not at where the stain was, but just like that, at no particular place; while doing so, he smiled and screwed up his eyes. Then he goggled his eyes and raised his eyebrows so high that his forehead folded up like a concertina and would very nearly have disappeared altogether if Ivan Yakovlevich had not screwed up his eyes again and suddenly, as though ashamed of something, pulled the blanket back up over his head. He did this so quickly that from under the other end of the blanket Ivan Yakovlevich's bare feet were exposed and right then a fly settled on the big toe of his left foot. Ivan Yakovlevich moved this toe and the fly flew over and settled on his heel. Then Ivan Yakovlevich grabbed the blanket with both feet; with one foot he hooked the blanket downwards, while he wiggled his other foot and clasped the blanket upwards with it and by this means pulled the blanket down from over his head. 'Up yours', said Ivan Yakovlevich and blew out his cheeks. Usually, whenever Ivan Yakovlevich managed to do something or, on the contrary, utterly failed, Ivan Yakovlevich always said 'up yours' -- of course, not loudly and not at all so that anyone should hear it, but just like that, quietly to himself. And so, having said 'up yours', Ivan Yakovlevich sat on the bed and extended an arm to the chair, on which his trousers, shirt and underwear lay. As for trousers, Ivan Yakovlevich loved to wear striped ones. But, at one time, there was really a situation when it was impossible to get striped trousers anywhere. Ivan Yakovlevich tried 'Leningrad Clothes', and the department store, and the Passage, and Gostiny Dvor and he had been round all the shops on the Petrograd side. He had even gone over to somewhere on Okhta but didn't find any striped trousers anywhere. And Ivan Yakovlevich's old trousers had worn so threadbare that it was gelling impossible to wear' them. Ivan Yakovlevich sewed them up several times but in the end even this didn't help any more. Ivan Yakovlevich again went round all the shops and, again not finding striped trousers anywhere, finally decided to buy checked ones. But checked trousers weren't available anywhere either. Then Ivan Yakovlevich decided to buy himself grey trousers, but he couldn't find grey ones anywhere either. Neither were black trousers in Ivan Yakovlevich's size anywhere to be found. Then Ivan Yakovlevich went off to buy blue trousers but, while he had been looking for black ones, both blue and brown ones also ran out. And so, finally, Ivan Yakovlevich just had to buy some green trousers with yellow spots. In the shop it had seemed to Ivan Yakovlevich that the trousers were not of a very bright colour and that the yellow fleck did not offend the eye at all. But, arriving home, Ivan Yakovlevich discovered that one leg was indeed of a decent shade but that the other was nothing short of turquoise and the yellow fleck positively flamed on it. Ivan Yakovlevich tried turning the trousers inside out, but that way round both legs had a propensity to assume a yellow hue embroidered with green peas and were so garish that, well, just to step out on stage in such trousers after a cinematic show would be quite sufficient: the audience would guffaw for half an hour. For two days Ivan Yakovlevich couldn't bring himself to put on his new trousers, but when his old ones got so torn that even from a distance it could be seen that Ivan Yakovlevich's underpants were in dire need of mending, there was nothing for it but to sport the new trousers. In his new trousers for the first time, Ivan Yakovlevich went out extremely cautiously. Leaving the doorway, he glanced both ways first and, having convinced himself that there was no one nearby, stepped out on to the street and swiftly strode off in the direction of his office. The first person he met was an apple seller with a big basket on his head. He said nothing on catching sight of Ivan Yakovlevich and only when Ivan Yakovlevich had walked past did he stop and, since his basket would not allow him to turn his head, the apple seller turned his whole person and followed Ivan Yakovlevich with his eyes -- and perhaps would have shaken his head if, once again, it had not been for that same basket. Ivan Yakovlevich stepped it out jauntily, considering his encounter with the fruit seller to have been a good omen. He had not seen the tradesman's manoeuvre and he reassured himself that his trousers were not as startling as all that. There now walked towards Ivan Yakovlevich an office worker of just the same type as he himself, with a briefcase under his arm. The office worker was walking briskly, not bothering to look around him, but rather keeping a close watch underfoot. Drawing level with Ivan Yakovlevich, the office worker stole a glance at Ivan Yakovlevich's trousers