'What's all this about a fire, then ? What fire? Come on, gentlemen, move along, will you! I'm asking you politely!'
'Must be a fire indoors!'
'Politely, he says, and then starts barging about. Stop swinging your arms around! You may be head constable, but no one's given you a perfect right to make free with your fists!'
'Ow, you've trodden on my corn! May you choke, damn you!'
'Choke? Who's choking? Lads, someone's been crushed!' 'Why's this crowd hcre.} Wh.n's all this in aid of?'
'Someone's becn crushcd, vcronncr!'
'Where? D-is-perse! I'm asking you all politely - you too, hlm k- head!'
'You can shove the peasams, but don't you darc touc-h a pcmlf- man! Keep your hands off!'
'Call yourselves people? You could talk nicely to this lot ull you were blue in the face! Sidorov, go and fetch A kim Danilych! At the double! It'll be worse for you now, gcntlemen! Once A kim Damlych comes you'll bi- for it! What, you here too, Parfen?!A blind holy man here too! He's as blind as a hat, hut he has to go along and resist the law jiist like other people! Smirnov, take Parfen's name!'
'Yessir! Am I to putdown Purov's men as well, sir? Him over there wnh the swollen cheek - he's one of Purov's!'
'No, don't put Purov's men down yet ... It's Purov's samt's-day party tomorrow!'
The starlings rose in a dark cloucl above Father Kantiklin's orch.ird, but Skrahhitch and Optimov did not even notice them; they were too busy gazing into the air and tryirg to work out why such a big crowd had gathered and what it was staring at. Then Akim Danilych came round the corner. Still chewing something and wip- ing his lips, he gave a sudden bellow and dived into the crowd.
'Firemen, stand by! Crrrowd, d-is-perse! Mr Optimov, disperse yourself please or it'll be the worse for you. Instead of writmg all these criticisms of decent people for the papers, you should try behaving a bit more substantially yourself! The papers never improved anyone!'
'I'll thank you to leave the public press out of it!' flared up Optimov. 'I am a professional writer, and I will notallowyou tocast aspersions on the press - even if I do consider it my duty as a citizen to respect you as a father and benefactor!'
'Firemen, turn on the hose!'
'There's no water, yeronner!'
'Stop answering hack! Go and get some! At-the-double!'
'Nothing to go on, your honour. The major's taken the brigade horses to drive his auntie to the station !'
'Disperse, will you! Move back, damn the lot of you . . . You deaf? Right, take the blighter's name for him!'
'I've lost my pencil, yeronner . . .'
The crowd was growing bigger and bigger . . . Goodness knows what proponions it would have reached, had not someone in Sleez- kin's tavern chosen this moment to try out the new mechanical organ that had recently arrived from Moscow. Hearing the most popular tune of the day, the crowd gave an 'Aah !' and piled into the tavern. Thus nobody ever did discover why the crowd had gathered, and Optimov and Skrabbitch had long forgonen all about the starlings who were the real cause of the incident. An hour later, the town was absolutely still and quiet again, and only a single solitary hu!Tlan being could be seen - the fireman walking round and round the top of his watch-tower . . .
That evening, Akim Danilych sat in Fertikulin's grocery shop sipping fizzy lemonade laced with brandy, and wrote: 'In addition to my official communication, I venture, Your Excellency, to append some supplementary remarks of my own. My Father and Benefactor! Verily it could only have been through the prayers of your most virtuous spouse residing in her salubrious datcha close by our town that we were saved from disaster! I cannot begin to describe all that I have been through this day. The efficiency displayed by Krushensky and Major Portepeeyeff of the fire brigade beggars all description. I glory in these worthy servants of our fatherland! As for myself, I did all that a frail man can whose sole desire is the well-being of his neighbour, and now that I am sitting in the bosom of my family, I offer up thanks with tears in my eyes to Him Who spared us bloodshed. In the absence of evidence, the guilty parties are at the moment under lock and key, but I propose to release them in a week or so. It was their ignorance that led them astray!'
The Complaints Book
It lies, this book, in a special little desk inside the railway station. To get at it you have to 'Apply to the Station Policeman for Key' — but it's all nonsense about the key, since the desk is always unlocked. Open the book and you will read:
'Dear Sir! Just testing the pen?!'
Below this is a funny face with a long nose and horns. Underneath it says:
'I'm a picture, you're a blot, you're a pig, I'm not. I am your ugly mug.'
'Approaching this station and admiring the seenery, my hat blue off. I. Harmonkin.'
'I know not who it was that writ, but him that reads it is a twit.'
'Fobbemoff, Head of Small Claims Office, was here.'
'I wish to register a complaint against Ticket-Collector Krumpkin for rudeness with respect to my wife. My wife wasn't kicking up a row but on the contrary was trying to keep it all as quiet as possible. Also against Constable Kuffkin for Grabbing me by the shoulder. My place of residence is the estate of Andrey Ivanovich Snoopin who knows my mode of behaviour. Paragonsky, estate clerk.'
'Nikandroff's a Socialist!'
'Whilst the impression of this disgraceful incident is still fresh — (crossed out). Passing through this station I was shocked to the depths of my being by the following - (crossed out). I witnessed with my own eyes the following disgraceful occurrence, vividly illustrat- ing the state of affairs pertaining on our railways - (everything else crossed out, except for the signature-) Ivan Svot, Upper Sixth Form, Kursk Grammar School.'
'While awaiting the departure of the train I studied the station- master's physiognomy and was not at all pleased by what I saw. Am passing this information along the line. An undespairing nine-to- fiver.'
'I know who wrote that. It was M.D.'
'Gentlemen! Teltsovsky's a card-sharp!'
'The station policeman's wife took a trip over the river with Kost- ka the barman yesterday. Good luck to them! Chin up, constable!' 'Passing through this station and requiring sustenance in the form of something to eat I was unable to obtain any lenten fare. Deacon Cheruboff.'
'Stuff in what they've got, mate!' ...
'Will anyone finding a leather cigar-case kindly hand it in to Andrey Yegorych at the ticket office.'
'Right, if you'resackingme because you say I getdrunk, I'm telling everyone you're a load of dirty rogues and swindlers. Koz- modemyansky, telegraph-operator.'
'Rejoice in good deeds.'
'Katinka, I love you madly!'
'Please refrain from making irrelevant entries in this complaints book. B.A.Ivanoff (pp. Station-master).'
'B.F.Ivanoff, more like.'
The Chameleon
Across the market square comes Police Inspector Moronoff. He is wearing a new greatcoat and carrying a small package. Behind him strides a ginger-headed constable bearing a sieve filled to the brim with confiscated gooseberries. There is silence all around ... Not a soul in the square . .. The wide-open doors of the shops and taverns look out dolefully on the world, like hungry jaws; even their beggars have vanished.
'Bite me, would you, you little devil?' Moronoff suddenly hears. 'Catch him, lads, catch him! Biting's against the law now! Grab him! Ouch!'
A dog squeals. Moronoff looks round - and sees a dog run out of merchant Spatchkin's woodyard, hopping along on three legs and glancing backwards. A man in a starched calico shirt and unbut- toned waistcoat comes chasing out after it. He runs behind, bends down rightover it, and tumbles to the ground catching the dog by the hind legs. There is another squeal and a shout: 'Hold him, lads!' Sleepy countenances thrust themselves out of the shop windows and soon a crowd has sprung up from nowhere by the woodyard.