An Initial Investment

In the Great Empire of Russia, not far from the city of Kiev, there once lived a wealthy moujik who had a son named Peter. The lad was tall and handsome, with a ready wit and a quick smile, but he caused his father no little distress by his apparent unwillingness to work. Instead of helping supervise the sugar beet farm that was the source of the family's well-being, Peter preferred to spend his time basking in the sun or exchanging jokes with the young maid-servants.

One summer day, the worried moujik decided to face the problem squarely. With a sign he sum.moned the youth to him.

"Why do you lie about all day and learn nothing, Peter?" he asked sorrowfully. "The time will soon come when you will have to support yourself."

A twinkle came into the eyes of the young man, but he seemed genuinely touched by his father's concern.

"I will try!" he said. "Give me one hundred rubles and your blessing and I shall seek to invest them wisely."

The anxious parent was so encouraged by this unexpected demonstration of initiative that he gladly gave his son the desired amount. Scarcely taking the time to change his clothing, the latter swung himself on his horse and set off for the city.

Peter had no very clear idea of what he was going to do. The city appeared a place of golden opportunity simply because he detested anything and everything that had to do with sugar beets.

Near the city, an imposing chateau with splendid towers caught his eye. It was surrounded by a high iron fence. Riding closer, he saw behind the fence a slim and elegantly dressed young lady strolling through a spacious garden. The damsel turned at the sound of the horse's hoofs so that Peter was suddenly confronted with a pair of the most haughty and lovely eyes he had ever seen. Quick as a flash he dismounted and strode to the fence, never once losing sight of the charming spectacle before him.

The young lady, however, seemed little interested in the handsome face that pressed against the bars. "Why do you stand there?" she asked coldly, walking over to him.

"Pardon my boldness, gracious lady," Peter said, looking down in sham modesty, "I came to admire your beauty."

His repressed yet vibrant tone caused her to flush slightly.

"If," he continued hesitantly, "you would deign to show me your exquisite legs as far as the dainty garters under your knees, I will give you a hundred rubles."

The eyebrows of the lady arched in anger and she seemed on the verge of uttering a sharp dismissal. But then her eyes ran over the muscular form of the youth pleading before her and she apparently changed her mind. A slow smile crossed her features.

"Indeed, why should I not show you my legs?" she said with arrogant composure. "There, lad! Is that what you want?" And she lifted her rich gown the requested distance.

Peter's gaze could not have appeared more enamored. When she lowered her skirt, he sighed deeply. Then he gave her the hundred rubles and returned home.

His father awaited him eagerly.

"Well, son," he queried, "how did you fare?"

Peter thought for a moment.

"Father," he began, "I cannot yet divulge the exact nature of my undertaking. Let us say that I have purchased a parcel of land and enough lumber to build a store. Give me another two hundred rubles with which to pay the carpenters."

The father was overjoyed at this businesslike answer and gave him the two hundred rubles. Promptly the next morning Peter returned to the chateau and stationed himself at the iron fence.

The haughty young damsel soon caught sight of him and not entirely by chance. For she had strangely enjoyed the unusual experience of the preceding day, and no small part of her thoughts had been occupied by the handsome stranger. Clad in a revealing blue gown, she entered the garden and approached Peter.

"Why have you returned, young man?" she inquired, her voice trembling slightly.

"To see you again, my lady," Peter replied humbly. "Your beauty leaves me no rest."

The girl's eyes became limpid pools.

"Poor youth," she exclaimed, "what can I do for you?"

Peter looked at her fervently. "If you will let me see your lovely knees, I will give you two hundred rubles."

The damsel shook her head reprovingly. "What a rogue you are!" she chided. But her voice was warm and she raised her gown the stipulated distance and even more before his gaze. If she sought admiration, Peter's rapt stare must have satisfied her fully. Again he gave her the money, bowed, and went home.

His father met him on his return.

"Tell me, son," he asked hopefully. "Is the store built?"

"The money is well invested," said Peter slowly. "Now give me three hundred rubles to buy the merchandise."

The moujik did not protest even at this sizable request, but his curiosity as to the true nature of his son's project had grown to such proportions that he decided to see for himself. The next morning when Peter set out, the father followed at a short distance.

The youth returned to the chateau. In a very few minutes the damsel came out a side door and walked quickly to the fence. Without a word she unlocked the gate and permitted Peter to enter. Then she escorted him to a comfortable and secluded bench.

"Why have you returned, young man?" she asked, placing her graceful hand on his.

"I dare not tell you!"

"Pray do! You can be assured of my leniency."

Peter's voice throbbed with what might have been strong emotion. "Fair lady! I suffer unspeakably. Day and night I am consumed by the desire to see you — as you really are."

"Sir!"

"Please do not be offended! Only the sight of your beauty can ease my pain. If you will remove your clothes and lie beside me on this bench, I will give you three hundred rubles!"

The girl hesitated, and the heightened color of her cheeks was replaced by an unusual pallor. She took a deep breath.

"It is a bargain," she said. Then, tensely, as though it were an after-thought: "But you must promise not to touch me!"

Peter promised and gave her the money, whereupon the pretty young woman undressed, exposing her undeniable charms to full view, and lay down on the bench beside him.

Peter lay completely motionless, but the young lady soon grew restive.

"You need not take your promise so seriously," she pouted, after a time.

"Oh, indeed I must!" Peter retorted firmly. "It would be dishonorable for me to break my word."

The dainty figure beside him grew more and more restless.

"You have given me six hundred rubles. If you will only forget your promise, I will give them all back to you," she said huskily.

"No," Peter insisted. "I could not do that. It would not be right."

The lady now appeared in agony.

"Listen to me, sweet lad," she pleaded. "I will give you twice what you have given me. I will give you twelve hundred rubles. But ... you must forget your promise!"

At this point the father, who had been listening from behind the fence with bated breath, could restrain himself no longer.

"You fool, you fool!" he shouted. "What are you waiting for? It is an excellent profit!"

At the sound of his voice the damsel started as if she had been struck. Her face crimson, she jumped to her feet, threw her gown about her, and fled into the chateau. Peter was left quite alone with neither the lady nor the money to console him.

For a moment his eyes remained fixed on the tiny side door. Then, shaking his head, he rose slowly and went over to where his father had been hiding.

"Dear meddlesome father!" he sighed. "I'm afraid you'll have to support me once more. You have just caused me to lose every penny of my investment."

The father watched unseen ... as his son bargained with the lady.