a publisher and in the “Preface” he talks about the fate of the narrator Belkin himself. This Pushkin cycle of stories came out of print in 1831. It included the following works:

  1. "Undertaker".

The history of the story

Alexander Pushkin worked on the work, n while in 1830 in Boldino. The story was written quickly, in just a few days, and by September 14 it was finished. It is known that some financial issues brought him to the Boldinskoye estate, but the cholera epidemic forced him to linger.

At this time, many beautiful and remarkable works were written, among which the most outstanding is “The Station Agent,” a brief retelling of which can be read in this article.

Plot and composition of the story

This is a story about ordinary people who experience both moments of happiness and tragedy in their lives. The plot of the story shows that happiness is different for each person and that it is sometimes hidden in the small and ordinary.

The whole life of the main character is connected with the philosophical thought of the entire cycle. In Samson Vyrin's room there are many pictures from the famous parable of the prodigal son, which help not only to understand the content of the entire story, but also its idea. He waited for his Dunya to return to him, but the girl still did not return. The father understood perfectly well that his daughter was not needed by the one who took her away from the family.

The narration in the work comes from the perspective of the titular adviser, who knew both Dunya and her father. There are several main characters in the story:

  1. Narrator.
  2. Dunya.
  3. Samson Vyrin.
  4. Minsky.

The narrator drove through these places several times and drank tea in the caretaker’s house, admiring his daughter. According to him, Vyrin himself told him this whole tragic story. The beginning of the whole tragic story occurs at the moment when Dunya secretly runs away from home with the hussar.

The final scene of the work takes place in the cemetery where Samson Vyrin now rests. Dunya, who now deeply repents, also asks for forgiveness from this grave.

The main idea of ​​the story

Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin constantly emphasizes in his story: everything parents dream of their children being happy. But Dunya is unhappy, and her sinful love brings her father torment and worries.

The behavior of Dunya and Minsky drives Vyrin to his grave.

Samson Vyrin dies because, while continuing to love his daughter, he lost faith that he would ever see her again.

Dunya seemed to have erased her father from her life, and this ingratitude and loss of the meaning of life, which lay in her daughter, leads to such a sad ending to the story.

Brief retelling of the story

Each person met with the caretakers when setting out on the road. Usually such people only cause anger and rudeness. Few of those on the road revere them, considering them either robbers or monsters. But if you think about what their life is like, delve into it, you will begin to treat them more leniently. They have no peace for whole days, and some irritated passers-by can even beat them, venting their frustration and anger that they accumulated during the ride.

The home of such a caretaker is poor and wretched. There is never peace in it, as guests spend time there waiting for horses. Only compassion can be evoked by a caretaker who, regardless of the weather, is looking for horses, trying to please everyone passing by. The narrator, who has been traveling for twenty years, often visits such dwellings and he knows very well how difficult and thankless this difficult work is.

The narrator again went on duty in 1816. At that time he was young and hot-tempered and often quarreled with the stationmasters. One rainy day, he stopped at one of the stations to rest from the road and change clothes. The tea was served by a girl who was lovely. At that time Dunya was 14 years old. The visitor's attention was also attracted by the pictures that decorated the walls of the caretaker's poor home. These were illustrations from the parable of the prodigal son.

Samson Vyrin was fresh and cheerful, he was already fifty years old. He loved his daughter and raised her freely and freely. The three of them drank tea for a long time and talked cheerfully.

A few years later, the narrator soon found himself in the same places again and decided to visit the stationmaster and his lovely daughter. But Samson Vyrin was unrecognizable: he had aged, there were deep wrinkles on his unshaven face, and he was hunched over.

In the conversation it turned out that three years ago one of the passers-by, seeing Dunya, pretended to faint and become ill. Dunya looked after him for two days. And on Sunday he got ready to leave , offering to take the girl to church mass. Dunya thought for a moment, but the father himself persuaded her to sit in the wagon with a young and slender hussar.

Soon Samson became worried and went to mass, but it turned out that Dunya never appeared there. The girl did not return in the evening, and the drunk driver said that she had left with a young hussar. The caretaker immediately fell ill, and when he recovered, he immediately went to St. Petersburg to find Captain Minsky and return his daughter home. Soon he found himself at a reception with the hussar, but he simply decided to pay him off and demanded that he never seek meetings with his daughter again and not bother her.

But Samson made another attempt and made his way into the house where Dunya lived. He saw her among luxury, happy. But as soon as the girl recognized her father, she immediately fainted. Minsky demanded that Vyrin be expelled and never allowed into this house again. After that, returning home, the stationmaster grew old and never bothered Dunya and Minsky again. This story struck the narrator and haunted him for many years.

When, after a while, he found himself in these parts again, he decided to find out how Samson Vyrin was doing. But it turned out that he died a year ago and was buried in the local cemetery. And the brewer’s family settled in his house. The brewer's son accompanied the narrator to the grave. Vanka said that in the summer some lady came with three children and went to his grave. When she found out that Samson Vyrin had died, she immediately began to cry. And then she went to the cemetery and lay for a long time on her father’s grave.

