Twist of Time

I DON'T remember how we got on the subject, but on a recent shopping trip to Mount Kisco I was prompted to tell my wife the story of ''Masha and Sasha.'' It's something I read in a book when I was a very little boy, and it stuck with me ever since. It seemed like such a valuable lesson to learn and to live by.
I DON'T remember how we got on the subject, but on a recent shopping trip to Mount Kisco I was prompted to tell my wife the story of ''Masha and Sasha.'' It's something I read in a book when I was a very little boy, and it stuck with me ever since. It seemed like such a valuable lesson to learn and to live by. The story of ''Masha and Sasha'': Once upon a time, in a little village, there lived a dry-goods merchant who had two apprentices, Masha and Sasha. After six months, Masha came to the boss and said, ''Boss, I've been here just as long as Sasha, but you pay him two rubles a week more than me. That's just not fair.''
''You may be right, my boy,'' said the kindly merchant. ''So let's see what we can do about it.''
''Look out the window, way up the main street, almost at the edge of town. What do you see in the middle of the road?
''A peddler,'' Masha said, ''with a horse and wagon, coming this way.'' ''Very good. Go see what he's selling.'' Masha put on his cap, ran out of the store, up the street and came back in about seven minutes, with this report: ''He's selling linen.''
''Hmmm,'' the merchant mused. ''We're running low and could probably use some. Ask him how much he wants for it.''
Masha ran out again, came back in three minutes this time, because the peddlar was continuously moving through town, and provided this information: ''He wants 100 rubles for each bolt.''
''Not bad,'' the merchant said, ''but I don't know how many meters to each bolt. Go find out.''
Another run out and back, and a minute later Masha brought back ''50 meters per bolt, Boss.''
''That's not bad. But how wide is the cloth?'' Another trip, another run - this time in the opposite direction, because the peddlar was by now heading for the outskirts of the village - and Masha has discovered that the goods are 60 centimeters wide.
''O.K., Masha. Take a well-earned rest. But first, ask Sasha to come in.''
When Sasha entered, the merchant posed the same problem. ''Sasha, do you see the peddlar who is just leaving our village? Go find out what he's selling.'' Completely out of breath, Sasha returns 10 minutes later. ''Boss, he's selling linen, and we're really short in this material. He has 50 bolts for sale, each one two-ply, 60 centimeters wide, 50 meters per bolt. He asked for 100 rubles a bolt, but I talked him into letting you have them for 92. He's unloading downstairs.'' Moral? In the old days, the moral would have been cloyingly obvious, as it was intended to be. But my wife objected. ''No way,'' she said.
''In today's real world,'' she sadly suggested, ''Sasha and Masha would both be making the same salary. Union rules, tenure, Equal Employment Opportunity and all sorts of governmental regulations would insist on it. Not only that, but if one of the two boys has to be fired, it won't be Masha. Count on it. He doesn't pose a threat to the boss's position!''
Times change. And with it ''the moral of the story.''