Welcome back, everyone to 1001 classic short stories and tales.

This is your host and storyteller, John Haggardorn.

Today, a story called A Trivial

Incident by Russian writer Anton Chekhov.

It was a sunny August midday, as, in company with a Russian prince who had come down in the world, I drove

into the immense so-called Shabelsky pine forest, where we were intending to look for woodcocks.

In virtue of the part he plays in this story, my poor prince deserves a detailed description.

He was a tall, dark man, still youngish, though already somewhat battered by life,

with long mustaches like a police captain's, with prominent black eyes, and with the

manners of a retired army man.

He was a man of oriental type, not very intelligent, but straightforward and honest, not a bully,

not a fop, and not a rake, virtues which, in the eyes of the general public, not a bully, not a fop, and not a rake.

Virtues which, in the eyes of the general public, are equivalent to a certificate of

being a non-entity and a poor creature.

People generally did not like him.

He was never spoken of in the district except as the illustrious duffer.

I personally found the poor prince extremely nice with his misfortunes and failures,

which made up indeed his whole life.

First of all, he was poor.

He did not play cards, did not drink, had no occupation,

did not poke his nose into anything,

and maintained a perpetual silence,

...