Analysis of the story

This is a work by Alexander Pushkin the most difficult and saddest of the entire cycle. The novella tells about the tragic fate of the stationmaster and the happy fate of his daughter. Samson Vyrin, having studied the biblical parable of the prodigal son from pictures, constantly thinks that a misfortune could happen to his daughter. He constantly remembers Dunya and thinks that she, too, will be deceived and one day she will be abandoned. And this troubles his heart. These thoughts become disastrous for the stationmaster, who died having lost the meaning of his life.

There are no more unhappy people than stationmasters, for travelers invariably blame the stationmasters for all their troubles and seek to take out their anger on them about bad roads, unbearable weather, bad horses, and the like. Meanwhile, the caretakers are mostly meek and unresponsive people, “real martyrs of the fourteenth class, protected by their rank only from beatings, and even then not always.” The caretaker's life is full of worries and troubles, he sees no gratitude from anyone, on the contrary, he hears threats and screams and feels the pushes of irritated guests. Meanwhile, “one can glean a lot of interesting and instructive things from their conversations.”

In 1816, the narrator happened to be driving through the *** province, and on the way he was caught in the rain. At the station he hurried to change clothes and drink tea. The caretaker's daughter, a girl of about fourteen named Dunya, who amazed the narrator with her beauty, put the samovar on and set the table. While Dunya was busy, the traveler examined the decoration of the hut. On the wall he noticed pictures depicting the story of the prodigal son, on the windows there were geraniums, in the room there was a bed behind a colorful curtain. The traveler invited Samson Vyrin - that was the name of the caretaker - and his daughter to share a meal with him, and a relaxed atmosphere arose that was conducive to sympathy. The horses had already been supplied, but the traveler still did not want to part with his new acquaintances.

Several years passed, and again he had the opportunity to travel along this route. He was looking forward to meeting old acquaintances. “Having entered the room,” he recognized the previous situation, but “everything around showed disrepair and neglect.” Dunya was not in the house either. The aged caretaker was gloomy and taciturn; only a glass of punch stirred him up, and the traveler heard the sad story of Dunya’s disappearance. This happened three years ago. A young officer arrived at the station, who was in a hurry and angry that the horses had not been served for a long time, but when he saw Dunya, he softened and even stayed for dinner. When the horses arrived, the officer suddenly felt very unwell. The doctor who arrived found him to have a fever and prescribed complete rest. On the third day, the officer was already healthy and prepared to leave. It was Sunday, and he offered Duna to take her to church. The father allowed his daughter to go, not expecting anything bad, but he was still overcome by anxiety, and he ran to the church. Mass had already ended, the worshipers were leaving, and from the words of the sexton, the caretaker learned that Dunya was not in the church. The driver who was carrying the officer returned in the evening and reported that Dunya had gone with him to the next station. The caretaker realized that the officer’s illness was feigned, and he himself fell ill with a severe fever. Having recovered, Samson begged for leave and went on foot to St. Petersburg, where, as he knew from the road, Captain Minsky was going. In St. Petersburg he found Minsky and came to him. Minsky did not immediately recognize him, but when he did, he began to assure Samson that he loved Dunya, would never leave her and would make her happy. He gave the caretaker some money and took him outside.

Samson really wanted to see his daughter again. Chance helped him. On Liteinaya he noticed Minsky in a smart droshky, which stopped at the entrance of a three-story building. Minsky entered the house, and the caretaker learned from a conversation with the coachman that Dunya lived here, and entered the entrance. Once in the apartment, through the open door of the room he saw Minsky and his Dunya, beautifully dressed and looking at Minsky with uncertainty. Noticing her father, Dunya screamed and fell unconscious on the carpet. An angry Minsky pushed the old man onto the stairs, and he went home. And now for the third year he knows nothing about Duna and is afraid that her fate is the same as the fate of many young fools.

After some time, the narrator happened to pass through these places again. The station no longer existed, and Samson “died about a year ago.” The boy, the son of a brewer who settled in Samson’s hut, took the narrator to Samson’s grave and said that in the summer a beautiful lady came with three young ladies and lay for a long time on the caretaker’s grave, and the kind lady gave him a silver nickel.

We hope you enjoyed the summary of the story The Station Agent. We will be glad if you take the time to read it in its entirety.

Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin is one of the most widely read authors. All our compatriots, young and old, know his name. His works are read everywhere. This is truly a great writer. And perhaps his books are worth studying more deeply. For example, the same “Tales of the late Ivan Petrovich Belkin” are simple only at first glance. Let's consider one of them, namely “The Station Agent” - a story about how important it is to realize in time the importance of people dear to your heart.

In 1830, Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin went to Boldino to solve some financial problems. He was about to return, but deadly cholera had spread greatly in Russia at that time, and his return had to be postponed for a long time. This period of development of his talent is called the Boldino autumn. During this time, some of the best works were written, including a cycle of stories called “Tales of the late Ivan Petrovich Belkin,” consisting of five works, one of which is “The Station Warden.” Its author finished on September 14th.

