Collected Stories by Franz Kafka

top of it his spectacles, which he covered with one hand.
    ‘Yes, I’ve been thinking it over. If he’s a good friend of mine, I said to myself, my being happily engaged should make him happy too. And so I wouldn’t put off telling him any longer. But before I posted the letter I wanted to let you know.’
    ‘Georg,’ said his father, lengthening his toothless mouth, ‘listen to me! You’ve come to me about this business, to talk it over with me. No doubt that does you honor. But it’s nothing, it’s worse than nothing, if you don’t tell me the whole truth. I don’t want to stir up matters that shouldn’t be mentioned here. Since the death of our dear mother certain things have been done that aren’t right. Maybe the time will come for mentioning them, and maybe sooner than we think. There’s many a thing in the business I’m not aware of, maybe it’s not done behind my back – I’m not going to say that it’s done behind my back – I’m not equal to things any longer, my memory’s failing, I haven’t an eye for so many things any longer. That’s the course of nature in thefirst place, and in the second place the death of our dear mother hit me harder than it did you. – But since we’re talking about it, about this letter, I beg you, Georg, don’t deceive me. It’s a trivial affair, it’s hardly worth mentioning, so don’t deceive me. Do you really have this friend in St. Petersburg?’
    Georg rose in embarrassment. ‘Never mind my friends. A thousand friends wouldn’t make up to me for my father. Do you know what I think? You’re not taking enough care of yourself. But old age must be taken care of. I can’t do without you in the business, you know that very well, but if the business is going to undermine your health, I’m ready to close it down tomorrow forever. And that won’t do. We’ll have to make a change in your way of living. But a radical change. You sit here in the dark, and in the sitting room you would have plenty of light. You just take a bite of breakfast instead of properly keeping up your strength. You sit by a closed window, and the air would be so good for you. No, Father! I’ll get the doctor to come, and we’ll follow his orders. We’ll change your room, you can move into the front room and I’ll move in here. You won’t notice the change, all your things will be moved with you. But there’s time for all that later, I’ll put you to bed now for a little, I’m sure you need to rest. Come, I’ll help you to take off your things, you’ll see I can do it. Or if you would rather go into the front room at once, you can lie down in my bed for the present. That would be the most sensible thing.’
    Georg stood close beside his father, who had let his head with its unkempt white hair sink on his chest.
    ‘Georg,’ said his father in a low voice, without moving.
    Georg knelt down at once beside his father, in the old man’s weary face he saw the pupils, overlarge, fixedly looking at him from the corners of the eyes.
    ‘You have no friend in St. Petersburg. You’ve always been a leg-puller and you haven’t even shrunk from pulling my leg. How could you have a friend out there! I can’t believe it.’
    ‘Just think back a bit, Father,’ said Georg, lifting his father from the chair and slipping off his dressing gown as he stood feebly enough, ‘it’ll soon be three years since my friend came to see us last. I remember that you used not to like him very much. At least twice I kept you from seeing him, although he was actually sitting with me in my room. I could quite well understand your dislike of him, my friend has his peculiarities. But then, later, you got on with him very well. I was proud because you listened to him and nodded and asked him questions. If you think back you’re bound to remember. He used to tell us the most incredible stories of the Russian Revolution. For instance, when he was on a business trip to Kiev and ran into a riot, and saw a