A Masterpiece of Russian Literature: Anton Chekhov’s Heart-Wrenching Short Story

“If you haven't read Russian literature, you haven't truly read literature.”
I often give examples to prove this point, and today I’m sharing yet another one...

This is one of the most astonishing short stories in the history of world literature, written by the Russian author Anton Chekhov:

A few days ago, I was called into my office room, where my children’s nanny, Yulia Vassilyevna, had come to settle her dues.

I said to her:
“Sit down, Yulia… let’s settle the accounts. You often need money, but you’re too shy to ask for it. Anyway, we agreed on thirty rubles a month.”

Yulia said,
“Forty.”

I replied,
“No, thirty… I have it recorded. I always pay my nannies thirty rubles.”

She said,
“Alright.”

I asked,
“How many months did you work?”

Yulia replied,
“Two months and five days.”

I said,
“Okay, two months. That’s what I have noted. So, you’re owed sixty rubles. But we’ll deduct nine Sundays because you didn’t tutor Kolya those days — you just stayed with him. Then you took three days off.”

Yulia Vassilyevna’s face turned pale. Her fingers began nervously twisting the edge of her dress, but she didn’t say a word.

I continued:
“We’ll deduct twelve rubles for those three days. Kolya was sick for four days, so you only taught Varya — subtract another seven rubles. Then for three days, you had a toothache, so my wife let you go after lunch — subtract another twelve rubles. That leaves us with forty-one rubles, right?”

Yulia’s eyes filled with tears. Her chin trembled, but she still said nothing.

I calculated further:
“Before New Year’s, you broke a cup and a saucer — that’s six rubles deducted. Then Kolya, due to your carelessness, climbed a tree and tore his jacket — that’s ten rubles. Our maid stole one of his shoes — and watching over the staff is your responsibility — so deduct five more rubles. And on January 10th, you borrowed ten rubles from me.”

Yulia whispered,
“I didn’t borrow that.”

I said,
“But I have it recorded.”

She replied,
“Alright, as you say.”

I finalized the calculation:
“Forty-one minus twenty-seven leaves fourteen rubles.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks. Beads of sweat appeared on her long, beautiful nose.

In a broken voice, she said,
“I only borrowed three rubles once… not more.”

I exclaimed,
“Really? I didn’t note that! So, if we subtract three from fourteen, you’re left with eleven rubles. Here — these are your eleven rubles.”

I placed the coins in her palm. With trembling fingers, she put them into her pocket and softly said,
“Thank you.”

I was furious. I asked,
“What are you thanking me for?”

She replied,
“For the money.”

I said,
“But I cheated you, robbed you of your right! And you’re still thanking me?”

She said,
“Because elsewhere, I wouldn’t get anything at all.”

Shocked, I asked,
“What? You don’t get paid at other places?”

She softly smiled and replied,
“Yes, it’s possible.”

I stared at her and thought to myself:
How painful it is to be powerless in this world.