During his forced imprisonment, Pushkin suffered from separation from another lady of his heart, so his muse was sad and often put him in a sad mood. Perhaps the very atmosphere of autumn – the time of withering and nostalgia – contributed to the creation of “The Station Agent”. The main character faded as quickly as a leaf dropped from a branch.

Genre and direction

Pushkin himself calls his work “stories,” although essentially each of them is a small novel. Why did he call them that? Alexander Sergeevich answered: “Stories and novels are read by everyone, everywhere” - that is, he did not see much difference between them, and made a choice in favor of the smaller epic genre, as if pointing to the modest volume of the work.

The separate story “The Station Agent” lays the foundations of realism. A hero is a very real hero who could have been encountered in reality at that time. This is the first work in which the theme of the “little man” is raised. It is here that Pushkin first talks about how this unnoticed subject lives.

Composition

The structure of the story “The Station Agent” allows the reader to look at the world through the eyes of the narrator, in whose words the personality of Pushkin himself is hidden.

  1. The story begins with a lyrical digression of the writer, where he abstractly talks about the thankless profession of a station superintendent, who is humiliated by his duty. It is in such positions that the characters of little people are formed.
  2. The main part consists of conversations between the author and the main character: he arrives and learns the latest news about his life. The first visit is an introduction. The second is the main plot twist and climax when he learns about Dunya's fate.
  3. Something like an epilogue represents his last visit to the station, when Samson Vyrin was already dead. It reports his daughter's repentance

About what?

The story “The Station Warden” begins with a short digression, where the author talks about what a humiliating position this is. Nobody pays attention to these people, they are “shooed”, sometimes even beaten. No one ever simply says “thank you” to them, but they are often very interesting interlocutors who can tell a lot.

Then the author talks about Samson Vyrin. He holds the position of stationmaster. The narrator ends up at his station by accident. There he meets the caretaker himself and his daughter Dunya (she is 14 years old). The guest notes that the girl is very pretty. A couple of years later, the hero again finds himself at that same station. During this visit we learn the essence of “The Station Agent”. He meets Vyrin again, but his daughter is nowhere to be seen. Later, from the father’s story, it becomes clear that one day a hussar stopped at the station, and due to illness he had to stay there for some time. Dunya constantly looked after him. Soon the guest recovered and began to get ready for the journey. As a farewell, he offered to take his nurse to church, but she never came back. Later, Samson Vyrin learns that the young man was not sick at all, he was pretending to deceive the girl and take her with him to St. Petersburg. The ranger goes to the city on foot and tries to find the deceiving hussar there. Having found him, he asks to return Dunya to him and not disgrace him anymore, but he refuses him. Later, the unfortunate parent finds the house in which the kidnapper is keeping his daughter. He sees her, dressed richly, and admires her. When the heroine raises her head and sees her father, she gets scared and falls on the carpet, and the hussar drives the poor old man away. After that, the caretaker never saw his daughter again.

After some time, the author again finds himself at the station of the good Samson Vyrin. He learns that the station has been disbanded and the poor old man has died. Now a brewer and his wife live in his house, who sends her son to show where the former caretaker is buried. From the boy the narrator learns that some time ago a rich lady with children came to the city. She also asked about Samson, and when she learned that he had died, she cried for a long time, lying on his grave. Dunya repented, but it was too late.

Main characters

  1. Samson Vyrin is a kind and sociable old man of about 50 who dotes on his daughter. She protects him from beatings and abuse from visitors. When they see her, they always behave calmly and friendly. At the first meeting, Samson looks like a sympathetic and timid man who is content with little and lives only with love for his child. He doesn’t need either wealth or fame, as long as his dear Dunyasha is nearby. At the next meeting, he is already a flabby old man who seeks solace in a bottle. His daughter's escape broke his personality. The image of the stationmaster is a textbook example of a small man who is unable to withstand circumstances. He is not outstanding, not strong, not smart, he is just an ordinary person with a kind heart and a gentle disposition - that is his characteristic. The merit of the author is that he was able to give an interesting description of the most ordinary type, to find drama and tragedy in his modest life.
  2. Dunya is a young girl. She leaves her father and leaves with the hussar not out of selfish or unkind motives. The girl loves her parent, but out of naivety she trusts the man. Like any young woman, she is attracted by a great feeling. She follows him, forgetting everything. At the end of the story we see that she is worried about the death of her lonely father, she is ashamed. But what has been done cannot be undone, and now she, already a mother, cries at her parent’s grave, regretting that she did this to him. Years later, Dunya remains the same sweet and caring beauty, whose appearance is not affected by the tragic story of the station superintendent’s daughter. All the pain of separation was absorbed by her father, who never saw his grandchildren.
  3. Subject

