Busy as were Shukhov's hands, the frost nipped his fingers through the shabby mittens. And it was piercing his left boot too. His stamped his foot. Thud, thud. By now he needn't stoop to the wall, but he still had to bend his aching back for each block and each stoop of mortar. "Hey, boys!" he pestered the men handling the blocks. "You'd better put them on the wall for me. Heave 'em up here." The captain would gladly have obliged but lacked the strength. He wasn't used to the work. But Alyosha [the Baptist] said, "All right, Ivan Denisovich. Show me where to put them." You could count on Alyosha. Did whatever was asked of him. If everybody in the world was like that, Shukhov would have done likewise. If a man asks for help, why not help him? Those Baptists had something there.
Wednesday, December 17, 2014
Baptists Might Be Alright
From the book I mentioned in the previous post, I was amused by the following: