Part Two. Two Con Artists

Chapter Ten

For some time now, the underground millionaire has felt someone’s watchful attention on him. At first, there was nothing specific. Only the familiar and tranquil feeling of loneliness disappeared. Then, signs of a more frightening nature began to emerge.

Once, as Koreyko was walking to work at his usual measured pace, right near the…HERCULESHe was stopped by a brazen beggar with a golden tooth. Stepping on the dragging strings of his trousers, the beggar grabbed Alexander Ivanovich by the hand and quickly mumbled:

– Give me a million, give me a million, give me a million!

After that, the beggar stuck out his thick, filthy tongue and started to babble complete nonsense. It was an ordinary…beggar-halfwit, which are often found in southern cities. Nevertheless, Koreiko went up to his office, with a troubled heart.

It all started with that meeting.

At three in the morning, Alexander Ivanovich was awakened. A telegram had arrived. Chattering his teeth from the morning chill, the millionaire tore open the package and read:

“The countess with a changed face is running to the pond.”

– Which countess? – Koriyko whispered in shock, standing barefoot in the hallway.

But no one answered him. The postman left. In the courtyard garden, the pigeons were passionately cooing. The residents were asleep. Alexander Ivanovich turned the gray form over in his hands. The addresswas.Correct. The surname is too. The Little Tangent to Alexander Koreiko “the countess
with a changed face is running to the pond.”

Alexander Ivanovich didn’t understand anything, but he was so agitated that he burned the telegram in a candle flame.

В.17 hours 35 minutes.On the same day, a second dispatch arrived:

“The meeting continues, a million kisses.”

Alexander Ivanovich turned pale with anger and tore the telegram into pieces. But that very night, two more urgent telegrams arrived:

“Load the oranges into the barrels, brothers.”KaramazovIt seems that there is no text provided for translation. Please provide the text you would like me to translate.

And the second one:

The text for translation: «.ice.“I’ll be the one to call the shots.”

After that, an unfortunate incident occurred at work with Alexander Ivanovich. While multiplying in his head at the request of Chevazhevskaya…285 divided by 13He made a mistake and gave the wrong result, which has never happened to him in his life.it happenedBut right now, he wasn’t in the mood for arithmetic exercises. The crazy telegrams wouldn’t leave his mind.

– In the barrels, – he whispered, fixing his gaze on the old man Kukuškin., – brothersThe Karamazovs. It’s just disgusting.

He tried to calm himself with the thought that it was just some friendly jokes, but he quickly had to dismiss that idea. He had no friends. As for his colleagues, they were serious people who only joked once in a while.year.– on April first. And on that day of fun and joyful pranks, they only played one sad joke:printedA fake dismissal order was typed up and placed on the old man’s desk. And every time, for seven years, the old man would clutch his heart, which amused everyone greatly. Besides, they weren’t exactly wealthy enough to spend money on telegrams.

After the telegram in which an unknown citizen announced that he would be the one in charge of the parade, and not anyone else, a sense of calm settled in. Alexander Ivanovich was not disturbed for three days. He was starting to get used to the idea that everything that had happened did not concern him at all when a thick registered parcel arrived. Inside was a book titled “Capitalist Sharks” with the subtitle:Biographies“American millionaires.”

At another time, Koreyko would have bought such an interesting little book himself, but now he even grimaced in horror. The first sentencelittle bookswas outlined in blue pencil and read:

“All major modern fortunes”in America“acquired in the most dishonorable way.”

Alexander Ivanovich decided, just in case, not to visit the train station for the cherished suitcase for the time being. He was in quite a troubled state of mind.

– The most important thing, – Ostap said, strolling through the spacious room of the “Karlsbad” hotel, – is to create confusion in the enemy’s camp. The enemy must lose their mental balance. It’s not that difficult to achieve. After all, people are most afraid of the unknown. I myself was once a solitary mystic and reached a point where I could be frightened by a simple Finnish…with a knifeYes, yes. The more unclear, the better.
I am convinced that my last telegram…Mentally“Together” made a tremendous impression on our partner. All of this is superphosphate, a fertilizer. Let him worry. The client needs to be accustomed to the idea that he will have to part with his money. He needs to be morally disarmed, to suppress his reactionary possessive instincts.

After delivering his speech, Bender looked sternly at his subordinates. Balaganov, Panikovsky, and Kozlevich sat upright in their red plush armchairs with fringes and tassels. They felt embarrassed. The extravagant lifestyle made them uneasy.commander
and engraving“The Appearance of Christ to the People.” They themselves, along with…Antelopestopped at an inn and came tothe hotel forreceiving instructions.

– Panikovsky, – said Ostap, – you were assigned to meet with our client today and again…to askHe has a million, accompanying this request with an idiotic laugh.Well?

– As soon as he saw me, he crossed to the opposite sidewalk, – Panikovsky replied smugly.

– So. Everything is going as it should. The client is starting to get nervous. Now he is moving from dull confusion to irrational fear. I have no doubt that he jumps out of bed at night and whimpers, “Mom, Mom.”!“Just a little more, the silliest thing, the final stroke of the brush – and it will finally be ready. With tears, he will crawl to the buffet and take out a small plate with a blue rim…”

Ostap winked at Balaganov.Текст для перевода: ..Balaganov winked at Panikovsky.;Panikovsky winked at Kozlevich, and although the honest Kozlevich understood absolutely nothing,but.He also started to blink with both eyes. And for a long time in the room of the “Karlsbad” hotel, there was a friendly exchange of glances, accompanied by laughter, tongue-clicking, and even jumping up from the red plush chairs.

–.Leave it.“Fun,” said Ostap. “For now, the little plate with money is in Koreiko’s hands, if it even exists at all, this magical plate.”

Then Bender sent Panikovsky and Kozlevich to the inn, instructing them to keep…Antelopeon standby.

“Well, Shura,” he said, remaining alone with Balaganov, “we don’t need any more telegrams. The preparatory work can be considered complete. The active struggle is about to begin. Now we’re going to take a look at the precious one.”lambin the performance of his official duties.

Staying in the transparent shade of the acacias, the milk brothers passed through the city garden, where a thick stream of the fountain flowed like a candle, they passed several mirrored beer bars and stopped at the corner of Meringa Street. Flower sellers with red sailor-like faces bathed their delicate goods in enameled bowls. The sun-heated asphalt hissed underfoot. Citizens emerged from the blue tiled dairy, wiping their kefir-stained lips as they walked.

Thick pasta letters of wooden gold that formed the word
HERCULES, enticingly glowing. The sun danced on the polished glass
of the revolving door. Ostap and Balaganov entered the lobby and blended in with the crowd
of business people.

Chapter Eleven

On all four floors of the former hotel, there was a flurry of activity. But no matter how hard the frequently changing managers tried to drive the hotel spirit out of HERCULES, they never succeeded.

No matter how the caretakers tried to cover up the old inscriptions, they still peeked out from everywhere. Sometimes the word “Cabinets” would pop up in the trading department, or suddenly watermarks saying “On Duty Maid” would be noticed on the frosted glass door of the machine bureau, and there were even drawn pointing fingers on the walls with the French text “Pour les dames.” The hotel was bursting at the seams. The smaller staff worked in the budget rooms on the fourth floor, where thrifty priests used to stay during diocesan congresses, or little traveling salesmen with mustaches. It still smelled of candles there, and pink iron washbasins were set up. In the cleaner rooms, where billiard kings and provincial dramatic artists checked in, section heads, their assistants, and the caretaker were accommodated. It was already better here: there were wardrobes with mirrors, and the floor was covered with orange linoleum. In the luxurious rooms with bathtubs and alcoves, the management resided. In the white bathtubs lay various documents, while in the dimly lit alcoves hung diagrams and charts that visually depicted the structure of HERCULES and its connection to the periphery. Here, silly gilded sofas, carpets, and nightstands with marble tops were preserved. In some alcoves, there were even armored nickel-plated beds with round finials. Documents and all sorts of necessary correspondence were also lying on them. This was extremely convenient, as the papers were always at hand.

In one of those rooms, in room five, stayedsomehowThe famous writer Leonid Andreyev. Everyone in the Hercules community knew this, and the number…the fifth usedin the institution of ill repute. With all the responsible employees who set up their offices here, some kind of trouble was bound to happen. As soon as number five got properly acquainted with the situation, he was already removed and thrown out.bottomwork. It would be good if it were without a reprimand.!Sometimes it happened with a reprimand, sometimes it did.и.With the publication in print, it has sometimes been worse, and it’s even unpleasant to mention.

– Demonicnumber!– They all claimed in unison. – Who could have suspected?

And the writer, the author of the terrifying “Tale of the Seven Hanged,” was hit with the most dreadful accusations, as if it were he who…the creator of the famous play “The Days of Our Lives,” wasshould be in thatтов..Lapshin took six of his own brothers, the heroes, into his service, whichThe text for translation: goods..Spravchenko in wood preparation.Vines.He relied on things taking their own course, and that’s how he messed up, and what.The text for translation: тов..Indochina lost in“sixty-six”7384 rubles and 03 kopecks of state funds. No matter how much he tried to argue in the relevant authorities that he spent the 03 kopecks for a good cause…to the stateand what supporting documents he can provide for the specified amount
.–.Nothing helped him. The shadow of the deceased writer was relentless, and on an autumn evening in Indochina, he was taken away to serve his sentence. Indeed, that fifth number was quite unpleasant.

The boss of everything.HERCULES, comrade.Polykhaev,a prominent man with a crew cut,was located in the former winter garden, and his secretaryThe text for translation: ,.Серна МихайловнаThe text for translation: ,.Every now and then, a glimpse of it would appear among the surviving palms and sycamores. There stood a long table, as long as a train platform, covered with crimson cloth, where frequent and lengthy board meetings took place. Recently, in room 262, which once housed a small buffet, a commission for cleaning had settled in, consisting of eight unremarkable comrades with grayish eyes. They came in diligently every day and read various official documents.

“They look at the papers like a sheep looks at a pharmacy,” the old Hercules members scoffed proudly, “and they can’t even read properly.”

When Ostap and BalaganovroseAs the alarm rang out, employees rushed out of all the rooms. The urgency of this maneuver resembled a ship’s emergency drill. However, it was not a drill, but a break for breakfast. Some of the employees…hastenedto the buffet to grab some sandwiches with red caviar. Others took a stroll in the corridors, snacking on the go. A clerk of the noblest appearance emerged from the planning department. A young, round beard hung from his pale, gentle face.The woman’s wet eyes sparkled with kindness.In his hand, he held a cold cutlet, which he kept bringing to his mouth, each time doing so carefully.her.looking around. In this activity, the employeewith the noblest appearanceBalahonov almost interrupted.wishingfind out which floor the finance department is located on.

“Don’t you see, comrade, that I’m having a snack?” said the clerk, indignantly turning away from Balaganov.

And, paying no more attention to the milk brothers, he immersed himself in examining the last piece of the cutlet. He inspected it from all sides with the utmost care and even sniffed it.farewellThe servant sent it to his mouth, puffed out his chest, brushed the crumbs off his jacket, and slowly approached another.to the employee atthe doors of your department.

“Well, how are you feeling?” he asked, looking around.

“Better not to ask, Comrade Bomze,” he replied.. I.He also looked around and added, “Is this really life? There’s no room for individuality at all.”!It’s all the same, a five-year plan in four years, a five-year plan in three years.

“Yes, yes,” whispered Bomze, “it’s just terrible.”Текст для перевода: ..I completely agree with you. Indeed, there is no room for individuality, no incentives, no personal prospects. My wife, as you can imagine, is a homemaker.–.and she says that there are no incentives, no personal prospects!

Heaving a heavy sigh and stroking his beard,The homeless man moved towards another employee.just returned from the buffetТекст для перевода: ..

“Well, what,” he asked, smiling sadly in advance, “how are you feeling?”

“Well,” said the interlocutor, “I just got back this morning from a business trip. I managed to visit the state farm. It was grand.”!Grain factory! You have no idea, my dear, what a five-year plan is, or what the will of the collective means!

“Well, I mean, I literally said the exact same thing just now!” Bomze exclaimed passionately.It is precisely will.the team! A five-year plan in four years, or even in three – that’sthat.stimulus,
which…Yes.Finally take
even my wife.You understand, it’s home.mistressThe text for translation: ,.– and it gives due credit to industrialization. Damn it.! On.In the eyes, a new life is growing!

Stepping aside, he joyfully shook his head. A minute later, he was already holding the meek man by the sleeve.The text for translation: тов..Borisokhlebsky said:

– You are right.. I.I think so too. Why build?Magnitogorsk, state farms, all sorts of combines, when there is no personal life, when individuality is suppressed?

And a minute later, his somewhat muffled voice bubbled up from the landing of the staircase.Текст для перевода: ..

– Well, I mean, I just said the same thing to my friend Borisokhlebsky., что.to cry about individuality, about personal life, when grain factories are growing before our eyesMagnetogorsk…various combines, concrete mixers, when the team…

During the break, Bomze, who loved spiritual communication, managed to chat with a dozen colleagues. The theme of each conversation could be determined by the expression on his face, where the bitterness over the suppression of individuality quickly transformed into the bright smile of an enthusiast. But whatever feelings were stirring within Bomze,face.He was never devoid of an expression of innate nobility. Everyone, from the composed comrades in the local committee to the politically immature Kukushkin, considered Bomze to be an honest and, most importantly, principled man. However, he himself held the same opinion about himself.

The new bell, signaling the end of the rush, brought the employees back to their offices. Work resumed.

Actually, the phrase “work has resumed” had no relation to the direct activity.HERCULES, which was stipulated by the charter in
various trade operations in the field of timber and lumber. In the last year
the Hercules team, casting aside any thoughts of boring logs, dictation sheets,
export cedar, and other uninteresting matters, devoted themselves tofascinatingactivity: they fought forone’s own.the room, for my favorite hotel.

It all started with a small piece of paper that the lazy courier brought in a canvas delivery book from…Communal departmentПожалуйста, предоставьте текст, который вы хотите перевести.

“Upon receiving this,” the note stated, “you are requested to vacate the premises within a week.”The text for translation: former..The hotels “Cairo” and transfer everything.The text for translation: former..hotel inventory under the management of the hotel trust. You are provided with a spaceThe text for translation: former..The text for translation: акц..The text for translation: society.“Metal and Bacon.” Foundation:ResolutionCity Council from14/II-29The text for translation: g.

This piece of paper in the evening.They placed it on the table in front of Comrade Polyhaev, who was sitting in the electric shade of palm trees and sycamores.

– How! – the boss exclaimed nervously.HERCULES“They’re writing to me ‘proposed’! To me, who reports directly to the center! Have they lost their minds over there?”!A?.

“They might as well have written ‘prescribed,’” Serna Mikhailovna added, fanning the flames. “Bumpkins.”Текст для перевода: ..

The response of the most resolute nature was immediately dictated. The chiefHERCULEShe flatly refused to clean the room.

“They’ll know next time that I’m not their night watchman.”,.and I can’t be asked to write any “suggested”!“— mumbled comrade Polyhaev, pulling a rubber stamp with his facsimile out of his pocket and, in a fit of excitement, pressing it down upside down.”

And once again, the lazy fast walker, this time Herculean, dragged himself along the sunny streets, stopping at kvass stalls, getting involved in all the street scandals, and desperately waving a delivery book.

Three days later, Serna Mikhailovna reported the arrival of a comrade from the commune department. This comrade had recently been transferred from the district to the cultural center and still did not understand the proper way to communicate. He decided to explain things in person to avoid bureaucratic correspondence.

“Hey there!” he said as he walked into the palm room, brushing his head against the leaves. “What are you up to with this place? It’s a hotel-type building, so it should be a hotel. Why don’t you move to ‘Metal and Bacon’? The space is quite convenient.”

“Comrade,” the chief of HERCULES replied firmly, “I am not your night watchman, I am not subordinate to you, and I will not give you access to the premises. Act through the proper channels, through the center. Otherwise, it’s all just ‘proposed’ and ‘prescribed.’ You’re just creating red tape! I might report you to the oversight authority!”

The tactless comrade from the Community Department was so surprised by the unexpected turn of events that he left without saying goodbye and almost knocked over a prickly decorative plant on his way out. And already the next day, Hercules was ordered to leave the hotel immediately. The order was signed by the chairman of the city executive committee.

“It’s just a joke,” Polykhaev said, smiling grimly.

For a whole week after that, the Hercules team discussed the situation that had arisen. The employees agreed that…opinionthat Polyhaev will not tolerate such a undermining of his authority.

“You don’t know our Polyhaev yet,” said the guys from the finance department. “He’s been through the wringer. You can’t just take him on a bare resolution.”

Well done, you got it right.

Soon after that, Comrade Bomze left the office of the chief, holding a list of selected employees in his hands. He walked from department to department, leaning over…special,mentioned in the list, and mysteriously whispered:

– LittlepartyThree rubles per person.
The farewell of Polyhaev.

– How? – the chosen employees were startled. – Is Polyhaev leaving? Is he being removed?

– No, she’s going to the city for a week.The text for translation: ,.to fuss about the venue. So make sure you don’t be late. Exactly at eight.,.у меня.

The farewell was very cheerful. The employees looked devotedly at Polykhaev, who was sitting with a glass in hand, rhythmically clapping and singing:

“Drink to the bottom, drink to the bottom,”drink to the bottom“Drink to the bottom, drink to the bottom.”, – they sanguntil the beloved boss had downed a considerable amount of shots and high Sevastopol glasses, after which he began to sing, his voice wavering: “On the old Kaluga road, at the forty-ninth verst.” However, no one knew what had happened at that verst, as Polyhaev, unexpectedly for everyone, switched to another song:

A little star fell from the sky.

Chetyrekhugol’naya,

Who did you marry?

Foolish simpleton.

After Polyhaev’s departure, labor productivity inHERCULESslightly decreased. It would be funny to work at full capacity, not knowing if you would stay in this room or if you would have to haul all the office supplies over to “Meat and Bacon.” But it would be even funnier to work at full capacity after Polyhaev’s return. He came back likesaidThe homeless person, on the shield, the room was left behind.HERCULES, and the employees spent their work hours mocking the community department.

OverthrownThe institution requested to at least return the washbasins and armored beds.;But excited by his success, Polyhaev didn’t even respond. Then the struggle resumed with renewed vigor. Complaints were flying in from all directions. Polyhaev personally went out to refute them. More and more often, the victorious “peydodna” could be heard in Bomze’s apartment, and an increasingly broad range of employees was getting involved in the work to secure the premises. Gradually, the timber and lumber were forgotten. When Polyhaev suddenly found a note on his desk regarding the export of cedar or dictation sheets, he was so taken aback that for a moment he didn’t even understand what was being asked of him. Right now, he was consumed with the extremely important task of luring two particularly dangerous community department officials to his higher salary.

“You’re lucky,” Ostap said to his companion., –
youpresent atremarkableevent:.Ostap Bender is hot on the trail. Learn from him.to master oneself.A petty criminal like
Panikovsky would write.KoriykeLetter: “Please place it in the yard under the trash can.”600.rublesOtherwise“it will be bad”. I.At the bottom, I would draw a cross, a skull, and a candle. Sonya Golden Hand, whose merits I certainly do not wish to diminish, would ultimately resort to an ordinary hippie style, which would bring her about fifteen hundred. It’s a woman’s business. Let’s finally take Cornet Savin. An outstanding con artist.!As they say, there’s no room to put a comma.!.What would he do? He would come to…Pork loinHe would have caused a scandal at the housing office and ruined the whole thing, pretending to be a Bulgarian king.And I.As you can see, I’m not in a hurry. We’ve been in Chornomorsk for a week now, and I’m only going on my first date today… Uh-huh.Here it is.and the financial accounting hallТекст для перевода: ..Well, flight engineer, show me the patient. After all, you are the specialist in…To the loin.Текст для перевода: ..

They entered the bustling hall filled with visitors, and Balaganov led Bender to a corner where Chevazhevskaya, Koreiko, Kukushkind, and Dreyfus were sitting behind a yellow partition. Balaganov had already raised his hand to point out the millionaire when Ostap whispered angrily:

– You might as well shout at the top of your lungs: “Here he is, the rich guy!”!Hold it.!.“Calm down. I’ll figure it out myself. Which one of the four is it?”Текст для перевода: ..

Ostap settled onto the cool marble windowsill and, swinging his legs like a child, began to ponder.

– The girl doesn’t count. That leaves three: a red-faced sycophant with white eyes, an old man with a bushy beard in iron glasses, and a seriously-looking fat dog. I dismiss the old man with indignation. Besides the cotton he stuffed in his fluffy ears, he has no value whatsoever. That leaves two:Barbosand a white-eyed sycophant. Which one of them is Koreiko? I need to think.

Ostap stretched his neck and began comparing the candidates. He turned his head so quickly, as if he were watching a tennis match, following the action.with a glanceevery ball.

“Well, you know, flight engineer,” he finally said, “a fat mutt is much more suited to the role of an underground millionaire than a pale-eyed sycophant. Just look at the anxious gleam in the mutt’s eyes. He can’t sit still, he’s restless, he can’t wait to rush home and dive his paws into bags of cash. Of course, that’s him.”–.a collector of carats and dollars. Don’t you see that this fat face is nothing more than a democratic combination of the characters Shylock, the Miserly Knight, and Harpagon?Текст для перевода: ..And that one.another,white-eyed, just a worthless Soviet mouse. He certainly has some wealth –12.rubles in the savings bank, and p.The object of his nighttime dreams was to buy a hairy coat with a calfskin collar.This n.e Koreiko.This is a mouse., which…

But at that moment, the brilliant speech of the great schemer was interrupted by a courageous shout that echoed from the depths of the finance hall and undoubtedly belonged to an employee who had the right to shout.Текст для перевода: ..

– Comrade Koreyko! Where are the digital data on the debt to us?Communal departmentComrade Polyhaev urgently requires…!

Ostap kicked Balaganov. But the dog calmly continued to scratch with its pen. His face, bearing the most characteristic features of Shylock, Harpagon, and the Miser Knight, did not…quiveredHowever, the red-faced blonde with white eyes, this worthless creature, this Soviet mouse, consumed by the dream of a coat with a calfskin collar, showed…extraordinaryrevival. He busily tapped the drawers of the table, grabbed a piece of paper, and quickly ran off to the call.

The Great Combinator cracked and looked at Balaganov with a questioning gaze.The firstborn of Lieutenant Schmidt, as it seems, has not yet learned to master himself. Helaughed.

– Yes, – said Ostap after a moment of silence. – This won’t bring money on a plate. Unless I really beg for it. A person worthy of respect. Now it’s more about getting out into the open.It’s time to come into contact with the opponent.A funny combination popped into my head. Tonight, with God’s help, we will touch Mr. Koreiko by the udder for the first time.!.You will be the one to touch it, Shura.!.

Chapter Twelve

The instructions were very simple: To randomly meet citizen Koreiko on the street. Do not hit him under any circumstances and do not use physical force at all. Take everything that is found in the pockets of the mentioned citizen. Report on the execution.

Despite the exceptional simplicity and clarity of the instructions given by the great combinator, Balaganov and Panikovsky got into a heated argument. The lieutenant’s sons were sitting on a green bench in the city garden, frequently glancing at the entrance.HERCULESAs they argued, they didn’t even notice that the wind, bending the spray of the fountain, was showering them with scattered droplets. They only jerked their heads, stared blankly at the clear sky, and kept on debating. Panikovsky, who had swapped his thick jacket for something lighter due to the heat,firefighterin a calico shirt with a turned-down collar, he held himself arrogantly. He was very proud of the task that had been entrusted to him.

“Just theft,” he said.

– Just a robbery, – protested Balaganov, who was also proud of the commander’s trust.and was planning to shineТекст для перевода: ..

“You are a pathetic, insignificant person,” Panikovsky declared, looking at his interlocutor with disgust.

“You’re a cripple,” Balaganov remarked. “Right now…”I am the boss.

– Who is the boss?

– I’m the boss. It’s my responsibility.

– To you?

– Me.

– You?

– Who else could it be? Surely not you?

And the conversation shifted to a topic that had nothing in common.neither with theft nor with robberyThe crooks got so worked up that they even started lightly pushing each other with their palms and shouting in turn, “And who are you?”!“Such actions usually precede a general brawl, in which the opponents throw their hats on the ground, call passersby as witnesses, and smear children’s tears on their bristly faces.”

But the fight didn’t happen. When the most opportune moment for delivering the first slap arrived, Panikovsky suddenly withdrew his hands and agreed to consider Balaganov his direct superior. Perhaps he remembered that he had often been beaten by individuals and entire groups, and that it had hurt him quite a lot. Once he seized power, Balaganov immediately softened.

“Why not rob him?” he said less insistently. “Is it really that hard? Koreyko walks down the street in the evening. It’s dark. I approach from his left side.”, you.Come from the right. I’m pushing him on the left side, you push on the right. This fool stops and says, “Hooligan.”It seems that there is no text provided for translation. Please provide the text you would like me to translate.Me. “Who is the bully?” I ask. And you also ask who the bully is, pressing from the right. At this point, I give him a… No, I can’t hit him.Текст для перевода: ..

– That’s the thing, you can’t hit.!.–
Panikovsky sighed hypocritically. – Bender doesn’t allow it.

– I know myself.!…In general, I grab him by the arms, and you check his pockets for anything extra. He, as usual, screams, “Police!“, and then I…ах.You, damn it, you can’t hit!The text for translation: !…In general, we’re going home. So, what’s the plan?

But Panikovsky evaded a direct answer. He took the carved resort cane with a slingshot instead of a handle from Balaganov’s hands and, drawing a straight line in the sand, said:

“Look. First of all, wait until the evening. Secondly…”

And Panikovsky drew a wavy perpendicular line upward from the right end of the straight line.

– Secondly, he might just not go out tonight. And even if he does go out, then…

Here Panikovsky connected both lines of the third, so on the sand there appeared something resembling a triangle, and he finished:

– Who knows? Maybe he’ll be strolling around in a big group. What do you think about that?

Balaganov looked at the triangle with respect. Panikovsky’s arguments seemed to him not particularly convincing, but in the triangle, there was such a genuine hopelessness that Balaganov hesitated. Noticing this, Panikovsky didn’t waste any time.

“Go to Kyiv!” he said unexpectedly. “And then you’ll understand that I’m right. You must go to Kyiv.”Текст для перевода: ..

– What’s Kyiv like??.“Why?” Shura mumbled.

“Go to Kyiv and ask there what Panikovsky was doing before the revolution.”Ask.

“Why are you bothering me?” he said, frowning.askedBalaganov.

“– No, you ask! – insisted Panikovsky. – Go and ask!”Текст для перевода: ..And they’ll tell you that before the revolution, Panikovsky was blind. If it weren’t for the revolution, would I have gone to the children of Lieutenant Schmidt, what do you think? After all, I was a wealthy man. I had a family and a nickel-plated samovar on the table. So what was feeding me? Blue glasses and a cane.

He took out of his pocket a cardboard case covered with black paper featuring dull silver stars and showed a pair of blue glasses.

“With these glasses,” he said with a sigh, “I survived for many years. I would go out wearing glasses and with a cane on Khreshchatyk, asking some gentleman to kindly help the poor blind man cross the street. The gentleman would take me by the arm and lead me. On the other sidewalk, he often didn’t have time, if he even had a watch, or a wallet. Some carried wallets with them.”

“Why did you give up on this matter?” asked Balaganov.The text for translation: ,.revived.

“Revolution!” replied the former blind man. “Before, I used to pay the city guard at the corner of Khreshchatyk and Proreznaya five rubles a month, and nobody bothered me. The guard even made sure that no one mistreated me. He was a good man.”Пожалуйста, предоставьте текст для перевода.His last name was Nebaba, Semen Vasilyevich. I met him recently. He is now a music critic. And now…!.Is it even possible to contact the police? No.The text for translation: deleted.worse than the people!.They’ve become some kind of ideologues, some cultural figures. And now, in his old age, Balaganov has had to become a con artist. But for such an urgent matter, I can put my old glasses to use. It’s much more reliable than robbery.

In five minutes, a blind man in blue glasses emerged from the public restroom, surrounded by tobacco and mint. With his chin raised to the sky and tapping his resort cane lightly in front of him, he made his way toward the exit of the garden. Following closely behind him was Balaganov. Panicovsky was unrecognizable. With his shoulders thrown back and carefully placing his feet on the sidewalk, he was getting closer to the houses.knockedwith a stickalong the water pipe channelHe bumped into passersby and, looking through them, continued on his way. He worked so diligently that he even pushed through a large queue, the head of which was pressed against a post marked “Bus Stop.” Balaganov could only marvel at the lively blind man.

Panikovsky was causing trouble until Koreiko emerged from the Hercules entrance. Balaganov started to panic. At first, he jumped too close to the scene, then he ran too far away. Only after all this did he find a comfortable spot to observe.observationsthe position at the fruit kiosk.He felt that very pleasure of battle, that heroic ecstasy that people who supposedly went into bayonet charges casually recount at parties. However, in the…For some reason, he has a mouth.repulsivethe taste, as if he had been sucking on a copper doorknob for half an hour. But, looking at the evolution of Panikovsky, he calmed down.

He.I saw that the blind man turned around.frontal partthe millionaire, tapped him on the leg with a stick and bumped into him with his shoulder. After that, they apparently exchanged a few words. Then Koreiko smiled, took the blind man by the arm, and helped him step down onto the pavement. For greater authenticity, Panikovsky was hitting the cobblestones with his stick as hard as he could and tilting his head back as if he were reined in. The blind man’s subsequent actions were so precise and clear that Balaganov even feltlightEnvy. Panikovsky embraced his companion around the waist. His hand slid along Koreiko’s left side and lingered for a moment over the canvas pocket of the millionaire clerk.

“Well, well!”“Let’s go, old man, let’s go!” whispered Balaganov.The text for translation: ».

But at that very moment, they flashed.someThe glass trembled, the pear muttered anxiously, the ground shook, and a large white bus, barely keeping its wheels on the ground, suddenly came to a halt in the middle of the road. At the same time, two screams rang out.Текст для перевода: ..

“Idiot! Can’t you see the bus!” Panikovsky shrieked, jumping out from under the wheel and threatening the guide with the glasses he had torn off his nose.

“He’s not blind!” Korayko exclaimed in surprise. “Thief!”

Everything was shrouded in blue smoke, the bus rolled on, and when the gasoline curtain tore apart, Balaganov saw that Panikovsky was surrounded by a small crowd of people. There was some commotion around the supposed blind man. Balaganov ran closer. An ugly smile wandered across Panikovsky’s face. He was strangely indifferent to everything happening around him, although…left.his earIt became.so ruby-red that it would probably glow in the dark, and by its light one could…would showphotographic plates.

Shoving aside the citizens who had gathered from all around, Balaganov rushed into the “Karlsbad” hotel.

The great combinator sat at a bamboo table and wrote.

“Panikovsky is being beaten!” shouted Balaganov, dramatically appearing in the doorway.

“Already?” Bender asked briskly. “That seems very quick.”

“Panikovsky is being beaten!” the red-haired Shura repeated in despair. “Near…”HERCULESТекст для перевода: ..

– Why are you yelling like a polar bear in warm weather? – Ostap said sternly. – Have you been at it for long?

– About five minutes.

“Well, you could have said that right away. What a cantankerous old man!”Текст для перевода: ..Well, let’s go and take a look. You can tell me about it on the way.

When the great combinator arrived at the scene, Koreiko was already gone, but a massive crowd was swirling around Panikovsky, blocking the street. Cars were honking impatiently, stuck against the human mass. Nurses in white coats were looking out from the windows of the clinic. Dogs with curved saber-like tails were running around. The fountain in the city garden had stopped working. Taking a deep breath, Bender squeezed into the crowd.

“Excuse me,” he said, “one more excuse! Sorry, madam, but did you lose a ticket for jam at the corner?”, fasterRun, he’s still lying there.!Skip the experts, you man.Текст для перевода: ..Let go, they tell you, you outcast!

By applying the carrot-and-stick policy in this way, Ostap made his way to the center, where Panikovsky was languishing. By this time, in the light…rightThe ear of the convention violator could also be produced.various kinds ofphotographic works.SeeingCommander, Panikovsky drooped his head in despair.

“Is it this one?” Ostap asked dryly, nudging Panikovsky in the back.

– This very one!– Joyfully confirmed the numerous truth-seekers. – We saw it with our own eyes.

Ostap called on the citizens to remain calm, pulled a notebook out of his pocket, and, looking at Panikovsky, said authoritatively:

– I would like the witnesses to provide their last names and addresses.
Witnesses! Z.Sign up!

It would seem that the citizens who showed such enthusiasm in capturing Panikovsky would not hesitate to expose the criminal with their testimonies. However, when it comes to the word “witnesses,” all truth-seekers…somehowgot bored, foolishly started to fuss, and began to back away. Gaps and whirlpools formed in the crowd. Shestarted to fall apartin front of one’s eyes.

“Where are the witnesses?” Ostap repeated.

Panic ensued. Elbowing their way through, the witnesses made their way out, and in an instant, the street returned to its usual appearance.Bored cars
hit the gas. OThe doors of the clinic slammed shut.. S.The dogs began to carefully inspect the bases of the sidewalk pillars, and in the city garden, a stream of the fountain shot up again with a sharp squeal.

Having ensured that the street was clear and that Panikovsky was no longer in danger, the great schemer grumbled:

– Talentless old man! Untalented madman! Another
great blind one has emerged – Panikovsky! Homer, Milton, and Panikovsky!
What a warm company! And Balaganov…!Also – a sailor from a wrecked ship.!They’re beating Panikovsky, they’re beating Panikovsky!
And he himself…The text for translation: !…Let’s go to the city garden. I’ll set up a scene for you by the fountain.!

At the fountain, Balaganov immediately shifted all the blame onto Panikovsky. The scandalized blind man pointed to his…loosened inThe years of turmoil have taken a toll on my nerves, and by the way, it was stated that Balaganov is to blame for everything.,.The individual, as is well known, is pitiful and insignificant. The brothers immediately began to push each other away with their palms. Monotonous sounds could already be heard.shouts ““Who do you think you are?” A large tear had already escaped from Panikovsky’s eye, a harbinger of the impending brawl, when the great schemer said…“Break!”, outmaneuvered the opponents, like a referee in the ring.