  • In "The Station Agent" he first rises "little man" theme. This is a hero whom no one notices, but who has a big soul. From the author's story we see that he is often scolded for no reason, sometimes even beaten. He is not considered a person, he is a lower level, service staff. But in fact, this resigned old man is infinitely kind. No matter what, he is always ready to offer travelers overnight accommodation and dinner. He allows the hussar, who wanted to beat him and was stopped by Dunya, to stay with him for a few days, calls him a doctor, and feeds him. Even when his daughter betrays him, he is still ready to forgive her everything and accept any of her back.
  • Love theme is also revealed in a unique way in the story. First of all, this is the feeling of a parent for a child, which even time, resentment and separation are powerless to shake. Samson loves Dunya recklessly, runs to save her on foot, searches and does not give up, although no one expected such courage from a timid and downtrodden servant. For her sake, he is ready to endure rudeness and beatings, and only after making sure that his daughter had made a choice in favor of wealth, he gave up and thought that she no longer needed her poor father. Another aspect is the passion of the young charmer and the hussar. At first, the reader was worried about the fate of a provincial girl in the city: she really could have been deceived and dishonored. But in the end it turns out that the casual relationship turned into a marriage. Love is the main theme in “The Station Agent,” since it was this feeling that became both the cause of all troubles and the antidote to them, which was not delivered in a timely manner.
  • Issues

    Pushkin raises moral problems in his work. Succumbing to a fleeting feeling, not supported by anything, Dunya leaves her father and follows the hussar into the unknown. She allows herself to become his mistress, she knows what she is getting into and still does not stop. Here the ending turns out to be happy, the hussar still takes the girl as his wife, but even in those days this was rare. Nevertheless, even for the sake of the prospect of a marriage union, it was not worth renouncing one family while building another. The girl's fiancé behaved unacceptably rudely; it was he who made her an orphan. They both easily stepped over the little man's grief.

    Against the background of Dunya’s act, the problem of loneliness and the problem of fathers and children develop. From the moment the girl left her father's house, she never visited her father, although she knew in what conditions he lived, she never wrote to him. In pursuit of personal happiness, she completely forgot about the man who loved her, raised her and was ready to forgive literally everything. This still happens today. And in the modern world, children leave and forget their parents. Having escaped from the nest, they try to “get out into the world”, achieve goals, chase material success and do not remember those who gave them the most important thing - life. Many parents live the same fate as Samson Vyrin, abandoned and forgotten by their children. Of course, after a while, young people remember their family, and it’s good if it turns out it’s not too late to meet them. Dunya didn’t make it to the meeting.

    the main idea

    The idea of ​​the “Station Agent” is still vital and relevant: even a small person must be treated with respect. You cannot measure people by rank, class or ability to offend others. The hussar, for example, judged those around him by their strength and position, so he caused such grief to his own wife and his own children, depriving them of their father and grandfather. With his behavior, he alienated and humiliated someone who could have become his support in family life. Also, the main idea of ​​the work is a call for us to take care of our loved ones and not put off reconciliation until tomorrow. Time is fleeting and can deprive us of the chance to correct our mistakes.

    If you look at the meaning of the story “The Station Agent” more globally, we can conclude that Pushkin opposes social inequality, which became the cornerstone of relationships between people of that time.

    What makes you think?

    Pushkin also forces careless children to think about their old people, gives them instructions not to forget their parents and to be grateful to them. Family is the most valuable thing in every person’s life. She is the one who is ready to forgive us everything, accept us in any way, console us and calm us down in difficult times. Parents are the most devoted people. They give us everything and ask for nothing in return except love and a little attention and care on our part.

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College Registrar,
Postal station dictator.

Prince Vyazemsky

Who hasn’t cursed the stationmasters, who hasn’t sworn at them? Who, in a moment of anger, did not demand from them a fatal book in order to write into it his useless complaint about oppression, rudeness and malfunction? Who does not consider them monsters of the human race, equal to the late clerks or at least the Murom robbers? Let us, however, be fair, we will try to put ourselves in their position and, perhaps, we will begin to judge them much more leniently. What is a stationmaster? A real martyr of the fourteenth grade, protected by his rank only from beatings, and even then not always (I refer to the conscience of my readers). What is the position of this dictator, as Prince Vyazemsky jokingly calls him? Isn't this real hard labor? I have peace neither day nor night. The traveler takes out all the frustration accumulated during a boring ride on the caretaker. The weather is unbearable, the road is bad, the driver is stubborn, the horses are not moving - and the caretaker is to blame. Entering his poor home, a traveler looks at him as if he were an enemy; it would be good if he managed to get rid of the uninvited guest soon; but if the horses don’t happen?.. God! what curses, what threats will rain down on his head! In the rain and slush, he is forced to run around the yards; in a storm, in the Epiphany frost, he goes into the entryway, just to rest for a minute from the screams and pushes of an irritated guest. The general arrives; the trembling caretaker gives him the last two threes, including the courier one. The general leaves without saying thank you. Five minutes later - the bell rings!.. and the courier throws his travel document on his table!.. Let's look into all this thoroughly, and instead of indignation, our hearts will be filled with sincere compassion. A few more words: for twenty years in a row I traveled across Russia in all directions; I know almost all postal routes; I know several generations of coachmen; I don’t know a rare caretaker by sight, I haven’t dealt with a rare one; I hope to publish a curious stock of my travel observations in a short time; For now I will only say that the class of stationmasters is presented to the general opinion in the most false form. These much-maligned caretakers are generally peaceful people, naturally helpful, inclined towards community, modest in their claims to honor and not too money-loving. From their conversations (which are inappropriately neglected by gentlemen passing by) one can glean a lot of interesting and instructive things. As for me, I confess that I prefer their conversation to the speeches of some 6th class official traveling on official business.