and stopped in his tracks. Ivan Yakovlevich stopped as well. The office worker looked at Ivan Yakovlevich, as did Ivan Yakovlevich at the office worker. -- Excuse me -- said the office worker -- you couldn't tell me how to get to the... national... exchange? -- To get there you'll have to go along this footpath ... along this footbridge... no, I mean, you'll have to go this way and then that way -- said Ivan Yakovlevich. The office worker said thank you and quickly walked away, and Ivan Yakovlevich took a few steps forward but, seeing that now towards him came not a male office worker but a female one, he lowered his head and ran across to the other side of the street. Ivan Yakovlevich arrived at the office with some delay and very bad tempered. Ivan Yakovlevich's colleagues naturally focused their attention on the green trousers with legs of varying hue but, evidently guessing that this was the cause of his ball temper, they did not trouble him with questions. Ivan Yakovlevich underwent torture for two weeks wearing his green trousers, until one of his colleagues, one Apollon Maksimovich Shilov, suggested to Ivan Yakovlevich that he should buy a pair of striped trousers from Apollon Maksimovich himself which were ostensibly surplus to Apollon Maksimovich's requirements. 1934-37 -------- A Knight Aleksey Alekseyevich Alekseyev was a real knight. So, for example, on one occasion, catching sight from a tram of a lady stumbling against a kerbstone and dropping from her bag a glass lampshade for a table-lamp, which promptly smashed, Aleksey Alekseyevich, desiring to help the lady, decided to sacrifice himself and, leaping from the tram at full speed, fell and split open the whole of his phizog on a stone. Another time, seeing a lady who was climbing over a fence catch her skirt on a nail and get stuck there, so that she could move neither backward nor forward, Aleksey Alekseyevich began to get so agitated that, in his agitation, he broke two front teeth with his tongue. In a word, Aleksey Alekseyevich was really the most chivalrous knight, and not only in relation to ladies. With unprecedented ease, Aleksey Alekseyevich could sacrifice his life for his Faith, Tsar and Motherland, as he proved in the year '14, at the start of the German war, by throwing himself, with the cry 'For the Motherland!', on to the street from a second-floor window. By some miracle, Aleksey Alekseyevich remained alive, getting off with only light injuries, and was quickly, as such an uncommonly zealous patriot, dispatched to the front. At the front, Aleksey Alekseyevich distinguished himself with his unprecedentedly elevated feelings and every time he pronounced the words 'banner', 'fanfare', or even just 'epaulettes', down his face there would trickle a tear of emotion. In the year '16, Aleksey Alekseyevich was wounded in the loins and withdrew from the front. As a first-category invalid, Aleksey Alekseyevich had no longer to serve and, profiting from the time on his hands, committed his patriotic feelings to paper. Once, chatting to Konstantin Lebedev, Aleksey Alekseyevich came out with his favourite utterance -- I have suffered for the motherland and wrecked my loins, but I exist by the strength of conviction in my posterior subconscious. -- And you're a fool! -- said Konstantin Lebedev. -- The highest service to the motherland is rendered only by a Liberal. For some reason, these words became deeply imprinted on the mind of Aleksey Alekseyevich and so, in the year '17, he was already calling himself a liberal whose loins had suffered for his native land. Aleksey Alekseyevich greeted the Revolution with delight, notwithstanding even the fact that he was deprived of his pension. For a certain time Konstantin Lebedev supplied him with cane-sugar, chocolate, preserved suet and millet groats. But when Konstantin Lebedev suddenly went missing no one knew where, Aleksey Alekseyevich had to take to the streets and ask for charity. At first, Aleksey Alekseyevich would extend his hand and say: -- Give charity, for Christ's sake, to him whose loins have suffered for the motherland. -- But this brought no success. Then Aleksey Alekseyevich changed the word 'motherland' to the word 'revolution'. But this too brought no success. Then Aleksey Alekseyevich composed a revolutionary song, and, if he saw on the street a person capable, in Aleksey Alekseyevich's opinion, of giving alms, he would take a step forward and proudly, with dignity, threw back his head and start singing: To the barricades We will all zoom! For freedom We will ourselves all maim and doom! And, jauntily tapping his heels in the Polish manner, Aleksey Alekseyevich would extend his hat and say -- Alms, please, for Christ's sake. -- This did help and Aleksey Alekseyevich rarely remained without