The important thing is not to get depressed.
Why, I am certainly no drunkard, nor a
spendthrift. I am a regular German
in my behavior.

The doctor visiting Chekhov, who spat blood
on his bed, was called by a crude phone
to go at once and treat Tolstoy,
whose intermittent heartbeats
were signaling for help. Now
if it were not for the doctor
I think I might start drinking
if you told me this tale.

But imagine his joy,
riding between commitments
along the coast of Yalta
in the fresh open air!