“You will be boxing on the weekends,” he said., – delightfulBalahonov in the weight of a rooster, Panikovsky in the weight of a hen.Текст для перевода: ..However, gentlemen champions, you are workers.,.like a dog’s tail–.Sieve. This will end badly. I will fire you, especially…,.that you do not represent anything socially valuable.

Panikovsky and Balaganov, forgetting about their quarrel, began to swear and assure each other that they would search for Koreiko by this evening, no matter what. Bender just smiled.

– You’ll see.!.– Balaganov boasted. – An attack on the street.!.Under the cover of night darkness!.That’s right, Mikhail Samueleyevich?

–.I swear.“– supported Panikovsky”, –
wewith Shura…No.worryТекст для перевода: ..You are dealing with Panikovsky.!.

“That’s what saddens me,” Bender said, “although, please… How do you put it? Under the cover of night? Settle in under the cover. The idea, of course, is rather thin. And the presentation will probably be quite shabby as well.”

– Let’s go, Mikhail Samuelyevich!

Balaganov took Panikovsky by the hand, and they quickly left, accompanied by the thoughtful gaze of the great schemer.

They are lucky.After several hours of street duty, all the necessary information finally came to light: the cover of night and the patient himself, who had left the house where the old riddle master lived, accompanied by a girl. The girlIt wasn’t part of the plan, but the bandit brothers hoped she would drop out somewhere along the way.For now, I had to follow the strollers who were heading to the sea.

A burning fragment of the moon hung low over the cooling shore. On the rocks sat black basalt couples, forever entwined. The sea whispered about love until death, about happiness without return, about the torments of the heart and other such irrelevant trifles. The star spoke.с.a star in Morse code, lighting up and fading away. The light tunnel of the spotlight connected the shores of the bay. When it disappeared, a black column lingered in its place for a long time.

“I’m tired,” Panikovsky whined, trudging along the cliffs behind Alexander Ivanovich and his lady. “I’m old. It’s hard for me.”

He stumbled over the gopher holes and fell, grabbing at the dry cow patties. He longed to go to the inn, to the hospitable Kozlevich, with whom it was so nice to have tea and chat about all sorts of things.

И в.thisthe moment when Panikovsky firmly decided to go home, suggesting to Balaganov to finish the task alone, aheadit was heard:.

– How warm it is! Don’t you swim at night, Alexander Ivanovich?
– Well, then wait here. I’ll just take a dip and be right back.!.

There was the sound of pebbles tumbling down the cliff, the white dress disappeared, and Koreiko was left alone.

– Hurry up!“Let’s go,” Balaganov whispered, tugging Panikovsky by the arm. “So, I’ll come in from the left side, and you from the right. But make it quick!”

“I’m on the left,” the violator of the convention said timidly.

– Alright, alright, you’re on the left. I’m pushing it to the left side, no, to the right, and you’re pressing from the left.

– Why on the left?

– Here’s another one.Пожалуйста, предоставьте текст для перевода.Well, to the right.!.He says: “Hooligans“, and you respond: “Who is the troublemaker?”

– No, you answer first.

– Good.!.I’ll tell everything to Bender.!.Let’s go,
let’s go.!.So, you are on the left.!…

And the valiant sons of Lieutenant Schmidt, trembling with fear, approached Alexander Ivanovich.

The plan was disrupted right from the start. Instead of entering from the right side and pushing the millionaire in the right side, as per the instructions, Balaganov hesitated and suddenly said:

– May I borrow a light?

“I don’t smoke,” Koreiko replied coldly.

– So, – Shura said foolishly, glancing at Panikovsky. – Do you happen to know what time it is?

– About twelve o’clock.

– Twelve, – Balaganov repeated. – Hmm… I had no idea.

“Nice warm evening,” Panikovsky said, trying to ingratiate himself.

A pause settled in, during which the crickets were in full swing. The moon turned pale, and in its light, one could see the well-developed shoulders of Alexander Ivanovich. Panikovsky couldn’t stand the tension any longer, stepped behind Koreiko, and shrieked:

– Hands up!

“What’s that?” Koriyko asked in surprise.

– Hands up!“— repeated Panikovsky in a fallen voice.”

At the same timeHe received a short, very painful blow to the shoulder and fell to the ground. When he got up, Koreyko was already grappling with Balaganov. Both were breathing heavily, as if they were dragging a piano. From below, the sound of mermaid laughter and splashing could be heard.The fighters were butting heads and energetically throwing punches.

– What.ж.“Are you hitting me?” Balaganov shouted.Panikovsky!..

– I’ll show you.The text for translation: ,.“What time is it!” hissed Koreiko, pouring into his strikes the age-old hatred of the rich for the robber.

Panikovsky crawled on all fours to the scene of the fight and, from behind, shoved both hands into his pockets.modestHercules. Koreiko kicked him, but it was already too late. The metal box of “Caucasus” cigarettes had moved from the left pocket into Panikovsky’s hands. From another pocket, papers and membership cards spilled onto the ground.

“Run!” shouted Panikovsky from somewhere in the darkness.

The last blow was dealt to Balaganov.already.in the back.

In a few minutesslightlyWrinkled and agitated, Alexander Ivanovich saw two moonlit, blue figures high above him. They were running along the ridge of the mountain.in the direction of the cityТекст для перевода: ..

Fresh and smelling of iodine, Zosia caught Alexander Ivanovich engaged in a strange activity. He was kneeling and, lighting matches with trembling fingers, was picking up scraps of paper from the grass. But before Zosia could ask what was going on, he had already found the receipt for the small suitcase resting in the luggage storage, nestled between a wicker basket of cherries and a flannel garment bag.

– I accidentally dropped it.!– he said, smiling tensely and carefully hiding the receipt.

He only remembered the cigarette box “Caucasus” with the ten thousand that he hadn’t managed to pack into his suitcase when he entered the city.

He was horrified.

The Beggar. Night Telegrams. A Book About Millionaires. The Pretend Blind Man. And finally – the attack. The madness continued.

While the titanic struggle was taking place on the seashore, Ostap Bender decided that staying in a hotel, in full view of the entire city, was beyond the scope of his plan.им.business and
gives it unnecessary formality. Having read in the Black Seaevening announcement
«“Room for rent in a spacious apartment for a single, intelligent bachelor,” and instantly realizing that this advertisement meant “A beautiful room with all amenities and a sea view for a lonely, cultured bachelor,” Ostap thought:

“Right now, I seem to be single. Just recently, I was from Old Town.”Registry Office.“I received a notice that my marriage to citizen Gritsatsuyeva has been dissolved at her request and that I am assigned my maiden name O. Bender. Well, I guess I’ll have to lead a pre-marital life. I am single, alone, and intellectual. The room will undoubtedly remain mine.”

And, pulling on his cool white pants, the great schemer set off to the address listed in the ad.

Chapter Thirteen

Exactly at 4:40 PM, Vasisauliy Lokhankin declared a hunger strike. He lay on a vinyl couch, turned away from the world, facing the bulging back of the sofa. He was lying there in suspenders and green socks, which are also called “karpetki” in Chernomorsk.

After being hungry for about twenty minutes in that position, Lokhankin groaned, turned onto his other side, and looked at his wife. In doing so, his green slippers described a small arc in the air. His wife was tossing her belongings into a painted travel bag: shaped bottles, a rubber massage roller, two dresses with trains and one old dress without a train, a felt helmet with a glass crescent, copper cartridges filled with lipstick, and knitted leggings.

“Varvara!” said Lokhankin under his breath.

The wife was silent, breathing heavily.

– Varvara! – he repeated. – Are you really leaving me for Ptiburdakov?

“Yes,” replied the wife. “I’m leaving. It’s necessary.”

– But why, why? – said Lokhankin with a cow-like passion.

His already large nostrils quivered mournfully. The pharaonic goatee trembled.

– Because I love him.

– What about me?

– Vasysualiy! I informed you yesterday. I don’t love you anymore.

– But I! I love you, Varvara.Текст для перевода: ..

– It’s your private matter, Vasisauliy.Текст для перевода: ..I’m leaving for Ptiburdakov. It’s necessary.

“– No!” exclaimed Lokhankin.– No.Can one person leave if another loves them?

“Maybe,” Varvara said irritably,looking.in a pocket mirror. – And in general, stop fooling around, Vasisualliy.

– In that case, I will continue my hunger strike! – the unfortunate man shouted. – I will starve until you come back.!Day.!.A week!I will fast for a year!

Lokhankin flipped over again and buried his thick nose in the slippery, cold tablecloth.

“I’m just going to lie here in my suspenders,” came the voice from the couch, “until I die. And it’s all your fault.”this
insignificantPtyburdukova.

My wife thought,взделаon the white unbaked shoulder, a fallen strap, and suddenly she began to wailТекст для перевода: ..

– You have no right to speak about Ptiburdakov like that! He is above you!

Lokhankin didn’t collapse. He jolted as if an electric shock had run through him from his suspenders to his green slippers.

– You’re a female, Varvara, – he whined languidly. – You’re a public whore!

“Vasisuvaliy, you fool!” his wife replied calmly.

– You are a she-wolf, – Lokhankin continued in the same drawn-out tone. – I despise you. You’re leaving me for your lover. You’re leaving me for that worthless Ptiburdakov. You’re going to that insignificant Ptiburdakov today, you disgusting creature. So that’s who you’re leaving me for! You want to indulge in your lust with him. An old, vile she-wolf, too.Текст для перевода: ..

Indulging in his sorrow, Lokhankin didn’t even notice that he was speaking in iambic pentameter, even though he had never written poetry and didn’t enjoy reading it.

– VasysualiyТекст для перевода: ..Stop clowning around.!“Look at yourself,” said the she-wolf, fastening her bag. “You could at least wash up.”!.I’m leaving.That’s how it should be.Goodbye, Vasisualiy.!I’m leaving your bread ration card on the table.

And Varvara, grabbing the bag, went to the door. Seeing that the spells had not worked, Lokhankin jumped up from the sofa, ran to the table, and with a scream of “Help!” tore the card. Varvara was frightened. She imagined her husband, emaciated from hunger, with faint pulses and cold limbs.

– What have you done? – she said. – You mustn’t starve yourself!

– I will.,.“Lochankin declared stubbornly.”

– It’s foolish, Vasisauliy. It’s a rebellion of individuality.!.

– And I am proud of it.!.– replied Lokhankin in a suspicious iambic tone. – You underestimatemeaningindividualities and the intelligentsia in general.

–.О.Society will judge you.!.

“Let them judge,” Vasisauliy said firmly and once again flopped onto the couch.

Varvara silently threw the bag on the floor, quickly yanked off her straw hood, and muttered, “Raging male!“tyrant”и.“Owner,” she hurriedly made a sandwich with eggplant caviar.

“Eat!” she said, bringing the food to her husband’s crimson lips. “Do you hear me, Lokhankin? Eat right now!”!.Well!

“Leave me alone,” he said, pulling his wife’s hand away.

Taking advantage of the moment when the hungry person’s mouth opened for an instant, Varvara skillfully…squeezed ina sandwich
into the gap formed between the pharaonic beard and the shaved Moscow
mustache. But the starving person with a strong flick of the tongueshook outI write outside.

“Eat, you scoundrel!” Varvara shouted in despair, shoving a sandwich at him. “Intellectual!”

But Lokhankin turned away his face.from the sandwichand he mooed negatively. A few minutes laterheated and erasedVarvara retreated with green caviar. She sat on her sack and cried icy tears.

Lokhankin brushed off the crumbs that had gotten caught in his beard, cast a cautious, sidelong glance at his wife, and fell silent on his couch. He really didn’t want to part with Varvara. Despite her many flaws, Varvara had two significant assets: a large white bosom and a job. Vasisauliy himself had never served anywhere. Service would have interfered with his thoughts on the meaning of the Russian intelligentsia, a social class to which he considered himself a part.So what?Lohankin’s prolonged thoughts revolved around a pleasant and familiar topic: “Vasisauliy Lohankin and his significance,” “Lohankin and the tragedy of Russian liberalism.”и.“Lokhankin and his role in the Russian Revolution.” It was easy and calm to think about all this while strolling around the room in felt boots that were bought at…Varvarinymoney, and glancing at the favorite cabinet where the spines shimmered with church goldBrockhaus’sof the encyclopedic dictionary. Vasisauliy stood for a long time in front of the cabinet, shifting his gaze from one spine to another. In order of rank, there were wonderful examples of binding art displayed there:bigmedical encyclopedia, “The Life of Animals”Brema.The text for translation: ,.Gnedich’s “History of Arts”the hefty tome “Man and Woman,” as well as “Earth and People” by Elisée Reclus.

“Next to this treasure trove of thoughts,” Vasisualliy pondered slowly, “you become purer, somehow growing spiritually.”

Coming to this conclusion, he sighed with joy, pulled out from under the cabinet “Rodina” from 1899, bound in a seafoam green cover with foam and splashes, examined the pictures of the Anglo-Boer War, and an advertisement from an unknown lady titled: “This is how I increased my bust by six inches.”The text for translation: “и.”other interestingpieces.Текст для перевода: ..

With Varvara’s departure, the material foundation on which the well-being of the most worthy representative of thinking humanity rested would also vanish.

In the evening, Ptiburdikov arrived. He hesitated for a long time before entering the Lohan kin’s room and wandered around the kitchen among the long, flickering primuses and the ropes stretched across, on which hung dry, plastered laundry stained with blue dye. The apartment came to life. Doors slammed, shadows rushed by, the eyes of the residents sparkled, and somewhere, a passionate sigh was heard:“The man has arrived.”Текст для перевода: ..

Ptiburdukoff took off his cap, tugged at his engineer’s mustache, and finally made up his mind.

– Varya, – he said pleadingly as he entered the room, – we agreed…

“Look, Sashuk!” Varvara shouted, grabbing him by the hand and pushing him toward the couch. “Here he is! Lying there! A male! The despicable owner! Do you understand, this…”BarbosI declared a hunger strike because I want to leave him.!.

Seeing Ptiburdakov, the starving man immediately launched into a five-foot iamb.

– Ptiburdikov, I despise you, – he whined. – Don’t you dare touch my wife., t.You scoundrel, Ptiburdakov, you villain.!Where are you taking my wife away from me?The text for translation: ?…

– Comrade Lokhankin!– he said in shock, grabbing his mustache.

“Go away, go away, I hate you,” continued Vasisualiy, swaying like an old Jew in prayer, “you miserable worm and disgusting at that.”!.You’re not an engineer; you’re a boor, a scoundrel, a bastard, a creeping creep, and a pimp to boot.!

– How can you not be ashamed, Vasisualiy Andreich, – said the bored Ptiburdakov, – it’s just plain silly. Well, think about what you’re doing! In the second year of the five-year plan…

– He dared to tell me that it’s stupid! He, he, the one who stole my wife! Get out of here, Ptiburdakov, or else!to you.I’ll give you a good whack, right on the neck.

– A sick person, – said Ptiburdakov, trying to stay within the bounds of decency.

But these constraints were too tight for Varvara. She grabbed a dried-up green sandwich from the table and approached the starving man. Lokhankin defended himself with such desperation, as if he were about to be castrated.ConscientiousPtiburduk turned away and looked out the window at the horse chestnut tree, blooming with white candles. Behind him, he could hear the disgusting mooing of Lokhankin and Varvara’s shouts: “Eat, you vile man! Eat, you serf!”

The next day, upset by the unexpected obstacle, Varvara did not go to work. The starving man grew worse.

“Now the cramps in my stomach have started,”reportedhe.sad– and there is scurvy due to malnutrition, hair and tooth loss.Пожалуйста, предоставьте текст, который вы хотите перевести.

Ptiburdukoff brought his brother, a military doctor. Ptiburdukoff the second listened intently to Lokhankin’s body, as a cat listens for the movement of a mouse that has climbed into the sugar bowl. During the examination, Vasisauliy looked at his chest, which was as hairy as a mid-season coat, with tear-filled eyes. He felt very sorry for himself. Ptiburdukoff the second glanced at Ptiburdukoff the first and reported that the patient did not need to follow a diet.. No.Fish is excluded. Smoking is allowed, of course, in moderation. Drinking is not recommended, but a shot of good port wine wouldn’t be a bad idea for the appetite. In general, the doctor didn’t quite grasp the emotional drama.LokhankinaBreathless and stomping his boots, he left, declaring in farewell that the patient was not forbidden.even.swim in the sea and ride a bike.

But the patient didn’t think about introducing any compote, fish, cutlets, or other delicacies into his diet. He didn’t go to the sea to swim; instead, he continued to lie on the couch, showering those around him with scathing remarks. Varvara felt pity for him. “He’s starving because of me,” she thought, reflecting on the situation.satisfaction– what a passion it is!!“Is Sashuk capable of such a high feeling?” And she cast anxious glances.on SashukaThe look on his face showed that romantic experiences were notinterfereHe needs to regularly have lunches and dinners. And even once, when Ptiburdakov left the room, she called Vasisauliya.poor little thing. At this point, at the mouthVasisauliaagain appearedsandwich.

“Just a little more patience,” thought Lokhankin, “and my Varvara will be out of sight for Ptiburdikov.”

He listened with pleasure to the voices coming from the neighboring room.

– He will die without me, – Varvara said, – we’ll have to wait. You can see that I can’t leave right now.

At night, Varvara had a terrible dream. Withered from intense feelings, Vasisauliy was gnawing on the white spurs of a military doctor’s boots. It was horrifying. The doctor’s face bore a submissive expression, like that of a cow being milked by a village thief. The spurs clattered, and teeth ground together. In fear, Varvara woke up.

The yellow Japanese sun shone directly, exerting all its strength to illuminate such a trifle as a facetedcorkfrom the bottle of cologne “Turandot.” The vinyl sofa was empty. Varvara looked around and saw Vasisualiy. He was standing by the open buffet door, with his back to the bed, and was chewing loudly. Out of impatience and greed, he leaned forward, tapping his foot in green.stocking.He was making whistling and slurping sounds through his nose. After finishing a tall can of food, he carefully removed the lid from the pot and, plunging his fingers into the cold borscht, pulled out a piece of meat. If Varvara had caught her husband doing this even in the best times of their married life, it would have been bad for Vasisaulius. Now, however, his fate was sealed.

– Lokhankin! – she said in a terrible voice.

Out of fear, the starving man dropped the meat, which splashed back into the pot, sending a fountain of cabbage and carrot stars flying. With a mournful howl, Vasisauliy threw himself onto the sofa. Varvara silently and quickly got dressed.

– Varvara! – he said through his nose. – Are you really leaving me for Ptiburdakov?

There was no response.

“You’re a she-wolf,” Lokhankin declared uncertainly, “I despise you, you’re leaving me for Ptiburdikov…”

But it was already too late. Vasisauliy lamented about love and the hunger of death in vain. Varvara had left forever, dragging behind her a travel bag filled with colorful tights, a felt hat, ornate bottles, and other items of a lady’s belongings.

And in the life of Vasisauliy Andreevich, a period of tormenting thoughts and moral suffering began. There are people who do not know how to suffer; it just doesn’t happen for them. And if they do suffer, they try to do it as quickly and discreetly as possible, so as not to draw attention from those around them. Lohanin, on the other hand, suffered openly and majestically; he lashed out at his grief with tea glasses, reveling in it. His great sorrow gave him the opportunity to ponder once again the significance of the Russian intelligentsia, as well as the tragedy of Russian liberalism.

“Maybe this is how it has to be,” he thought, “maybe this is redemption and I will come out of it cleansed.”Текст для перевода: ..Isn’t that the fate of all who stand above the crowd?The text for translation: ,.people with a slender buildТекст для перевода: ..Galileo!.Milyukov!.A.F. Koni!.“Yes, yes. Varvara is right, that’s how it should be!”

However, his emotional depression did not prevent him from placing an ad in the newspaper about renting out a second room.

“This will still provide me with some material support in the beginning,” Vasisauliy decided.

And once again, I found myself immersed in hazy thoughts about the sufferings of the flesh and the meaning of the soul.,.as a source
of beauty. Not even the urgent reminders
from the neighbors about the need to turn off the light in the bathroom could distract him from this activity. In his
emotional turmoil, Lokhankin constantly forgot to do this, which greatly annoyed
the frugal residents.

MeanwhiletenantsIn the large communal apartment number three, where Lokhankin lived, the residents were considered willful and were known throughout the building for their frequent scandals.Текст для перевода: ..Apartment number three was even nicknamed “The Crow’s Nest.” A long life together had toughened these people, and they knew no fear. The balance of the apartments was maintained by blocks of solidarity among the individual residents. Sometimes, the inhabitants of “The Crow’s Nest” would unite against a single tenant, and that tenant would have a hard time. The centripetal force of their litigiousness would sweep them up, pulling them into the offices of legal consultants, whirling them through the smoke-filled corridors of the courts.и в.the cameras of friendly and people’s courts.
And the rebellious one wandered for a long time.tenant inin search of truth,.reaching the very All-Union elder,.Comrade Kalinin. And until his very death, the tenant will be throwing around legal jargon that he picked up in various official places, saying not “is punished,” but “will be punished,” not “act,” but “deed.”. YourselfHe will no longer be called “Comrade Zhukov,” as he has been since birth, but rather “the aggrieved party.” However, more often than not, and with particular delight, he will utter the phrase “file a lawsuit.” And his life, which has never been a bed of roses, will become even more…уж.lousy.

Long before the Lohankins’ family drama, pilot Sevryugov, toto misfortuneto his own, residing inboisterousIn apartment number three, Seryugov took off on an urgent business trip for the Osoaviakhim beyond the Arctic Circle. The whole world anxiously followed Seryugov’s flight. A foreign expedition heading to the pole had gone missing, and Seryugov was supposed to find it. The world was filled with hope for the pilot’s successful actions. Radio stations from all continents were communicating, meteorologists warned the brave Seryugov about magnetic storms, and shortwave broadcasters filled the airwaves.callsigns, and the Polish newspaper “Courier”Wounded», close to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, has already called for the expansion of Poland toborders1772. A whole month.tenant of apartment number threeHe flew over the icy desert, and the roar of

Finally, Sevryugov did whatcompletelyThe newspaper, close to the Polish Ministry of Foreign Affairs, was thrown into confusion. He found an expedition lost among the ice ridges, managed to report its exact location, but then suddenly disappeared himself. Upon receiving this news, the world was filled with cries.delightThe name Sevryugov was pronounced in three hundred and twenty languages and dialects, including the language of the Blackfoot Indians. Portraits of Sevryugov in animal skins appeared on every free sheet of paper. In a conversation with representatives of the press, Gabriele D’Annunzio announced that he had just finished a new novel and was immediately flying out in search of the brave Russian. The Charleston appeared.The text for translation: :.“I’m warm with my little one at the pole.”
And the old Moscow hustlers.Usyshkin–Werther, Leonid Trepetovsky, and Boris Ammiakov, who have long been practicing literary dumping and flooding the market with their products at rock-bottom prices, were already writing a review underназванием
«“Aren’t you cold?”Текст для перевода: ..In a word, our planet was experiencing a great sensation.

But an even bigger sensation was caused by the news from apartment number three, located in building number eight on Lemon Lane, which is better known as “Crow’s Sloboda.”

– Our tenant has gone missing.!.“How joyful!” said the retired janitor Nikita Pryakhin, drying something over the primus stove.feltedBoot. – It’s gone, dear. And don’t fly, don’t fly.Текст для перевода: ..A person should walk, not fly. They should walk, walk.

And he was turning the felt boot over the moaning fire.

– You’ve flown too close to the sun, yellow-eyed.!“– murmured the grandmother, whose name and surname no one knew. She lived in the attic, above the kitchen, and”The text for translation: ,.Although the entire apartment was lit by electricity, Grandma burned a kerosene lamp with a reflector upstairs. She didn’t trust electricity. “Well, the room is free now,”Текст для перевода: ..

Grandma was the first to utter the word that had long weighed heavily on the hearts of the residents of “Crow’s Hollow.” Everyone began to talk about the room of the missing pilot.former prince, and now the working people of the East,.Citizen Gigenishvili, and Dunya, who rented a bed in Aunt Pasha’s room, and Aunt Pasha herself – a trader and a bitter drunkard, and Alexander Dmitrievich Sukhoveyko., formerthe chamberlain of His Imperial Majesty’s court, who was simply called Mitrich in the apartment, and the other tenants led by the responsible tenant, Lyucia Frantsevna Pferd.

“Well,” said Mitrich, adjusting his gold glasses, “when the kitchen…”filled up“Since the comrade has disappeared, we need to divide things up among the tenants. For example, I have long had the right to additional space.”

“Why does a man need the square?” protested the bedmate, Dunya. “A woman needs it. I might never have another chance in my life for a man to suddenly disappear.”

And how much longer will she be?pushedamong those gathered, presenting various arguments in their favor and often uttering the word “manIt seems that there is no text provided for translation. Please provide the text you would like me to translate.

In any case, the residents agreed that the room needed to be taken back immediately.

On the same day, the world trembled with a new sensation. The bold Semyrygov was found. Nizhny Novgorod, Quebec, and Reykjavik heard the signals from Semyrygov. He was sitting with a crumpled chassis on…84.The airwaves were buzzing with reports: “The brave Russian is feeling great,” “Sevryugov sends a report to the Presidium of Osoaviakhim,” “Charles Lindbergh considers Sevryugov the best pilot in the world,” “Seven icebreakers have gone to assist Sevryugov and the expedition he discovered.” In between these reports, newspapers printed only photographs of some icy edges and shores. The words echoed endlessly: “Sevryugov, Nordkap, parallel, Franz Josef Land, Spitsbergen, Kings Bay, fuel, Sevryugov.”

The despair that gripped “Voron’ya Slobodka” upon hearing this news soon gave way to calm confidence. The icebreakers were moving slowly, struggling to break through the ice fields.

– Selectroom andall.!.– said Nikita Priahin. – It’s nice for him to sit there on the ice, but here, for example, Dunya has all the rights. Moreover, according to the law, a tenant cannot be absent for more than two months.

– How can you not be ashamed, citizen Pryakhin! – protested Varvara, who was still Lokhankina at the time, waving the “Izvestia.” – After all, this is a hero!!.After all, he is currently at…84.parallelsПожалуйста, предоставьте текст для перевода.

“What kind of parallel is that?” Mitrich replied vaguely, “Maybe…”no such thingThere are no parallels at all. We don’t know that. We weren’t educated in gymnasiums.

Mitrich was speaking the absolute truth. IngymnasiumsHe did not receive any formal education. He graduated from the Page Corps.

– You have to understand.!.“Varvara was boiling over, holding a newspaper page up to the chamberlain’s nose. ‘Here’s the article. Do you see? ‘Among the ice floes and icebergs.’”

– Icebergs! – Mitrich said mockingly. – We can understand that. It’s been ten years since there’s been any life. All Icebergs, Weissbergs, Eisenbergs, all sorts of Rabinoviches. Prakhin is right. Just take it all away – and that’s it. Especially since Luciya Frantsevna confirms what we say about the law.

“Throw the things down the stairs, to hell with them!” exclaimed the former prince, now a working man of the East, citizen Giginishvili, in a deep voice.

Varvara was quickly pecked at, and she ran to complain to her husband.

– Maybe that’s how it should be, – replied the husband, raising his voice.little beard– perhaps, through the mouth of an ordinary man, Mitrich, a great down-to-earth truth is spoken. Just think about the role of the Russian intelligentsia, and its significance.Пожалуйста, предоставьте текст для перевода.

On that great day when the icebreakers finally reached the tent of Sevrugov, citizen Gigenishvili broke the lock on the Sevrugov door and threw all of the hero’s belongings into the corridor, including the red propeller that had been hanging on the wall. Dunya moved into the room, immediately allowing six lodgers in for a fee. All night long, a feast took place in the conquered area. Nikita Pryakhin played the harmonica, and Chamberlain Mitrich danced.Russianwith drunk Aunt Pasha.

If Sevryugov had a little less of the worldwide fame he gained from his remarkable flights over the Arctic, he would never have seen his room; he would have been sucked in by the centripetal force of litigation and would have called himself not “brave Sevryugov,” not “the ice hero,” but “the aggrieved party” until his dying day. But this time, “Voronya Slobodka” was thoroughly pinched. The room was returned (Sevryugov soon moved to a new house), and the brave Giginishvili spent four months in prison for his misconduct and returned from there as angry as a devil.

It was he who gave the orphaned Lokhankin his first introduction to the necessity of regularly putting out the fire.Text for translation: itself.the light leaving the restroom. At that moment, his eyes were decidedly devilish. The absent-minded Lokhankin did not grasp the significance of the protest made by citizen Gigenishvili, and thus he missed the beginning of the conflict that soon led to a horrifying situation, unprecedented even in housing practice.,.event.

Here’s how things turned out. Vasisauliy Andreevich still kept forgetting to turn off the lights in the common areas. And could he really remember such trivialities of daily life when his wife had left, when he was left with not a penny to his name, when the diverse meaning of the Russian intelligentsia had not yet been fully understood?Текст для перевода: ..Could he have thought that the pitiful bronze glow of the eight-candle lamp would evoke such a strong feeling in the neighbors?Текст для перевода: ..At first, he was warned several times a day. Then they sent a letter drafted by Mitrich and signed by all the residents. Finally, they stopped warning him and no longer sent letters. Lohanin still did not grasp the significance of what was happening, but he vaguely sensed that some kind of ring was about to close in on him.

On Tuesday evening, Teti Pasha’s girl rushed in and reported in one breath:

“They’re saying for the last time to put it out.”

But somehow it happened that Vasisauliy Andreevich forgot again, and the light bulb continued to shine criminally through the cobwebs and dirt. The apartment sighed. A minute later, a certain Mr. Gigienishvili appeared in the doorway of the Lohankin’s room. He was wearing blue canvas boots and a flat cap made of brown sheepskin.

“Let’s go,” he said, beckoning Vasisauliya with his finger.

He took his hand firmly.и.led down the dark corridor, where VasisauliyAndreevichFor some reason, I started to feel a bit down and even began to lightly kick and strike.along the backpushed him ontothe middlekitchens. Clinging to the laundry ropes, Lokhankin managed to keep his balance and glanced around in fear. The entire apartment had gathered here. In silence stood Lyutsiya Frantsevna Pferd. Purple chemical wrinkles lay on the authoritative face of the responsible tenant. Next to her, looking glum, sat tipsy Aunt Pasha on the stove. Smirking, barefoot Nikita Pryakhin watched the intimidated Lokhankin. From the attic, the head of nobody’s grandmother hung down. Dunya was signaling to Mitrich. The former chamberlain of the courtHis Imperial Majestysmiled, hiding something behind his back.

“– What? Is there going to be a general meeting?” Vasisauliy Andreevich asked in a thin voice.

“Yes, yes,” said Nikita Pryakhin, approaching Lokhankin.– EverythingYou will have coffee, and cocoa too.Текст для перевода: ..“Lie down!” he suddenly shouted, breathing on Vasisauliy with something that smelled like either vodka or turpentine.

“– In what sense should I lie down?” asked Vasisauliy Andreevich, starting to tremble.

– What is there to talk about with a bad person? – said citizen Gigenishvili.

And, crouching down, he began to rummage around Lohan’s waist, unfastening the suspenders.

“Help!” – in a whisper.saidVasisualiy cast a mad glance at Lyutsiya Frantsevna.

– The light should have been turned off.,.“Citizen Pferd replied sternly.”

“We’re not bourgeois wasting electricity,” added Chamberlain Mitrich, dipping something into a bucket of water.

– I’m not to blame.,.“– Lohanin squeaked, breaking free from the hands of the former prince, now a laborer in the East.”

– Everyone is innocent.,.– Nikita mumbled, holding onto the trembling tenant.

– I didn’t do anything like that.

– They didn’t do anything like that.

– I have a deep depression.

– Everyone has a soul.

– You mustn’t touch me. I’m anemic.

– Everyone, everyone is anemic.

“– My wife left me!” Vasisauliy cried out.

“Everyone’s wife has left,” replied Nikita Pryakhin.

– Come on, come on, Nikitushka.,.“With a fuss,” said the chamberlain Mitrich, bringing out the wet, shiny birch twigs into the light., – forWe won’t manage to solve things just by talking.

Vasisauliya Andreevich was laid on his stomach on the floor. His legs glowed with a milky light.CitizenGigenishvili swung with all his might, and the switch cracked sharply.squeakedin the air.

– Mommy! –zavizhalVasisuvaliy.

– Everyone has a mom! – Nikita said instructively, pressing Lohan’s knee with his own.

And then Vasisauliy suddenly fell silent.

“Maybe this is how it has to be,” he thought, flinching from the blows and examining the dark, armored nails on Nikita’s foot., – maybeit is precisely in this that redemption, purification, and the great sacrifice lieIt seems that there is no text provided for translation. Please provide the text you would like me to translate.

And while they were whipping him, while Dunya was awkwardly laughing, the grandmother was shouting from the attic: “That’s it, poor thing, that’s it, my dear!”The text does not contain any translatable parts.Vasisauliy Andreevich was deep in thought about the significance of the Russian intelligentsia and how Galileo also suffered for the truth.

The last to take the whips was Mitrich.

“Let me try,” he said, raising his hand. “I’ll give him a good thrashing.”

But Lokhankin didn’t get to taste the chamberlain’s wine. A knock came at the back door. Dunya rushed to open it. (The main entrance to “Raven’s Lane” had long been boarded up because the residents couldn’t agree on who should be the first to clean the stairs. For the same reason, the bathroom was also tightly locked.)

– Vasisauliy Andreevich, an unfamiliar man is asking for you, – said Dunya as if nothing had happened.

And everyone really saw a stranger standing in the doorway, a man in white gentleman’s trousers. Vasisauliy Andreyevich jumped up quickly, adjusted his outfit, and with an unnecessary smile turned his face towards the entering Bender.

“Am I interrupting you?” the great schemer asked politely, squinting.