food. Everything was going well, but then, in the year '22, Aleksey Alekseyevich got to know a certain Ivan Ivanovich Puzyryov, who dealt in Sunflower oil in the Haymarket. Puzyryov invited Aleksey Alekseyevich to a cafe, treated him to real coffee and, himself chomping fancy cakes, expounded to him some sort of complicated enterprise of which Aleksey Alekseyevich understood only that he had to do something, in return for which he would receive from Puzyryov the most costly items of nutrition. Aleksey Alekseyevich agreed and Puzyryov, on the spot, as an incentive, passed him under the table two caddies of tea and a packet of Rajah cigarettes. After this, Aleksey Alekseyevich came to see Puzyryov every morning at the market, and picking up from him some sort of papers with crooked signatures and numerous seals, took a sleigh, if it were winter and if it were summer a cart, and set off as instructed by Puzyryov, to do the rounds of various establishments where, producing the papers, he would receive some sort of boxes, which he would load on to his sleigh or cart, and in the evening take them to Puzyryov at his flat. But once, when Aleksey Alekseyevich had just rolled up in his sleigh at Puzyryov's flat, two men came up to him, one of whom was in a military great-coat, and asked him: -- Is your name Alekseyev? -- Then Aleksey Alekseyevich was put into an automobile and taken away to prison. At the interrogation, Aleksey Alekseyevich understood not a thing and just kept saying that he had suffered for his revolutionary motherland. But, despite this, he was sentenced to ten years of exile in his motherland's northern parts. Having got back in the year '28 to Leningrad, Aleksey Alekseyevich began to ply his previous trade and, standing up on the corner of Volodarskiy, tossed back his head with dignity, tapped his heel and sang out: To the barricades We will all zoom! For freedom We will ourselves all maim and doom! But he did not even manage to sing it through twice before he was taken away in a covered vehicle to somewhere in the direction of the Admiralty. His feet never touched the ground. And there we have a short narrative of the life of the valiant knight and patriot, Aleksey Alekseyevich Alekseyev. 1934-36 -------- A Story Abram Demyanovich Pentopasov cried out loudly and pressed a handkerchief to his eyes. But it was too late. Ash and soft dust had gummed up Abram Demyanovich's eyes. From then on Abram Demyanovich's eyes began to hurt, they were gradually covered over with repulsive scabs, and Abram Demyanovich went blind. As a blind invalid, Abram Demyanovich was given the push from his job and accorded a wretched pittance of thirty-six roubles a month. Quite clearly this sum was insufficient for Abram Demyanovich to live on. A kilo of bread cost a rouble and ten kopecks, and a leek cost forty-eight kopecks at the market. And so the industrial invalid began more and more to concentrate his attention on rubbish bins. It was difficult for a blind man to find the edible scraps among all the peelings and filth. Even finding the rubbish itself in someone else's yard is not easy. you can't see it with your eyes, and to ask -- Whereabouts here is your rubbish bin? -- is somehow a bit awkward. The only way left is to sniff it out. Some rubbish bins reek so much you can smell them a mile away, but others with lids are absolutely impossible to detect. It's all right if you happen upon a kindly caretaker, but the other sort would so put the wind up you that you'd lose your appetite. Once Abram Demyanovich climbed into someone's rubbish bin and when he was in there a rat bit him, and he climbed straight back out again. So that day he didn't eat anything. But then one morning something jumped out of Abram Demyanovich's right eye. Abram Demyanovich rubbed the eye and suddenly saw daylight. And then something jumped out of his left eye, too, and Abram Demyanovich saw the light. From that day on it was all downhill for Abram Demyanovich. Everywhere Abram Demyanovich was in great demand. In the People's Committee for Heavy Industry office Abram Demyanovich was a minor sensation. And so Abram Demyanovich became a great man. 1935 -------- An Unexpected Drinking Bout Once Antonina Alekseyevna struck her husband with her office stamp and imprinted his forehead with stamp-pad ink. The mortally offended Pyotr Leonidovich, Antonina Alekseyevna's husband, locked himself in the bathroom and wouldn't let anyone in. However, the residents of the communal flat, having a strong need to get in to where Pyotr Leonidovich was sitting, decided to break down the locked door by force. Seeing that the game was up, Pyotr Leonidovich came out of the bathroom and, going back into his own flat, lay down on the bed. But Antonina Alekseyevna decided to persecute