You can easily guess that I have friends from the venerable class of caretakers. Indeed, the memory of one of them is precious to me. Circumstances once brought us closer together, and this is what I now intend to talk about with my dear readers.

In 1816, in the month of May, I happened to be driving through the *** province, along a highway that has now been destroyed. I was in a minor rank, rode on carriages and paid fees for two horses. As a result of this, the caretakers did not stand on ceremony with me, and I often took in battle what, in my opinion, was rightfully due me. Being young and hot-tempered, I was indignant at the baseness and cowardice of the caretaker when this latter gave the troika he had prepared for me under the carriage of the official master. It took me just as long to get used to having a picky servant hand me a dish at the governor’s dinner. Nowadays both seem to me to be in the order of things. In fact, what would happen to us if, instead of the generally convenient rule: honor the rank of rank, something else was introduced into use, for example: honor the mind of the mind? What controversy would arise! and who would the servants start serving the food with? But I turn to my story.

The day was hot. Three miles from the station it began to drizzle, and a minute later the pouring rain soaked me to the last thread. Upon arrival at the station, the first concern was to quickly change clothes, the second was to ask myself some tea. “Hey, Dunya! - the caretaker shouted, “put on the samovar and go get some cream.” At these words, a girl of about fourteen came out from behind the partition and ran into the hallway. Her beauty amazed me. “Is this your daughter?” – I asked the caretaker. “Daughter, sir,” he answered with an air of satisfied pride, “she’s so intelligent, so nimble, she looks like a dead mother.” Then he began to copy out my travel document, and I began to look at the pictures that decorated his humble but neat abode. They depicted the story of the prodigal son: in the first, a respectable old man in a cap and dressing gown releases a restless young man, who hastily accepts his blessing and a bag of money. Another vividly depicts the depraved behavior of a young man: he sits at a table, surrounded by false friends and shameless women. Further, a squandered young man, in rags and a three-cornered hat, tends pigs and shares a meal with them; his face shows deep sadness and remorse. Finally, his return to his father is presented; a kind old man in the same cap and dressing gown runs out to meet him: the prodigal son is on his knees; in the future, the cook kills a well-fed calf, and the elder brother asks the servants about the reason for such joy. Under each picture I read decent German poetry. All this has been preserved in my memory to this day, as well as pots with balsam, and a bed with a colorful curtain, and other objects that surrounded me at that time. I see, as now, the owner himself, a man of about fifty, fresh and cheerful, and his long green coat with three medals on faded ribbons.

Before I had time to pay my old coachman, Dunya returned with a samovar. The little coquette noticed at second glance the impression she made on me; she lowered her big blue eyes; I began to talk to her, she answered me without any timidity, like a girl who has seen the light. I offered my father her glass of punch; I served Duna a cup of tea, and the three of us began talking as if we had known each other for centuries.

The horses were ready a long time ago, but I still didn’t want to part with the caretaker and his daughter. Finally I said goodbye to them; my father wished me a good journey, and my daughter accompanied me to the cart. In the entryway I stopped and asked her permission to kiss her; Dunya agreed... I can count many kisses since I’ve been doing this, but not one has left such a long, such a pleasant memory in me.

Several years passed, and circumstances led me to that very road, to those very places. I remembered the old caretaker's daughter and rejoiced at the thought that I would see her again. But, I thought, the old caretaker may have already been replaced; Dunya is probably already married. The thought of the death of one or the other also flashed through my mind, and I approached the station *** with a sad foreboding.

The horses stopped at the post house. Entering the room, I immediately recognized the pictures depicting the story of the prodigal son; the table and bed were in the same places; but there were no longer flowers on the windows, and everything around showed disrepair and neglect. The caretaker slept under a sheepskin coat; my arrival woke him up; he stood up... It was definitely Samson Vyrin; but how he has aged! While he was getting ready to rewrite my travel document, I looked at his gray hair, at the deep wrinkles of his long-unshaven face, at his hunched back - and could not marvel at how three or four years could turn a vigorous man into a frail old man. “Did you recognize me? - I asked him, “you and I are old acquaintances.” “It may be,” he answered gloomily, “there is a big road here; many travelers visited me.” - “Is your Dunya healthy?” – I continued. The old man frowned. “God knows,” he answered. “So, apparently she’s married?” - I said. The old man pretended not to hear my question and continued to read my travel document in a whisper. I stopped my questions and ordered the kettle to be put on. Curiosity began to bother me, and I hoped that the punch would resolve the language of my old acquaintance.