“Yes, yes,” Lohanin mumbled, shuffling.with legsWell, you see, I was, how should I put it, a bit busy here… But… it seems…Пожалуйста, предоставьте текст, который вы хотите перевести.I’m already free.The text for translation: ?…

He looked around inquisitively. But there was no one left in the kitchen except Aunt Pasha, who had fallen asleep at the stove during the execution. On the wooden floor lay some stray twigs and a white cloth button with two holes.

– Please come to me.

“Maybe I distracted you after all?” Ostap asked, finding himself in the first room of Lokhankin’s office. “No? Well, good. So, is this your ‘S. d. pr. com. v. ud. v. n. m. od. in. hol.’? And does it actually have ‘pr.’ and ‘v. ud.’?”

“That’s absolutely right,” Vasisauliy perked up, “a wonderful room, all the amenities. And I won’t charge much. Fifty rubles a month.”

“I won’t haggle,” Ostap said politely, “but what about the neighbors? How are they?”

– Wonderful people, – replied Vasisauliy, – and overall, all the conveniences. And the price is cheap.

– But it seems they have introduced…in this apartmentcorporal punishment?

– Ah, – said Lokhankin with deep feeling, – after all, who really knows?!.Maybe it has to be this way.!Perhaps this is where the great down-to-earth truth lies.!

“Sermazyan?” Bender repeated thoughtfully. “Isn’t it rustic, handwoven, and sturdy? Right, right. So, tell me, from which class of gymnasium were you expelled for poor performance? The sixth?”

“From the fifth,” replied Lokhankin.

– Golden class!.So, you didn’t get to Kraevich’s physics? And since then, you’ve been leading an exclusively intellectual lifestyle? Anyway, I don’t really care.TomorrowI’m moving in with you.

“– And the deposit?” asked the former gymnasium student.

“You’re not in church, you won’t be deceived.”funnysaid the great schemer. “There will be a deposit. In due time.”

Chapter Fourteen

When Ostap returned to the “Karlsbad” hotel and, reflected an infinite number of times in the lobby, staircase, and corridor mirrors that such establishments love to adorn themselves with, he entered his room and was taken aback by the disorder that reigned there. The red plush armchair lay upside down on its short legs, revealing its unattractive jute underside. The velvet tablecloth with fringes had slipped off the table. Even the painting “The Appearance of Christ to the People” was askew, losing much of the instructive quality that the artist had intended. A fresh steamboat breeze blew in from the balcony, scattering the banknotes strewn across the bed. Among them lay an iron box of “Caucasus” cigarettes. On the carpet, Panikovsky and Balaganov were rolling around silently, tangled up and kicking their legs.

The great combinator disdainfully stepped over the fighting people and went out onto the balcony. Below, on the boulevard, the strollers were babbling madly.grindingUnderfoot, there was gravel, and above the black maples, the breath of a symphonic orchestra floated. In the dark depths of the port, a building refrigerator boasted its lights and clanged with iron. Beyond the breakwater, an invisible steamboat roared and seemed to demand something, probably.,.he asked to go to the harbor.

Returning to the room, Ostap saw that the milk brothers were already sitting opposite each other on the floor, tiredly pushing each other away with their palms and mumbling, “Who are you?”

“Did you not share?” he asked.Ostap.,
pulling the curtain.

Panikovsky and Balaganov quickly jumped to their feet and began to tell their stories. Each of them claimed all the success for themselves and painted the other’s actions in a negative light. They both conveniently omitted any embarrassing details about themselves, instead providing a wealth of information that portrayed their youthfulness and resourcefulness in a favorable light.

– Well, that’s enough.,.“said Ostap”, –
noKnock your bald head on the parquet floor. The picture of the battle is clear to me. So you say he had a girlfriend? That’s good. So, the little clerk casually carries in his pocket… you seem to have already counted? How much is there? Wow! Ten thousand!SalaryMr. Koreiko after twenty years of impeccable service. A sight for the gods, as the smartest leaders write. But did I interrupt you? Were you doing something here on the floor? Were you dividing money? Go on, go on, I’ll just watch.

“I wanted to be fair,” said Balaganov, gathering the money from the bed, “to be just. Everyone should get an equal share.”The text for translation: ,.по две сhalfthousands.

And, having divided the money into four partsthe samehe modestly stepped aside, saying:

– To you, me, him, and Kozlevich.

– Very well, – noted Ostap. – And now let Panikovsky divide it; it seems he has a special opinion on the matter.

With a special opinion in mind, Panikovsky threw himself into the task with great enthusiasm. Leaning over the bed, he moved his thick lips, drooled on his fingers, and endlessly shuffled papers from one place to another, as if he were organizing them.Big
Royalsolitaire. After all the
tricks, three piles formed on the blanket: one – large, made of clean
new bills, the second – the same size, but made of dirtier bills, and
the third – small.и.completely dirty.

“– We each get four thousand,” he said to Bender, “but Balaganov gets two. He didn’t even earn that much.”

– And what about Kozlevich? – asked Balaganov, closing his eyes in anger.

– What does Kozlevich have to do with it? – squealed Panikovsky. – This is robbery! Who is Kozlevich to share with?!.I don’t know any Kozlevich.!.

“Is that all?” asked the great schemer.

– That’s it, – replied Panikovsky, not taking his eyes off the stack of clean papers. – What could Kozlevich possibly want at this moment?

– And now I will be the one to divide, – said Ostap in a businesslike manner.

He leisurely combined the piles into one, putting the money into a metal box.and stuffed the little box intothe pocket of whitesgentlemanlyText for translation: trousers..

– All this money, – he concluded, – will be returned immediately to the victim, citizen Koreyko. Do you like this way of dividing things?

– No, I don’t like it.!– it slipped out of Panikovsky.

“Stop joking, Bender.”!“That’s not fair,” Balaganov said. “We need to divide it justly.”

– That won’t happen, – Ostap said coldly. – And in general…The text for translation: ,.At this midnight hour, I’m not in the mood for jokes with you.

Panikovsky waved his aged, purplish hands. He looked at the great schemer in horror, stepped back into a corner, and fell silent. Occasionally, a golden tooth of the convention violator would flash from there.

Balanov’s face immediately became wet, as if it had been cooked in the sun.

– Why did we even work? – he said, catching his breath. – This can’t go on. It’s…Explain…

– To you, – Ostap said politely, – the beloved son of a lieutenant, I can only repeat what I said in Arbatovo. I respect the Criminal Code. I am not a bandit, but an ideological fighter for monetary signs. Robbery does not fit into my four hundred honest ways of taking money; it just doesn’t add up. Besides, we didn’t come here for ten thousand. I personally need at least five hundred of those thousands.

“Why did you send us?” Balaganov asked, cooling down. “We tried…”

– In other words, you want to ask whether the esteemed commander is aware of the purpose behind his last operation? To that, I will answer – yes, he is aware. The thing is…

At that moment, in the corner, a golden tooth went out. Panikovsky turned around, lowered his head, and…with a scream ““Who do you think you are?” he shouted, losing his composure, and lunged at Ostap. Without changing his stance or even turning his head, the great con artist pushed back.assembledThe rubber fist returned the enraged violator of the convention to his previous
place and continued:

– The thing is, Shura, that it was a test.salaryI found ten thousand rubles in my pocket, which is a bit strange and gives us a great opportunity, allowing us, as marathon runners and running enthusiasts say, to hope for a big win. Five hundred thousand is definitely a big win. And we will get it this way. I will return…To the loin.ten thousand, andhe will takeI would like to see the person who didn’t take it.your ownmoney. And here it isтут.his end will come. Greed will be his downfall. And as soon as he realizes his wealth, I will take it from him with my bare hands. As a smart man, he will understand that a part is less than the whole, and he will give me that part out of fear of losing everything. And here, Shura, the scene unfolds.will appeara certain little plate withsomewhatwith a border…

“That’s right!” exclaimed Balaganov.Wonderful!

In the corner, Panikovsky was crying.

“Give me my money,” he lisped, “I’m completely broke. I haven’t been to the bathhouse in a year. I’m old. Girls don’t like me.”

– Contact the World Health Organization.League of Sexual Reforms“Maybe there,” said Bender.you.They will help.

– No one loves me, – Panikovsky continued, shuddering.

– Why should anyone love you? Girls like you aren’t loved. They prefer young, tall, politically savvy guys. And you’ll be gone soon. And no one will write.о.You are in the newspaper: “Another one burned out at work.” And there won’t be a beautiful widow with Persian eyes sitting at the grave. And the tearful children won’t be asking, “Daddy, daddy, can you hear us?”

“Don’t say that!” shouted the frightened Panikovsky. “I will outlive all of you. You don’t know Panikovsky.”will sell everyone outand
will buy. Give me my money back.!

– You better tell me, are you going to serve or not? This is the last time I’m asking.!

– I will.!.“answered Panikovsky, wiping away his slow, old man’s tears.”

* * *

Night, night, night lay over the entire country.

In the Black Sea port, the cranes turned easily.loweringsteel cables into the deep holds of the foreigners, and again they turned to carefully lower the pine crates with equipment onto the dock with a cat-like tenderness.for TraktorostroyThe pink comet fire burst from the tall chimneys of the silicate factories. The star clusters of Dneprostroi, Magnitogorsk, and Stalingrad were ablaze. In the north, the Krasnoputilov star rose., for.A great multitude of first-magnitude stars lit up. There were factories, combines, power plants, and new buildings. The entire five-year plan shone brightly, overshadowing the sky that had long been familiar to the Egyptians.

And the young man,sitting too longwith my beloved in the work club, I hurriedly lit up the electrified five-year plan map and whispered:

– Look, there’s a red light over there. That’s where Sibkombain will be. We’re going there. Do you want to?

And my beloved laughed softly, freeing her hands.

Night, night, night, as has already been said, lay over the entire country.

Moaned in his sleep.monotonouslyKhvorobyev, who dreamed of a huge union book. On the train, in the upper bunk, snored engineer Talmudovsky, traveling from Kharkiv to Rostov, where his best salary was calling him.salariesAmerican gentlemen were swaying on the broad Atlantic wave, taking away…“dry”the homeland recipe for wonderful wheat
moonshine. Vasisiualy Lokhankin was tossing on his couch, rubbing his hand
over the sore spots. The old puzzle maker Sinitsky was wasting electricity, creating a mysterious picture for
the magazine “Water Supply Affairs”: “Where is the chairman of this
general meeting of workers and employees gathered for the election of the local committee of the pumping
station?” He tried to be quiet so as not to wake Zosya. Polyakhov
was lying in bed with Serna Mikhailovna. The other Hercules members were sleeping fitfully
in different parts of the city. Alexander Ivanovich Koreiko couldn’t fall asleep, tormented
by thoughts of his wealth. If it weren’t for that wealth at all, he would sleep
peacefully. What were Bender, Balaganov, andPanikovsky is already here.It is known. And only about Kozlevich, the driver and owner.WildebeestsNothing will be said right now, although trouble of an extremely political nature has already struck him.

* * *

Early in the morning, Bender opened his obstetric bag, took out a police cap with the emblem of the city of Kyiv, stuffed it into his pocket, and set off to see Alexander Ivanovich Koreiko. On the way, he teased the milkmaids, for their time had come, while the time for the clerks had not yet begun, and he hummed the words of a romance: “And the joy of our first meeting no longer stirs my blood.” The great schemer was being a bit disingenuous. The firstdateThe thought of a millionaire bureaucrat excited him. Entering house number 16 on Malaya Kasatelnaya Street, he put on an official cap and, furrowing his brows, knocked on the door.

In the middle of the room stood Alexander Ivanovich. He was wearing a sleeveless mesh shirt and had managed to…already.to put onwidow’sthe trousers of a minor clerk. The room was furnished with a kind of modest poverty typical of pre-revolutionary times in orphanages and similar organizations that were under the patronage of Empress Maria Feodorovna. There were three items here: an iron hospital bed, a kitchen table with doors secured by a wooden latch, like those used to lock summer house toilets, and a shabby Viennese chair. In the corner lay dumbbells and among them two large kettlebells, a delight for a weightlifter.

At the sight of the police officer, Alexander Ivanovich stepped heavily forward.

– Citizen Koreiko? – asked Ostap, beaming with a radiant smile.

“I,” replied Alexander Ivanovich, also expressing his joy at meeting with a representative of the authorities.

– Alexander Ivanovich? – Ostap inquired, smiling even more brightly.

“Exactly,” confirmed Koreiko, stoking his joy as much as possible.

After that, the great combinator had only to sit on a Viennese chair and put on a supernatural smile. Having done all this, he looked at Alexander Ivanovich. But the millionaire office worker tensed up and displayed a mix of emotions that was hard to decipher: a blend of tenderness, delight, admiration, and silent adoration. And all of this was in response to the happy encounter with a representative of the authorities.

The growing abundance of smiles and feelings resembled a manuscript by composer Franz Liszt, where the first page statesThe text for translation: «.“play fast,” on the second – “very fast,” on the third – “much faster,” on the fourth – “as fast as possible,”а.After all, on the fifth one – “even faster.”

Seeing that Koreiko had reached the fifth page and further competition was impossible, Ostap got down to business.The text for translation: :.

– I actually have a task for you, – he said, becoming serious.

“Please, please,” noted Alexander Ivanovich.also becoming hazyТекст для перевода: ..

– We want to make you happy.

– It will be interesting to find out.

And, feeling immeasurably sad, Bender reached into his pocket. Koreiko watched his actions with a face that was already funeral-like. An iron box from the “Caucasus” cigarettes appeared. However, the expected exclamation of surprise from Ostap did not follow. The underground millionaire looked at the box with complete indifference. Ostap took out the money, carefully counted it, and, pushing the stack towards Alexander Ivanovich, said:

– Exactly ten thousand. Please write a receipt for the payment.

– You are mistaken, comrade, – said Koreiko very quietly., – whatTen thousand? What receipt?

– What kind?!.After all, you were robbed yesterday.!

– No one robbed me.

– How could they not have robbed us?!.–.got nervousOstap: Yesterday by the sea. And they took ten thousand. The robbers have been arrested. Write a receipt.

“Yes, I swear, no one robbed me,” said Koreiko, a fleeting glimmer of light passing across his face. “There’s a clear mistake here.”

Not yet fully grasping the depths of his defeat, the great schemer allowed himself an indecent flurry of activity, something he would always remember later with shame. He insisted, got angry, and shoved money into people’s hands.Alexander IvanovichAnd in general, as the Chinese say, he lost face.
Koreiko shrugged, smiled politely, but didn’t take any money.

– So, you’re not…robbed?.

– No one robbed me.

– And they didn’t take ten thousand from you?

– Of course, I didn’t take it. Well, where do you think I could possibly get that much money?

“That’s right, that’s right,” Ostap said, cooling down. “Where does a lowly clerk get such a pile of money?”!So, everything is okay with you?

– That’s it.,.– replied the millionaire with a charming smile.

“Is your stomach okay?” Ostap asked, smiling even more charmingly.

– Absolutely. You know, I’m a very healthy person.

– And heavy.dreams n.Are they tormenting you?

– No, they don’t torment me.

From then on, everything regarding smiles went just like with Liszt.:.quickly, very quickly, much faster, quickly
as soon as possible and even faster. New acquaintances said goodbye as if they had not
expected to find kindred spirits in each other.

“Don’t forget the police cap,” said Alexander Ivanovich., – sheon the table is left.

– Don’t eat raw food at night.tomato“… advised Ostap, “to avoid harming the stomach.”

“All the best,” said Koreiko, happily.taking my leave.

“Goodbye, goodbye,” replied Ostap, “you are an interesting person.”Текст для перевода: ..Everything is fine with you.. S.such happiness – and free!

And still wearing an unnecessary smile on his face, the great schemer rushed out onto the street. He walked briskly for several blocks, forgetting that he was wearing an official cap adorned with the emblem of the city of Kyiv, which was completely out of place in the city of Chornomorsk. It was only when he found himself in a crowd of respectable old men chatting in front of the covered veranda of the Narpyta canteen No. 68 that he came to his senses and began to calmly weigh his options.

While he was lost in thought, absentmindedly pacing back and forth, the old men continued with their daily routine.

They were strange and funny people for our time. Almost all of them were wearing white pique vests and straw hats.“canotier”Some even wore hats made of darkened Panama straw. And, of course, everyone had yellowed starched collars from which hairy chicken necks emerged. Here, at Canteen No. 68, where the renowned café “Florida” used to be, gathered the remnants of pre-war commercial Black Sea: brokers left without their offices, commission agents who had withered due to the lack of commissions, bread agents, accountants who had lost their minds, and other riffraff. Once, they gathered here to make deals. Now, they were drawn to this sunny corner by a long-standing habit and the need to scratch old itches. They read the Moscow “Pravda” daily.LocalThey did not respect the press.. I.Everything, no matter what was happening in the world, the old folks viewed as a prelude to declaring Chernomorsk a free city. Once, about a hundred years ago, Chernomorsk was indeed a free city, and it was so fun and profitable that the legend of“Porto Franco”still cast a golden shimmer on the lightcorner café“Florida.”

“Have you read about the disarmament conference?” one bowler-hatted gentleman asked another. “The speech by Count Bernstorff…”?.

–.Oh, Bernstorff is…“Head!” the questioned vest replied in a tone that suggested he had come to this conclusion based on his long acquaintance with the count. “Have you read the speech Snowden gave at the voters’ meeting in Birmingham, that stronghold of conservatives?”

– Well, what is there to talk about?!.Snowden is the head.Текст для перевода: ..“Listen, Valiadis,” he addressed the third old man in the Panama hat. “What do you think about Snowden?”

“I’ll be honest with you,” replied the panama hat, “don’t put your finger in Snowden’s mouth. I personally wouldn’t put my finger in there.”

And, without the slightest embarrassment that Snowden would never in a million years allow Valiadis to stick a finger in his mouth, the old man continued:

– But no matter what you say, I’ll tell you frankly – Chamberlain is still quite clever.

The tailcoats raised their shoulders. They did not deny that Chamberlain…after allAlso, the head. But most of all, it was Brian who comforted them.

– Brian! – they said passionately. – Now that’s a brain! He has his project…Pan.–Europe…

“I’ll be frank with you, Monsieur Funt,” whispered Valiadis, “everything is fine. Benesh has already agreed to…”Pan.– Europe, but do you know under what condition?

The pikey vests gathered closer and stretched their chicken necks.

– On the condition that Chornomorsk is declared a free city. Benesh is the head. After all, they need to sell their agricultural tools to someone, right? Here we are.их.and we will buy.

At this message, the old people’s eyes sparkled. For many years, they had wanted to buy and sell.

– Brian is the brains.The text for translation: ,.– they saidall., sighing. –And Benesh too.head.

When Ostap came to his senses, he saw that an unfamiliar old man in a crushed straw hat with a greasy black ribbon was holding him tightly by the lapel of his jacket.Tethered tieIt slid to the side, and right at Ostap was looking a copper cufflink.

“I’m telling you,” the old man shouted into the ear of the great schemer, “that McDonald won’t take the bait! He won’t fall for it!”Текст для перевода: ..Do you hear that?

Ostap pushed aside the boiling old man and made his way out of the crowd.

– Mussolini, though a thug, is a smart guy! – Ostap heard behind him. – Hoover is a smart guy too!..

By this time, Ostap had already made his decision. He had gone through all four hundred honest ways to take money in his head, and although among them were gems like organizing a joint-stock company to raise a ship sunk during the Crimean War with a cargo of gold, or a grand Maslenitsa…strollin favor of the capital prisoners, or a concession for the removal of store signs – none of them suited the situation. And Ostap came up with the four hundred and first way.

“Taking the fortress by surprise didn’t work,” he thought, “we’ll have to start a proper siege. The most important thing is established. The client has money. And judging by the fact that he didn’t hesitate to refuse ten thousand…”moneyhuge.
So, due to the lack of agreement between the parties, the meeting continues.”

He returned home, having bought a sturdy yellow folder with shoelaces along the way.

“Well?” asked Balaganov and Panikovsky in unison, weary with desire.

Ostap silently walked over to the bamboo table, placed a folder in front of him, and wrote in large letters:

“The case of Alexander Ivanovich Koreiko. Initiated on June 25, 1930. Completed on the …………. day of 193….”Текст для перевода: ..

“What’s inside?” asked the curious Panikovsky.

– Oh! – said Ostap. – Inside, there’s everything: palm trees, girls, blue express trains, the blue sea, a white steamboat, a slightly worn tuxedo, a Japanese footman,countess wife,ownbilliardsplatinum teeth, whole socks, meals cooked in pure animal fat, and, most importantly, my little friends, the glory and power that money brings.

And he revealed.folder.before the astonished antelope hunters.

It was empty.

Chapter Fifteen

There lived a poor private trader in the world. He was quite a wealthy man, the owner of a haberdashery located diagonally across from the cinema “Kapitaliy.” He peacefully sold linens, lace trimmings, and ties,gartersand other small but profitable goods. One evening, he came home with a distorted face. Silently, he went to the sideboard, took out a whole cold chicken, and while pacing around the room, ate the entire thing. After that, he opened the sideboard again, pulled out a whole ring of Krakow sausage weighing exactly half a kilo, sat down on a chair, and, staring blankly at one point, slowly chewed through the entire half kilo. When he reached for the hard-boiled eggs that were on the table, his wife asked in alarm:

– What happened, Borya?

– Misfortune,.“he replied, stuffing it into his mouth”thirdrubber egg. –
I’m terriblesurroundedYou can’t even imagine it.!

– Why do you eat so much?

“I need to have some fun,” the private said in response., –
to mescary.

And all night the private individual walked through his rooms, where there were eight chiffoniers, and ate. He ate everything that was in the house. He was scared.

The next day, he rented out half of the store for selling stationery supplies. Now inin a store windowthere were ties and suspenders, and infriendHanging by two little strings was a huge yellow pencil.

Then came even more turbulent times. A third co-owner appeared in the store. He was a master watchmaker,overcomingThe pencil was pushed aside, taking up half the window, alongside bronze clocks featuring a figure of Psyche, but missing the minute hand. Opposite the poor haberdasher, who couldn’t stop smiling ironically, sat not only the detestable pencil holder but also a watchmaker with a black magnifying glass stuck in his eye.

The unfortunate one visited the haberdasher two more times.misfortuneIn the store, a plumber entered right away, who immediately lit some kind of soldering iron, and a rather strange merchant, who decided that in the year 1930 AD, the population of Chernomorsk would pounce on his goods – starch collars.

And once proud, the calm sign of the haberdasher took on a disgusting appearance.:.

Trade in haberdashery goods:

GALANTPROM

B.Cultural Trigger

Repair of various watches

Pavel Bure

Glazius-Shenker

КАНЦБУМ

Everything for the artist and the civil servant.

Lev Sokolovsky

Repair of pipes, sinks, and toilets

M. N. Titanyuk

The specialty of starch collars from Leningrad.

Karl Ukusinen

Customers and clients entered the once fragrant store with trepidation. The watchmaker Glazius-Shenker, surrounded by gears, pince-nez, and springs, sat beneath the clocks, among which were some tower clocks. Alarm clocks rang sharply and frequently throughout the store. In the back of the shop, a group of schoolchildren gathered, inquiring about the scarce notebooks. KarlUcusinenHe was trimming his collars with scissors, passing the time waiting for customers. And before the courteous B. Kulturetrigger could ask the buyer, “What would you like?”, a plumber…TitanukHe was banging a hammer against a rusty pipe, and the soot from the blowtorch was settling on the delicate leather goods.

In the end, the strange combination of private individuals fell apart, and Karl…BittenHe left in a cab into the darkness, taking his…dissonantthe era of goods. Behind itGALANTPROM and KANCBUM have sunk., which the mounted tax inspectors were chasing.TitanukHe became an alcoholic. Glazius-Shenker joined the watchmaking team.New TimeThe corrugated iron shutters fell with a clatter. The interesting sign has also disappeared.

Soon, however, the curtains rose again, and above the former arkprivate individuala small neat table appeared:

Black Sea branch of the Arbatov procurement office for horns and hooves.

The idle Black Sea dweller, peering into the shop, might have noticed that the counters and shelves had disappeared, the floor was freshly cleaned, there were office tables for eggs, and ordinary institutional posters about office hours and the dangers of handshakes hung on the walls. The newly emergedinstitutionHe had already crossed the barrier set up against the visitors, who, however, were not yet there. At a small table, on which a yellow samovar was steaming and thinly lamenting its samovar fate, sat a courier with a golden tooth. While he was polishing the tea cups, he irritably hummed: “What times have come now, what times have come now.”Пожалуйста, предоставьте текст, который вы хотите перевести.People have stopped believing in God.The text for translation: ,.“People have stopped believing in God.” Beyond the barrier, a red-haired young man was wandering. Occasionally, he approached the typewriter,hittingwith a thick, unbending finger on the key, and he burst into laughter. In the very depths of the office, under the sign “Head of the Department,” sat the great schemer, illuminated by the light of a plug lamp.

The “Karlsbad” hotel had long been abandoned. All the Antilopovites, except for Kozlevich, settled in “Voron’ya Slobodka” with Vasisiualy Lohanin, who was extremely scandalized by this. He even tried to protest, pointing out that he was renting a room not to three people, but to one –lonelyTo the bachelor. “Mon Dieu, Vasisauliy Andreevich,” Ostap replied carefreely, “don’t torment yourself. After all, I’m the only intelligent one among the three of us, so the condition is met.”!“To the further lamentations of the owner, Bender wisely replied: ‘Mine…”Got it.Dear Vasisauliy! Perhaps this is where the great down-to-earth truth lies.!Lohankin immediately calmed down after getting twenty rubles from Ostap. Panikovsky and Balaganov got along well in “Voron’ya Slobodka,” and their voices confidently blended into the overall chorus of the apartment. Panikovsky was even accused of siphoning kerosene from other people’s stoves at night. Mitrich didn’t miss the chance to make some comment to Ostap.grumpyThe remark prompted the great schemer to silently push him in the chest.

The horn and hoof harvesting company was established for many reasons.

– The investigation into the Koreiko case, – Ostap said, – could take a lot of time. How much, only God knows. And since there is no God, no one knows. It’s a terrible situation.!.Maybe a year, or perhaps just a month. In any case, we need legality. We need to blend in with the lively crowd of employees. All of thisgives.office. I have long been drawn to administrative activities. Deep down, I am a bureaucrat and a scatterbrain. We will prepare something very funny, like tea spoons, dog tags, or some quirky merchandise. Or horns and hooves. Wonderful! Horns and hooves for the needs of the comb and mouthpiece industry.!What’s wrong with being an institution? Besides, I have wonderful forms for every occasion in my little suitcase, along with a round, so-called wax seal.

The money that Koreiko renounced and which the fastidious Ostap deemed acceptable to appropriate was deposited in the bank into the current account of the new institution. Panikovsky was once again in an uproar and demanded…sharing, as a punishment
for which he was appointed tolow-paidand a humiliating position of courier, which was beneath his free-spirited nature. Balaganov was assigned the responsible post of hoof commissioner with a salary of92.rubles. An old Adler typewriter was bought at the market, but it was missing the letter “e,” so it had to bereplacewith the letter “e.” Therefore, the very first message sent by Ostap to the stationery store sounded like this:

The text for translation: «.Please release to the taxpayer his courier, Mr. Panikovsky, for the Black Sea branch, 150 rubles (one hundred fifty) worth of office supplies on credit, charged to the Administration in the city of Arbatovo.

Application: without attachmentsThe text for translation: ».Текст для перевода: ..

– Well, God has sent a fool appointed for hooves! – Ostap fumed. – You can’t entrust him with anything. He bought a machine with a Turkish accent.!So, I’m the head of the department? You’re a pig, Shura, after that!

But even the machine with its amazing pronunciation couldn’t overshadow the bright joy of the great schemer. He was really enjoying his new venture. Every hour, he would rush into the office with purchases. He brought such complex office machines and devices that the courier and the authorized representative could only gasp in astonishment. There were hole punchers, copying presses, a screw stool, and an expensive bronze inkwell shaped like several little houses for different colors of ink. This piece was called “Facing the Village” and cost one hundred and fifty rubles.(of course,
on credit, at the expense of a mythical government)At the center of it all was a cast-iron railway ticket puncher, requisitioned by Ostap from the passenger station. By the end, Bender had dragged in some branched deer antlers. Panikovsky, grunting and complaining about his low pay, nailed them above the chief’s desk. Everything was going well, even excellently. The only thing affecting the orderly work was the inexplicable absence of the car and its glorious driver.I am A.lady.Kazimirovich. The driver left the inn, and his tracks disappeared.

On the third day of the office’s existence, the first visitor arrived. To everyone’s surprise, it was the postman. He brought eight packages and, after chatting with the courier Panikovsky about that…The text for translation: ,.About that, he left. In the bags, though.it turned out:Three notices were sent urgently summoning the representative of the office
to meetings and sessions, and all three notices
emphasized that attendance was mandatory.; in.The other documents contained requests from unfamiliar but evidently active institutions for the submission of various types of information, estimates, and statements in multiple copies, all of which were also required urgently and mandatorily.

– What is this?!– shouted Ostap. –
Three more daysthe.I was a free
mountain eagle-vulture, flapping my wings wherever I wanted, but now, welcome –
attendance is mandatory! It turns out that in this city there are many people who
desperately need Ostap Bender. And then, who will handle all this correspondence with
friends? I’ll have to incur some expenses and rethink the staff. I need a knowledgeable
office clerk. Let her take care of the business.

Two hours later, a new trouble arose. A man came in with a heavy bag.

“Who will be receiving the horns?” he asked, dropping the load onto the floor.

The Great Combinatorwith fearHe looked at the visitor and his goodness. They were small, crooked, dirty horns, and Ostap gazed at them with disgust.

“Is the product good?” the branch manager asked cautiously.

“Look at these little horns!” the man exclaimed, bringing the yellow horn close to the nose of the great schemer. “These are top-quality horns, according to the standards.”

I had to buy a conditioned product. The guy then spent a long time drinking tea with Panikovsky and talking about village life, evoking in Ostap…substantialthe irritation of a person who has wasted fifteen rubles.

– If Panikovsky lets in another cuckold, – said Ostap, waiting for the visitor to leave, – I won’t serve Panikovsky anymore.!I will terminate without severance pay.!.And in general, we’ve had enough of government activities. It’s time to get down to business.!.

Hanging a sign that read “Lunch Break” on the glass door, the department head took a folder out of the cabinet, which supposedly contained a blue sea and a white steamboat, and, slapping it with his palm, said:

– This is what our company will be working on. Right now in
this “Dela.“There’s not a single leaf, but we will find the ends, even if it means sending Panikovsky and Balaganov on a mission to…”Karakumsands or somewhere in Kremenchuk for the investigative materials.

At that moment, the doorknob of the office rattled. Outside the glass, an old man was shuffling about.patchedin a Panama hat with white threads and a wide chintz jacket, from under which a patterned vest was visible. The old man stretched his chicken-like neck and pressed his large ear against the glass.

“Closed, closed!” Ostap shouted hurriedly. “Hoof preparation is temporarily suspended.”!

However, the old man continued to make gestures with his hands.He was pointing at himself with his finger, taking off and putting on his hat, and showing his impatience in every possible way.

If Ostap hadn’t let him innowIf it weren’t for the old white-vested man, perhaps the main storyline of the novel would have taken a different direction, and those amazing events that both the great schemer and his irritable courier had to participate in would never have happened.and to the authorized personby hooves, and many other people, including
somebodycoldto the philosopher, the granddaughter of the old puzzler, the famous public figure, the chiefHERCULESand alsoa person who struggled with their own duvetТекст для перевода: ..

But Ostap opened the door. The old man, smiling sadly, stepped over the barrier and sat down on a chair. He closed his eyes and sat silently in the chair for about five minutes. The only sounds were the short whistles that his pale nose emitted from time to time. When the office staff decided that the visitoralready.“Never will he speak again,” they whispered, consulting among themselves on how to most conveniently carry his body outside. The old man lifted his brown eyelids and said in a low voice:

– My last name is Funt. Funt.

– And you think that’s enough to break into…institutions,
closed“For lunch? – That’s funny,” said Bender.

“You’re laughing,” the old man replied, “but my last name is Funt. I’m ninety years old.”

“What is it that you want?” Ostap asked, starting to lose his patience.

But here, citizen Funt fell silent again and remained quiet for quite a long time.

“You have an office,” he finally said.

– Yes, yes, the office, – Ostap encouraged. – Keep going, keep going.!

But the old man only…stroked with his handto the knee.

“Do you see these pants I’m wearing?” he said after a long silence. “These are my Easter pants. I used to wear them only on Easter, but now I wear them every day.”

And despite Panikovsky slapping him on the back to encourage him to speak without delay, Funt fell silent again. He spoke quickly, but between phrases, he would pause for stretches that sometimes lasted up to three minutes. For people unaccustomed to this quirk of Funt’s, conversing with him was unbearable. Ostap was already preparing to grab Funt by his starched collar and show him the way out when the old man opened his mouth again. From that point on, the conversation took such an amusing turn that Ostap had to come to terms with Funt’s peculiar way of talking.

“Don’t you need a chairman?” he asked.old manТекст для перевода: ..

“Which chairman?” exclaimed Bender.

– Official. In a word, the head of the institution.

– I’m the head myself.

– So, you’re planning to sit it out by yourselves? You could have just said that right away.!Why have you been bothering me for two hours?

The old man in Easter pants got angry, but the pauses between the phrases didn’t decrease.

– I am a Pound, – he repeated with feeling. – I am ninety years old. I have spent my whole life suffering for others. That is my profession – to suffer for others.

– Oh, are you a front?

“Yes,” said the old man, shaking his head with dignity. “I am the deputy chairman Funt. I have always sat.”При.Alexandrasecond–.LiberatorThe text for translation: ,.when Chornomorsk was still a free city,during Alexander’s reignthe third – peacekeeperduring Nicholas the Second– bloodyТекст для перевода: ..

And the old man slowly curled his fingers, counting the kings.