her husband to the limit. She tore up little bits of paper and showered them on to Pyotr Leonidovich who was lying on the bed. The infuriated Pyotr Leonidovich leaped out into the corridor and set about tearing the wallpaper. At this point all the residents ran out and, seeing what the hapless Pyotr Leonidovich was doing, they threw themselves on to him and ripped the waistcoat that he was wearing. Pyotr Leonidovich ran off to the porter's office. During this time, Antonina Alekseyevna had stripped naked and had hidden in the trunk. Ten minutes later Pyotr Leonidovich returned, followed by the house manager. Not finding his wife in the room, Pyotr Leonidovich with the house manager decided to take advantage of the empty premises in order to down some vodka. Pyotr Leonidovich undertook to run off to the corner for the said beverage. When Pyotr Leonidovich had gone out, Antonina Alekseyevna climbed out of the trunk and appeared before the house manager in a state of nakedness. The shaken house manager leaped from his chair and rushed up to the window, but, seeing the muscular build of the young twenty-six-year-old woman, he suddenly gave way to wild rapture. At this point Pyotr Leonidovich returned witty a litre of vodka. Catching sight of what was afoot in his room, Pyotr Leonidovich knitted his brows. But his spouse Antonina Alekseyevna showed him her office stamp and Pyotr Leonidovich calmed down. Antonina Alekseyevna expressed a desire to participate in the drinking session, but strictly on condition that she maintain her naked state and, to boot, that she sit on the table on which it was proposed to set out the snacks to accompany the vodka. The men sat down on chairs, Antonina Alekseyevna sat on the table and the drinking commenced. It cannot be called hygienic if a naked young woman is sitting on the very table at which people are eating. Moreover Antonina Alekseyevna was a woman of a rather plump build and not all that particular about her bodily cleanliness, so it was a pretty devilish state of affairs. Soon, however, they had all drunk themselves into a stupor and fallen asleep: the men on the floor and Antonina Alekseyevna on the table. And silence was established in the communal flat. 1935 -------- Theme for a Story A certain engineer has made up his mind to build a huge brick wall across Petersburg. He considers how to accomplish this, doesn't sleep for nights cogitating it. Gradually a group of engineering planners is formed and a plan for the construction of the wall is elaborated. It was decided to build the wall at night, indeed, to build the whole thing in one night, so that it would appear as a surprise to everyone. Workers are summoned. The organisation is under way. The city authorities are sidelined and finally the night arrives when this wall is to be built. The building of the wall is known only to four men. The workers and engineers receive exact instructions as to whom to place where and what to do. Thanks to exact calculation, they succeed in putting up the wall in a single night. On the following day there is consternation in Petersburg. And the inventor of the wall is himself dejected. To what use this wall was to be put, he himself did not know. 1935 -------- <There Once Was a Man...> There once was a man whose name was Kuznetsov. He left his house to go to a shop to buy some carpenter's glue so as to stick a stool. When Kuznetsov was walking past an unfinished house, a brick fell off the top and hit Kuznetsov on the head. Kuznetsov fell, but straight away jumped to his feet and felt over his head. On Kuznetsov's head a huge lump had come up. Kuznetsov gave the lump a rub and said: -- I, citizen Kuznetsov, left the house to go to the shop to... to... to... Oh, what on earth's happened? I've forgotten why I was going to the shop! At this point a second brick fell off the roof and again Kuznetsov was struck on the head. -- Akh! -- cried Kuznetsov, clutching at his head and feeling a second lump on his head. -- A likely story! -- said Kuznetsov. -- I, citizen Kuznetsov, left the house to go to... to go to... to go to... where was I going! Then a third brick fell from the top on to Kuznetsov's head. And on Kuznetsov's head a third lump came up. -- Oh heck! -- yelled out Kuznetsov, snatching at his head. -- I, citizen Kuznetsov, left the... left the... Left the cellar? No. Left the boozer? Nol Where did I leave? A fourth brick fell from the roof, hit Kuznetsov on the back of the head and a fourth lump came up on Kuznetsov. -- Well, now then! -- said Kuznetsov, scratching the back of his head. -- I... I... I... Who am I ? I seem to have forgotten what my name is ... A likely story! Whatever's my name? Vasily Petukhov? No. Nikolay Sapogov? No. Panteley Rysakov? No. Well, who the hell am I? But then a fifth brick fell off the roof and so struck Kuznetsov on the back of the head that Kuznetsov forgot everything once and for all and, crying 'Oh, oh, oh!', ran off down the street. If you wouldn't mind! If anyone should meet a man in the street with five lumps on his head, please remind him that his name is Kuznetsov and that he has to buy some carpenter's glue and repair a broken stool. 