I was not mistaken: the old man did not refuse the offered glass. I noticed that the rum cleared up his sullenness. By the second glass he became talkative; remembered or pretended to remember me, and I learned from him a story that at that time greatly interested and touched me.

“So you knew my Dunya? - he began. – Who didn’t know her? Ah, Dunya, Dunya! What a girl she was! It happened that whoever passed by, everyone would praise, no one would judge. The ladies gave it as a gift, sometimes with a handkerchief, sometimes with earrings. Gentlemen passing by deliberately stopped, as if to have lunch or dinner, but in fact only to take a closer look at her. It used to be that the master, no matter how angry he was, would calm down in her presence and talk kindly to me. Believe it, sir: the couriers and couriers talked to her for half an hour. She kept the house going: she kept up with everything, what to clean, what to cook. And I, the old fool, can’t get enough of it; Didn’t I really love my Dunya, didn’t I cherish my child; Did she really have no life? No, you can’t avoid trouble; what is destined cannot be avoided.” Then he began to tell me in detail his grief. Three years ago, one winter evening, when the caretaker was ruling a new book, and his daughter was sewing a dress for herself behind the partition, a troika drove up, and a traveler in a Circassian hat, in a military overcoat, wrapped in a shawl, entered the room, demanding horses. The horses were all in full speed. At this news the traveler raised his voice and his whip; but Dunya, accustomed to such scenes, ran out from behind the partition and affectionately turned to the traveler with the question: would he like to have something to eat? Dunya's appearance had its usual effect. The passerby's anger passed; he agreed to wait for the horses and ordered himself dinner. Taking off his wet, shaggy hat, unraveling his shawl and pulling off his overcoat, the traveler appeared as a young, slender hussar with a black mustache. He settled down with the caretaker and began to talk cheerfully with him and his daughter. They served dinner. Meanwhile, the horses arrived, and the caretaker ordered that they immediately, without feeding, be harnessed to the traveler’s wagon; but, when he returned, he found a young man almost unconscious lying on a bench: he felt sick, had a headache, it was impossible to go... What to do! the caretaker gave him his bed, and it was supposed, if the patient did not feel better, to send to S*** for a doctor the next morning.

The next day the hussar became worse. His man went on horseback to the city to get a doctor. Dunya tied a scarf soaked in vinegar around his head and sat down with her sewing by his bed. The patient groaned in front of the caretaker and did not say almost a word, but he drank two cups of coffee and, groaning, ordered himself lunch. Dunya did not leave his side. He constantly asked for a drink, and Dunya brought him a mug of lemonade she had prepared. The sick man wet his lips and each time he returned the mug, as a sign of gratitude, he shook Dunyushka’s hand with his weak hand. The doctor arrived at lunchtime. He felt the patient’s pulse, spoke to him in German and announced in Russian that all he needed was peace and that in two days he would be able to hit the road. The hussar gave him twenty-five rubles for the visit and invited him to dinner; the doctor agreed; They both ate with great appetite, drank a bottle of wine and parted very pleased with each other.

Another day passed, and the hussar completely recovered. He was extremely cheerful, joked incessantly, first with Dunya, then with the caretaker; he whistled songs, talked with passers-by, wrote down their travel information in the postal book, and became so fond of the kind caretaker that on the third morning he was sorry to part with his kind guest. The day was Sunday; Dunya was getting ready for mass. The hussar was given a wagon. He said goodbye to the caretaker, generously rewarding him for his stay and refreshments; He said goodbye to Dunya and volunteered to take her to the church, which was located on the edge of the village. Dunya stood in bewilderment... “What are you afraid of? “- her father said to her, “after all, his honor is not a wolf and will not eat you: take a ride to the church.” Dunya sat down in the wagon next to the hussar, the servant jumped onto the handle, the coachman whistled, and the horses galloped off.

The poor caretaker did not understand how he could allow his Duna to ride with the hussar, how blindness came over him, and what happened to his mind then. Less than half an hour had passed when his heart began to ache and ache, and anxiety took possession of him to such an extent that he could not resist and went to mass himself. Approaching the church, he saw that the people were already leaving, but Dunya was neither in the fence nor on the porch. He hastily entered the church: the priest was leaving the altar; the sexton was extinguishing the candles, two old women were still praying in the corner; but Dunya was not in the church. The poor father forcibly decided to ask the sexton whether she had attended mass. The sexton replied that she had not been. The caretaker went home neither alive nor dead. There was only one hope left for him: Dunya, in the frivolity of her young years, decided, perhaps, to take a ride to the next station, where her godmother lived. In painful anxiety he awaited the return of the troika on which he had let her go. The coachman did not return. Finally, in the evening, he arrived alone and drunk, with the murderous news: “Dunya from that station went further with the hussar.”