“I was also in prison during Kerensky’s time. During the period of War Communism, I didn’t spend any time in prison, as pure commerce disappeared and there was no work. But I certainly spent time in prison during…”NEP.It seems like your message is incomplete. Could you please provide the full text you would like me to translate?NEP.Yes! Those were the best days of my life.!In four years, I spent no more than three months free. I married off my granddaughter, Golconda Evseevna, and gave her a concert piano, a silver bird, and eighty rubles in gold coins. And now I walk around and don’t recognize our Chernomorsk. Where is it all? Where is private capital? Where is the first mutual credit society? Where, I ask you, is the second mutual credit society? Where?partnershipOn faith? Where are the joint-stock companies with mixed capital? Where is all of this?Outrageous.!.

This short speech lasted relatively briefly – half an hour. Listening to Funt, Panikovsky was moved. He took Balaganov aside and whispered respectfully:

“You can immediately tell a person from an earlier time.”!.There are no longer any like that, and soon there will be none at all.!.

And he kindly handed the old man a mug of sweet drink.tea.Пожалуйста, предоставьте текст, который вы хотите перевести.

Ostap dragged the zits-chairman over to his desk, ordered the office to be closed, and began patiently interrogating the eternal prisoner who had given his life for…your friendsThe deputy chairman spoke with pleasure. If he hadn’t taken such long pauses between phrases, one could even say that he was chattering away non-stop.

–.And you.“Do you know someone named Koreiko, Alexander Ivanovich?” Ostap asked, glancing at the folder with shoelaces.

“I don’t know,” the old man replied. “Something like that…”I.I don’t know.

– And with.HERCULESDid you have any business to attend to?

At the wordHERCULESThe deputy chairman shifted slightly. This light…movementOstap didn’t even notice, but if anyone else in his place—like any old-timer from the “Florida” café who knew Funt well, for example, Valiadis—had been there, they would have thought, “Funt is terribly worked up; he’s completely beside himself.”!The text for translation: ».

How.A pound cannot to knowHERCULES, if the last four sentences were directly related to this institution! AroundHERCULESSeveral private joint-stock companies were involved. For example, there was a company called “Intensivnik.” The chairman was invited, Funt. “Intensivnik”receivedот.HERCULESa large advance for the procurement of something forest-related,.The deputy chairman is not obliged to know what exactly. And now it has burst. Someone scooped it up.money, and the Pound sat down for six months. After the “Intensive” a fellowship called “Labor Cedar” was formed.The text for translation: ,.of course, under the chairmanship of the respectable Funt. Naturally, the advance inHERCULESfor the supply of aged cedar. Of course, it was an unexpected crash; someone got rich, while Funt is fulfilling his role as chairman – just sitting there. Then “Pilopomoshch” –HERCULES– Advance – collapse – someone scooped it up – prison time. Andanother advance–.“HERCULES”– “Southern Lumberjack” – for Funt
a break – a treat for someone.

“Who then?” Ostap pressed, pacing around the old man. “Who was actually in charge?”

The old man silently sipped tea from his mug, struggling to lift his heavy eyelids.

“Who knows?” he said sadly. “They kept everything from the Pound. I just have to sit here; that’s my job. I sat with Alexander.”second, and atthird, and during the time of Nikolai Alexandrovich Romanov, and under Alexander Fyodorovich Kerensky.NEP.,.и.до
угараNEP., both during the high and after it. And now I’m unemployed
and have to wear Easter pants.

Ostap continued to squeeze words out of the old man for a long time. He acted like a prospector, tirelessly washing tons of dirt and sand to find a few golden nuggets at the bottom. He nudged Funt with his shoulder, woke him up, and even tickled him under the arms. After all these antics, he managed to find out that, in Funt’s opinion, behind all the collapsed societies and partnerships, there was undoubtedly some single figure hiding. As forHERCULES, then they squeezed out not just hundreds of thousands from him.

– In any case, – added the old vice-chairman, – in any case, this unknown person is the head.!.Do you know Valiadis? I wouldn’t trust this person with a finger in their mouth.

“– And what about Brian?” – Ostap asked.The text for translation: ,.With a smile, I recalled the meeting of the “Pikey Jackets” at the former café “Florida.” – Would Valiadis put his finger in Brian’s mouth? What do you think?

– No way! – replied Funt. – Brian is the brains.!

For three minutes, he silently moved his lips, and then he added:

– Hoover is the head. And Hindenburg –это.head. Hoover and Hindenburg are two heads.

Ostap was seized by fear. The oldest of the pikey vests was sinking into the quagmire of high politics. At any moment, he could start talking about the Kellogg Pact or the Spanish dictator Primo de Rivera, and then no force could distract him from this esteemed pursuit. An idiotic gleam had already appeared in his eyes, and his yellowish starched collar was trembling, heralding the birth of a new phrase, when Bender unscrewed the light bulb and threw it on the floor. The bulb shattered with the cold crack of a gunshot. And it was only this incident that distracted the zitspredsedatel from international affairs. Ostap quickly took advantage of this.

– But with someone fromHERCULES“Did you two meet after all?” he asked. “About the advance?”

– The only one I dealt with was the Hercules accountant from Berlag. He was with them on…grantsI don’t know anything. They kept everything from me. People need me for…seatsI lived under the tsarist regime, during socialism, under the hetman, and during the French occupation. Briand is the head.!.

There was nothing more to be squeezed out of the old man. But even what had been said provided a chance to begin.search.Текст для перевода: ..

“You can feel Koreiko’s influence here.”,.–.Thought.Ostap.“– and even if it’s not him, the figure is quite substantial.”Текст для перевода: ..

Head of the Black Sea DivisionArbatovskayaThe office for the procurement of horns and hooves sat down at the table and transcribed the speech of the deputy chairman, Funt, onto paper. He omitted the discussions about the relationship between Valiadis and Brian.

The first page of the underground investigation into the underground millionaire was numbered, punched in the appropriate places, and attached to the case file.

“Well, are you going to take a chairman?” the old man asked, putting on his patched-up hat. “I can see that your office needs a chairman.”And I take…inexpensive:120.rubles a month on the loose and240.in prison.
A hundred percent increaseза.harmfulness.

“Well, let’s take it,” Ostap said. “Submit the application to the hoof commissioner.”Tomorrow morning, come to work, but don’t be late; we have strict rules. This isn’t “Intensivnik” or “Labor Cedar.”

Chapter Sixteen

The workday in the finance and accounting department of HERCULES began, as usual, right at nine o’clock. Already, Kukushkind had lifted the hem of his jacket to wipe the lenses of his glasses, while also letting his colleagues know that working at the trading house “Sikomorsky and Tsesarovich” was far more peaceful than in the Herculesean Sodom. Borisokhlebsky had already turned on his swivel stool towards the wall and reached out to tear off a page from the calendar, and Lapidus Jr. had already opened his mouth for a piece of bread smeared with herring paste—when the door swung open and none other than accountant Berlag appeared in the doorway.

This unexpected entrée caused confusion in the finance hall.BorisokhlebskyHe slipped on his spiral plate, and for the first time in maybe three years, the calendar page remained unpeeled. Lapidus Jr., forgetting to take a bite of his sandwich, moved his jaw aimlessly. Dreyfus, Chevazhevskaya, and Sakharov were utterly astonished. Koreyko nodded and then shook his head. The old man Kukushkind quickly put on his glasses, forgetting to clean them, something that had never happened to him in thirty years of service. Berlag, as if nothing had happened, sat down at his desk and, ignoring the subtle smirk from Lapidus Jr., opened his books.

“How’s your health?” Lapidus asked nonetheless. “The heel nerve?”

“Everything is over,” Berloga replied, not…liftingheads, – I.I can’t even believe that such a nerve exists in a person.

Before the lunch break, the entire finance department was bustling on their stools and cushions, filled with curiosity. And when the emergency bell rang, the colorful world of accounting surrounded Berloga. But the fugitive hardly answered any questions. He pulled aside the four most loyal colleagues and, ensuring that no one else was nearby, shared his extraordinary adventures in the madhouse. The fleeing accountant accompanied his tale with a multitude of intricate expressions and interjections, which have been omitted here for the sake of narrative coherence.

The story of accountant Berlagi, shared by him under the strictest secrecy.Tezoimenitskyto Dreyfus, Sakharov, and Lapidus Jr. about what happened to him in the insane asylum.

As previously reported, the accountant of Berlag fled to a mental institution, fearing a purge. In this facility, he hoped to ride out the troubled times and return to…HERCULESwhen the thunder subsides, that is to say, comradeswith gray eyes
will move to the neighboring institution.

My brother-in-law put everything together. He found a book aboutrightsand the habits of the mentally ill, and after long discussions, among all the obsessive ideas, delusions were chosen.grandeurТекст для перевода: ..

“You won’t have to do anything,” the brother-in-law explained, “you just have to shout in everyone’s ears: ‘I am Napoleon!’ or ‘I am Émile Zola!’”Or.Muhammad, if you want.!

– A.viceroy“Can we go to India?” Berloga asked trustingly.

– Sure, sure.!.A madman can do anything.!So,,.Vice-Roy of India?

The brother-in-law spoke so weightily, as if he were at least a junior resident.psychiatric hospitalsIn reality, he was a modest agent for the distribution of luxurious subscription editions from Gosizdat, and all that remained of his past commercial grandeur was a Viennese bowler hat with a white silk lining tucked away in his trunk.

The brother-in-law ran topayphonecall a carriage, and the new Viceroy of India
took off his hoodie and tore it apart.madapolamI poured a bottle of the best copying iron-gall ink over my head, just in case, along with my shirt.1st.class. Then he lay on his stomach on the floor and,waiting forSanitarov began to shout:

– I am no more than the viceroy of India! Where are my loyal naibs, maharajas, my abrek, my kunaks, my elephants?

Listening to this grandiose nonsense, the brother-in-law shook his head in doubt. In his view, the abrek and the kunak did not fall within the sphere…actionsthe Indian king. But the orderlies just wiped the accountant’s ink-stained face with a damp cloth.1st.They all gathered together and helped him into the carriage. The lacquered doors slammed shut, a worried medical horn sounded, and the car whisked the viceroy Berlagu away to his new domain.

On the way, the patient waved his arms and babbled on, unable to stop thinking with fear about his first encounter with real lunatics. He was very afraid that they would hurt him, or maybe even…they will beatТекст для перевода: ..

The hospital turned out to be completely different from what Berlag had imagined. In the long, bright room, people in bluish gowns were sitting on sofas, lying on beds, and walking around. The accountant noticed that the patients hardly spoke to each other. They had no time to talk. They were thinking. They were thinking all the time. They had a multitude of thoughts, trying to remember something, to recall the most important thing that determined their happiness. But the thoughts fell apart, and the most important ones, like a wagging tail, disappeared. And again, they had to rethink everything, to finally understand what had happened, why everything had gone wrong when it used to be so good.

A madman, unkempt and miserable, has passed by Berlaga several times. Cradling his chin with his fingers, he walked along one…lines fromFrom the window to the door, from the door to the window, back to the door, and again to the window. And so many thoughts were crashing around in his poor head that he pressed his other hand to his forehead and quickened his pace.

– I am the viceroy of India! – shouted Berloga, glancing back at the orderly.

The madman didn’t even glance at the accountant. Wincing painfully, he began again.gather thoughts, scatteredfrom the screamBerlagi. But then a short idiot approached the viceroy and, trustingly hugging him around the waist, said a few words in a bird-like language.

“What?” Berlag asked, his voice filled with confusion and fear.

“– Ene, bene, raba, kvinter, finter, zhaba,” the new acquaintance pronounced clearly.

Saying “oh,” Berloga stepped back.stay away from the idiotТекст для перевода: ..Producedthis evolution, hecame up closeto the man with a lemon-shaped bald head. He immediately turned to the wall and cautiously glanced at the accountant.

“Where are my maharajas?” Berloga asked him, feeling the need to uphold his reputation as a madman.

But herepersonsitting on the bed in the depths of the room, he rose on thin, yellow legs like church candles and cried out in agony:

– To freedom! To freedom! To the pampas!

How.BerlogaI later learned that an old geography teacher was asking to go to the pampas, based on the textbook he used.in due timeThe young Berloga was getting acquainted with volcanoes, capes, and isthmuses. The geographer went completely mad quite unexpectedly: one day he looked at the map of both hemispheres and did not find the Bering Strait on it. The whole day the old teacher pored over the map. Everything was in its place: andNewfoundlandthe Suez Canal, Madagascar, and the Sandwich Islands with the main city of Honolulu, and evenvolcanoesPopocatépetl, but the Bering Strait was absent. And right there, by the map, the old man stirred. He was a kind-hearted madman, causing no harm to anyone, but Berlag was desperately frightened. The scream tore at his soul.

“To freedom!” the geographer continued to shout. “To the pampas!”To freedom!

He knew better than anyone in the world what freedom was. He was a geographer, and he was familiar with vast expanses that ordinary people, preoccupied with mundane tasks, could hardly even imagine. He longed for freedom, to gallop on a sweaty mustang through the thickets.

A young doctor with pleading blue eyes entered the room and headed straight for Berlage.

“Well, how are you feeling, dear?” she asked, gently touching the accountant’s pulse with her warm hand. “You’re feeling better, aren’t you?”

– I am the Viceroy of India! – he reported, blushing. – Give me my favorite elephant.Текст для перевода: ..

“You’re just being silly,” the doctor said gently, “you’re in a treatment facility, and we will help you get better.”

– O-o-o! My elephant! – Berloga shouted provocatively.

“But you must understand,” the doctor said even more gently, “you are not a viceroy; this is all nonsense, do you understand? Nonsense.”?.

– No, it’s not nonsense, – Berloga replied, knowing that the first thing to do was to be stubborn.

– No, that’s nonsense.Текст для перевода: ..

– No, it’s not nonsense!

– Nonsense!

– Not nonsense!

The accountant, seeing that the iron was hot, began to forge it. He pushed the good doctor and let out a long wail that startled all the patients, especially the little idiot who sat on the floor and, drooling, said:

– En, den, truakatr, mademoiselle Jurowatr.

And Berloga heard with satisfaction the voice of the doctor behind him, directed at the orderly.Текст для перевода: ..

“We need to move him to those three, or else he’ll scare the whole ward.”

Two patient orderlies took the grumpy vice-king to a small room for patients with behavioral issues, where three people lay quietly. It was only here that the accountant realized what real madness looked like. Upon seeing the visitors, the patients exhibited extraordinary energy. A fat man rolled off his bed, quickly got on all fours, and, raising his backside high like a mandolin, began to bark sharply and scratch the parquet floor with his back legs in his hospital slippers. Another one wrapped himself in a blanket and started shouting, “And you, Brutus, have sold out to the Bolsheviks!”It seems that there is no text provided for translation. Please provide the text you would like me to translate.This person undoubtedly imagined himself as Gaius Julius Caesar. Sometimes, however, a lever would slip in his troubled mind, and he would confuse things, shouting: “I am Heinrich Julius Zimmerman!”

“Get out! I’m naked!”growledThird. – Don’t look at me.!I’m ashamed.!.I am a naked woman.!

Meanwhile, he was dressed and was…manwith a mustache.

The orderlies have left. The Vice-King of India has become so…The text for translation: horror.that he wasn’t even thinking about making demands abouturgentthe return of the beloved elephant, the maharajas, the loyal naibovs, as well as the mysterious abrek and kunak.

“They’ll strangle you in no time.”!“he thought”,.леденея.

And he bitterly regretted causing a scene in the quiet room. How nice it would be to sit at the feet of a kind geography teacher and listen to the gentle babble of a little one.idiotEne, bene, raba, kvinter, finter,
frog.He hid behind his bed, waiting for an attack.However, nothing.nothing particularly terrible happenedThe dog-man barked a few more times and, grumbling, climbed onto his bed. Kai Julius threw off his blanket, yawned desperately, and stretched his whole body. The woman with a mustache lit her pipe, and a sweet aroma filled the air.tobacco“Our capstan” brought peace to the rebellious soul of Berlag.

– I am the Viceroy of India.!.“he stated”,.having gained courage.

“Shut up, you bastard!” Kai replied lazily. And with the straightforwardness of a Roman, he added, “I’ll kill you! I’ll rip your soul out!”

This remark from the bravest of emperors and warriors sobered the fleeing accountant. He hid under the blanket and, sadly reflecting on his troubled life, dozed off.

In the morning, half-asleep.accountantBerloga heard strange words:

– They put a psycho in charge of us. It was so good before.in a group of three
andsuddenly… Now deal with him! What good is this,this.The vice-king of all will snack on us.

By Berlag’s voice, he determined that these words were spoken by Caius Julius Caesar. After a while, when he opened his eyes, he saw a man-dog looking at him with an expression of keen interest.

“The end,” the viceroy thought, “is about to bite.”It seems that there is no text provided for translation. Please provide the text you would like me to translate.

But the dog-man suddenly threw up his hands and asked in a human voice:

“Excuse me, are you not the son of Foma Berlagi?”

– Son, – replied the accountant, and suddenly realizing, he shouted: – Give the poor vice-king back his faithful elephant!

“Look at me,” invited the mutt-like man. “Don’t you recognize me?”

– Mikhail Alexandrovich! – exclaimed the newly enlightened accountant. – What a meeting!

And the viceroy warmly kissed the dog-man. In the process, they bumped heads with a loud thud, like a billiard ball. Tears were welling up in Mikhail Alexandrovich’s eyes.

“Are you saying you’re not crazy?” Berlag asked. “What do you mean?”The text for translation: female.Did you fool around?

– What were you fooling around for? Seriously! He wants elephants now! And I must tell you, my friend Berlag, that for a good madman, a viceroy is just too weak, too weak, too weak.

– But my brother-in-law told me it was okay, – Berlag was saddened.

“Take me, for example,” said Mikhail Alexandrovich, “it’s a subtle game. A man-dog.”!Schizophrenic delusions complicated by manic-depressive psychosis, and, mind you, Berlag’s twilight state of the soul. Do you think this came easily to me? I worked on the sources. Have you read Professor Bleuler’s book “Autistic Thinking”?

– N-no, – replied Berlag in the voice of the viceroy, from whom the order had been stripped.gartersand they were demoted to orderlies.

” gentlemen!” shouted Mikhail Alexandrovich. “He hasn’t read Bleiler’s book! But don’t be afraid, come here.”!He is as much a king as…you are CaesarТекст для перевода: ..

The other two pets from the small ward for individuals with inappropriate behavior approached.

“Have you not read Bleiler?” Kai asked.Julius.– Allow me.! P.What materials did you prepare with?

– He.probablyThe German magazine “Jahrbuch für Psychoanalyse und Psychopathologie” suggested that the inferior mustachioed man was a possibility.

Berlaga stood there like a man who had just been spat on. The experts kept throwing around convoluted phrases from the realm of psychoanalysis theory and practice. They all agreed that Berlaga was in for a rough time and that the chief physician Titanushkin, whose return from his business trip was expected any day now, would expose him in five minutes. They didn’t dwell on the fact that Titanushkin’s return filled them with dread.

“Maybe we can change the nonsense?” Berlag asked timidly. “What if I become Emile Zola or Muhammad?”

“– It’s late,” said Kai Julius., – alreadyThe medical record states that you are a vice-king, and a madman cannot change his delusions like socks. Now you will spend your whole life in the ridiculous position of a king. We have been sitting here for a week and know the rules.

An hour later, Berlag learned in detail the true stories of the illnesses of his fellow patients in the ward.

The appearance of Mikhail Alexandrovich in the insane asylum was explained by rather simple, everyday matters. He was a prominent NEPman who had inadvertently underpaid forty-three thousand in income tax. This threatened him with a forced trip to the north, while business urgently required Mikhail Alexandrovich’s presence in Chernomorsk. Duvanov, the man who was posing as a woman, was evidently a petty troublemaker who had good reason to fear arrest. But K. Julius Caesar, listed in the passport as a former juror I.N. Starokhamsky, was quite a different story.

Kai Julius Starokhamsky went to a mental institution for high-minded ideological reasons.

– In Soviet Russia, – he said, wrapping himself in a blanket, – a madhouse is the only place where a normal person can live. Everything else is…super-bedlamNo, I can’t live with the Bolsheviks.!I’d rather live here, among ordinary crazies. At least they don’t build socialism. Plus, they feed you here. But there, in their chaos, you have to work. And I won’t work for their socialism. Here, I finally have personal freedom. Freedom of conscience.!.Freedom of speech!

SeeingpassingAs he passed the orderly, Kai Julius Starokhamsky shrieked:

– Long live!founding assembly! Everyone to the forum! And you, Brutus, have sold out to the responsible workers! – And turning to Berlage, he added: – Did you see that? I shout whatever I want. – And try doing that on the street.!…

All day and most of the night, four patients with
erratic behavior played “sixty-six” without twenty and forty,
a cunning game that requires self-control, resourcefulness, purity of spirit, and clarity of thought.

In the morning, Professor Titanushkin returned from his business trip. He quickly looked over everyone.fourand he immediately ordered them to be thrown out of the hospital. Neither Bleuler’s book helped., ni.a twilight state of the soul, complicated by manic-depressive psychosis, neither “Yarbukh for psychoanalysts and psychopathologists.” Professor Titanushkin did not respect simulators.

And they ran down the street, elbowing passersby out of the way. Ahead marched Kai Julius. Following him hurried a woman-man and a man-dog. Behind them all trailed the disgraced vice-king, cursing his brother-in-law and horrified at the thought of what would happen next.

* * *

Finishing this instructive story, the accountant of Berlag looked sadly first atTezoimenitsky, then on Dreyfus, then
on Sakharov, and finally on Lapidus Jr., whose heads, as it seemed to him,
nodded sympathetically in the dim light of the corridor.

“See what you’ve achieved with your fantasies,” he said.cruel-heartedLapidus Jr., you wanted to get rid of one cleaning, but ended up in another. Now you’re in for a rough time. Since you’ve been cleaned out of the insane asylum, then from…HERCULESYou’ll probably get cleaned out.

TezoimenitskyDreyfus and Sakharov said nothing. And, without saying a word, they slowly began to drift into the darkness.

– Friends! – weakly.exclaimedAccountant. – Where are you going?

But the friends were already racing at full speed, and their ragged trousers,flashed
the lastOnce on the stairs, they disappeared from sight.

“That’s not good, Berloga,” Lapidus said coldly, “you shouldn’t drag me into your dirty anti-Soviet schemes.”!Adieu!

And the Viceroy of India was left alone.

What have you done, accountant of the labor camp?!.Where were your eyes, accountant? And what would your dad say?,.Thomas, if he had known that his son…его.At the age of retirement, you turned to becoming a viceroy? Look where your strange connections with Mr. Funt, the chairman of many joint-stock companies with mixed and questionable capital, have led you, accountant.!It’s even frightening to think about what old Foma would say about the antics of his beloved son. But Foma has long been resting in the second Christian cemetery, beneath a stone seraph with a broken wing, and only the boys who run in here to steal lilacs occasionally cast a disinterested glance at the gravestone inscription: “Your journey is over. Sleep, poor soul, beloved by all, F. Berlag.” Perhaps the old man wouldn’t have said anything at all.!Well, of course.The text for translation: f.I wouldn’t say anything, because I myself haven’t exactly led a righteous life. I would just advise you to be more careful and not to rely on your brother-in-law in serious matters. Yeah, who knows what you’ve gotten yourself into, accountant of the camp!

The heavy contemplation that engulfed the former governor Georg.The text does not contain any translatable parts.In India, it was interrupted by shouts coming from the stairs:

– Berloga! Where is he? Someone is asking for him.! Here it ishe is standing, p.Please proceed, citizen.Текст для перевода: ..

In the corridor, the hoof commissioner appeared. Guard-like, waving his big hands, Balaganov approached Berlag and handed him the summons:

“Comrade Berlage. Upon receiving this”request“to appear for the clarification of certain circumstances.”

The paper was stamped by the Black Sea branch.Arbatovskayaoffices for the procurement of horns and hooves and round
seal, the content of which would be difficult to deciphera bit difficult, even if it had occurred to Berlage. But the hasty accountant was so overwhelmed by the troubles that had befallen him that he simply asked:

– Can I call home?

“What’s the point of calling?” the manager said grumpily, with a frown.

* * *

Two hours later, the crowd waiting outside the “Kapitaliy” cinema for the first screening, idly looking around, noticed a man emerge from the horn procurement office. Clutching his heart, he slowly walked away. It was the accountant from Berlag. At first, he moved his legs sluggishly.,
thenHe gradually began to quicken his pace. Turning the corner, the accountant discreetly crossed himself and ran headlong. Soon, he was sitting at his desk in the finance department, staring blankly at the “Main“the book.” The numbers swirled and flipped in his eyes.

The Great Combiner closed the folder on the “Koreiko case,” looked at Funt, who was sitting under the new sign that read “Chairman of the Board,” and said:

– When I was very young, very poor, and fed myself with what I showed onKherson’sAt the fair of a stout, heavyset monk, passing him off as a woman with a beard – an inexplicable phenomenon of nature – even then, I did not stoop to such moral lows as this vulgar Berloga.

– A pathetic, insignificant man, – confirmed Panikovsky, serving tea at the tables. He took pleasure in the thought that there were people in the world even smaller than he was.

– Berloga is not the head, – the deputy chairman said with his characteristic slowness. – McDonald is the head. His idea of a classless society in industry…

– Enough, enough.!.“Let’s schedule a special meeting to discuss your views on McDonald and other bourgeois figures. I don’t have time right now. Berloga may not be the brightest, but he did share some information with us.”из.the life and activities of self-exploding joint-stock companies.

Suddenly, the great combinator felt cheerful. Everything was going perfectly. No one was bringing any more stinky horns. The workBlack SeaThe department could be considered satisfactory, although the latest mail had delivered a pile of new relationships, circulars, and demands to the office, and Panikovsky had already run to the…Exchange.work behind the counter.

– Yes! – Ostap suddenly shouted. – Where is Kozlevich?AntelopeWhat kind of institution is it without a car? I need to get to the meeting.!.Everyone is inviting, they can’t live without me. Where is Kozlevich?

Panikovsky looked away and sighed, saying:

– It’s not good with Kozlevich.

– How.that’s not good?.Drunk.Is that so?

“– Worse, – replied Panikovsky, – we were even afraid to talk to you. The priests had him under their thumb.”

At that moment, the courier looked at the hoof representative, and they both sadly shook their heads.headТекст для перевода: ..

Chapter Seventeen

The Great Combinator did not like priests. He equally disdained rabbis, dalai lamas, ministers, muezzins, shamans, and other cult officials.

“I myself am prone to deception and blackmail,” he said, “for example, right now I am extorting a large sum from a stubborn citizen. But I do not accompany my dubious actions with either hymns, the roar of an organ, or silly incantations in Latin or Church Slavonic. And in general…”In these bureaucratic houses of God, the staff is excessively bloated. II prefer to work without incense and astral bells.

And while Balaganov and Panikovsky, interrupting each other, were telling the tale of the driver’s unfortunate fate,AntelopesOstap’s brave heart was filled with anger and frustration.

The priests captured the soul of Adam Kozlevich at the inn, where, among the horse-drawn German wagons and Moldovan fruit stalls, stood in a pile of manure.AntelopeFather Kushakovsky would visit the inn for moral discussions with the Catholic colonists. NoticingAntelope,
priestHe walked around her and touched the tire with his finger. He spoke with Kozlevich and learned that Adam Kazimirovich belongs to the Roman Catholic Church, but does not…confessedfor about twenty years. Saying, “Not good, not good, Mr. Kozlevich,” Father Kushakovsky left,lifting upwith both hands the black skirt and jumping over the frothy beer puddles. The next day, at the crack of dawn, when the truck drivers were taking anxious small speculators to the market in the town of Koshary, cramming them into one truck with fifteen people, Father Kushakovsky appeared again. This time he was accompanied by another priest – Aloysius Moroshek. While Kushakovsky was greeting Adam Kazimirovich, Father Moroshek carefully examined the car and not only touched the tire with his finger but even pressed the bell, causingна
светthe sounds of matchisa. After that, the ksendzy exchanged glances, approached Kozlevich from both sides, and began to charm him. They charmed him for a wholeday.As soon as Kushakovsky fell silent, Moroshek would step in. And before he could stop to wipe the sweat from his brow, he was already…Адама.Kushakovsky was at it again. Sometimes
KushakovskyraisedThe yellow index finger pointed to the sky, while Moroshek was sorting through the beads. Sometimes, though, it was Kushakovsky who sorted the beads, while Moroshek pointed to the sky.And a fewOnce the priests began to quietly sing in Latin, by the evening of the first day, Adam Kazimirovich started to join in. At that moment, both fathers glanced at each other with a businesslike expression.AntelopeТекст для перевода: ..

After a while, Panikovsky noticed something in the owner.Antelopesthe change. Adam Kazimirovich uttered some vague words about the kingdom of heaven. This was confirmed by Balaganov. Then he started to disappear for long periods and eventually left the yard altogether.

– WhyThe text for translation: same.“Did you not report to me?” the great schemer exclaimed indignantly.

They wanted to report, but they feared the commander’s wrath. They hoped that Kozlevich would come to his senses and return on his own. But now all hope was lost. The priests had completely bewitched him. Just not long ago…,.Yesterday, the courier and the hoof inspector accidentally met Kozlevich. He was sitting in a car by the church entrance. They didn’t have time to approach him. From the church, Father Aloysius Moroshek came out with a boy in lace.

– You see, Bender, – said Shura, – the whole gang settled in our…AntelopeThe poor Kozlevich took off his hat, the boy rang the bell, and they left. It was really sad to see our Adam like that. We won’t be seeing him anymore.AntelopesТекст для перевода: ..

The face of the great schemer took on the hardness of a mineral. HeHe put on his captain’s cap with a glossy visor and headed for the exit.

– Pound!“he said”. – Youstaying at the officeТекст для перевода: ..Horns and hooves should not be accepted under any circumstances. If there’s mail, throw it in the trash. The office worker will sort it out later. Got it?

When the deputy chairman opened his mouth to respond., what.it happened exactly five minutes laterThe text for translation: ,.The orphaned antelopes were already far away. At the head of the procession, taking giant strides, was the commander. He occasionally turned his head back and muttered, “We couldn’t protect the gentle Kozlevich, melancholics.”The text for translation: !…I disavow everyone.!…“Oh, that black and white clergy!” The flight engineer walked silently, pretending that the complaints weren’t directed at him. Panikovsky jumped around like a monkey, fueling his desire for revenge against the kidnappers of Kozlevich, although he felt a heavy, cold frog sitting in his soul. He was afraid of the black priests, who were behind…he.acknowledged many magical properties.

In this order, the entire department for the preparation of horns and hooves arrived at the foot of the church. In front of the iron gate, woven from spirals and crosses, stood an emptyAntelopeThe church was enormous. It pierced the sky, jagged and sharp like a fishbone. It got stuck in your throat. Polished red bricks, tiled roofs, tin flags, and deafening silence.buttressesand beautiful stone idols hiding from the rain in niches, all.This elongated soldier’s Gothic style immediately descended upon the antelope people. They felt small. Ostap climbed into the car, took a breath of the air, and said with disgust:

– Ugh! Disgusting! OurAntelopeIt already smells of candles, circles for the construction of the temple, and the boots of the priests. Of course, it’s more pleasant to travel with the sacraments by car than by horse-drawn carriage. Besides, it’s for free.!.Well, no, dear fathers, our needs are more important.Пожалуйста, предоставьте текст, который вы хотите перевести.

With these words, Bender entered the churchyard and, walking between the children playing in the squares drawn in chalk on the asphalt, climbed the granite bank steps to the temple doors. On the thick doors, covered with iron bands, the relief saints arranged in squares exchanged air kisses, pointed in different directions, or entertained themselves by reading thick books, on which a diligent carver had even depicted Latin letters. The great schemer pulled at the door, but it did not budge. From inside, gentle sounds of a harmonium floated out.

“How charming!” shouted Ostap as he came down the stairs. “The most charming thing is happening! To the sweet strumming of the mandolin.”

“Maybe we should leave?” Panikovsky asked, twisting his hat in his hands. “After all, it’s a house of worship. It’s inappropriate.”

But Ostap, ignoring him, approached the…Antelopeand began to impatiently press the pear. He played the match until the clanging of keys could be heard behind the thick doors. The Antilopovites raised their heads. The door swung open in two halves, and the cheerful saints in their oak squares slowly moved back. From the darkness of the portal, Adam Kazimirovich stepped onto the high, bright porch. He was pale. His conductor’s mustache was damp and pitifully drooping from his nostrils. In his hands, he held a prayer book.both.On his side were the priests. On the left was Father Kushakovsky, and on the right was Father Alois Morshek. The eyes of the fathers were glazed with oil.

“Hello, Kozlevich!” Ostap shouted from below. “Aren’t you tired of it yet?”

– Hello, Adam Kazimirovich.!.“–” said Panikovsky flippantly, though he was hiding behind the commander’s back.

Balaganov greeted with a raised hand and made a face that clearly meant: “Adam, stop your…”pieces.!».

The driver’s bodyAntelopestook a step forward, but his soul,
driven byboth.With the piercing gazes of Kushakovsky and Moroshek on her, she flinched back. Kozlevich looked sadly at his friends and lowered his gaze.

And the great struggle for the immortal soul of the driver began.

– Hey.The text for translation: ,.you, cherubim and seraphim,.“Let’s have a debate,” said Ostap, challenging his opponents., –
Godнет!.

“No, there is,” replied Father Aloysius Moroshek, stepping in front of Kozlevich.

“It’s just hooliganism,” muttered Father Kushakovsky.

– No, no, – continued the great schemer, – and there never was. It’s a medical fact.

“I find this conversation inappropriate,” Kushakovsky said angrily.

“Is it appropriate to take the car?” shouted the tactless Balaganov. “Adam! They just want to take it!”AntelopeТекст для перевода: ..

Hearing this, the driver raised his head and looked questioningly at the priests. The priests began to fidget and, with their silk cassocks rustling, tried to lead Kozlevich back. But he stood his ground.

– So what will it be with God? – insisted the great schemer.

The priest had to start the discussion. The children stopped hopping on one leg and came closer.