1935 -------- Father and Daughter Natasha had two sweets. Then she ate one of the sweets and one sweet remained. Natasha placed the sweet on the table in front of her and started crying. Suddenly she has a look and on the table in front of her there lie two sweets again. Natasha ate one sweet and again started crying. Natasha cries and keeps one eye on the table to see whether a second sweet will appear. But a second sweet did not appear. Natasha stopped crying and started to sing. she sang and sang away, and suddenly died. Natasha's Dad arrived, took Natasha and carried her to the house manager. -- Here -- says Natasha's Dad -- will you witness the death? The house manager blew on his stamp and applied it to Natasha's forehead. -- Thank you -- said Natasha's Dad and carried Natasha off to the cemetery. But at the cemetery was the watchman Matvei; he always sat by the gate and didn't let anyone into the cemetery, so that the dead had to be buried right on the street. Dad buried Natasha on the street, removed his cap, placed it on the spot where he had interred Natasha and went off home. He arrived home and Natasha was already sitting there. How come? It's very simple: she climbed out from under the earth and ran back home. What a thing! Dad was so taken aback that he collapsed and died. Natasha called the house manager, saying to him: -- Will you witness a death? The house manager blew on his stamp and applied it to a sheet of paper and then on the same sheet of paper he wrote: 'This certifies that so and so has actually died.' Natasha took the piece of paper and carried it off to the cemetery for burial. But the watchman Matvei tells Natasha: -- I'm not letting you in on any account. Natasha says: -- I just want to bury this piece of palmer. And the watchman says: -- Don't even ask. Natasha interred the piece of paper on the street, placed her socks on the spot where she had interred the piece of paper and went off home. She gets home and Dad is already sitting there at home and is already playing against himself on a miniature billiard table with little metal balls. Natasha was surprised but said nothing and went off to her room to grow up. She grew and grew and within four years she had become a grown-up young lady. But Natasha's Dad had become aged and bent. But they will both remember how they had taken each other for dead and so they will fall on the divan and just laugh. Another time they laugh for about twenty minutes. And their neighbours, as soon as they hear this laughter, immediately put on their coats and go off to the cinema. And one day they went off like that and never came back again. Seemingly, they were run over by a car. 1936 -------- The Fate of a Professor's Wife Once a certain professor ate something which didn't agree with him and he began to vomit. His wife came up to him, saying: -- What is it? But the professor replied: -- It's nothing. -- His wife retreated again. The professor reclined on the divan, had a little lie down, felt rested and went off to work. At work there was a surprise for him: his salary had been docked; instead of 650 roubles, he only had 500. The professor ran hither and thither -- but to no avail. The professor went to the Director, and the Director threw hills out. The professor went to the accountant, and the accountant said: -- Apply to the Director. -- The professor got on a train and went off to Moscow. On the way he suddenly went down with flu. He arrived in Moscow and couldn't get out on to the platform. They put the professor on a stretcher and carried him off to hospital. The professor lay in hospital no more than four days and then died. The professor's body was cremated, the ashes were placed in an urn and sent off to his wife. So the professor's wife was sitting drinking coffee. Suddenly a ring. What's that? -- A parcel for you. The professor's wife was really pleased; smiling all over her face, she thrust a tip into the postman's hand and was soon unwrapping the parcel. She looked in the parcel and saw an urn of ashes, with a message: 'Herewith all that remains of your spouse.' The professor's wife didn't understand a thing; she shook the urn, held it up to the light, read the message six times -- finally she worked out what was afoot and was terribly upset. The professor's wife was very upset, cried for three hours and then went off to inter the urn of ashes. She wrapped the