The old man could not bear his misfortune; he immediately went to bed in the same bed where the young deceiver had lain the day before. Now the caretaker, considering all the circumstances, guessed that the illness was feigned. The poor man fell ill with a severe fever; he was taken to S*** and someone else was assigned to his place for the time being. The same doctor who came to the hussar also treated him. He assured the caretaker that the young man was completely healthy and that at that time he still guessed about his evil intention, but remained silent, fearing his whip. Whether the German was telling the truth or just wanting to show off his foresight, he did not console the poor patient in the least. Having barely recovered from his illness, the caretaker asked S*** the postmaster for leave for two months and, without telling anyone a word about his intention, he set off on foot to fetch his daughter. From the road station he knew that Captain Minsky was traveling from Smolensk to St. Petersburg. The driver who was driving him said that Dunya cried all the way, although it seemed that she was driving of her own accord. “Perhaps,” the caretaker thought, “I’ll bring my lost sheep home.” With this thought in mind, he arrived in St. Petersburg, stopped at the Izmailovsky regiment, in the house of a retired non-commissioned officer, his old colleague, and began his search. He soon learned that Captain Minsky was in St. Petersburg and lived in the Demutov tavern. The caretaker decided to come to him.

Early in the morning he came to his hallway and asked him to report to his nobility that the old soldier was asking to see him. The military footman, cleaning his boot on the last, announced that the master was resting and that he would not receive anyone before eleven o'clock. The caretaker left and returned at the appointed time. Minsky himself came out to him in a dressing gown and a red skufia. “What do you want, brother?” - he asked him. The old man’s heart began to boil, tears welled up in his eyes, and in a trembling voice he said only: “Your Honor!.. do such a divine favor!..” Minsky looked at him quickly, flushed, took him by the hand, led him into the office and locked him behind him. door. “Your Honor! - continued the old man, - what fell from the cart was lost; at least give me my poor Dunya. After all, you were amused by her; Don’t destroy her in vain.” “What has been done cannot be undone,” said the young man in extreme confusion, “I am guilty before you and am glad to ask you for forgiveness; but don’t think that I could leave Dunya: she will be happy, I give you my word of honor. Why do you need it? She loves Me; she was unaccustomed to her previous state. Neither you nor she will forget what happened.” Then, putting something down his sleeve, he opened the door, and the caretaker, without remembering how, found himself on the street.

He stood motionless for a long time, and finally saw a bundle of papers behind the cuff of his sleeve; he took them out and unfolded several crumpled five- and ten-ruble notes. Tears welled up in his eyes again, tears of indignation! He squeezed the pieces of paper into a ball, threw them on the ground, stamped his heel and walked away... After walking a few steps, he stopped, thought... and turned back... but the banknotes were no longer there. A well-dressed young man, seeing him, ran up to the cab driver, sat down hastily and shouted: “Get off!..” The caretaker did not chase him. He decided to go home to his station, but first he wanted to see his poor Dunya at least once again. For this purpose, two days later he returned to Minsky; but the military footman told him sternly that the master did not accept anyone, pushed him out of the hall with his chest and slammed the doors in his face. The caretaker stood, stood, and then went.

On this very day, in the evening, he walked along Liteinaya, having served a prayer service for All Who Sorrow. Suddenly a smart droshky raced in front of him, and the caretaker recognized Minsky. The droshky stopped in front of a three-story house, right at the entrance, and the hussar ran onto the porch. A happy thought flashed through the mind of the caretaker. He returned and, drawing level with the coachman: “Whose horse, brother? - he asked, “isn’t it Minsky?” “Exactly so,” answered the coachman, “what do you want?” - “Well, here’s the thing: your master ordered me to take a note to his Dunya, and I’ll forget where his Dunya lives.” - “Yes, right here, on the second floor. You are late, brother, with your note; now he’s with her.” “There’s no need,” the caretaker objected with an inexplicable movement of his heart, “thanks for the advice, and I’ll do my job.” And with that word he walked up the stairs.

The doors were locked; he called, several seconds passed in painful anticipation. The key rattled and it was opened for him. “Is Avdotya Samsonovna standing here?” - he asked. “Here,” answered the young maid, “why do you need it?” The caretaker, without answering, entered the hall. “You can’t, you can’t! - the maid shouted after him, “Avdotya Samsonovna has guests.” But the caretaker, without listening, walked on. The first two rooms were dark, the third was on fire. He walked up to the open door and stopped. In the beautifully decorated room, Minsky sat thoughtfully. Dunya, dressed in all the luxury of fashion, sat on the arm of his chair, like a rider on her English saddle. She looked at Minsky with tenderness, wrapping his black curls around her sparkling fingers. Poor caretaker! Never had his daughter seemed so beautiful to him; he couldn't help but admire her. "Who's there?" – she asked without raising her head. He remained silent. Receiving no answer, Dunya raised her head... and fell onto the carpet screaming. Frightened Minsky rushed to pick her up and, suddenly seeing the old caretaker at the door, left Dunya and approached him, trembling with anger. “What do you want? - he said to him, gritting his teeth, - why are you sneaking after me everywhere like a robber? or do you want to stab me? Go away!" - and, with a strong hand, grabbing the old man by the collar, he pushed him onto the stairs.