– How can you claim that God doesn’t exist, – Aloiziy Moroshek began in a heartfelt voice, – when everything alive was created by Him?Пожалуйста, предоставьте текст для перевода.

“I know, I know,” said Ostap, “I’m an old Catholic and a Latinist myself. Puer, socer, vesper, gener, liber, miser, asper, tener.”!

These Latin exceptions, memorized by Ostap in the third grade of a private gymnasium.KandelakiAnd still meaningless thoughts lingering in his head had a magnetic effect on Kozlevich. His soul joined with his body, and as a result of this union, the driver timidly moved forward.

– My son, – said Kushakovsky, looking at Ostap with hatred, – you are mistaken, my son. The wonders of the Lord testify…

– Priest! Stop chattering! – the great schemer said sternly. – I worked wonders myself. Just recently…,.Four years ago, I had to spend a few days as Jesus Christ in a little town. And everything was fine. I even fed several thousand believers with five loaves of bread. I did feed them, but what a…Queue!..

The debate continued in the same strange manner. Ostap’s unconvincing yet amusing arguments had a remarkably invigorating effect on Kozlevich. A flush appeared on the driver’s cheeks, and his mustache gradually began to…to riseupwards.

“Come on, come on!” encouraging shouts echoed from behind the spirals and crosses of the lattice, where a considerable crowd of onlookers had already gathered. “Tell them about the Pope, about the Crusade!”!.

Ostap also mentioned his father. He condemned Alexander Borgia for his inappropriate behavior and recalled something that seemed completely out of place.surfaced in my memorySeraphim of Sarov, and especially focused on the Inquisition that persecuted Galileo. He became so engrossed that he accusedin misfortunesthe great scholar directly Kushakovsky and Moroshek. This was the last straw. Hearing about the terrible fate of Galileo, Adam Kazimirovich quickly placed the prayer book on the step and fell into the wide, like gates,embracesBalaganov. Panikovsky was rubbing against him, stroking the prodigal son’s rough cheeks. Happy kisses hung in the air.

– Mr. Kozlevich! – the priests moaned.Текст для перевода: ..

But the rally participants were already getting into the car.

“See,” Ostap shouted to the saddened priests, taking the commander’s seat, “I told you there is no God!”!.Scientific fact!.Farewell, priests! Goodbye, fathers!

Accompanied by the approving cheers of the crowd,AntelopeThey drove off, and soon the tin flags and the tiled roofs of the church disappeared from sight. In their excitement, the antelope hunters stopped at a beer shop.

– Thank you, guys.!“— said Kozlevich, holding a heavy mug in his hand. — I was almost done for. The priests got to me. Especially Kushakovsky. Oh, he’s a sly one, that devil.”Текст для перевода: ..Do you believe it? I was made to fast.Текст для перевода: ..Otherwise,saidI won’t make it to heaven.

– The sky,.– said Ostap. – The sky is now in disarray. It’s not the same era., no.that
period of time. The angels now want to come to Earth. It’s nice on Earth; there
are utilities, there isplanetariumsYou can watch the stars accompanied by an anti-religious lecture.

After the eighth mug, Kozlevich demanded a ninth, raised it high above his head, and, while sucking on his conductor’s mustache, enthusiastically asked:

– No god?

– No, – replied Ostap.

– So,нет.Well, let’s be healthy.

That’s right.He drank
after that, saying before each new mug:

– Is there a god? No? Well, cheers to our health!!

Panikovsky drank like everyone else, but he didn’t express any opinions about God. He didn’t want to get involved in this contentious matter.

* * *

With the return of the prodigal son andAntelopes, Black SeaThe Arbatov branch of the horn and hoof procurement office gained the sparkle it had been missing. A car was now constantly stationed at the doors of the former combine, where five private entrepreneurs operated. Of course, it was far from the blue ones.“Biyuikov”and long-bodied“Lincolns”it was far from the Ford carriages, but still, it was a machine, a car, a vehicle, as Ostap would say,whichdespite all its shortcomings, is still capable, however, of sometimes moving through the streets without the help of horses.

Ostap worked with enthusiasm. If he had directed his efforts towards actually preparing horns or hooves, then…The text for translation: ,.It can be assumed that the mouthpiece and comb business would be supplied with raw materials at least until the end of the current budget century. But the office manager was busy…completelyother.

Breaking away from Funt and Berlagi, whose messages were very interesting but not directly related to…To the loin.Before they got started, Ostap intended to befriend Zosya Sinytskaya for the sake of business and, between two polite kisses under the night acacia, to discuss the matter of Alexander Ivanovich—not so much about him, but about his financial affairs. However, prolonged observation conducted by the hoof-appointed representative revealed that there was no love between Zosya and Koreiko, and that the latter, in Shura’s words, was wasting his time.

– Where there is no love, – Ostap commented with a sigh, – talking about money is not customary. Let’s set the girl aside.

And while Koreiko smiled as he recalled the crook in a police cap who made a pathetic attempt at third-rate blackmail, the head of the department was racing around the city in a yellow car, finding people and little folks whom the millionaire clerk had long forgotten, but who remembered him well. Several times, Ostap spoke with Moscow, calling a familiar private individual, a well-known expert in commercial secrets. Now letters and telegrams were arriving at the office, which Ostap eagerly selected from the general mail, still overflowing with invitations, demands for payments, and reprimands regarding the insufficiently energetic procurement of hooves. Some of these letters and telegrams ended up in a folder with shoelaces.

At the end of July, Ostap was preparing for a business trip.The text for translation: ,.to the Caucasus. The situation required the personal presence of the great schemer in a small grape-growing republic.

On the day of the chief’s departure, a scandalous incident occurred in the department. Panikovsky, sent with thirty rubles to the dock for a ticket, returned half an hour later drunk, without a ticket and without any money. He could say nothing in his defense, only turned out his pockets, which hung on him likebillion-dollarLuzhny, and he laughed continuously. Everything amused him: the commander’s anger, Balaganov’s reproachful gaze, the samovar entrusted to his care, and Funt.The text for translation: ,.with a panama hat pulled down over his nose, dozing off at his desk. When Panikovsky glanced at the deer antlers, the pride and decoration of the office, he was hit by such laughter that he fell to the floor and soon fell asleep with a joyful smile on his purple lips.

– Now we have a real institution, – said Ostap, – we have our own embezzler, who is also the doorman for the drunkard. Both of these guys make all our ventures a reality.

In the absence of Ostap,.Several times Aloiziy Moroshek and Kushakovsky appeared outside the office windows. At the sight of the priests, Kozlevich would hide in the farthest corner of the establishment. The priests would open the door, peek inside, and quietly call out:

– Mr. Kozlevich! Mr. Kozlevich!!

At the same time, Father Kushakovskyraisedto the sky a finger, and the priest Aloysius Moroshek was counting his beads. At that moment, Balaganov approached the clergymen and silently showed them his fiery fist. The priests walked away, casting sorrowful glances atAntelopeТекст для перевода: ..

Ostap returned after two weeks. He was welcomed by the entire institution. From the tall black wallmooredThe great combinator looked at his subordinates with friendliness and affection. He smelled of young lamb and Imeretian wine.

In the Black Sea branch, besides the clerk hired back when Ostap was around, there were two young men in boots. They were students sent from the livestock technical school to complete their practical training.

“That’s good!” Ostap said sourly. “The shift is on. But, my dear comrades, I will have to do some work. You all know, of course, that horns, which are growths covered with fur or a hard keratin layer, are extensions of the skull and are mainly found in mammals?”

– We know that, – the students said firmly, – what we need is…practicumpass.

The students had to be gotten rid of in a complicated and rather expensive way. The great combinator sent them on a business trip to the Kalmyk steppes to organize supply points. This cost the office six hundred rubles, but there was no other way out.Studentsthey would have interfered with the successfully progressing matter. When Panikovsky learned how much the students had cost, he pulled Balaganov aside and irritably whispered:

– I’m not being sent on a business trip. And they don’t give me any vacation time. I need to go to Essentuki for treatment. And weekends…х у.I’m not available, and they don’t provide work clothes. No, Shura, these conditions don’t work for me. And in general, I…found out, in.HERCULESThe stakes are higher. I’ll go there as a courier. I swear, on my honor, I will go.Текст для перевода: ..

In the evening, Ostap summoned Berloga to his side again.

“Get on your knees!” shouted Ostap in Nikolai’s voice.firstas soon as I saw the accountant.

Nevertheless, the conversation was friendly and lasted for two hours.

After that, Ostap ordered to serve.Antelopeна.the next day at ten o’clock in the morningto the entranceHERCULESТекст для перевода: ..

Chapter Eighteen

Comrade Skumbrievich arrived at the beach, holding in his handsportfolio with suitcase straps and a handleA silver business card with a folded corner and an elongated cursive inscription was attached to the portfolio, indicating that Egor Skumbrievich had already celebrated his five-year anniversary of service inHERCULES.His face was clean, straight, and masculine, like that of a shaven Englishman in an advertisement. Skumbrievich stood bypoint, where the water temperature was marked with chalk, and, with difficulty freeing my legs from the hot sand, I went to find a more comfortable spot.

The bathing camp was crowded. Its light structures appeared in the mornings, only to disappear with the setting sun, leaving behind on the sand the remnants of urban life: wilted melon rinds, eggshells, and scraps of newspaper, which then lead a secret life all night on the empty shore, rustling about and flying under the cliffs.In the morning, a boy assigned to clean the beach sweeps the area with a new broom, on which some hemp seeds still hang here and there, and he freezes in front of the gnawed crusts. Suddenly, he starts to feel that little children were eaten here. The boy nervously sniffs the air with his colorful nose. The sea smells of wildness and tropics, and there is no doubt that a red canoe will soon emerge from behind the rock, the cannibals from Jack London’s stories will come ashore, and they will make a meal of the boy.

Skumbrievich made his way between the little huts made of waffle towels, umbrellas, and sheets stretched over sticks.glancing at the girlsin bathing skirts. The men were also in suits, but not all of them. Some of themthey only had fig leaves with them, and those were certainly not covering biblical places, but rather the noses of the Black Sea gentlemen. This was done in order to…gentlemanlythe skin on the nose didn’t peel off. Settling in like this,gentlemenThey lay in the most relaxed positions. Occasionally, covering the biblical area with their hands, they would wade into the water, dip themselves, and quickly run back to their sunken spots in the sand, eager not to lose a single cubic centimeter of the healing sunbath. The lack of clothing for these individuals was more than compensated for by the gentleman.oppositeThe text for translation: type..He sprawled out in the sun, away from the crowd of bathers.He was wearing chrome shoes with buttons and business trousers.black,in a tightly buttoned jacket, with a collar, a tie, and a watch chain, as well as in a felt hat. Thick mustacheand cottonThe earrings completed the look.gentlemanNext to him stood a stick with a glass knob, stuck perpendicularly into the sand. The heat was oppressive. His collar was soaked with sweat. Undermice
of a gentlemanIt was hot, like in my house.–.There, one could melt ore. But he continued to lie still. On any beach in the world, you can encounter someone like that. Who is he, why did he come here, why is he lying there in full gear – nothing is known. But such people exist.–.one for each
beach. Maybe they are members of some secret league of fools, or remnants
of the once mighty order of Rosicrucians, orundercut salesmen, or
toocrazy bachelors– nothing is knownТекст для перевода: ..

Egor Skumbrievich settled down next to a member of the League of Fools and quickly undressed. The naked Skumbrievich looked strikingly different from the dressed Skumbrievich. The dry head of the Englishman sat atop a white feminine body with sloping shoulders and a very wide pelvis.Swaying the last one,Egor approached the water, tested it with his foot, and squealed. Then he dipped his other foot in and squealed again. After that, he took a few steps forward, plugged his ears with his thumbs, covered his eyes with his index fingers, pinched his nostrils with his middle fingers, let out a heart-wrenching scream, and plunged in four times in a row. Only after that…this.He swam forward with a side stroke, turning his head with each stroke of his arm. And the small waves took in Yegor Skumbrievich – a model Hercules and an outstanding public figure. Five minutes later, when the tired public figure rolled onto his back and his round, globe-like belly began to bob on the surface of the sea, the sound of an antelope match echoed from the cliff above the beach.

Ostap Bender, Balaganov, and the accountant Berlag, whose face showed complete submission to fate, got out of the car. The three of them went down and, without any ceremony, began to scrutinize the faces of those swimming, looking for someone.

– These are his pants, – Berloga finally said, stopping in front of the unsuspecting Skumbrievich’s clothes. – He,probablyYou’ve drifted far away.

“Enough!” exclaimed the great schemer. “I won’t wait any longer. We have to take action not only on land but also at sea.”

He took off his suit and shirt, revealing swimming trunks underneath, and, waving his arms, jumped into the water. On the chest of the great schemer was a blue powder tattoo depicting Napoleon in a triangular hat.hat withwith a beer mug in a short hand.

“Balaganov!” Ostap shouted from the water. “Strip him down and get Berlagu ready!”!.He might be needed.!

And the great schemer sailed on his side, parting the waters with his copper shoulder and heading north-northeast, where the pearly belly of Egor Skumbrievich loomed in the distance.

Before diving into the depths of the sea, Ostap had tothoroughlyto work on the continent.New faces kept appearing in the folder labeled “The Koreiko Case.”The main track led the great schemer under the golden letters.HERCULES, and he spent most of his time in this institution. He was no longer surprised by the rooms with alcoves and washbasins, statues, lounging in the stairwells,and the Swiss in a cap withwith golden zigzags, who loved to talk about fiery cremation.

From the chaotic explanations of the desperate Berlaga emerged the somewhat responsible figure of Comrade Skumbrievich. He occupied a large two-windowed room, where foreign captains, lion tamers, or wealthy students from Kyiv once stayed.On Skumbrievich’s desk stood two telephone sets and a bell for the courier on a wooden socket, which already indicated Egor’s considerable rank. The phones…They often called, irritably, sometimes separately, and sometimes both at once. But no one picked up the phone. Even more frequently, the door would open, and a neatly trimmed head would peek into the room, looking around in confusion before disappearing, only to be replaced almost immediately by another head, this time unkempt, with wild hair or simply bald and purple, like an onion. But even the onion-like skull would get stuck in the doorframe for a moment. The room was empty.

When the door opened, perhaps for the fiftieth time that day, Bender peeked into the room. He, like everyone else, turned his head from left to right and then from right to left, and, like everyone else, confirmed that Comrade Skumbrievich was not in the room. Boldly expressing his dissatisfaction, the great combinator wandered through the departments, sections, sectors, and offices, asking if anyone had seen Comrade Skumbrievich. And in all these…received in placesThe same response: “Skumbrievich was just here,” or “Skumbrievich left a minute ago.”

The semi-responsible Yegor belonged to the numerous type of employees who were either “just here” or “just stepped out a minute ago.” Some of them can’t even make it to their office during an entire workday. Exactly at nine o’clock, such a person walks intoinstitutionalthe lobby, full of good intentions, lifts his foot onto the first step of the staircase. Great things await him. He has scheduled eight important meetings, two broad sessions, and one narrow one in his office. A stack of papers requiring immediate attention lies on his desk. In general,,.There’s so much to do, not enough days. And a semi-responsible or responsible citizen cheerfully lifts his leg onto the marble step. But it’s not so easy to lower it. “Comrade Parusinov, just for a minute,” a cooing voice is heard, “I wanted to discuss a little question with you.” Parusinov is gently taken by the arm.pen.and they lead him to a corner of the lobby. And from that moment on, the responsible or semi-responsible employee was lost to the country – he was passed around. NotmanagesHe needs to work through the issue and run up three steps, and then he’s picked up again, taken to the window, or into a dark corridor, or to some deserted place.nookwhere the messy caretaker has thrown down empty boxes, and they are explaining something to him, trying to achieve something, insisting on something, and asking him to get something done urgently. By three o’clock in the afternoon, he finally makes it to the first landing. By five o’clock, he manages to break through.even.to the second floor. But since he lives on the third floor and the workday has already ended, he quickly runs downstairs and leaves the building to make it to an urgent interdepartmental meeting. Meanwhile, in the office, phones are ringing off the hook, scheduled appointments are falling through, correspondence is left unanswered, and members of two large meetings and one small one are apathetically drinking tea and chatting about tram issues.

Egor Skumbrievich’s peculiarities were greatly intensified by his involvement in public work, which he pursued with excessive fervor. He skillfully and advantageously exploited the mutual and comprehensive deception that had somehow taken root inHERCULESand for some reason was called a public burden.

– What’s going on with you, comrade, – he said, gliding through the corridors and stopping colleagues who hadn’t managed to dodge him, – you’re not doing anything for the community. We’ll call you out in the wall newspaper.

The colleague made a crying face and, thinking, “What are you lying for, you despicable slacker? You do nothing yourself and get in the way of others,” replied:

– Yes, I’m just getting ready, Comrade Skumbrievich.
Please! Load it up! I would be very happy!

“Then I’ll sign you up for the leadership community,” Egor said, “come to the organizational meeting the day after tomorrow. It’s time to get this moving.”

And the gargoyle member sat at the meeting.three hours straight, listening to the humiliating chatter of Skumbrievich.Other members of the Hercules team were sitting with him.They all really wanted to grab Egor by his chubby thighs and throw him out of the window from a decent height. At times, they even thought that no public activity existed at all and had never existed, although they knew that outside the walls…HERCULESThere is some other, proper social life. “What a beast,” they thought, sadly twirling pencils and tea spoons in their hands.careerist“Damned!” But they couldn’t find fault with Skumbrievich or expose him. Yegor was pronouncing the right…Text for translation: words.about the Soviet public, about cultural work, about vocational training, and about amateur clubs.For.With all these hot words, there was nothing. Fifteen circles, political and musical-dramatic, had been developing their prospective plans for two years already.,.cells of voluntary societies aimed at promoting the development of aviation, chemical knowledge, motorization, equestrian sports, and road construction,connections with the village and capital prisoners,and also to the prompt destructionilliteracy, homelessness, religion, alcoholism, andgreat power chauvinism existed only in the inflamed imagination of the local committee members. And the vocational training school,meetingwhich Skumbrievich took particular pride in, was constantly being restructured, which, as is known, signifies complete inactivity. If Skumbrievich had been an honest man, he would probably have admitted that all this work was being done “in the manner of a mirage.” But in the local committee, this mirage was dressed up in reports, and in the next union instance, the existence of musical-political circles was…too.There were no doubts about it. The vocational school was depicted as a large stone building, with desks inside, a lively teacher chalking the rising unemployment curve in the United States on the board, while mustached students were politically maturing right before our eyes. From the entire volcanic ring of public activity that Skumbrievich encompassed…HERCULESOnly two fiery points were active: the wall newspaper “Voice of the Chairman,” which was published once a month and created during class hours by Skumbrievich and Bomze, and a plywood board with an inscription.The text for translation: :.“Those who have quit drinking and are encouraging others,” but no names were listed under it.

The chase after Skumbrievich through the floors.HERCULESfed upOstapThe great schemer could not catch up with the illustrious public figure. He slipped through his fingers. Here, in the local committee, he had just been on the phone; the membrane was still warm, and the mist of his breath had not yet dissipated from the black lacquered receiver. Here, on the windowsill, there still sat a man with whom he had just…что.He was talking. Once, Ostap even saw Skumbrievich’s reflection in the stairwell mirror. He rushed forward, but the mirror immediately cleared, reflecting only the window with…cloudТекст для перевода: ..

“Mother Protector, three-handed police!” Ostap exclaimed, catching his breath. “What a banal, tiresome bureaucracy!”Текст для перевода: ..In ourBlack SeaThe department also has its weaknesses, like various issues in the testing lab, but nothing like what happened in…HERCULES… Right, Shura?

The hoof commissioner let out a heavy sigh.sigh.
And theyThey found themselves once again in the cool corridor of the second floor, where they had already been about fifteen times that day. And once more, for the fifteenth time, they walked past the wooden sofa that stood by Polykhaev’s office.

In the morning, a German specialist, an engineer, who had been hired from Germany for a large sum of money, was sitting on the couch.Heinrich-MariaZaunze. He was dressed in an ordinary European suit, and only the Ukrainian embroidered shirt with a Zaporizhian pattern indicated that the engineer had spent about three weeks in Russia and had already managed to visit a handicraft shop. He sat still, leaning his head against the wooden back of the sofa and closing his eyes, like a man about to be shaved. It might have seemed that he was dozing off. However, the milk brothers, who had run past him several times in search of Skumbrievich, had noticed that the colors on the still face of the foreign guest were constantly changing. By the start of the workday, when the engineer took his position at Polyhaev’s door, his face was moderately rosy. With each passing hour, it grew more flushed, and by the breakfast break, it had taken on the color of postal sealing wax. By that time, it was likely that Comrade Polyhaev had only made it to the second flight of stairs. After the break, the change in colors went in reverse. The sealing wax hue shifted to some scarlet spots.,
Henri-Mariebegan to pale by the middle of the day when the bossHERCULESIt seems they managed to break through to the second platform, and the face of the foreign specialist turned starchy white.

– What is happening to that person?!.Ostap whispered to Balaganov, “What a range of emotions!”

As soon as he finished saying those words,Heinrich-MariaZaunze jumped up on the couch and glared angrily at the Polykhaev door, behind which the sound of unanswered phone calls could be heard. “Wolokita”!.“– he squealed in a high-pitched voice and, rushing to the great combinator, began to shake him by the shoulders with all his might.”

– Comrade Polyhaev! – he shouted, jumping in front of Ostap. – Comrade Polyhaev!!!

He took out his watch and shoved it under Balaganov’s nose,raisedhe shoulders and again lunged at Bender.

– Are you kidding me? – Ostap asked in shock, showing some familiarity with the German language. – Do you want to take advantage of the poor visitor?

But.Heinrich-MariaZauze didn’t lag behind. Continuing to keep his left hand on Bender’s shoulder, with his right hand he pulled Balaganov closer and delivered a lengthy, passionate speech in front of them. During this, Ostap impatiently looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Skumbrievich, while the hoof commissioner quietly hiccupped, respectfully covering his mouth with his hand and staring blankly at the foreigner’s shoes.

EngineerHeinrich-MariaZaunze signed a contract for a year of work in the USSR, or, as Heinrich himself, who loved precision, put it., in.concernHERCULES“Look, Mr. Zaunze,” warned his acquaintance, mathematician Bernhard Gern­gross, “the Bolsheviks will make you work for your money.” But Zaunze explained that he was not afraid of work and had long been looking for a wide field to apply his knowledge in the area of forestry mechanization.

When Skumbrievich reported to Polyhaev about the arrival of the foreign specialist, the chief…HERCULESI started to fidget under my palm trees.

– We need him urgently! Where did you put him?

– To the hotel for now. Let her rest after the journey.

“How can there be any rest!” shouted Polyhaev. “So much money has been paid for it, in foreign currency!”Текст для перевода: ..Tomorrow, exactly at ten, he must be here.

It’s five minutes to ten.Heinrich-MariaZaue, shining in his coffee-colored trousers and smiling at the thought of the wide field of opportunities ahead, entered the Polykhaev’s office. The boss wasn’t there yet. He still wasn’t there an hour later, or even two. Heinrich began to feel restless. The only thing that entertained him was Skumbrievich, who would occasionally appear and, with an innocent smile, ask:

“Hasn’t General Polyhaev come yet? That’s strange.”

Two hours later, Skumbrievich stopped in the hallway to whisper with Bomze, who was having breakfast.Пожалуйста, предоставьте текст, который вы хотите перевести.

“I’m not sure what to do. Polyhaev scheduled the German for ten in the morning, but he went to Moscow to sort out the premises. He won’t be back for at least a week. Please help me, Adolf Nikolaevich.”Текст для перевода: ..I have a public workload, and we just can’t seem to adjust to the professional training. Please spend some time with the German, keep him occupied somehow. After all, money has been paid for him, in foreign currency.

The homeless man took one last sniff of his daily cutlet, swallowed it, brushed off the crumbs, and went to meet the guest.

During the week, engineer Zaue, guided by the kind Adolf Nikolaevich, managed to visit three museums, attend the ballet “Sleeping Beauty,” and spend about ten hours at a formal meeting held in his honor. After the meeting, there was an informal part during which the selected members of the Hercules Society had a great time, shaking their glasses and Sevastopol cups, and addressing…Zauzu., they shouted“peidodna”Текст для перевода: ..

“Dear Tili”!.– the engineer wrote to his fiancée in Aachen, – I have been living in Chernomorsk for ten days now, but I haven’t started working at the corporation yet.HERCULES“I haven’t started yet. I’m afraid that these days will be deducted from the contract amounts.”

However, on the fifteenth, the payment worker handed Zaue a half-monthly payment.salaryТекст для перевода: ..

“Don’t you think,” Heinrich said to his new friend Boms, “that I was paid for nothing?”After all, I…I am not doing any work.!

“Leave those gloomy thoughts behind, colleague!” shouted Adolf Nikolaevich. “However, if you wish, we can set up a special desk for you in my office.”

After that, Zaue wrote.your lettersthe bride, sitting at her own special tableТекст для перевода: ..

“Sweet little one”!.“I live a strange and extraordinary life. I do absolutely nothing, yet I receive my payments punctually, on time as agreed. This all amazes me. Tell our friend, Dr. Berngard Gerngross, about it. He will find it interesting.”

Polykhaev, who had arrived from Moscow, was pleased to learn that Zaue already had a table.

– Well, that’s just great.,.“he said”letSkumbrievich will bring the German up to speed.

But Skumbrievich, with all his enthusiasm dedicated to organizing a powerful circle of harmonica players, got rid of the German, Adolf Nikolaevich. Boms didn’t like this at all. The German was getting in the way of his snacks and generally meddling in his business, so Boms reported him to the operational department. However, since that department was in the process of restructuring its work at the time, which involved endless moving of tables from one place to another, then…Henrietta-MariaThey were brought together in the finance room. Here are Arnikov, Dreyfus, Sakharov, Koreiko, and…Tezoimenitskythose who did not speak German decided thatForeign narrownessa tourist from Argentina, and for whole days
they explained to him the Herculean accounting system. Meanwhile, theyused the alphabetfor the deaf and mute.

A month later, a very excited Zaue caught Skumbrievich in the cafeteria and started shouting:

– I don’t want to receive money for nothing! Give me a job! If this continues, I will complain to your boss!

The end of the speech by the foreign specialist did not sit well with Skumbrievich. He called Bomze to him.

– What’s up with the German? – he asked. – Why is he getting so worked up?

“Do you know what,” said Bomze, “I think he’s just a troublemaker. Honestly.”!.A person is sitting at a table, doing absolutely nothing, making a ton of money, and still complaining.

–.No.“Really a quarrelsome nature,” noted Skumbrievich, “even though he’s German. We need to apply some repression to him. I’ll mention it to Polyhaev. He’ll quickly bottle him up!”

HoweverHeinrich-Mariadecided.to make one’s way to PolyhaevBut, due to the fact that the boss…HERCULESHe was a prominent representative of the workers who had “just stepped out a minute ago” or “were just here.” This attempt only led to sitting on a wooden couch and an explosion, the victims of which were the innocent children of Lieutenant Schmidt.

– Bureaucratism! – shouted the German, in agitation, switching to the difficult Russian language.

Ostap silently took the European guest by the hand, led him to the complaint box hanging on the wall, and said, as if to a deaf person:

– HereПожалуйста, предоставьте текст для перевода.Do you understand? In the box. Write, wrote, written. To write. Do you understand? I write, you write, he writes, she writes, it writes. Do you understand? We, you, they.They are laying down.complaints… And no one takes them out. To take outТекст для перевода: ..I don’t take it out, you don’t take it out…

But there, at the end of the corridor, the great schemer spotted the wide hips of Skumbrievich and, leaving the grammar lesson unfinished, ran after the elusive public figure.

“Hang in there, Germany!” shouted Balaganov encouragingly to the German, as he rushed after the commander.

But, to Ostap’s great dismay, Skumbrievich vanished again, as if he had suddenly dematerialized.

– This is already mysticism, – said Bender, shaking his head, – there was just a person.,.and he’s not here!

The dairy brothers, in despair, began to open all the doors one after another. But from the third room, Balaganov burst out as if from a hole in the ice. His face was twisted to one side in a neuralgic spasm.

– Va-va, – said the hoof commissioner, leaning against the wall, – va-va-va.

“What’s wrong with you, my child?” Bender asked. “Has someone hurt you?”

– There.Пожалуйста, предоставьте текст для перевода.“Balaganov mumbled, extending…”tremblingThe text for translation: hand..

Ostap opened the door and saw a black coffin. The coffin rested in the middle of the room on a desk with drawers. Ostap took off his captain’s cap and tiptoed over to the coffin. Balaganov watched his actions with apprehension. A minute later, Ostap beckoned Balaganov and showed him a large white inscription written on the sides of the coffin.

“Do you see what it says here, Shura?” he said. “‘Death to bureaucracy!’ Are you feeling calmer now?”

It was a magnificent propaganda coffin that the Hercules supporters would bring out into the streets during major holidays and carry around the city singing songs. Usually, the coffin was supported on the shoulders of Skumbrievich, Bomze, Berloga, and Polykhaev himself, who was a man of democratic disposition and wasn’t ashamed to be seen alongside his subordinates at various parades and political carnivals. Skumbrievich held this coffin in high regard and attached great importance to it. Sometimes, donning an apron, Yegor would personally repaint the coffin and refresh the anti-bureaucratic slogans while in the process.his officeThe phones were crackling and rolling, and the most diverse heads, peeking through the door crack, sadly moved their eyes.

Egor has still not been found. The doorman in a cap with…zigzagsHe informed Bender that Comrade Skumbrievich had been here just a minute ago and had just left to go swimming at Komendantsky Beach, which, as he put it, gave him a boost of energy.

Taking Berloga just in case and waking up Kozlevich, who was dozing off at the wheel, the antelope crew set off out of town.

Is it any wonder that Ostap, fired up by everything that had happened, didn’t hesitate and jumped into the water after Skumbrievich, not at all bothered by the fact that an important conversation about shady shareholder dealings would have to take place in the Black Sea?

Balaganov precisely followed the commander’s orders. He separated the submissive Berlagu, led him to the water, and, holding him by the waist with both hands, began to wait patiently. In the sea, it was clear that a serious discussion was taking place. Ostap was shouting like a sea king. The words were indistinguishable. It was evident that Skumbrievich tried to head for the shore, but Ostap cut him off and drove him out into the open sea. Then the voices grew louder, and individual words became audible: “Intensivnik.”,.“Who took it? The Pope took it.”?.“What’s that got to do with me?”?.The text for translation: ».

Berloga had long been stepping barefoot, leaving Indian footprints in the wet sand. Finally, a cry came from the sea:

– You can let them in!

Balaganov threw the accountant into the sea, and he swam doggy-paddle style with extraordinary speed, splashing the water with his arms and legs. At the sight of Berlagi, Egor Skumbrievich dove in headfirst in fear.

Authorized representativeHe stretched out on the sand and lit a cigarette. He had to wait for about twenty minutes. Berloga was the first to return. He squatted down, took a handkerchief out of his pants pocket, wiped his face, and said:

– Our Skumbrievich confessed.!.He couldn’t handle the pressure.

“Did you give it out, you snake?” Shura asked good-naturedly. And, taking the cigarette from his lips with his thumb and index finger…fingerHe clicked his tongue. At the same time, a spit flew out of his mouth, quick and long like a torpedo.

Jumping on one leg and aimingotherin the pant leg, Berloga explained vaguely:

– I did it.это.not in the interest of truth, but in the interest of justice.

The great combinator arrived second. He flopped down on his stomach and, pressing his cheek against the warm sand, stared for a long time and with great significance at the blue Skumbrievich emerging from the water. Then he took the folder from Balaganov’s hands and, moistening the pencil with his tongue, began to record the results of his hard work.informationПожалуйста, предоставьте текст, который вы хотите перевести.

An amazing transformation took place with Egor Skumbrievich.!.Just half an hour ago, the wave took on the most active community member, a person about whom even the chairman of the local committee, comrade Niderlandyuk, said: “who.– Who, if not Skumbrievich, will come through?!“Well, Skumbrievich really bulked up.”!.And what a transformation! The small summer wave brought to shore not the wonderful female body with the head of a shaven Englishman, but some shapeless sack filled with mustard and horseradish.

While the great combinator was pirating on the sea,Heinrich-MariaZaunze, who had finally caught Polykhaev and had a rather significant conversation with him, stepped out of…HERCULESin complete bewilderment. Smiling strangely, he went to the post office and there, standing at the counter covered with a glass board, he wrote a letter to his fiancée in the city of Aachen.Пожалуйста, предоставьте текст, который вы хотите перевести.

“Dear girl”!I’m excited to share some joyful news with you. Finally, my boss Polyhaev is sending me to production. But what amazes me, dear Tili, is—Text for translation: here.This is called to bottle up.butilkou). My new friend is a homeless person.reported“…that I’m being sent to production as a punishment. Can you imagine that? And will our kind doctor of mathematics, Bernhard Gerngross, ever understand this?”

Chapter Nineteen

By twelve o’clock the next day…HERCULESA rumor started circulating that the boss had locked himself in his palm room with some visitor and hadn’t responded for three hours, neither to the knocks from Seryna Mikhailovna nor to calls on the internal phone. The Hercules team was left guessing. They were used to seeing Polyhaeva being escorted around the corridors all day, seated at…windowsillor they are dragged under the stairs, where all matters are settled. There was even a suggestion that the boss had strayed from the category of workers who “just came out” and joined the influential group of “recluses,” who usually sneak into their offices early in the morning, lock themselves in, turn off their phones, and, thus isolated from the world, compose a variety of reports.The system of seclusion yields the same results as the “hand-in-hand” work system. In one case, a visitor opens the door to the office and finds the necessary employee missing, while in the other case, they simply cannot open the door, even though the needed employee is right behind it.

Meanwhile, work was underway, papers required signatures, responses, and resolutions. Serna Mikhailovna approached Polykhaev’s door with a frown and listened intently. As she did, light pearl earrings swayed in her large ears.But from the palm hall came a steady hum of voices.