urn in a newspaper and took it to the First Five-Year Plan Garden, formerly the Tavricheskiy. The professor's wife chose the most out-of-the-way path and was just intending to bury the urn, when suddenly a watchman came along. -- Hey! -- shouted the watchman. -- What are you doing here? -- The professor's wife was frightened and said: -- I just wanted to catch some frogs in this jar. -- Well -- said the watchman -- that's all right, only watch it, and keep off the grass. When the watchman had gone, the professor's wife buried the urn, trod the earth down around it and went off for a stroll round the gardens. In the gardens, she was accosted by some sailor -- Come on, let's go for a little sleep -- he said. She replied: -- Why should one sleep in the daytime? -- But he stuck to his guns: sleep and more sleep. And the professor's wife really did feel like sleeping. She walked along the streets and she felt sleepy. People were running all around her in blue, or in green -- and she just felt sleepy. So she walked and slept. And she dreamed that Lev Tolstoy was coming towards her, holding a chamber-pot in his hands. She asked him: -- What's that, then? -- and he pointed to the chamber-pot, saying: -- Here, I've really done something and now I'm taking it to show the whole world. Let everyone see it -- he said. The professor's wife also had a look and saw that it seemed no longer to be Tolstoy, but a shed, and in the shed was a hen. The professor's wife tried to catch the hen, but the hen hid under a divan, from which it looked out, now in the form of a rabbit. The professor's wife crawled under the divan after the rabbit and woke up. She woke and looked around: she really was lying under a divan. The professor's wife crawled out from under the divan -- and saw her own room. And there stood the table with her undrunk coffee. On the table lay the message -- Herewith all that remains of your spouse. The professor's wife shed a few more tears and sat down to drink up her cold coffee. Suddenly a ring. What's that? Some people walk in and say -- Let's go. -- Where? -- asked the professor's wife. -- To the lunatic asylum -- they reply. The professor's wife began to shout and to dig in her heels, but the people grabbed her and took her off to the lunatic asylum. And there, on a bunk in a lunatic asylum, sits a completely normal professor's wife, holding a fishing rod and fishing on the floor for some invisible fish or other. This professor's wife is merely a pitiful example of how many unfortunates there are in life who do not occupy in life the position that they ought to occupy. 1936 -------- The Cashier Masha found a mushroom, picked it and took it to the market. At the market, Masha was hit about the head, and there were further promises that she could be hit about the legs as well. Masha took fright and ran off. Masha ran to the co-operative store and wanted to hide there behind the cash desk. But the manager caught sight of Mashes and said: -- What's that you've got in your hands? And Masha said: -- A mushroom. The manager said: -- Why, you're a fine one, now! How would you like me to fix you up with a job? -- Oh, you won't fix me up -- said Masha. -- I'll fix you up here and now! -- said the manager. And he fixed Masha up with a job, turning the handle on the cash till. Masha turned and turned away on the handle on the cash till and suddenly died. The police arrived, drew up a report, and ordered the manager to pay a fine of fifteen roubles. -- What's the fine for? -- asked the manager. -- For murder -- replied the police. The manager took fright, hastily paid the fine and said: -- All right, only take this dead cashier out of here straight away. At this point the sales assistant from the fruit section said: -- No, wait a minute, you've got it wrong, she wasn't the cashier. She only turned the handle on the cash till. That's the cashier sitting there. -- It's all the same to us -- said the police -- we've been told to take a cashier out of here, so we'll take one out. The police started towards the cashier. The cashier thereupon lay down on the floor behind the cash desk and said: -- I won't go. -- Why won't you go, you silly woman? -- said the police. -- You're going to bury me alive -- said the cashier. The police started to try and lift the cashier up from the floor, but try as they might, they couldn't lift her, as she was extremely stout. -- Grab her by the legs -- said the sales assistant from the fruit section. -- No -- said the manager -- this cashier acts as my wife. I must therefore ask you not to expose her from the rear end. -- Do you hear? -- said the cashier -- don't you dare expose me from the rear end. The police look hold of the cashier under the arms and dragged and heaved her out of the co-operative store. The