The first time they treated him gently; on the second day,
however, for every mistake they began to deduct from him five
kopecks per watermelon out of the common share. The following time
when this happened, they threatened to throw him out of the party
at once, without any reckoning. Platonov even now still remembered
how a sudden fury seized him: "Ah, so? The devil take you!" he had
thought. "And yet you want me to be chary of your watermelons? So
then, here you are, here you are! ..." This flare-up helped him as
though instantaneously. He carelessly caught the watermelons, just
as carelessly threw them over, and to his amazement suddenly felt
that precisely just now he had gotten into the real swing of the
work with all his muscles, sight, and breathing; and understood,
that the most important thing was not to think at all of the
watermelons representing some value, and that then everything went
well. When he, finally, had fully mastered this art, it served him
for a long time as a pleasant and entertaining athletic game of
its own kind. But that, too, passed away.
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