– A fact without precedent, – the secretary said thoughtfully.

– But who is it,who.“Is he in?” asked Boms, who smelled of a mix of cologne and meat patties. “Maybe someone from the inspection?”

– No, I’m telling you, just an ordinary visitor.

– And Polyhaev is sitting with…an ordinary visitorHas it been three hours already?

– A fact without precedent.!.– repeated Serna Mikhailovna.

“Where is the way out of this situation?” the homeless man exclaimed anxiously. “I urgently need Polyhaev’s resolution.”!.I have a detailed report on the unsuitability of the former “Sheet Metal and Concrete” premises for working conditions.HERCULESI can’t do without a resolution.

Sernu Mikhailovna was surrounded by employees from all sides. They all held large and small papers in their hands. After waiting for another hour, incontinuationThe rumble outside the door did not subside, and Serna Mikhailovna sat down at her desk and quietly said:

– Alright, comrades. Come forward with your papers.

She pulled a long wooden stand out of the cupboard, on which thirty-six stamps with thick lacquered heads were swaying, and, quickly removing the necessary seals from their slots, she began to stamp them onto the papers that could not afford any delay.

ChiefHERCULESI haven’t signed any documents by hand in a long time. If necessary, he would take a seal from his vest pocket, lovingly blow on it, and stamp a lilac facsimile against his title. He really enjoyed this work process, and it even led him to think that some…,.It wouldn’t hurt to translate the most commonly used resolutions into rubber as well.

Thus, the first rubber sayings came into existence:

“I have no objections. Polyhaev.”

“Agreed. Polyhaev.”

“Beautiful thought. Polyhaev.”

“Bring to life. Polyhaev.”

After testing the new device in practice, the supervisor…HERCULESI came to the conclusion that it significantly simplifies his work and needs further encouragement and development. Soon, a new batch of rubber was put into production. This time, the resolutions were more verbose:

“To issue a reprimand in the order. Polyhaev.”

“Put on display. Polyhaev.”

“Cast to the Periphery. Polyhaev.”

“Dismiss without severance pay. Polyhaev.”

The struggle that the boss…HERCULESI had a discussion with the communications department about the premises, which inspired him to create new standard texts.

“I am not subordinate to the community department. Polyhaev.”

“What are they, out of their minds? Polykhaev.”

“Don’t disturb me while I’m working. Polyhaev.”

“I’m not your night watchman. Polyhaev.”

“The hotel belongs to us – end of story. Polyhaev.”

“I know your tricks, Polyhaev.”

“I won’t provide beds or washbasins. Polyhaev.”

This series was ordered in three sets. A long struggle was anticipated, and the perceptive boss had good reason to be concerned thatthe rubber will wear out quicklyТекст для перевода: ..

Then a set of resolutions was ordered for internal Hercules needs.

“Ask Serna Mikhailovna. Polyhaev.”

“Don’t mess with my head. Polyhaev.”

“Slow and steady wins the race. Polyhaev.”

“To hell with all of you. Polyhaev.”

Creative thoughtPolykhaevanot limited, of course, exclusively to the administrative side of the matter. As a person with broad views, he could not overlook the questions of current politics. And he ordered a wonderful universal stamp, over the text of which he worked for several days. It was a marvelous rubber thought that Polyhaev could adapt to any situation in life. Besides allowing for an immediate response to events, it also freed upот.It was so convenient to use the stamp that all you had to do was fill in the blank space left in it to create a timely resolution.Текст для перевода: ..

In response to . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

We, the Hercules team, will respond as one:

a) improving qualityproducts,.

b) by increasing labor productivity,

with strengthening the fight against bureaucratism, red tape, nepotism, and sycophancy,

g) destructionпрогулов,

d) reducing overhead costsexpenses,

e) the overall increase in union activity,

refusal to celebrateChristmasThe text for translation: ,.Easter.,.Trinity,.AnnunciationThe text for translation: ,.Baptismи.dr.. religious holidays,

with an unrelenting fight against foolishness and hooliganismand drunkennessThe text for translation: ,.

and) the mass enrollment into the ranks of the society “Down with the Routine of Opera Stages,”

k) a mass transition tonew way of life,.

l) the complete transition of document management to the Latin alphabet.Текст для перевода: ..

A.also to everyone,
what will be needed in the future.

Polykhaev personally filled in the dotted interval as needed, adapting to the demands of the moment.

For example: “In response to the lawlessness of the English hardliners.” Or: “In response to the machinations of the Pilsudski supporters.” Or: “In response to the latest attacks from the Geneva peacekeepers.”

Gradually, Polyhaev became more and more eager and started using his universal resolution more frequently. It got to the point where he would respond to attacks and schemes with it.и.outrages of their own employees:.

For example: “In response to the brazen misconduct of accountant Kukuškin, who demanded overtime pay, we will respond…” Or: “In response to the vile schemes and despicable attacks of employee Borisokhlebsky, who requested an unscheduled leave, we will respond…”The text for translation: “и.”and so on. And all of this had to berespondwith an increase, enhancement, intensification, destruction, reduction, overall growth, abandonment of, relentless struggle, widespread entry, widespread transition, widespread transfer, as well as everything that will be needed in the future.

And only after reporting this way about Kukushkin and Borisokhlebsky, the chief would issue a brief note: “Put on notice. Polyhaev” or “Push to the periphery. Polyhaev.”

During the first introduction to the rubber resolution, some members of the Hercules group were disheartened. They were intimidated by the abundance of points. In particular, the point about the Latin alphabet and the mandatory joining of the society “Down with the Routine of the Opera Stage” confused them. However, everything turned out peacefully. Skumbrievich, however, took the initiative and organized, in addition to the aforementioned society, a circle called “Down with…”Khovanshchina“, but that was where it all ended.”

As the rumble of voices echoed behind the door of the Polykhaev office, Serna Mikhailovna worked briskly. A stand with stamps, arranged by height – from the very…little “I have no objections. The “Polyhaev” – from the largest to the universal, resembled a complex circus instrument, on which the white clown with the sun…on the buttocksShe played Braga’s serenade with drumsticks. The secretary was selecting an approximately suitable stamp and sticking it on the papers. Most of all, she focused on being careful.the rubber band ““Slow and steady wins the race,” remembering that this was the boss’s favorite saying.

The work was progressing without delays. The rubber substitute performed excellently in place of a human. The rubber Polyhaev was no less capable than the living Polyhaev.

Already empty.HERCULESand barefoot cleaners walked oncorridorswith dirty buckets, the last
female machinist, who stayed an hour longer toprintpersonally for myselfThe text you provided is incomplete. It translates to “the poems of Yesenin,” but without additional context or specific lines, I can’t provide a full translation. If you have specific poems or lines in mind, please share them, and I’ll be happy to help!Dragging the woven burlap of verses, I want to say something tender to you,” Serna Mikhailovna, who was tired of waiting, got up and,пред.Before going outside, she started to massage.себе.With cold fingers, when the door of Polykhaev’s office trembled, it opened, and Ostap Bender lazily stepped out. He sleepily glanced at Serna Mikhailovna and walked away, waving a yellow folder with shoelaces. Following him, Polykhaev emerged from the life-giving shade of the palms and sycamores. Serna looked at her tall friend and silently sank onto a square mattress that softened the hardness of her chair. How nice it was that the staff had already dispersed and at that moment could not see their boss. A diamond tear sat in his mustache like a bird in the branches. Polykhaev blinked surprisingly quickly and rubbed his hands so energetically, as if he wanted to create fire by friction, like the method used among the savages of Oceania. He ran after Ostap, shamefully smiling and arching his back.

“What will happen?” he muttered, running from one side to the other. “I won’t perish, will I? Please, tell me, my dear, my precious, I won’t perish? Can I be at ease?”

He wanted to add that he has a wife, children, Serna, children from Serna, and another woman who lives in Rostov-on-Don.;но в.throat.Something beeped on its own, and he fell silent.

Wailing mournfully, he accompanied Ostap all the way to the vestibule. In the empty building, they encountered only two people. At the end of the corridor stood Yegor Skumbrievich. Upon seeing the great schemer, he clutched his jaw and retreated into a nook. Downstairs, on the staircase, the accountant of Berlag peeked out from behind a marble girl with an electric torch. He bowed obsequiously to Ostap and even managed to say“Hello”But Ostap did not respond to the vice-king’s greeting.

At the very exit, Polyhaev grabbed Ostap by the sleeve and whispered:

– I haven’t hidden anything. I swear.Текст для перевода: ..I can be calm.Текст для перевода: ..Really?

“Complete peace of mind can only be provided by an insurance policy,” Ostap replied, not slowing down. “Any life insurance agent would tell you that. Personally, I no longer need you. The government, however, will probably take an interest in you soon.”

Chapter Twenty

In a small café serving artificial mineral waters, with a sign featuring painted blue siphons, Balaganov and Panikovsky were sitting at a white table.

The hoof commissioner chewed on a straw, making sure that the cream didn’t…squeezed outfrom the opposite end. He washed down this food of the gods with seltzer water mixed with green syrup.freshThe courier was drinking healing kefir. In front of him stood six empty bottles. From the seventh, Panikovsky was anxiously pouring a thick liquid into a glass. Today, at the office, the new clerk was paying salaries according to a list signed by Bender, and the friends were enjoying the coolness coming from the Italian stone tiles of the buffet, from the fireproof icebox where wet brined cheese was stored, from the darkened cylindrical bottles of sparkling water, and from the marble counter. A piece of ice had slipped out of the cupboard and lay on the floor, melting into water. It was pleasant to look at it after the exhausting sight of the street with its short shadows, the passersby beaten down by the heat, and the dogs delirious from thirst.

– A nice city, Chernomorsk.,.– said Panikovsky, licking his lips. –I gained some weight here.Kefir is good for the heart.

For some reason, this message made Balaganov laugh. He carelessly pressed the tube, and a thick sausage of cream oozed out, which the authorized person barely managed to catch in mid-air.

“You know, Shura,” Panikovsky continued, “I’ve somehow stopped trusting Bender. He’s up to something.”

– Well, well.,.“— You weren’t asked,” Balaganov said menacingly.!

– No, seriously., I.I have a lot of respect for Ostap Ibrahimovich.,.What a person he is!.. Even Funt – you know how much I respect Funt – said about Bender that he is–.Head. But I’ll tell you, Shura.,.A pound is a donkey.Текст для перевода: ..Honestly, he’s such a fool.!Just a pathetic, insignificant person! As for Bender, I have no objections. But there’s something I don’t like. I will tell you everything, Shura.,.like a native.

Since the last conversation with the sub-inspector.criminalNo one had approached Balaganov in search of him as if he were a relative. Therefore, he listened with satisfaction to the courier’s words and carelessly allowed him to continue.

– You know, Shura, – Panikovsky whispered, – I have a lot of respect for Bender, but I have to tell you…– Bender is a donkey.By God, what a pathetic, insignificant person.The text for translation: !…

– But, but,.“Be careful,” Balaganov said warningly.

– What’s the point?тут но– But! Just think about what he’s spending our money on!!.Just remember.Текст для перевода: ..Why do we need this ridiculous office? So many expenses! We’re paying one hundred twenty just for Funt. And the office clerk! Now they’ve sent two more, I saw them – they were getting their salaries from the payroll today. What a bunch of freeloaders! Why all this? He says it’s for legality. I couldn’t care less about legality if it costs this much money.!.And deer antlers for sixty-five rubles! And an inkwell! And all these hole punchers!!…

Panikovsky unbuttoned his jacket, and the fifty-kopeck collar, fastened around the neck of the convention violator, flared up, curling like a parchment scroll. But Panikovsky was so worked up that he didn’t pay any attention to it.

– Yes, Shura. We receive a miserable salary, while he is swimming in luxury. And I ask, why did he go to the Caucasus? He says it was a business trip. I don’t believe it.Текст для перевода: ..Panikovsky is not obliged to believe everything.Текст для перевода: ..And I ran to the pier for him to get a ticket. Note that it was a first-class ticket. This dandy from the Neva can’t travel in second class.class.Here is where our ten thousand is going! He is talking on…intercitythe phone sends lightning telegrams all over the world!Do you know how much a zipper costs? Forty kopecks a word.Any word costs forty kopecks!And I.forcedI deny myself the kefir that I need for my health. I am an old, sick person. I’ll tell you straight.–.Bende.The text for translation: r e.that’s not the head!.

– You’re still not very good at it, – noted Balaganov, hesitating., – after allBender made a human out of you. Remember how in Arbatovo you…ranwith the goose. And now you serve, receive
a salary, you are a member of society.!

“I don’t want to be a member of society!”squealedSuddenly, Panikovsky lowered his voice and added, “Your Bender is an idiot.”!.He started this silly search when he could take the money with his bare hands today.

Here, the hoof commissioner, no longer thinking about his beloved boss, moved closer to Panikovsky. And he, continuously tugging down the unruly collar, told Balaganov about a very serious experiment he had conducted at his own risk.

It turns out that Panikovsky wasn’t dozing off.On the day when the great schemer and Balaganov were chasing after Skumbrievich, Panikovsky took it upon himself to leave the office to old Funt, secretly entered Koreiko’s room, and, taking advantage of the owner’s absence, made a mess in it.most thoroughinspection. Of course, he didn’t find any money in the room, but heFound.something better – weights, very large
black weights, each weighing one and a half poods.

– I’ll tell you, Shura, like a dear friend.Bender always taught us that a person is fed by ideas. Yet he couldn’t figure out a simple thing. He just didn’t have the smarts. You’re lucky, Balaganov, that you work with Panikovsky.I have uncovered the secret of these weights.

Panikovsky finally caught the live little tail of his vest, attached it to the button on his trousers, and looked at Balaganov with a sense of triumph.

“What’s the secret?” the hoof commissioner said, disappointed. “Just ordinary weights for gymnastics.”!.

– You know, Shura, how much I respect you, – Panikovsky got heated, – but you’re an idiot.!.These are gold kettlebells.Текст для перевода: ..Do you understand? Weights made of pure gold! Each weight is one and a half poods., three.a pood of pure gold. I realized it right away, it hit me like a ton of bricks.!I stood in front of these weights andcrazyHe was laughing. What a scoundrel this Koreyko is! He cast himself some gold weights, painted them black, and thinks no one will find out. I’ll tell you, Shura, as if you were my own.– Would I really tell you?this secret, if
couldto take outOne kettlebell? But I’m an old, sick man, and the kettlebells are heavy. And I invite you as a dear one. I’m not Bender. I’m honest.Текст для перевода: ..

“Maybe they’re not gold?” asked the lieutenant’s beloved son, who was eager for Panikovsky to dispel his doubts as soon as possible.

– What are they?The text for translation: same.“What do you think?” the convention violator asked ironically.

“Yes,” said Balaganov.blinking.With red eyelashes, – now it’s clear to me. Look, please, old man – and everything has been revealed.!.Bender is really doing something wrong.The text for translation: ,.He writes notes, travels…
We’ll give him a share after all, out of fairness, right?

– Why should we? – Panikovsky protested. – All of us…Текст для перевода: ..Now we will live wonderfully, Shura.!I’m going to get gold teeth and get married, I swear.The text for translation: ,.I will get married, I swear, it’s a noble word.!…

It was decided to seize the valuable weights without delay.

“Pay for the kefir, Shura,” said Panikovsky, “and then we’ll settle up.”

The conspirators emerged from the cafeteria, blinded by the sun, and began to wander around the city. They were consumed by impatience. They stood for a long time on the city bridges, leaning their bellies on the parapets, gazing indifferently down at the rooftops of the houses.и.descending into the harbor streets, where horses cautiously navigated the trucks. Fat port sparrows pecked at the pavement, while dirty cats watched them from every alley. Behind the rusty roofs, attic windows, and antennaswas visibleblue water, a small boat racing at full speed, and a yellow steamboat chimney with a large red letter. From time to time, Panikovsky…raisedHe scratched his head and started to calculate. He was converting poods to kilograms,kilograms perOld Testament gold coins, and each time the figure was so tempting that the violator of the convention even let out a slight squeal.

At eleven o’clock in the evening, the milk brothers, swaying under the weight of two large weights, were making their way to the office for collecting horns and hooves. Panikovsky was carrying his share with both hands, sticking out his belly and puffing happily. He often stopped, set the weight down on the sidewalk, and muttered, “I’m getting married! I swear, on my honor, I’m getting married!” The big guy Balaganov held the weight on his shoulder. Sometimes Panikovsky couldn’t quite turn the corner because the weight continued to pull him forward due to inertia. Then Balaganov would hold Panikovsky by the collar with his free hand and steer him in the right direction.

They stopped at the office door.

“Now we’ll cut off a piece,” Panikovsky said anxiously, “and tomorrow morning we’ll sell it. I have an acquaintance, a watchmaker named Mr. Biberham. He’ll give us a fair price. Unlike at Chernotorg, where they never offer a real price.”

But the conspirators noticed that light was seeping through the green office curtains.

– Who.The text for translation: f.“What could be happening at this hour?” Balaganov wondered, bending down to the keyhole.

At the writing desk,illuminatedBy the side light of a strong plug lamp, Ostap Bender was sitting and writing something quickly.

– Writer! – said Balaganov, bursting into laughter and giving way to Panikovsky.

“Of course,” Panikovsky remarked, having seen enough, “he’s writing again. Honestly, this pathetic man makes me laugh. But where are we going to saw?”The text for translation: ?…

And, passionately discussing the need to sell it tomorrow morning…The watchmaker gave Biberkham two pieces of gold.The milk brothers lifted their load and walked into the darkness.

Meanwhile, the great schemer was finishing the biography of Alexander Ivanovich Koreiko. The bronze caps had been removed from all five little huts that made up the ink device “Facing the Village.” Ostap dipped his pen indiscriminately, wherever his hand landed, rolled around on the chair, and shuffled his feet under the table.

He had the exhausted face of a card player who had been losing all night and finally caught a break at dawn. All night, the pots just wouldn’t come together, and the cards weren’t in his favor. The player switched tables, trying to…to lurefate and find a lucky place. But the map stubbornly
wouldn’t budge. He was alreadybegan“to squeeze out,” that is, after looking at the first card, very slowly pulling another one from behind it, he was already placing the card on the edge of the table and looking at it from below, already stacking both cards face down and revealing them, like…the book,
in a word…did all the things that people do when they’re not lucky in a game of cards. But it didn’t help. Most of what came into my hands were pictures: jacks with rope-like mustaches, queens sniffing paper…lilies., and the kings with janitorial beards. Very often, there were black and pink tens. In general, that abomination was going on,which is officially called“baccarat”unofficially“pot” or “fat.” And only at that hour, when the chandeliers turn yellow and dim, when under the “sleeping is prohibited” posters, the losers in worn collars snore and choke on their chairs, a miracle occurs. The pots suddenly start to bind, the disgusting figures and tens disappear, eights and nines tumble down. The player no longer rushes around the hall, no longer squeezes…карт., does not look intoних.below. He feels a happy waist in his hands. And already the marathons have gathered behind the lucky one, tugging at his shoulders and sycophantically whispering: “Uncle Yura, give me three rubles.”!».He, pale and proud, boldly flips the cards and shouts: “Seats are opening up at the ninth table! And ‘Amateurs, send in your fifty cents!’ – he guts his partners. The green table, marked with white lines and arcs, becomes for him a cheerful and joyful place, like a football field.

For Ostap, there were no more doubts. A turning point had come in the game. Everything unclear became clear. A multitude of people with rope-like mustaches and royal beards, whom Ostap had to clash with and who had left a mark in the yellow folder with shoelaces, suddenly scattered to the sides, and on the forefront, crushing everything and everyone, emerged a white-eyed ham-like snout with wheat-colored eyebrows and deep sergeant’s folds on its cheeks.

Ostap put a period and blotted the biography.paperweightwith a silver teddy bear instead of a handle and started to organize documents. He loved to keep things in order. The last time he admired the well-pressed statements, telegrams, and various certificates. In the folder, there were evensomephotos andextractsfrom the accounting books. All of Alexander Ivanovich Koreiko’s life lay in a folder, and along with it were palm trees, girls, the blue sea, a white steamboat, blue express trains, a mirrored car, and Rio de Janeiro, the magical city nestled in the bay, where kind mulattos live and the overwhelming majority of citizens wear white pants. At last, the great schemer found that very individual he had been looking for.he.dreamed my whole life.

– And there’s no one to even evaluate it.my titanic effort“That’s sad,” Ostap said.risingand tying up a thick folder. – Balaganov is very nice, but foolish.
Panikovsky is just a cantankerous old man. AndKozlevich angelwithout wings. He still doesn’t doubt that we are preparing horns for the needs of the mouthpiece industry. Where are my friends, my wives, my children? I can only hope that the esteemed Alexander Ivanovich will appreciate my great work and grant me about fifteen hundred for my troubles. But no! Now I won’t accept less than a million; otherwise, the good mulattos simply won’t respect me.

Ostap got up from the table, took his wonderful folder, and thoughtfully began to stroll around the empty office, avoiding the typewriter with a Turkish accent, the railway ticket puncher, and almost brushing his head against the deer antlers. The white scar on Ostap’s throat turned pink. Gradually, the movements of the great combinator slowed down, and his legs in red shoes…purchasedThe Greek sailor began to glide silently across the floor. Unnoticed, he started to move sideways. With his right hand, he gently pressed a folder to his chest, as if it were a girl, while extending his left hand forward. Above the city, the unmistakable rosin-like creak of a wheel could be heard.fortunesIt was a delicate musical sound that suddenly transitioned into a light violin unison. And a heart-wrenching, long-forgotten melody made all the objects in the Black Sea branch of the Arbat office for the procurement of horns and hooves resonate.

The samovar was the first to start. Suddenly, a burning ember rolled out onto the tray. And the samovar began to sing:

Под.the sultry skyArgentina,

Where is the sky?gentle“so blue…”

The great combinator was dancing the tango. His medal-adorned face was turned to the side. He knelt down quickly.roseHe turned and, lightly stepping with his feet, glided forward again. The invisible tails of his tailcoat flared out with unexpected turns.

And the melody was already intercepted by a typewriter with a Turkish accent:

“…Where the southern sky is so blue,”

“Where are the women, like in the picture…”

And the clumsy, weathered cast-iron composter sighed heavily about the irretrievable time:

“…Where the women are like in the painting,”

“Everyone is dancing the tango.”

Ostap danced the classic provincial tango that had been performed in miniature theaters twenty years ago, when the accountant of the Berlag wore his first…suitSkumbrievich served in the office of the mayor, Polyhaev was taking an exam for the first civil rank, and the deputy chairman Funt was still a lively seventy-year-old man who, along with other tailcoated gentlemen, sat in the “Florida” café discussing the terrible news of the closure of the Dardanelles due to the Italo-Turkish War. The tailcoated gentlemen, still rosy-cheeked and smooth in those days, were going over the political figures of that era. “Enver Pasha is the head…Yuan Shikai– this is a head!.Purishkevich is quite a clever one, after all!The text for translation: “I.”Even then, they claimed that “Brian is the brains because…and then he“was a minister.”

Ostap was dancing. Above his head, the palm trees rustled and colorful birds flew by. Ocean liners rubbed their sides against the docks of Rio de Janeiro. Clever Brazilian merchants were openly engaging in coffee dumping, while in the open-air restaurants, local young people were enjoying alcoholic drinks.

– I will be the one to call the shots! – exclaimed the great schemer.

Turning off the light, he stepped out ofofficesand took the shortest route to Malaya Kasantinovaya Street. The pale, compass-like legs of the searchlights spread across the sky, descended, and suddenly sliced through a piece of the building, revealing a balcony.with ficusesor a glass Arnaut gallery with a couple frozen in surprise. Around the corner, two small tanks with round mushroom caps rolled towards Ostap, swaying and clattering on their tracks. A cavalryman, leaning down from his saddle, was asking a passerby how to get closer toold manthe market. At one point, artillery blocked Ostap’s way. He managed to slip past.street.in the interval between
two batteries. In another place, police officers were hastily nailing a board with black lettering that read: “Gas Shelter” to the gates
of the house.

Ostap was in a hurry. He was driven by the rhythm of Argentine tango. Not paying attention to his surroundings, he entered Koreiko’s house and knocked on the familiar door.

– Who’s there? – came the voice of the underground millionaire.

– TelegramThe text for translation: ,.“– replied the great combinator, winking into the darkness.”

The door opened, and he walked in, catching his folder on the door frame.

At dawn, far outside the city, the commissioner and the courier were sitting in a ravine. They were sawing weights. Their noses were smeared with cast iron dust. Next to Panikovsky, there was a neck warmer lying on the grass. He took it off.–.She was distracting me from working. Under the weights, the prudent violator of the convention spread out.newspaper sheetsto ensure that not a single speck of precious metal was wasted. The milk brothers occasionally exchanged significant glances and began to saw with renewed vigor. In the morning silenceit was heardonly the whistling of the gophers and the grinding of heated saw blades.

– What is it?,.“Suddenly, Balaganov said, stopping his work.”, – threeI’ve been sawing for hours, and it’s still not golden.?.

Panikovsky didn’t respond. He had already understood everything and had been sawing just for show for the last half hour.

“Well then, let’s drink some more!” said the red-haired Shura cheerfully.

– Of course, we need to cut it.!“Noted Panikovsky, trying to delay the dreadful hour of reckoning.”

He covered his face with his palm and looked through his splayed fingers at the steadily moving broad back of Balaganov.

“I don’t understand anything!” said Shura, finishing off the drink and splitting the weight into two apple halves. “This isn’t gold.”Текст для перевода: ..

“Keep sawing, keep sawing,” Panikovsky mumbled.

But Balaganov, holding a cast-iron hemisphere in each hand, slowly began to approach the violator of the convention.

“Don’t come near me with that metal!” Panikovsky shrieked, backing away. “I despise you!”

But then Shura swung back and, groaning from the effort, hurled a piece of a weight at the schemer. Hearing the whistling projectile overhead, the schemer dropped to the ground. The scuffle between the authorized representative and the courier was brief. The enraged Balaganov first enjoyed stomping…with legsHe put on the balaclava and then approached its owner. As he struck, Shura muttered:

– Who came up with these weights? Who squandered the public funds?
Who scolded Bender?

In addition, the lieutenant’s firstborn recalled the violation of the Sukharev Convention, which cost Panikovsky a few extra punches.

“You will answer for the vest!” Panikovsky shouted angrily, shielding himself with his elbows. “Just so you know, I will never forgive you for that vest! There are no more vests like that for sale now!”!…

In conclusion, Balaganov took an old purse from his opponent, which contained thirty-eight rubles.

– This is for your kefir, you snake! – he said at that moment.

They returned to the city without joy.

In front walked an angry Shura, while behind him, limping on one leg and crying loudly, trailed Panikovsky.

– I’m a poor and miserable old man! – he sobbed. – You will pay for the little sweater!!.Give me my money back.!

– You’ll get it from me! – Shura said, not looking back. – I’ll tell Bender everything.!Adventurer!

Chapter Twenty-One

Varvara Ptiburdikova was happy. Sitting at the round table, she surveyed her household. In the Ptiburdikovs’ room, there was a lot of furniture, leaving almost no free space. But even the area that remained was enough for happiness. The lampthrew awayThe light outside the window trembled like a lady’s brooch, a small green one.twigOn the tablelay therecookies, candies, and pickled pike perch in a round metal box. The kettle collected all the coziness of the bird’s nest on its crooked surface. Inside itreflectedand the bed, and the white curtains, and the nightstand. The reflection of Ptiburdikov himself was visible, sitting across from his wife in a blue pajama with laces. He was happy too. Letting the cigarette smoke pass through his mustache, he was drinking.jigsawfrom plywood
a toy summer house toilet. The work was meticulous. It was necessary to cut out
the walls, add a slanted roof, set up the interior, glaze
the little window, and attach it todoors.microscopic hook. Ptiburdikov worked with passion.,.He considered wood carving the best form of relaxation.

FinishedThe engineer laughed joyfully and patted his wife on her thick waist.,.I leaned back against the warm wall and pulled the box with the pike closer to me. But at that moment, there was a loud knock at the door, the lamp flickered, and the kettle shifted on its wire stand.

– Who could it be so late? – said Ptiburdikov, opening the door.

Vasisualiy Lokhankin was standing on the stairs. He was wrapped up to his beard in a white Marseille blanket, from which hairy legs were sticking out. He was holding a thick, gilded book titled “Man and Woman” against his chest, like an icon. Vasisualiy’s eyes were wandering.

“Welcome,” the engineer said, stunned, taking a step back.Текст для перевода: ..– Varvara, what is this?

“I have come to settle with you forever,” Lokhankin replied in a grave tone, “I hope to find shelter with you.”!

–.Like a shelter“What do you want, Vasisuvaliy Andreevich?” said Ptiburdikov, blushing.

Varvara ran out onto the playground.

– Sashuk! Look, he’s naked! – she shouted. – What happened, Vasisualiy? Come in, come in!!

Lohankin stepped over the threshold with bare feet, mumbling…“misfortune”“Misfortune,” he began to pace the room. With the end of the blanket, he immediately swept the delicate carpentry work of Ptiburduk off the table onto the floor. The engineer stepped into the corner, feeling that nothing good was in store.

– What misfortune? – Varvara asked. – Why are you in just one blanket?

“I have come to live with you forever.”!–
Lokhankin repeated in a cow-like voice.

His yellow drum heel was beating a nervous rhythm on the smooth waxed floor.

– What nonsense are you talking about? – Varvara snapped at her ex-husband. – Go home and get some sleep.Go away! Leave!From here! Go on, go home.Текст для перевода: ..

“There’s no home anymore,” said Vasisauliy, continuing to tremble., – burned downuntil the foundation!.A fire, a fire drove me here. The only things I managed to save were a blanket and a book, and I saved my beloved too. But since you are like this with me…cruel-heartedI will walk away and curse it as well.

Vasisauliy, swaying sadly, headed for the exit. But Varvara and her husband held him back. They pleaded with him.forgivenessThey said they didn’t figure out right away what was going on and got all flustered. A new suit jacket belonging to Ptiburdakov, along with some underwear and shoes, was brought to light.

While Lokhankin was getting dressed, the spouses were having a discussion in the hallway.

“Where can we put him?” whispered Varvara. “He can’t stay with us; we have only one room.”!.

“I marvel at you,” said the kind engineer, “a person is in distress, and you only think about your own well-being.”

When the couple returned to the room, the fire victim was sitting at the table, eating pickled fish straight from an iron box. In addition, two volumes of “resistance“materials,” and they were replaced by the gilded “Man and Woman.”

“Did the whole house really burn down?” Petiburdakov asked sympathetically. “What a nightmare!”

– I think that maybeto be.“That’s how it has to be,” said Vasisauliy, finishing off the host’s dinner.maybeI will emerge from the flames transformed.?.

But he did not change.

When everything had been discussed, the Ptiburdikovs began to settle in for the night. Vasisauliya was given a little mattress on that very patch of floor that just an hour ago had been enough for happiness. The window was closed, the light was turned off, and inThe room became warm and dark, like between the palms.For about twenty minutes, everyone lay in silence, occasionally shifting and sighing heavily. Then, withполы.a lingering whisper from Lokhankin could be heard:

– Varvara! Varvara! Listen, Varvara!

“What do you want?” my ex-wife asked indignantly.

– Why did you leave me, Varvara?

Not waiting for an answer to this fundamental question, Vasysualiy whined:

– You’re a female, Varvara! You’re a she-wolf! A she-wolf, and I
despise you…

The engineer lay motionless in bed, choking with anger and clenching his fists.

“The Crow’s Settlement” caught fire at midnight, just when Ostap Bender was dancing the tango in an empty office, while the milk brothers Balaganov and Panikovsky were leaving the city, bending under the weight of golden weights.

In the long chain of events that preceded the fire in apartment number three,firstThe link was a draw, grandmother. As is well known, she burned kerosene in her attic because she didn’t trust electricity. After the beating of Vasisauliy Andreevich, there hadn’t been any interesting events in the apartment for a long time, and the restless mind of Chamberlain Mitrich was tormented by enforced idleness. After thinking carefully about grandmother’s habits, he became anxious.

– It will burn down, old lady, the whole apartment.,.– he mumbled, – to herWhat about me?one.The piano might cost around two thousand.

Having come to this conclusion, Mitrich insured all his movable property against fire. Now he could be at ease and indifferently watched as his grandmother dragged a large item upstairs.,.a murky bottle of kerosene, holding it in his arms like a child. The first cautious act of Mitrich was noticed by citizen Gigenishvili, who immediately interpreted it in his own way. He approached Mitrich in the corridor and, grabbing him by the chest, threateningly said:

“Do you want to set the whole apartment on fire? Are you looking to collect insurance? Do you think Gigenishvili is an idiot? Gigenishvili understands everything.”!.

And on the same day, the passionate tenant insured himself for a large sum. Upon hearing this news, horror gripped “Voronya Slobodka.” Lyutsia Frantsevna Pferd rushed into the kitchen with wide eyes.

“They will burn us, those scoundrels.”!.You can do as you wish, citizens, but I’m going to get insured right now.!We’ll burn anyway, even if I get the insurance. I don’t want to wander the world because of them.

The next day, the entire apartment was insured, except for Lokhankin and nobody’s grandmother. Lokhankin was reading “Rodina” and noticed nothing, while the grandmother didn’t believe in insurance, just as she didn’t believe in electricity. Nikita Pryakhin brought home the insurance policy with a lilac border and spent a long time examining the watermarks in the light.

“Does that mean the government is stepping in?” he said gloomily. “Offering assistance to the residents? Well, thanks.”Текст для перевода: ..Now, we’ll do as we wish.!

And, hiding the policy under his shirt, Pryakhin went to his room. His words instilled such fear that that night in “Voron’ya Slobodka,” no one slept. Dunya was tying things into bundles, while the other lodgers scattered to spend the night with acquaintances. During the day, everyone kept an eye on each other and gradually carried their belongings out of the house.

Everything was clear. The house was doomed. It couldn’t help but burn down. And,.Indeed, at midnight he burst into flames, ignited simultaneously from six ends.