manager ordered the sales assistants to tidy up the store and get business under way. --- But what are we going to do with this dead woman? -- said the sales assistant from the fruit section, pointing at Masha. -- Good gracious me -- said the manager -- we've made a mess of the whole thing! Well, what in fact are we going to do with the dead woman? -- And who's going to sit at the cash till? -- asked the sales assistant. The manager clutched his head with both hands. He sent apples scattering along the counter with his knee and said: -- What's happened is monstrous! -- Monstrous! -- echoed the sales assistants in chorus. Suddenly the manager scratched his moustache and said: -- Ha, ha, I'm not so easily nonplussed. We'll seat the dead woman behind the till, and perhaps the public won't realise who's sitting there. They seated the dead woman at the cash desk, stuck a cigarette between her teeth to give her a greater resemblance to the living, and for additional verisimilitude gave her the mushroom to hold in her hands. The dead woman sat there looking quite alive, except that her facial colouring was very green, and one eye was open, while the other was completely closed. -- Never mind -- said the manager -- she'll do. And the public was already knocking at the doors, highly agitated that the shop had not been opened. In particular, one matriarchal figure in a silk coat was shouting her head off: she was shaking her purse and aiming a back heel kick at the door-handle. And behind the matriarchal figure some old woman with a pillowcase on her head was shouting and swearing, calling the manager of the co-operative store a stingy old swine. The manager opened the doors and admitted the public. The public charged straight to the meat section, and then to where the sugar and pepper were sold. But the old woman made straight for the fish section, and on the way glanced at the cashier and stopped. -- Good Lord -- she said -- Holy goats! And the matriarchal figure in the silk coat had already been round every section, and was rushing to the cash desk. But no sooner had she glimpsed the cashier then she stopped dead, stood in silence and just looked. And the sales assistants also stayed silent anal looked at the manager. And the manager peered out from behind the counter, waiting to see what would happen next. The matriarchal figure in the silk coat turned to the sales assistants and said: -- Who's that you've got sitting behind the cash till? And the sales assistants stayed silent, as they didn't know what to say. The manager also stayed silent. At this point people came running from all sides. Already there was a crowd on the street. Caretakers from nearby houses appeared on the scene. Whistles were heard blowing. In a word, an absolute scandal. The crowd was prepared to stand there outside the store until evening at least. But someone said that old women were plummeting out of a window on Ozerny Pereulok. Then the crowd outside the store thinned out, because a lot of people went over to Ozerny Pereulok. 1936 -------- The Memoirs of a Wise Old Man I used to be a very wise old man. Now I am not quite right; you may consider me even not to exist at all. But the time was when any one of you would have come to me and, whatever burden may have oppressed a person, whatever sins may have tormented his thoughts, I would have embraced him and said: -- My son, take comfort, for no burden is oppressing you and I see no bodily sins in you -- and he would scamper away from me in happiness and joy. I was great and strong. People who met me on the street would shy to one side and I would pass through a crowd like a flat iron. My feet would often be kissed, but I didn't protest: I knew I deserved it. why deprive people of the pleasure of honouring me? I myself, being extraordinarily lithe of body, even tried to kiss myself on my own foot. I sat on a bench, got hold of my right foot and pulled it up to my face. I managed to kiss the big toe. I was happy. I understood the happiness of others. Everyone worshipped me! And not only people, but even beasts, while even various insects crawled before me and wagged their tails. And cats! They simply adored me and, somehow or other gripping each other's paws, would run in front of me whenever I was on the staircase. At that time I was indeed very wise and understood everything. There was not a thing that would nonplus me. Just a minute's exertion of my colossal mind and the most complicated question would be resolved in the simplest possible manner. I was even taken to the Brain Institute and shown off to the learned professors. They measured my mind by electricity and simply boggled. -- We have never seen anything like it -- they said. I was married but rarely saw my wife. She was afraid of me: the