THERE once was a man who held an office that re-quired good penmanship．While he filled the office ablyotherwise， he was incapable of good penmanship． So headvertised in the newspaper for someone with a fine hand－ writing；and so many applied that the applications could have filled a whole bucket． But one was all he needed．And so he chose the first he came to， one with a script as beautiful as that of the finest writing machine． The man inoffice was an excellent writer．And when his writings ap- peared in the handsome lettering，everyone said，"That is beautifully written．"
"That's my work，"said the fellow，whose mind wasn't worth a penny．
And after hearing such praise for a whole week， hebecame so conceited that he wanted to be the man in office himself． He really would have made a fine writing teacher，and would have looked well in his white necktie at ladies'
tea parties． But that wasn't what he wanted； he Wanted tooutwrite all the other writers． And he wrote about paintersand sculptors， about composers and the theater． He wrotean awful lot of nonsense， and when it was too dreadful， hewould write the following day that it had been a misprint．
As a matter of fact， everything he wrote was a misprint，but the sad part was that his only asset， his beautiful hand－writing， couldn't be seen in print．
"I can break；I can make！I'm a hell of a fellow， sort of a little god， and not so little， at that！"
This was a lot of silly talk． And that he finally died of． On his death a flowery obituary appeared in the news－ paper． Now， wasn't that a sorry tale—his being painted inglowing terms by a friend who really could write stories？
Despite the good intentions of his friend， his life sto－ry， with all its nastiness， clamoring， and prattle， became avery sad fairy tale indeed．
书法家
从前有一个人，他的职务要求他写一手漂亮的字。他能满足他的职务的其他方面的要求，可是一手漂亮的字他却写不出来。因此他就登了一个广告，要找一位写字好的人。应征的信很多，几乎可以装满一桶。但是他只能录取一个人。他把头一个应征的人录取了。这人写的一手字跟最好的打字机打出来的一样漂亮。有职务的这位先生很有些写文章的才气。当他的文章用这样好看的字体写出来的时候，大家都说：“写得真漂亮！”
“这是我的成绩，”写字的人说——他实际上是半文钱也不值。他把这些称赞听了一个星期以后，就骄傲起来，也盼望自己成为那个有职务的人。
他的确可以成为一个很好的书法教员，而且当他打着一个白领结去参加茶话会的时候，他的确也还像个样子。但是他却想写作，而且想把所有的作家打垮。于是他就写起关于绘画和雕刻、戏剧和音乐的文章来。
他写了一大堆可怕的废话。当这些东西写得太糟了的时候，他在第二天又写，说那是排字的错误。
事实上他所写的东西全是排字的错误，而且在排出的字中（这是一件不幸的事情），人们却看不出他唯一拿手的东西——漂亮的书法。
“我能打垮，也能赞扬。我是一个了不起的人物，一个小小的上帝——也并不太小！”
这的确是扯淡，而他却在扯淡中死去了。《贝尔林报》上登了他的讣告，他的那位能写童话的朋友把他描写得非常好——这本身就是一件糟糕的事情。
虽然他朋友的用意不坏，他一生的所作所为——胡说，叫喊，扯淡——毕竟还是一篇糟糕透顶的童话。
这篇小品一直没有发表过，因此它是哪一年写成的无从知道。到了1926年它才在《贝尔林斯基报》该年月4日上首次发表。这篇作品的寓意很明显，无再作解释的必要。