The last ofhome., which was already filled with the smoke of the samovar, streaked with flames, Lokhankin burst out, covering himself with a white blanket. He was doing his bestshouted ““Fire! Fire!” although no one was surprised by this news. All the residents of “Voron’ya Slobodka” had gathered. Drunk Pryakhin was sitting on his…in the chestwith forged corners. He stared blankly at the flickering windows, muttering, “As we wish, so we shall do.”!Gigenishvili sniffed his hands disdainfully, which smelled of kerosene, and each time afterward, he wiped them on his pants.First FireThe spring burst out of the window, scattering sparks, and unfolded under the wooden cornice. The first pane of glass shattered with a crash and fell out. Nobody’s grandmother let out a terrible howl.

– The house stood for forty years, – Mitrich explained calmly as he walked through the crowd, – it stood through all the authorities, it was a good house. But under the Soviets, it burned down. Such a sad fact, citizens.!

The women of “Voron’ya Slobodka” huddled together, their eyes fixed on the fire. The cannon flames were already bursting from all the windows. Sometimes the fire would vanish, and then the darkened house seemed to recoil, like a cannonball after a shot. And once again, a red-yellow cloud was expelled.from the window, brightly illuminating Lemon Alley. It became hot. It was already impossible to stand near the house, and the crowd moved to the opposite sidewalk.

Only Nikita Pryakhin was dozing on a little chest in the middle of the pavement. Suddenly, he jumped up, barefoot and terrifying.

– Orthodox Christians! – he shouted, tearing his shirt apart. – Citizens!

He ran sideways away from the fire, crashed into the crowd, and, shouting incomprehensible words, began pointing at the burning house. A commotion broke out in the crowd.

– They forgot the child.!“the woman in the straw hat said confidently.”

Nikita was surrounded. He pushed them away with his hands and tried to break free towards the house.

“He’s lying on the bed!” Prakhin shouted frantically. “Let go, I tell you!”

Fiery tears streamed down his face. He struck Gigenishvili, who was blocking his way, and rushed into the yard. A minute later, he ran out of there carrying a ladder.

“Stop him!” shouted the woman in the straw hat. “He’ll burn!”

“Get away, I’m telling you!” Nikita Pryakhin shouted, propping a ladder against the wall and pushing away the young people from the crowd who were grabbing at his legs. “I won’t let her go!”!.The soul burns.!.

He kicked with his legs and climbed up towards the smoking window of the second floor.

“Back!” people shouted from the crowd. “Why did you go up there? You’ll burn!”

“He’s lying on the bed!” Nikita continued to shout.A whole bottle of bread wine!Well, what’s the point of her disappearing, Orthodox citizens?

With unexpected agility, Pryakhin grabbed the window sill and instantly disappeared, pulled inside by the air pump. His last words were: “As we wish, so shall we do.” Silence fell in the alley, interrupted only by the bell and the horn signals of the fire brigade. Axmen rushed into the yard, clad in stiff canvas suits with wide blue belts.

A minute after Nikita Pryakhin made the only
in his entireсвою.Life is a heroic act; a burning log broke away from the house and crashed to the ground. The roof cracked, split apart, and fell inside the house. A shining column rose to the sky, as if a cannonball had been shot from the house to the moon.

Thus perished apartment number three, better known by the name “Raven’s Sloboda.”

Suddenly, a sound was heard in the alley.thunder.Hooves. In the glow of the fire, Engineer Talmudovsky rushed by in a cab. A suitcase covered in labels lay on his lap. Bouncing in his seat, the engineer leaned toward the cab driver and shouted:

–.To the station!I won’t be setting foot here with a salary like that.salaries! Go faster!

And immediately his fat back, illuminated by lights and torches, disappeared around the corner.

Chapter Twenty-Two

I’m dying of boredom; we’ve only been talking for two hours, and you’ve already annoyed me as if I’ve known you my whole life. With such a stubborn character, it’s good to be a millionaire in America. Here, a millionaire needs to be more accommodating.

“You must be crazy!” replied Alexander Ivanovich.

“Don’t insult me,” Bender said calmly. “I am the son of a Turkish subject and, therefore, a descendant of the Janissaries. I will not spare you if you continue to offend me. Janissaries show no mercy to women, children, or underground Soviet millionaires.”

“Get out of here, citizen!” said Koreiko in the voice of a bureaucrat from a Herculean tale. “It’s already three in the morning, I want to sleep, and I have to get up early for work.”

“That’s right, that’s right, I completely forgot!” exclaimed Ostap. “You can’t be late for work. They could fire you without any severance pay. After all, a two-week salary is twenty-three rubles! With your frugality, you could live for six months.”!

– It’s none of your business. Leave me alone. Do you hear me?
Get out of here!

– But this saving will ruin you. It’s certainly not safe for you.to showyour
millions. However, you are trying too hard. Have you thought about what will happen to you
if youThe text for translation: ,.finally,.Can you spend money? Abstinence is a dangerous thing! A French teacher I know, Ernestina Iosifovna Poincaré, never drank wine in her life. And what happened? At one party, she was offered a shot of cognac. She liked it so much that she ended up drinking a whole bottle and immediately, at dinner, went crazy. And the world lost one French teacher. The same could happen to you.

– What the hell do you want to achieve from me?

– That,чего.I wanted to win the affection of my childhood friend Kolya Osten-Baken from my childhood friend, the Polish beauty Inga Zayonts. He was pursuing love. And I am pursuing love too. I want you, citizen Koreyko, to love me, and as a sign of your favor, grant me one million rubles.

“Over there!” Korayko said quietly.

“Well, there you go again, forgetting that I’m a descendant of the Janissaries.”

With these words, Ostap got up from his seat. Now the interlocutors stood facing each other.Pork chopsThere was a stormy expression on his face, and white wisps danced in his eyes. The Great Combinator smiled warmly, revealing his white corn-like teeth. The enemies approached the table lamp closely, and their giant shadows fell on the wall.

“I’ve told you a thousand times,” Koreyko said, holding back, “that I don’t have and never had any millions. Do you understand? Do you understand? Well, then get out.”Текст для перевода: ..I will complain about you.!

– You will never complain about me, – Ostap said significantly, – and I can leave, but I won’t have time to step out onto your Little Tangent Street before you start crying.you will runYou will be begging me to come back, licking my Janissary heels.

– Why would I beg you?

– You will. It’s necessary, like that.loves.To express myself, my friend Vasisauliy Lokhankin, this is indeed the plain truth. Here it is.Текст для перевода: ..

The great combinator placed a folder on the table and, slowly untying his shoelaces, continued:

“Let’s just agree on one thing: no excesses.”Текст для перевода: ..You shouldn’t suffocate me, you shouldn’t
jump out of the window, and most importantly, don’t die fromheart paralysisIf you decide to suddenly pass away right here, you’ll put me in a ridiculous position. The result of my long and diligent work will be lost. In general, let’s have a talk. It’s no secret that you don’t like me. I will never achieve what Kolya Osten-Baken managed to get from Inga Zayonts, my childhood friend. So I won’t sigh in vain, and I won’t grab you by the waist. Consider the serenade over. The balalaikas, gusli, and gilded harps have fallen silent. I have come to you.,.as a legal entity to a legal entity. Here it is.folder.for three to four kilos. It sells for a million rubles, that very million that you, out of greed, don’t want to give me as a gift. Buy it.Текст для перевода: ..

Koreiko leaned over the table and read on the folder: “Case of Alexander Ivanovich Koreiko. Started June 25, 1930. Completed August 10, 1930.”

“How ridiculous!” he said, throwing up his hands. “What a misfortune! First, you came to me with some money, and now you’ve made up this story. It’s just laughable.”

“Well, is the purchase going to happen?” insisted the great schemer. “The price is low. For a kilo of wonderful information from the realm of underground commerce, I’m only asking three hundred thousand.”

– What other information is there?!.“Give it to me,” Koreiko asked roughly, reaching for the folder.

– The most interesting!.– replied Ostap, politely pushing his hand away. – Information about your second and main life, which is strikingly different from your first, the forty-six ruble, Herculean one. Your first life is well known to everyone. From10ti.до.4х.You are for Soviet power. But what about your second life, from…4х.до.10ti.I know one. Did you take the situation into account?

Koreyko didn’t respond. A shadow lay in the sergeant’s creases of his face.

“No,” said the great schemer decisively, “you did not descend from monkeys like all the other citizens, but from a cow. You think very slowly, just like a hoofed mammal. I’m telling you this as a specialist in…”to the cowsand
hooves. So, once againThe text for translation: : u.According to my information, there are about seven to eight million of you. The folder is being sold for a million. If you don’t buy it, I will take it somewhere else right now. They won’t give me anything for it there, not a penny. But you will be doomed. I’m telling you this.,.As a legal entity to a legal entity. I will remain the same poor poet and polygamist that I have always been, but until my very last breath, I will take comfort in the thought that I have freed the public from a great scoundrel.

“Show me the case,” said Koreiko thoughtfully.

“Don’t fuss,” Ostap remarked, opening the folder, “I’ll be the one in charge of the parade. You were informed about this by telegraph some time ago. So, the parade has arrived, and as you can see, I…”I command them.Текст для перевода: ..

Alexander Ivanovich glanced at the first page of the case and, seeing his own photograph stuck to it, smiled unpleasantly and said:

– I don’t quite understand what you want from me. To take a look, I suppose, out of curiosity?

– I’m also curious, – declared the great schemer. – Well then, let’s get started, based on this ultimately innocent feeling. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, Alexander Ivanovich Koreiko was born…в.… However, we can skip over the happy childhood. In that blue period, little Sasha was not yet engaged in commercial robbery. Next comes the rosy adolescence. Let’s skip another page. And here comes youth, the beginning of life,“I’m a handsome twenty-two-year-old.”You can stop here out of curiosity.The first arrest.Page six of the case!…

Ostap turned to the sixth page and announcedcontent
seventhfrom the eighth to the twelfth inclusive.

– And so, gentlemen of the jury, before you lies the case of my client, who has just been involved in some significant dealings, such as the trade of government medications during a time of famine and typhus, as well as supply work that led to the disappearance of a railway route carrying food to the starving Volga region. All these facts, gentlemen of the jury, pique our interest purely out of curiosity.

Ostap spoke in the wretched manner of a pre-revolutionary attorney, who, having latched onto some word, never lets it go and drags it along.его.for themselves
throughout all ten days of the major trial.

– It is also curious that my client appeared in Moscow in1922.The text for translation: in the year…

Alexander Ivanovich’s face maintained a neutral expression, but his hands were aimlessly groping across the table, like those of a blind person.

“Allow me, gentlemen of the jury, to ask you one question. Of course, out of curiosity. What income can two ordinary barrels filled with tap water bring to a person? Twenty rubles? Three rubles? Eight kopecks? No, gentlemen of the jury! They brought Alexander Ivanovich four hundred thousand gold rubles and zero kopecks. True, these barrels had a telling name: ‘The Fishing Cooperative of Chemical Products “Revenge.” However, let’s move on. Pages forty-two to fifty-three. The setting is a small trusting republic. Blue skies, camels, oases, and dandy fellows in golden skullcaps. My defendant is helping to build a power station. I emphasize – helping. Look at his face, gentlemen of the jury!”

EnthusiasticOstap turned to Alexander Ivanovich and pointed at him with his finger. But he couldn’t manage to describe a smooth arc with his hand as the jurors did. The defendant unexpectedly grabbed his hand mid-motion and silently began to twist it. At the same time, the defendant intended to seize the juror’s throat with his other hand. For about half a minute, the opponents struggled against each other, trembling with tension. Ostap’s shirt came undone, and a tattoo flashed in the gap. Napoleon still held a beer mug, but he looked so flushed as if he had already had quite a bit to drink.

– Don’t pressure my psyche! – said Ostap, pulling Koreiko away from himself and catching his breath. – It’s impossible to deal with…!.

“Scoundrel! Scoundrel!” whispered Alexander Ivanovich. “What a scoundrel!”

He sat on the floor, grimacing in pain caused by a descendant of the Janissaries.

– The meeting continues! – Ostap said as if nothing had happened. – And, as you can see, gentlemen of the jury, the ice has been broken. The defendant tried to kill me. Of course, out of childish curiosity. He just wanted to find out what was inside me. I hasten to satisfy that curiosity. Inside there…The text for translation: :.a noble and very healthy heart, excellent lungs, and a liver without any signs of stones. I ask that this fact be recorded in the protocol. And now – let’s continue our games, as the editor of a humor magazine used to say, opening another meeting and looking sternly at his staff.

Alexander Ivanovich was extremely displeased with the games.
The business trip from which Ostap returned was filled with…with young wine and a tender lamb, left extensive traces in the case. There was a copy of the absentia verdict, and plans of the charitable combine drawn on tracing paper.extractsиз.Income Statement, as well as photos of the electric gorge and movie kings.

– And finally, gentlemen of the jury, the third stage of my combative defendant’s activities is modest office work inHERCULESfor society and intensified trade-underground activity – for the soul. Just out of curiosity, let’s note currency speculation.,
with pebblesand other compact items of primary necessity. Finally, let’s focus on a series of self-exploding joint-stock companies with colorful, brazenly cooperative names: “Intensivnik,” “Labor Cedar,” “Saw Assistance,” and “Southern Lumberjack.” And it was not Mr. Funt, a prisoner of private capital, who was behind all this, but my friend, the defendant.

At that moment, the great schemer once again pointed his hand at Koreiko and traced a long-planned dramatic arc. Then, in grandiloquent terms, Ostap asked the imaginary court for permission to pose a few questions to the defendant, and after waiting a minute out of courtesy, he began:

– Did the defendant have any personal dealings with the Hercules member Berlag? No, he did not. That’s correct.Текст для перевода: ..And what about the Hercules guy Skumbrievich? No luck there either. Wonderful.Текст для перевода: ..And what about the Hercules guy Polyhaev?

The millionaire clerk remained silent.

– I have no more questions. Phew!.. I’m tired and I want to eat. Tell me, Alexander Ivanovich, do you have a cold cutlet tucked away? No? What an astonishing poverty, especially considering the amount of money you extracted from the good…HERCULESHere are the handwritten explanations of Polyhaev, the only member of the Hercules club who knew who was hiding behind the guise of a forty-six-ruble clerk. But even he didn’t truly understand who you are. However, I do know. Yes, gentlemen jurors, my client is guilty. This has been proven. But I still allow myself to ask for leniency, on the condition, however, that my client buys a folder from me. I am done.

By the end of the great combinator’s speech, Alexander Ivanovich had calmed down. With his hands in the pockets of his light trousers, he approached the window. The young day was already bustling through the city with the sounds of tram bells. Behind the fence, members of the Osoaviakhim were marching, holding their rifles at odd angles, as if they were carrying hoes. On the galvanized cornice, pigeons strolled, tapping their red, furry feet and occasionally losing their balance. Alexander Ivanovich, who had trained himself to be frugal, turned off the desk lamp and said:

– So it was you who sent me those silly telegrams?

– I, – replied Ostap., – “load”“Oranges in barrels, the Karamazov brothers.” Is that really bad?

– A bit silly.

– And what about the half-idiot beggar? – asked Ostap, feeling that the parade was a success. – Is he good?

– A childish stunt! And the book about millionaires is the same. When you showed up as a Kyiv overseer, I immediately realized you were a petty crook. Unfortunately, I was wrong. Otherwise, there’s no way you would…me wouldfound.

–.You are mistaken!Even an old woman can have her day.devastation, how.Inga said.Zayonts a month after the wedding with my childhood friend Kolya Osten-Baken.

– Well, a robbery is one thing, but weights! Why did you steal my weights?

– What weights? I didn’t steal any weights.

– You’re just too ashamed to admit it. And overall, you’ve made a lot of foolish mistakes.

“Perhaps,” Ostap remarked., – I.I’m not an angel. I have my flaws. However, I got carried away talking to you. The mulattos are waiting for me. Should I go get the money?

– Yes, money! – said Koreiko. – There’s a hitch with the money. The folder is good, no doubt about it, it can be bought, but in calculating my income, you completely overlooked the expenses and direct losses. A million is an absurd figure.

– Before.dates, – it’s coldsaidOstap, please stay home for half an hour. A wonderful carriage will come to pick you up.

“That’s not how things are done,” said Koreyko with a merchant’s smile.

“Maybe,” sighed Ostap, “but you know, I’m not a financier. I’m a free artist and a cold philosopher.”

– For what?The text for translation: female.Do you want to get some money? I earned it, and you…

“I didn’t just work hard. I even suffered. After conversations with Berlag, Skumbrievich, and Polyhaev, I lost faith in humanity. Isn’t that worth a million rubles, faith in humanity?”

“– It’s fine, it’s fine,” Alexander Ivanovich reassured.

“Are we going to the storerooms then?” Ostap asked. “By the way, where do you keep your cash? I assume it’s not in a savings bank?”

– Let’s go.The text for translation: ,.“That’s where you’ll see,” replied Koreyko.

– Maybe it’s far? – Ostap started to fuss. – I can drive the car.

But the millionaire refused the car and stated that he wasn’t going far and that there was no need for any unnecessary fuss. He politely let Bender go ahead and stepped out, taking a small package wrapped in newspaper from the table. As he descended the stairs, Ostap hummed, “Under the scorching sky of Argentina.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

On the street, Ostap took Alexander Ivanovich by the arm, and both con men quickly headed towards the train station.

– You’re better than I thought, – Bender said friendly. – And that’s right. You should part with money easily, without any groans.

“One wouldn’t mind giving a million for a good person,” the clerk replied, listening intently to something.

When they turned onto Mering Street, a wailing sound of a siren swept over the city. The sound was long, wavering, and mournful. In such a sound, on a foggy night, sailors…It becomes notFor some reason, I feel like asking for a raise due to the dangerous nature of my job. The siren continued to wail. It was joined by the distant sounds of land-based horns and other, even sadder sirens. Passersby suddenly hurried along, as if driven by a downpour. Yet everyone was smirking and glancing at the sky. The seed vendors, plump old women, ran with their bellies sticking out, and in their rush baskets, glass cups bounced among the loose goods. Across the street, Adolf Nikolaevich Bomze dashed by. He managed to slip through the revolving door just in time.HERCULESA squad of the mounted police reserve galloped by on colorful horses. A Red Cross vehicle flashed past. The street suddenly cleared. Ostap noticed that a small group of men in blue vests had separated from the former Café Florida far ahead. Waving newspapers, the old men in canotiers and Panama hats hurried along the pavement. But before they could reach the corner, a sound rang out.deafeningA cannon shot rang out, the pikemen ducked their heads, stopped, and immediately ran back. The hems of their chintz jackets…swelledТекст для перевода: ..

The behavior of the pikey vests amused Ostap. While he admired their amazing gestures and jumps, Alexander Ivanovich managed to unpack the bag he had taken from home.

“Lecherous old men! Operetta clowns!” said Ostap.turning aroundto Koreiko.

But.Pork chopsIt wasn’t there. Instead, a stunning face with glass diving goggles and a rubber trunk, at the end of which dangled a tin cylinder in khaki color, was looking at the great schemer. Ostap was so surprised that he even jumped.

– What is this for?pieces.“–” he said ominously, reaching for the gas mask. “Citizen defendant, I urge you to behave yourself.”Текст для перевода: ..

But at that moment, a group of people in the same gas masks rushed in, and among the dozen identical rubber faces, it was impossible to find Koreiko. Holding his folder, Ostap immediately began to look at the legs of the monsters, but as soon as he thought he recognized the widow’s trousers of Alexander Ivanovich, he was grabbed by the arms.The text for translation: ,.and a youthful voice said:

– Comrade! You have been poisoned!

– Who’s been poisoned? – Ostap shouted, breaking free. – Let me go!

“Comrade, you have been poisoned by gas,” the orderly cheerfully repeated. “You have entered a contaminated zone.”!.You see, a gas bomb.

On the pavement, there was indeed a small box from which thick smoke was hastily pouring out. The suspicious pants were already far away. For the last time, they flashed between two streams of smoke and disappeared. Ostap was silently and furiously trying to break free. He was already being held by six masked figures.

“Besides, comrade, you have a shard wound in your arm. Don’t be angry, comrade! Be mindful.”Текст для перевода: ..You know that maneuvers are underway. We’ll bandage you up and take you to the gas shelter now.

The Great Combinator just couldn’t understand that resistance was futile. The player, who had seized the lucky waist at dawn and amazed the entire table, suddenly…The text for translation: ,.In ten minutes, he let everything out to a young man who happened to pass by out of curiosity. And he is no longer sitting there, pale and triumphant, and no longer surrounded by those marathon runners, begging for spare change for good luck. He will walk home.

A young Komsomol member with a red cross on her apron ran up to Ostap. She pulled out bandages and cotton from a canvas bag and, furrowing her brow to keep from laughing, wrapped the arm of the great combinator over his sleeve. After finishing her act of mercy, the girl…after allShe laughed and ran to the next wounded man, who obediently offered her his leg. Ostap was dragged to the stretcher. There, a new struggle broke out, during which the trunks swayed, and the first orderly continued to awaken Ostap’s consciousness and other civic virtues with a loud, lecturing voice.

“Brothers!” the great combinator mumbled as they strapped him to the stretcher. “Please inform my late father, a subject of the Turkish Empire, that his beloved son, a former specialist in horns and hooves, has fallen bravely in battle.”

The last words of the victim on the battlefield were:

– Sleep well, brave eagles.Текст для перевода: ..Nightingale, nightingale, little bird.

After that, they carried Ostap away, and he fell silent, his eyes fixed on the sky, where chaos was beginning. Thick, bright balls of smoke rolled like hearts. At a great height, transparent celluloid planes flew at an uneven angle. From them spread a ringing vibration, as if they were all connected by tin threads. In the brief pauses between the artillery strikes, the sirens continued to wail.

Ostap had to endure yet another humiliation. They carried him past…HERCULESFrom the windowsall.From the four floors of the forestry institution, employees were peering out. The entire financial report was spread out on the windowsills. Lapidus Jr. was scaring Kukushkin by pretending to push him down. Berloga made big eyes and bowed to the stretcher. In the window of the second floor, against the backdrop of palm trees, Polyhaev and Skumbrievich were standing together, embracing. Noticing the tied-up Ostap, they whispered to each other and quickly slammed the window shut.

In front of the sign “Gas Shelter No. 34,” the stretcher stopped. Ostap was helped to get up, and as he tried to break free again, the orderly had to appeal to his sense of responsibility once more.

The gas shelter was located in the community club. It was a long and bright semi-basement withsilverythe ceiling, from which models of military and postal airplanes were suspended on wires. At the back of the club, there was a small stage, with two blue windows painted on the backdrop.luna.and the stars and a brown door. By the wall with the inscription: “We do not want wars, but we are ready to resist” – the pikey vests were milling about, captured by the whole herd. A lecturer in a green frock coat was striding across the stage, glancing discontentedly at the door, which was noisily letting in new groups of the poisoned, and with military clarity he said:

– By the nature of their action, chemical warfare agents are classified into choking, tear-producing, lethal, blistering, irritating, andт.
д.Among the tear gas agents, we can notechloropicrinbromidebenzylbromacetone,chloracetophenoneПожалуйста, предоставьте текст для перевода.

Ostap shifted his gloomy gaze from the lecturer to the audience. The young people were either hanging on the speaker’s every word or taking notes during the lecture.little books, or they were fiddling with the rifle parts at the shield. In the second row, a girl with an athletic build sat alone, thoughtfully gazing at the theatrical moon.

“A good girl,” Ostap thought, “it’s a pity there’s no time. What is she thinking about? Surely not about bromine.”benzylOh dear! Just this morning, I could have escaped with a girl like that somewhere to Oceania, to Fiji.и.или.islands“Living together, or in Rio de Janeiro.”

At the thought of the lost Rio, Ostap began to pace around the shelter.

The tailcoated gentlemen, among forty people, had already recovered from the shock, adjusted their starched collars, and were passionately discussing…Pan.–Europe, about the maritime conference of the three powers and about gandeism.

“Did you hear?” one vest said to the other. “Gandhi has arrived in Dundee.”

–.Gandhi is“Head!” he sighed. “And…”Dundee ishead.

A dispute arose. Some of the vests claimed thatDundee isThe city cannot be governed by a single person. Others, with insane persistence, argued the opposite. In general, everyone agreed that Chornomorsk would be declared a free city in the very near future.

The lecturer frowned again because the door opened.,.And with a noise, new tenants arrived in the room – Balaganov and Panikovsky. A gas attack.caughtupon their return from the night expedition. After working with the weights, they were as dirty as mischievous cats. At the sight of the commander, the milk brothers hung their heads.

“Did you attend the archbishop’s name day celebration?” Ostap asked gloomily.

He was afraid of questions about the progress.“The affairs of Koreiko”, so he furrowed his brows in anger and went on the offensive.

– Well, the geese-swans,where have you been,What have you been up to?

“By God,” said Balaganov, pressing…hand.to the chest. – ThisIt was all Panikovsky’s idea.

– Panikovsky? – the commander said sternly.

“Honest, noble word!” exclaimed the violator of the convention. “You know, Bender, how much I respect you! This is just some Balagan nonsense!”!

– Shura! – Ostap said even more sternly.

– And you believed him??.– With reproach, said the hoof commissioner. – Well, do you really think I would have taken these weights without your permission?

– So you took the weights? – Ostap shouted. – Why on earth?

– Panikovsky said that they are golden.

Ostap looked at Panikovsky. Only now did he notice that under his jacket there was no longer a fifty-kopeck collar, and from there a bare chest was peeking out into the light. Without saying a word, the great schemer collapsed into a chair. He trembled, grasping at the air with his hands. Then volcanic roars erupted from his throat, tears streamed from his eyes, and laughter, which reflected all the fatigue of the night and all the disappointment in the struggle against Koreiko, came forth, so pitifully parodied by the milk brothers., terribleLaughter echoed in the gas shelter. The pikey vests flinched, and the lecturer spoke even louder and more clearly about chemical warfare agents.

Laughter still tingled in Ostap like a thousand tiny needles, but he already felt refreshed and rejuvenated, like someone who had been through all the grooming rituals: the friendship with the razor, the acquaintance with the scissors, the splash of cologne, and even the brushing of his eyebrows with a special brush. The glossy ocean wave had already splashed into his heart, and in response to Balaganov’s question about how things were going, he replied that everything was going splendidly, except for the unexpected flight of a millionaire in an unknown direction.

The milk brothers paid no attention to Ostap’s words. They were pleased that the matter with the weights had gone so smoothly.

“Look, Bender,” said the hoof commissioner, “there’s that young lady over there.”sitting.He always went out with her.

“Is this really Zosia Sinitskaya?” Ostap said with emphasis. “What a coincidence, right in the middle of a noisy ball…”

Ostap pushed his way to the stage, politely stopped the speaker, and after learning that the gas cloud would last another hour and a half to two hours, he thanked him and sat down right there by the stage, next to Zosya. After a while, the girl no longer looked at the painted window., and, indecentLaughing loudly, she was pulling her comb out of Ostap’s hands. As for the great schemer, judging by the movement of his lips, he was speaking.,.without stopping.

They dragged Engineer Talmudovsky into the bomb shelter. He was fending off with two suitcases. His rosy forehead was damp with sweat and shone like a pancake.

– I can’t do anything, comrade! – said the dispatcher. – Maneuvers! You’ve entered a contaminated zone.

“But I was riding in a cab!” the engineer fumed. “In a cab! I’m in a hurry to get to the station for work!”!.

– Comrade, be conscientious!

– WhyThe text for translation: female.“I should be conscious if I was riding in a carriage!” – fumed Talmudovsky.

He insisted on this circumstance as if riding in a cab made the passenger invulnerable and immune to chloropicrin, bromoacetone, and bromide.benzyltheir destructive toxic properties. It is unknown how much longer the Talmudist would have argued with the members of the OSOAVIAKhIM ifб.The new poisoned one didn’t enter the bomb shelter, and judging by the head wrapped in gauze,also injuredThe citizen fell silent at the sight of the new guest and quickly dove into the crowd of tailcoats. But the man in the gauze immediately spotted the stocky figure of the engineer and headed straight for him.

– Finally, I caught you, Engineer Talmudovsky! – he said ominously. – On what grounds did you abandon the factory?

The Talmudic man looked around with his small pig-like eyes. Realizing there was nowhere to run, he sat on his suitcases and lit a cigarette.

“I arrive at his hotel,” the man continued loudly through the gauze, “and they tell me he’s checked out. How is that possible, I ask, if he just arrived yesterday and is contractually obligated to work for a year?”Текст для перевода: ..They say he left with suitcases for Kazan. I was already thinking…,.It’s all over, we have to look for a specialist again, but I caught one.,.He’s sitting there, you see, smoking. You’re a flier, Engineer Talmudovsky! You’re ruining the production!

The engineer jumped down from the suitcases and shouted, “You are ruining the production!” He grabbed the accuser by the waist, led him to the corner, and buzzed at him like a big fly. Soon, fragments of phrases could be heard from the corner: “With a salary like that,” “Go look for it,” “And what about travel expenses?” The man in the gauze looked at the engineer with a sense of longing.

The lecturer had already finished his instructions, demonstrating at the end how to use a gas mask. The doors of the gas shelter had opened, and the pikemen, holding onto each other, ran towards the “Florida.” Talmudov, having shaken off his pursuer, broke free, shouting at the top of his lungs for a cab, while the great combinator was still chatting with Zosya.

– What a woman! – Panikovsky said jealously as he stepped outside with Balaganov. – Oh, if only…б.The weights were golden! I swear, on my honor.б.He married her!

При.mentionAbout the unfortunate weights, Balaganov sharply nudged Panikovsky with his elbow. This was quite timely. In the doorway of the gas shelter, Ostap appeared with a woman on his arm. He took his time saying goodbye to Zosya, gazing at her intently. Zosya smiled one last time and left.

– What were you talking about with her? – Panikovsky asked suspiciously.

– So, nothing much, just the usual stuff, – replied Ostap. – Well, golden squad, let’s get to work! We need to find the client.!

Panikovsky was sent to…HERCULESThe text for translation: ,.Balaганов onthe apartment of Alexander Ivanovich. Ostap himself rushed to the train stations. But the millionaire clerk had vanished. InHERCULESHis name was not removed from the roster, he did not go to the apartment.returnedDuring the gas attack, eight long-distance trains departed from the stations. But Ostap wasn’t expecting any other outcome.

– After all, – he said gloomily, – there’s nothing to worry about. In China, it’s quite difficult to find the right person.There.There are four hundred million people living here. And for us, it’s very easy.. Totalonly.160.millions, three times lighter than in China. As long as there is money. And we have it.

However, Ostap left the bank holding in his hands…hands.thirty-four rubles.

“That’s all that’s left of the ten thousand,” he said with an indescribable sadness, “and I thought there were still about six or seven thousand in the account… How did this happen? Everything was so fun, we were preparing horns and hooves, life was intoxicating, the world was spinning just for us.”,.And suddenly… I understand! Overhead costs! The machine ate all the money.

And he looked at the milk brothers with reproach. Panikovsky shrugged, as if to say, “You know, Bender, how much I respect you! I’ve always said you’re a donkey!” Balaganov, stunned, stroked his curls and asked:

– What.The text for translation: female.What are we going to do?

– What do you mean??.“What’s going on?” Ostap shouted. “And what about the office for collecting horns and hooves? And the inventory? For just one inkwell, any institution would gladly hand over a hundred rubles for ‘Facing the Village’!”!Oh, a typewriter! A hole punch, deer antlers, tables, a barrier, a samovar! All of this can be sold.!Finally, we have Panikovsky’s gold tooth in reserve. Of course, it doesn’t compare in size to weights, but still, it’s a molecule of gold, a noble metal.

The friends stopped by the office. From the open door came the youthful lion-like voices of students from the livestock technical school who had just returned from a business trip, sleepy…mutteringPounds and some other unfamiliar basses and baritones are clearly present.agronomictimbre.

– This is a crime! – shouted the interns. – We were already surprised back then. Only twelve kilos of non-standard horns were prepared for the entire campaign.

– You will be taken to court! – boomed the basses and baritones. – Where is the head of the department? Where is the hoof commissioner??.

Balaganov shuddered.

– The office is dead, – Ostap whispered, – and we are no longer needed here. We will walk down the sunlit road, while Funt will be taken to the red brick house, where thick bars are oddly bolted to the windows by the architect’s strange whim.

The former head of the department was not mistaken. No sooner had the defeated angels distanced themselves from the office by three blocks than they heard the crack of a cab behind them. Funt was in the cab. He would have looked just like a kind old grandfather, rolling away after a long wait.to visitto the married grandson, if it weren’t for the policeman, who, standing on the step, was holding the old man by his prickly back.

– The pound has always been sitting there, – the antelope hunters heard the low, muffled voice of the old man as the crew passed by.,.– The pound was sitting with Alexander.the second liberator, during Alexander’s reignthe third peacekeeperduring Nicholas the Second– bloody, during Alexander Fedorovich Kerensky’s time…

And, counting the kings and the jurors, Funt was bending his fingers.

“– And now what are we going to do? – asked Balaganov.”

“Please don’t forget that you are living in the same time frame as Ostap Bender,” said the great con artist sadly. “I ask you to remember that he has a wonderful suitcase, which contains everything needed to make some pocket money. Let’s go home, to Lokhankin.”

In Lemon Alley, they were met with a new blow.

“Where is the house?” Ostap exclaimed. “It’s right here…”The text for translation: the same.Just last night, there was a house.!

But there was no home, no “Crow’s Settlement.” Only the insurance inspector stepped cautiously on the charred beams. Finding a canister of kerosene in the backyard, he sniffed it and shook his head in doubt.

– Well, nowwell then“?” – asked Balaganov, smiling nervously.

The great combinator did not respond. He was overwhelmed by the loss of the suitcase. The magical bag had burned, and inside it were an Indian turban, a poster that read “The Priest Has Arrived,” a doctor’s gown, and a stethoscope. There was so much in there!

“Here,” Ostap finally said, “fate plays with a person, and a person plays the trumpet.”