enormity of my mind overwhelmed her. She did not so much live, as tremble; and if I as much as looked at her, she would begin to hiccup. We lived together for a long time, but then I think she disappeared somewhere. I don't remember exactly. Memory -- that's a strange thing altogether. How hard remembering is, and how easy forgetting That's how it often is: you memorise one thing, and then remember something entirely different. Or: you memorise something with some difficulty, but very thoroughly, and then you can't remember anything. That also happens. I would advise everyone to work a bit on their memory. I always believed in fair play and never beat anyone for no reason, because, when you are beating someone, you always go a bit daft and you might overdo it. Children, for example, should never be beaten with a knife or with anything made of iron, but women -- the opposite: they shouldn't be kicked. Animals -- they, it is said, have more endurance. But I have carried out experiments in this line and I know that this is not always the case. Thanks to my litheness, I was able to do things which no one else could do. For example, I managed to retrieve by hand from an extremely sinuous sewage pipe my brother's earring, which had accidently fallen there. I could, for example, hide in a comparatively small basket and put the lid on myself. Yes, certainly, I was phenomenal! My brother was my complete opposite: in the first place, he was taller and, secondly, more stupid. He and I were never very friendly. Although, however, we were friendly, even very. I've got something wrong here: to be exact, he and I were not friendly and were always on bad terms. And this is how we got crossed. I was standing beside a shop: they were issuing sugar there, and I was standing in the queue, trying not to listen to what was being said around me. I had slight toothache and was not in the greatest of moods. It was very cold outside, because everyone was standing in quilted fur coats and they were still freezing. I was also standing in a quilted fur, but I was not freezing myself, though my hands were freezing because I had to keep taking them out of my pockets to adjust the suitcase I was holding between my knees, so that it didn't go missing. Suddenly someone struck me on the back. I flew into a state of indescribable indignation and, quick as lightning, began to consider how to punish the offender. During this time, I was struck a second time on the back. I pricked up my ears, but decided against turning my head and pretended that I hadn't noticed. I just, to be on the safe side, took the suitcase in my hand. Seven minutes passed and I was struck on the back a third time. At this I turned round and saw in front of me a tall middle-aged man in a rather shabby, but still quite good, military fur coat. -- What do you want from me? -- I asked him in strict and even slightly metallic voice. -- And you, why don't you turn when you're called? -- he said. I had begun to think over the content of his words when he again opened his mouth and said: -- What's wrong with you? Don't you recognise me or something? I'm your brother. I again began to think over his words when he again opened his mouth and said: -- Just listen, brother mine. I'm four roubles short for the sugar and it's a nuisance to have to leave the queue. Lend me five and I'll settle up with you later. -- I started to ponder why my brother should be four roubles short, but he grabbed hold of my sleeve and said: -- Well, so then, are you going to lend your own brother some money? -- and with these words he undid my quilted fur for me himself, got into my inside pocket and reached my purse. -- Here we are -- he said. -- I'm taking a loan of a certain sum, and your purse, look, here it is, I'm putting back in your coat. -- And he shoved my purse into the outer pocket of my fur. I was of course surprised at meeting my brother so unexpectedly. For a while I was silent, and then I asked him: -- But where have you been until now? -- There -- replied my brother, waving in some direction or other. I started thinking over where this 'there' might be, but my brother nudged me in the side and said: -- Look, they've started letting us in to the shop. We went together as far as the shop doors, but inside the shop I proved to be on my own, without my brother. Just for a moment, I jumped out of the queue and looked through the door on to the street. But there was no sign of my brother. When I again wanted to take my place in the queue, they wouldn't let me in and even pushed me gradually out on to the street. Holding back my anger at such bad manners, I went off home. At home I discovered that my brother had taken all the money from my purse. At this stage I got absolutely furious with my brother, and since th