The old man came to his apartment. His friend advised him to complain; but the caretaker thought, waved his hand and decided to retreat. Two days later he set out from St. Petersburg back to his station and again took up his post. “For three years now,” he concluded, “I have been living without Dunya and there is neither a word nor a breath of her. Whether she is alive or not, God knows. Stuff happens. Not her first, not her last, was lured away by a passing rake, but he held her there and abandoned her. There are a lot of them in St. Petersburg, young fools, today in satin and velvet, and tomorrow, look, they are sweeping the street along with the tavern's nakedness. When you sometimes think that Dunya, perhaps, is disappearing right away, you will inevitably sin and wish for her grave...”

This was the story of my friend, the old caretaker, a story repeatedly interrupted by tears, which he picturesquely wiped away with his lap, like the zealous Terentyich in Dmitriev’s beautiful ballad. These tears were partly aroused by the punch, of which he drew five glasses in the continuation of his story; but be that as it may, they touched my heart greatly. Having parted with him, I could not forget the old caretaker for a long time, I thought for a long time about poor Duna...

Recently, driving through the town of ***, I remembered my friend; I learned that the station over which he commanded had already been destroyed. To my question: “Is the old caretaker alive?” – no one could give me a satisfactory answer. I decided to visit a familiar side, took free horses and set off for the village of N.

This happened in the fall. Gray clouds covered the sky; a cold wind blew from the reaped fields, blowing red and yellow leaves from the trees they encountered. I arrived in the village at sunset and stopped at the post office. In the entryway (where poor Dunya once kissed me) a fat woman came out and answered my questions that the old caretaker had died a year ago, that a brewer had settled in his house, and that she was the brewer’s wife. I felt sorry for my wasted trip and the seven rubles spent for nothing. “Why did he die?” – I asked the brewer’s wife. “I got drunk, father,” she answered. “Where was he buried?” - “Outside the outskirts, near his late mistress.” - “Is it possible to take me to his grave?” - “Why not? Hey Vanka! You've had enough of messing around with the cat. Take the master to the cemetery and show him the caretaker’s grave.”

At these words, a ragged boy, red-haired and crooked, ran out to me and immediately led me outside the outskirts.

- Did you know the dead man? – I asked him dear.

- How can you not know! He taught me how to carve pipes. It used to be (may he rest in heaven!) he would come out of a tavern, and we would follow him: “Grandfather, grandfather! nuts!” - and he gives us nuts. Everything used to mess with us.

– Do passers-by remember him?

- Yes, but there are few travelers; Unless the assessor wraps it up, he has no time for the dead. In the summer, a lady passed by, and she asked about the old caretaker and went to his grave.

- Which lady? – I asked curiously.

“Beautiful lady,” answered the boy; - she rode in a carriage of six horses, with three little barchats and a nurse, and a black pug; and when they told her that the old caretaker had died, she began to cry and said to the children: “Sit still, and I’ll go to the cemetery.” And I volunteered to bring it to her. And the lady said: “I know the way myself.” And she gave me a silver nickel - such a kind lady!..

We came to the cemetery, a bare place, unfenced, dotted with wooden crosses, not shaded by a single tree. I have never seen such a sad cemetery in my life.

“Here is the grave of the old caretaker,” the boy told me, jumping onto a pile of sand into which was buried a black cross with a copper image.

- And the lady came here? – I asked.

“She came,” answered Vanka, “I looked at her from afar.” She lay down here and lay there for a long time. And there the lady went to the village and called the priest, gave him money and went, and gave me a nickel in silver - a nice lady!

And I gave the boy a penny and no longer regretted either the trip or the seven rubles I spent.

1830

The story “The Station Agent” is one of five stories that went down in the history of literature under the name of Belkin’s stories. This story was written in September 1830, the same autumn when Pushkin, having left for property matters, was forced to stay until the winter while cholera was raging in the capitals. But it was a productive autumn for the poet.

The saddest story of the other five stories is about a little man. According to Maxim Gorky, Russian realism began with this small work. The Station Agent was first published along with other works under the name of a certain Ivan Belkin in 1831, and in 1834 they were published under the name of Pushkin himself. Leo Tolstoy believed that Belkin's Tale should be studied by every writer.

One day, an acquaintance of his came to see Pushkin and, seeing Belkin’s Stories that had come out of print on the table, asked: “Who is this Belkin?” To which the poet replied: “Whoever he is, the story must be written this way: simply, briefly and clearly.”

It is also striking that, despite the passage of 200 years, the plot of the story “The Station Agent” has not become outdated and has even acquired some additional relevance in our days. Girls from poor families still dream of breaking out of poverty by falling in love with a wealthy man.


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