They trudged through the streets, pale, disappointed, and numbed by grief. Passersby jostled them, but they didn’t even react. Panikovsky, who had shrugged his shoulders during the failure at the bank, kept them raised. Balaganov was tugging at his red curls and sighing in dismay. Bender walked behind everyone, his head down, absently murmuring, “The day of fun is over, it’s all over.”. S.“Fire, my little Zouave.”

In such a state, they dragged themselves to the inn. In the back, under the awning, there was a yellowish glow.AntelopeOn the tavern porch sat Kozlevich. Breathing sweetly, he sipped hot tea from a saucer. He had a red, pot-bellied face. He was in bliss.

– Adam! – said the great schemer, stopping in front of the driver. – We have nothing left. We are destitute, Adam! Take us in! We are perishing!!.

Kozlevich stood up. The commander, humiliated and poor, stood before him with his head uncovered. Adam Kazimirovich’s bright Polish eyes sparkled with tears. He stepped down from the stairs and embraced each of the Antilopov members in turn.

“Taxi’s free!” he said, swallowing tears of pity. “Please, get in.”

– But maybe we’ll have to travel far, very far, – Ostap said, – maybe to the edge of the earth, or perhaps even further. Think about it.Текст для перевода: ..

– Wherever you want! – replied the loyal Kozlevich. – The taxi is free!

Panikovsky was crying, covering his face with his fists and whispering:

– What a heart! An honest, noble word! What a heart!!…

Chapter Twenty-Four

Regarding everything that the great schemer did in the days following the move to the inn, Panikovsky spoke with great disapproval.

“– Bender is going crazy!” he said to Balaganov. “He’ll ruin us completely!”

And in fact, instead of trying to stretch the last thirty-four rubles as long as possible, spending them solely on food, Ostap went to a flower shop and bought a large, blooming bouquet of roses for thirty-five rubles. He borrowed the missing ruble from Balaganov. Among the flowers, he placed a note: “Do you hear how my big heart beats?” Balaganov was instructed to deliver the flowers to Zosya Sinitskaya.

– What are you doing? – said Balaganov, waving a bouquet. – Why the fancy stuff?

– We need to, Shura, we need to, – replied Ostap. – There’s nothing we can do about it.Текст для перевода: ..I have a big heart. Like a calf’s. And anyway, it’s not about the money. What you need is an idea.

Following that, Ostap settled intoAntelopeand asked Kozlevich to take him somewhere outside the city.

“I need to,” he said, “to reflect in solitude on everything that has happened and make the necessary forecasts for the future.”

All day long, faithful Adam drove the great combinator along the white coastal roads, past holiday homes and sanatoriums, where vacationers were slapping their slippers, hammering croquet balls, or jumping near volleyball nets. The barbed wire emitted cello-like sounds. Summer residents dragged blue eggplants and melons in their carpet bags. Young men with handkerchiefs on their wet hair from swimming boldly gazed into the eyes of women and offered compliments, a full set of which was available to every Black Sea local under the age of twenty-five. If two summer residents walked by, the young Black Sea men would call out after them: “Oh, how pretty that one is, the one on the edge!”It seems that there is no text provided for translation. Please provide the text you would like me to translate.They laughed heartily. They were amused by the fact that the summer cottage ladies would never be able to figure out to whom the compliment was directed. If they happened to encounter just one summer cottage lady, the jokers would stop, as if struck by lightning, and would smooch their lips for a long time, pretending to be in a state of romantic longing. The young summer cottage lady would blush and dash across the road, dropping her blue eggplants, which would provoke uproarious laughter from the womanizers.

Ostap was half-reclining on the hard antelope cushions, lost in thought. He couldn’t manage to get money from Polyhaev or Skumbrievich – the Hercules crew had gone on vacation. The crazy accountant from Berlag was not a consideration.–.One could not expect a good milk yield from him. Meanwhile, Ostap’s plans and his big heart required him to stay in Chornomorsk. He would now find it difficult to determine the duration of this stay.

Hearing a familiar ghostly voice, Ostap looked down at the sidewalk. Behind the poplar hedge, an older couple was walking arm in arm. The spouses were apparently heading to the shore. Behind them, Lokhankin was trailing along. He was carrying a lady’s umbrella and a basket, from which a thermos was sticking out and a bathing sheet was hanging down.

“Varvara,” he drawled, “listen, Varvara!”

“What’s wrong, my sorrow?” asked Ptiburdikova, without turning around.

– I want to possess you, Varvara!..

“– No, what a scoundrel!” remarked Ptiburdikov, also not turning around.

And the strange family disappeared in the antelope dust.

When the dust settled on the ground, Bender saw a large glass studio against the backdrop of the sea and the flowerbed. Plaster lions with dirty muzzles sat byfoothillsa wide staircase. A restless scent of pear essence wafted from the atelier. Ostap sniffed the air and asked Kozlevich to stop. He got out of the car and began to inhale the invigorating aroma of the essence once more.

–.How is it?“I didn’t realize it right away!” he muttered, fidgeting by the entrance.

He fixed his gaze on the sign “1st Black Sea Film Studio,” stroked the warm mane of the lion at the stairs, and said, “Golconda,” before quickly heading back to the inn.

All night he sat by the window, writing by the light of a kerosene lamp. The wind, rushing in through the window, shuffled the pages he had written on. Before the writer lay a rather unappealing landscape. The delicate moon illuminated a not-so-grand inn. The inn breathed and stirred, andsnoredIn the dream, invisible horses were tapping in the dark corners. Small-time speculators slept on their carts, using their miserable goods as makeshift bedding. A loose horse wandered around the yard, carefully stepping over the shafts, dragging behind it…Text for translation: itself.a halter and a snout in the harness,.In search of barley. She approached the window of the writer and, resting her head on the windowsill, looked at Ostap with sadness.

“Go on, go on, horse,” remarked the great schemer, “this is not your business!”

Before dawn, when the inn began to come to life and a boy with a bucket of water was already wandering among the carts, calling out in a thin voice, “Who needs their horses watered?”, Ostap finished his work and took out of…дела.“Korayko” a blank sheet of paper and wrote the heading on it:

“Neck” Full-length film. Screenplay by O. Bender

At the First Black Sea Film Studio, there was a commotion like the kind you only see at horse fairs, and it happened at that very moment when everyone was trying to catch something together.pickpocketТекст для перевода: ..

In the entrance hall, the guard was sitting. He strictly demanded passes from everyone entering, but if they didn’t have one, he would let them in anyway. People in blue berets encountered those in work overalls, scattered across the numerous staircases, and immediately ran down those same stairs. In the lobby, they would circle around, pause for a second, staring blankly ahead, and then set off again.to runThey rushed up with such urgency, as if they were being whipped from behind with a wet rag. Assistants, consultants, experts, administrators, directors with their aides, lighting technicians, editors and sound engineers, elderly screenwriters, comma managers, and keepers of the great cast-iron seal flew by in a frenzy.

Ostap, who had started to stroll around the film studio in his usual manner, soon realized that he couldn’t quite engage with this bustling world. No one answered his questions, and no one stopped to talk.

– We need to adapt to the opponent’s characteristics, – said Ostap.

He quietly started running and immediately felt a sense of relief. He even managed to exchange a few words with some aide. Then the great schemer ran as fast as he could and soon noticed that he had fallen into the rhythm. Now he was running nose to nose with the head of the literary department.

“Script!” Ostap shouted.

“Which one?” asked the stage manager, tapping out a steady rhythm.

– Good one! – replied Ostap, leaning forward by half a body.

– I’m asking you, which one? Silent or sound?

– Mute.

Easily swinging his legs in thick stockings, the stage manager bypassed Ostap at the turn and shouted:

– Don’t.Текст для перевода: ..

– So that meanshow not“Do we need to?” asked the great schemer, starting to jump heavily.

– Oh, like this.Текст для перевода: ..Silent films are no longer around. Consult the sound engineers.

Both of them paused for a moment, staring at each other in shock, and then ran off in different directions. Five minutes later, Bender, waving a manuscript, was running again in good company, flanked by two trotting consultants.

“Script!” Ostap announced, breathing heavily.

The consultants, working together to pull the levers, turned to Ostap.Текст для перевода: ..

– What scenario?

– Sound.

“Don’t do that,” the consultants replied, picking up the pace.

And the greatThe combinator tripped again and shamefully started hopping around.

– How come?this is notDo you need it?

– Well, that’s just it. There’s no sound film yet.

In half an hour of diligent pondering, Bender grasped the delicate situation at the First Black Sea Film Studio. The delicacy lay in the fact that silent films were no longer in operation due to the advent of the sound film era, while sound films were not yet functioning because of organizational issues related to the phasing out of silent films.

In the midst of the workday, when the hustle and bustle of assistants, consultants, experts, administrators, directors, aides, and lighting technicians is at its peak,screenwritersand the keepers of the large cast-iron seal reached the agility of the famous “Krepysh” of its time, rumors spread that somewhere,.in some roomThe text for translation: ,.A man is sitting there, urgently working on sound cinema. Ostap jumped up into the large office and stopped, struck by the silence. At the table sat a small man sideways, with a Bedouin…with a beard ingolden
pince-nez with a string. Bending down, he struggled to pull off his shoe.

“Hello, comrade!” the great schemer said loudly.

But.little personHe didn’t answer. He took off his shoe and started shaking the sand out of it.

– HelloThe text for translation: ,.– Ostap repeated. – I brought the script.Текст для перевода: ..

The man with the Bedouin-style beard leisurely put on a shoe and silently began to lace it up. Once he finished, he turned to his papers and, closing one eye, started to write.palescribbles.

– What.The text for translation: f.“Are you silent?” Bender shouted with such force that the telephone receiver on the filmmaker’s table clattered.

Only then did the filmmaker lift his head, look at Ostap, and say:

– Please speak louder. I can’t hear you.

“Write him notes,” advised a passing consultant in a colorful vest, “he’s deaf.”

Ostap sat down at the table and wrote on a scrap of paper:

“Are you a sound engineer?”

“Yes,” replied the deaf man.

“I brought the sound script. It’s called ‘Neck,’ a folk tragedy in six parts,” Ostap quickly wrote.

The deaf man looked at the note through his gold pince-nez and said:

– WonderfulТекст для перевода: ..We’ll get you involved in the work right away. We need fresh energy.

“I’m glad to help. What do you mean by advance?” he wrote.Ostap.Текст для перевода: ..

– “Neck”The text for translation: ,.“That’s exactly what we need!” said the deaf man. “Stay here, I’ll be right back. Just don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back in exactly a minute.”

The deaf man grabbed the script for the feature film “Neck” and slipped out of the room.

– We’ll pull you into the sound group! – he shouted, hiding behind the door. – I’ll be back in a minute.

After that, Ostap sat in the office for an hour and a half, but the deaf man did not return. Only when he stepped out onto the stairs and got into the rhythm did Ostap learn that the deaf man had long since left in a car and would not be coming back today. In fact, he would never return here because he had been suddenly transferred to Uman to conduct cultural work among the cart drivers. But the worst part was that the deaf man had taken the script for the feature film “The Neck.” The great schemer broke away from the circle of runners, whose pace was quickening, and dazedly sank onto a bench, leaning against the shoulder of the doorman sitting nearby.

– Here you go.и.“I!” said the Swiss suddenly, apparently developing a thought that had been troubling him for a long time. “The assistant manager Terentyev told me to grow a beard. He said, ‘You’ll either play Nebuchadnezzar or…’”BaltazarIn the movie, I don’t remember the title. I even grew a beard, look how big it is!,.patriarchalТекст для перевода: ..And now what to do with it, with the beard?
The manager says.,.There won’t be any more silent films, and in sound films, he says, it’s impossible for you to act because your voice is unpleasant. So here I am, sitting with a beard, ugh, like a goat! I don’t want to shave it off, but it’s embarrassing to wear. That’s how I live.

“Are you filming?” Bender asked, gradually coming to his senses.

– What kind of shoots could there be? – the bearded Swiss replied seriously.– last year’sA silent film about Roman life was made that year. They still can’t settle the lawsuit regarding the criminal case.

“Why are they all running around?” inquired the great schemer, pointing at the staircase.

“Not everyone runs here,” the doorman remarked, “for example, our friend Suprugov doesn’t run. He’s a businesslike man. I’m thinking of going to him about the beard, to find out how they’ll pay for it: by the list or with a separate order…”

Hearing the wordorder.Ostap went to Suprugov. The doorman wasn’t lying. Suprugov wasn’t jumping up and down the floors, nor was he wearing an alpine beret, nor did he even have on any foreign-style trousers. He was a pleasant sight to behold.

He met the Great Combinator in an extremely dry manner.

“I’m busy,” he said in a peacock-like voice, “but I can…”dedicate twominutes.

– That’s more than enough, – Ostap began. – My script “Neck”…

“Anyway,” said Suprugov.

– The script “Neck”…

– Are you saying clearly what you need?

– “Neck”…

– In short. How much do you need?

– I have some kind of dull…

“Comrade! If you don’t tell me how much you need right now, I’ll ask you to leave. I don’t have time.”

– Nine hundred rubles, – muttered the great schemer.

– Three hundredThe text for translation: ,.– I categorically declare,
the spouses. – Take what you need and leave. And keep in mind, you stole an extra minute and a half from me.

The husband wrote a note to the accounting department in a bold hand, passed it to Ostap, and grabbed the phone receiver.

Stepping out of the accounting office, Ostap shoved the money into his pocket and said:

– Nebuchadnezzar is right. There’s only one businessman here – and that’s Suprugov.

Meanwhile, the hustle and bustle of running up and down the stairs, the whirling, squealing, and cackling at the First Black Sea Film Studio reached its peak.Aide-de-camp girlsThey bared their teeth. The managers led a black goat, admiring its photogenic qualities. Consultants, experts, and keepers of the cast-iron seal bumped into each other and laughed hoarsely. A courier rushed by with a broom. The great schemer even imagined that one of the assistant graduate students in blue trousers soared above the crowd, circled the chandelier, and settled on the cornice.

В.At that very moment, the chime of the lobby clock rang out.

– Bammm!– The clock struck.

The screams and squawks shook the glass studio. Assistants, consultants, experts, and editors were tumbling down the stairs. A pile-up began at the exit doors.

– Bammm! Bammm!– The clock struck.

Silence crept out from the corners. The keepers of the great seal had vanished, along with the caretakers of commas, the administrators, and the aides. The last glimpse was of the courier’s broom.

– Bammm!– the clock struck four for the fourth time.

There was no one left in the atelier. Only in the doorway, snagged on the copper handle with the pocket of his jacket, a graduate assistant in blue trousers was struggling, whining pitifully and scratching the marble floor with his hooves.

The workday has ended.

From the shore, the crowing of a rooster could be heard from the fishing village.

When the antelope fund was replenished with movie money, the authority of the commander, somewhat diminished after Koreiko’s escape, was strengthened. Panikovsky was given a small amount for kefir and promised gold teeth. Ostap bought Balaganov a jacket and threw in a leather wallet that squeaked like a saddle. Although the wallet was empty, Shura often took it out and looked inside. Kozlevich received fifty rubles for purchasing gasoline.

The antelopes were leading.honest, moral, almost rural life. They helped the innkeeper restore order and got up to speed on the prices.на.barley and sour cream. Panikovsky would sometimes go out into the yard, anxiously opening the mouth of the nearest horse, looking inside.на.teeth and
mumbled: “Good stallion,” even though a kind mare stood before him.

Only the commander would disappear for whole days, and when he showed up at the inn, he was cheerful and absent-minded. He would join his friends who were drinking tea in the dirty glass gallery, propping his strong leg in a red boot up on his knee, and would say amiably:

“Is life really beautiful, Panikovsky, or is it just my imagination?”

– Where are you going crazy? – the jealous convention violator asked.

– Old man! This girl isn’t about you, – replied Ostap.

Meanwhile, Balaganov laughed sympathetically and examined the new wallet, while Kozlevich smirked into his conductor’s mustache. He had already taken the commander and Zosya for a ride more than once.Primorskyhighway.

The weather was favorable for love. The tailcoated gentlemen claimed that there hadn’t been an August like this since the days of the free port. The night revealed a clear, telescopic sky, while the day brought a refreshing sea breeze to the city. The street vendors at their gates sold striped monastery watermelons, and the citizens strained to squeeze the melons from the ends, tilting their ears to catch the desired crack. In the evenings, sweaty, happy football players returned from the sports fields. Behind them, kicking up dust, ran the boys. They pointed at the famous goalkeeper and sometimes even lifted him onto their shoulders, carrying him with respect.

One evening, the commander warned the crew.Antelopesthat the next day there would be a big fun outing outside the city with the distribution of treats.

– Given that our children’s morning performance will be attended by a certain young lady, – Ostap said significantly, – I would ask the gentlemen to wash their faces, tidy themselves up, and most importantly…,.Avoid using rude language during the trip.

Panikovsky was very agitated, begged the commander for three rubles, ran to the bathhouse, and then spent the whole night cleaning and scrubbing himself, like a soldier before a parade. He got up earlier than everyone else and hurried Kozlevich along. The Antilopovites looked at Panikovsky with surprise. He was clean-shaven.и.powdered so much that he resembledcranberries in
sugarHe kept tugging at his jacket and struggled to turn his neck in the Oscar Wilde-style collar.

During the walk, which went well and was fun,Panikovsky maintained a rather dignified demeanor. When he was introduced to Zosya, he elegantly bent at the waist, but he was so flustered that even the powder on his cheeks turned red. Sitting in the car, he tucked his left leg in, hiding…tornboot, from whichglanced througha big thumb. Zosya was wearing a white dress trimmed with red thread. She really liked the Antilopov family. She was amused by the rude Shura Balaganov, who spent the whole journey combing his hair with a “Sobinov” comb. Sometimes he would clean his nose with his finger, after which he would definitely take out a handkerchief and fan himself languidly. Adam Kazimirovich was teachingher.to manageAntelope, which also won her favor. It was a bit confusing.Zosya.Panikovsky. She thought that he didn’t talk to her out of pride. But more often than not, she found herself gazing at the medal-adorned face of the commander.

At sunset, Ostapdistributedthe promised treats. Kozlevich received a keychain in the shape of a compass, which matched perfectly with his thick silver watch.Текст для перевода: ..Balahанов was presented with a “Reader-Declamer” inin cardboardпереплете, аPanikovsky
pinktie with blue flowers.

– And now, my friends, – said Bender, whenAntelopeI returned to the city – Zosya Viktorovna and I will take a little walk, but it’s time for you to head to the inn, bye-bye.

Already.The inn fell asleep, and Balaganov with Kozlevich…they were playing nasal trillsPanikovsky, with a new tie around his neck, wandered among the submarines, wringing his hands in silent despair.

– What a woman! – he whispered. – I love her like a daughter!

Ostap was sitting on the steps of the museum of antiquities with Zosya.По.On the lava-paved square, young people strolled, chatting and laughing. The windows of the international sailors’ club glowed behind a row of plane trees. Foreign sailors in soft hats walked in pairs and threes, exchanging incomprehensible brief remarks.

“Why did you fall in love with me?” Zosia asked, touching Ostap’s hand.

“You are gentle and amazing,” the commander replied, “you are the best in the world.”

They sat for a long time in the black shadow of the museum columns, thinking about the little one.своем.Happiness. It was warm and dark, like between the palms.

– Remember, I told you about…Koriyke“? – said Zosya suddenly. – About the one who proposed to me.”?.

“Yes,” Ostap said absently.

“He’s a very funny person,” Zosia continued. “Do you remember I told you how unexpectedly he left?”

“Yes,” Ostap said more attentively, “he’s very amusing.”

– Imagine, today I received a letter from him.Veryfunny…

– What? – exclaimed the lover, getting up from his seat.

“Are you jealous?” Zosya asked playfully.

– M-m, a little. What is that pervert writing to you?

– He’s not a sleazebag at all. He’s just a very unhappy and poor man. Sit down, Ostap. Why did you get up? Seriously, I don’t like him at all. He’s asking me to come visit him.

– Where, where should I arrive? – Ostap shouted. – Where is he?

– No, I won’t tell you. You’re too jealous. You might end up killing him.

– Oh, come on, Zosya! – the commander said cautiously. – I’m just curious to know where these people settle down.

– Oh, he’s very far away.Текст для перевода: ..He says he found a very lucrative job; he was paid little here. Now he’s working on the Eastern construction site.highwaysТекст для перевода: ..

– Where?

– Honestly, you’re too curious! You can’t be such an Othello!

– I swear, Zosya, you make me laugh. Do I really look like an old foolish Moor? I just wanted to know which part of the East…highwaysPeople are getting settled.

– I’ll tell you if you want. He works as a timekeeper at…northern“In the settlement,” the girl said briefly, “but that’s just what it’s called – a settlement.”В.It’s actually a train. Alexander Ivanovich described it to me in great detail. This train lays down the tracks. Do you understand? And it moves along them. Meanwhile, coming from the south, there’s another town just like it. They will meet soon. Then there will be a grand connection. All of this is happening in the desert, he writes, with camels… Isn’t that interesting?

– It’s incredibly interesting, – said the great schemer, running under the columns. – You know what, Zosia, we need to go. It’s already late. And it’s cold. And…The text for translation: ,.Let’s go!

He lifted Zosya off the steps, brought her to the square, and here he hesitated.

“Are you not going to walk me home?” she asked anxiously.Zosia.Текст для перевода: ..

– What? – said Ostap. – Oh, home? You see, I…

“Alright,” Zosya said curtly, “until…”datesAnd don’t come to me again. Do you hear?

But the great schemer heard nothing anymore. After running a block, he stopped.

“Delicate and amazing!” he murmured.

Ostap turned back, following his beloved. For about two minutes, he rushed under the black trees. Then he stopped again, took off his captain’s cap, and began to pace in place.

“– No, this is not Rio de Janeiro!” he finally said.

He put it on his head.he put on his cap and, without thinking twice, rushed to the inn.

That same nightfrom the yard, faintly shining its headlights, drove outAntelopeThe sleepy Kozlevich was straining to turn the steering wheel. Balaganov had managed to fall asleep in the car during the brief preparations.Текст для перевода: ..Panikovsky sadly looked around.through the eyes, shivering from the night chill. Traces of festive powder were still visible on his face.

“– The carnival is over!” – shouted the commander, whenAntelopeWith a clatter, it passed under the railway bridge. – The harsh weekdays are beginning.!

In the room of the old puzzler, by a bouquet of dried roses, a gentle and astonishing girl was crying.

Chapter Twenty-Five

The antelope was feeling unwell. It would stop even on gentle inclines and literally roll backward; strange noises and wheezing could be heard from the engine, as if someone were being choked under the yellow hood of the car. The vehicle was overloaded. In addition to the crew, it was carrying a large supply of fuel. Gasoline sloshed in the cans and bottles that filled all the available space. Kozlevich shook his head, pressed the gas pedal, and looked at Ostap with a sense of despair.

– Adam, – said the commander, – you are our father, we are your children. Set course to the east! You havebeautifulnavigational instrument,.compass keychain. Don’t lose your way!

The antelope hunters had been on the move for three days, but aside from Ostap, no one really knew the final destination of their new journey. Panikovsky gazed longingly at the shaggy cornfields and timidly stammered:

– Why are we going again? What’s the point of all this? It was so nice in Chornomorsk.

And when he remembered the wonderful woman, he sighed deeply. Besides, he was hungry, and there was nothing to eat.–.The money has run out.

– Forward! –answeredOstap: “Don’t whine, old man.”!You will find golden teeth, a plump little widow, and a whole pool of kefir waiting for you. I will buy Balaganov a sailor suit and enroll him in primary school. There he will learn to read and write, which is absolutely necessary at his age. And Kozlevich, our faithful Adam, will get a new car. What kind do you want, Adam Kazimirovich?“Studebaker”?.“Lincoln”?.“Royce”?.“Spanish-Swiss”?.

–.“Izotta-Fraschini”“– said Kozlevich.”,.blushing.

– Alright. You will receive it. It will be calledAntelope-Twoили.Daughter of the Antelope“Whatever you prefer. But right now, there’s no need to be downcast. I will ensure your enjoyment. True, my suitcase has burned, but I still have some fireproof ideas. If things get really bad, we can stop in some cheerful little town and hold a Seville-style bullfight there. Panikovsky will be the picador. Just that alone will spark unhealthy public interest.”The text for translation: ,.and, consequently, a huge collection.

The car moved along the wide path marked by the tracks of tractor wheels. The driver suddenly hit the brakes.

“Where to go?” he asked. “Three roads.”

The passengers climbed out of the car and, stretching their tired legs, walked a little further. At the crossroads stood a slanted stone pillar, on which sat a fat crow. The flattened sun was setting behind the cornfields. The narrow shadow of Balaganov stretched toward the horizon. The earth was slightly touched by a dark hue, and the leading star timely signaled the onset of night.

Three roads lay before the antelope people.–.asphalt, highway, and dirt road. The asphalt was still yellowing in the sun, a blue haze hung over the highway, and the dirt road was completely dark, disappearing into the field just beyond the post. Ostap shouted at a crow, which was very startled but did not fly away, wandered in thought at the intersection, and said:

“I declare the conference of Russian heroes open! Present are: Ilya Muromets – Ostap Bender, Dobrynya Nikitich – Balaganov, and Alyosha Popovich – the esteemed Mikhail Panikovsky.”

Kozlevich, taking advantage of the stop, crawled under.Antelopewith a wrench, and therefore was not included in the number of
heroes.

– Dear Dobrynya, – ordered Ostap, – please stand on the right.. MonsieurPopovich, take your seat on the left side.Текст для перевода: ..Press your palms to your forehead and gaze ahead.

– What kind of jokes are these? – Alexey Popovich exclaimed indignantly. – I’m hungry. Let’s hurry up and go somewhere!Текст для перевода: ..

– It’s shameful, Alyoshka, – said Ostap, – stand up like a true knight should. And think it over. Look at how Dobrynya carries himself. You could write an epic about him right now. So, heroes, which road should we take? Which one has the money we need for our current expenses? I know Kozlevich would head for the asphalt; drivers love good roads. But Adam is an honest man, and he doesn’t understand life very well. Asphalt is of no use to knights. It probably leads to a grain giant. We’ll get lost there in the noise of the cars. We might even get crushed by some…caterpillaror with a combine harvester. Dying under a combine harvester is boring. No, heroes, we won’t be taking the asphalt road. Now it’s a highway. Kozlevich, of course, wouldn’t refuse it either. But believe me, Ilya Muromets, the highway is not for us. Let them accuse us of being backward, but we will not travel this road. My intuition tells me we’ll encounter some tactless collective farmers and other exemplary citizens. Besides, they have no time for us. Numerous literary and musical brigades are currently roaming their collectivized lands, gathering materials for agro-poems and garden cantatas. The only option left is the dirt road, citizens heroes! Here we go!he is ancienta magical path that will be takenAntelope!Here is the spirit of Russia! Here it smells of Rus! Here the dying firebird still flies, and people of our profession are rewarded with golden feathers. Here, she still sits on her chests.Koshchei., who considered himself
immortal and is now horrified to realize that his end is near. But we, my
friends, will gain something from him, especially if we present ourselves
as wandering monks. From a road engineering perspective, this
fairy tale path is dreadful. But for us, there is no other way. Adam! We are going!

Kozlevich sadly drove the car onto the dirt road, where it immediately started swerving, leaning to the side, and tossing the passengers high into the air. The antelope crew grabbed onto each other, muttering curses under their breath and bumping their knees against the hard cans.

“I want to eat!” moaned Panikovsky. “I want a goose! Why did we leave Chernomorsk?”The text for translation: ?…

The car screeched as it pulled out of the deep rut, only to sink back into it again.

“Hang in there, Adam!” Bender shouted. “Whatever it takes, hold on! Just let…”Antelopewill take us to Vostochnayahighways…and we will reward her with golden tires adorned with swords and ribbons!

Kozlevich wasn’t listening. The steering wheel was slipping from his hands with the crazy turns.A.Panikovsky continued to languish.

– Bender, – he suddenly rasped, – you know how much I respect you, but you don’t understand anything! You don’t know what a goose is! Oh, how I love that bird! It’s wonderful.The text for translation: ,.A fat bird, I swear on my honor. A goose! Bender! A little wing! A neck! A leg! You know, Bender, how I catch a goose? I kill it like a matador – with one strike. It’s an opera when I go after a goose! “Carmen”!

“We know,” said the commander, “we saw it in Arbatov. I wouldn’t recommend it a second time.”

Panikovsky fell silent, but just a minute later, when a new jolt from the machine threw him against Bender, his feverish whisper was heard again:

– Bender! He’s walking down the road. A goose! This wonderful bird is walking around, and I’m just standing here pretending it doesn’t concern me. He’s coming closer. Now he’s going to hiss at me. These birds think they’re stronger than everyone else, and that’s their weak point. Bender! That’s their weak point!..

Now the violator of the convention was almost singing.Текст для перевода: ..

– He’s coming at me and hissing like a gramophone. But I’m not one of those timid types, Bender! Anyone else in my place would have run away, but I stand my ground and wait. Here he comes, stretching out his neck, that white goose neck with a yellow beak. He wants to bite me. Notice, Bender, the moral high ground is on my side. I’m not the one attacking him; he’s attacking me. And then, in self-defense, I grab…

But Panikovsky didn’t have time to finish his speech. A terrible, nauseating crack echoed, and the antelope people found themselves on the road in a variety of positions in an instant. Balaganov’s legs were sticking out of the ditch. On the belly of the great combinator lay a canister of gasoline. Panikovsky groaned, lightly pinned down by a spring. Kozlevich got to his feet and, swaying, took a few steps.

AntelopesThere was nothing left. A hideous pile of debris lay on the road: pistons, cushions, springs. The copper bits gleamed under the moonlight. The wrecked body had slid into the ditch and lay next to the revived Balaganov. A chain slithered into the rut like a snake. In the ensuing silence, a thin chime was heard, and from somewhere on the hillside, a wheel rolled down, apparently…,.thrown far away by the impact. The wheel traced an arc and gently settled at the feet of Kozlevich.

And only then did the driver realize that it was all over.AntelopeShe died. Adam Kazimirovich sat down on the ground and cradled his head in his hands. After a few minutes, the commander touched him on the shoulder and said in a changed voice:

– Adam, we need to go.

Kozlevich stood up and immediately sat back down in his previous spot.

“Let’s go,” Ostap repeated.AntelopeIt was a reliable car, but there are many more cars in the world. Soon you’ll be able to choose any of them. Let’s go, we need to hurry. We need to find somewhere to spend the night, get something to eat, and come up with some money for tickets. We’ll have to travel a long way. Come on, come on, Kozlevich.Текст для перевода: ..Life is beautiful, despite its flaws. Where is Panikovsky? Where is that
little goose thief? Shura! Bring Adam!

Kozlevich was dragged along by his arms. He felt like a cavalryman whose horse had died due to his negligence. It seemed to him that now all the pedestrians would laugh at him.

After the deathAntelopesLife became difficult all of a sudden. They had to spend the night in the field. Ostap fell asleep angrily right away, while Balaganov and Kozlevich also dozed off, but Panikovsky sat by the fire all night, shivering. The Antilopovites got up at dawn, but they could only reach the nearest village by four in the afternoon. All along the way, Panikovsky lagged behind. He was limping. From hunger, his eyes had taken on a cat-like gleam, and he kept complaining about his fate and the commander without stopping.

In the village, Ostap ordered the crew to wait at the…thirdthe street and not to leave anywhere, but he went tofirst, to the village council. He returned quite quickly from there.

“Everything is arranged,” he said with a cheerful voice, “they’ll put us in an apartment now and let us have lunch. After lunch, we’ll relax on the hay. Do you remember…?”? – Milkand hayТекст для перевода: ..In the evening, we have a performance. I’ve already sold it for fifteen rubles. The money has been received. Shura! You’ll have to recite something.,.From the “Reader-Declaimer,” I will be showing anti-religious card tricks, and… Where is Panikovsky? Where has he gone?

– He justwas here, – said Kozlevich.

But there, behind the fence where the antelope keepers stood,it was heardthe honking of geese and the shrill scream of a woman, white feathers flew by, and Panikovsky ran out into the street. It was clear that the hand had betrayed the toreador, and he…The text for translation: ,.in self-defenseThe text for translation: ,.He struck the bird incorrectly. Behind him, the owner was chasing, swinging a log.

– Pitiful, worthless woman! – shouted Panikovsky, rushing out of the village.

“What’s this nonsense!” Ostap exclaimed, not hiding his frustration. “That scoundrel ruined our performance. Let’s run before they take our fifteen rubles!”

Meanwhile, the angry landlady caught up with Panikovsky, managed to hit him on the back with a log. The violator of the convention fell to the ground but immediately jumped up and ran away with unnatural speed. Having accomplishedact.In a fit of vengeance, the mistress joyfully turned back. As she ran past the antelope people, she threatened them with a log.

– Now our artistic career is over, – said Ostap, quickly making his way out of the village., – lunch,
rest – everything is lost.

They caught up with Panikovsky only about three kilometers later. He was lying by the roadside.grass.and loudly complained. From exhaustion, fear, and pain, he had turned pale, and the numerous old age blushes had faded from his face. He was so pitiful that the commander canceled the punishment he was about to impose on him.

– They slammed Alyosha Popovich down on the mighty
spinushka! – said Ostap as he walked by.

Everyone looked at Panikovsky with disgust. And again, he dragged himself at the end of the column, moaning and mumbling:

“Wait for me, don’t rush. I’m old, I’m sick, I feel bad.”Пожалуйста, предоставьте текст для перевода.Goose! Leg! Neck!The text for translation: !…Feminine!.. Pitiful, insignificant people!..

But the antelope hunters had become so accustomed to the old man’s complaints that they paid no attention to them. Hunger drove them forward. They had never felt so cramped and uncomfortable in the world. The road stretched on endlessly, and Panikovsky was falling further and further behind. His friends had already descended into the narrow yellow valley, while the violator of the convention still stood out darkly against the ridge of the hill in the greenish twilight sky.

– The old man has become unbearable.!“— said the hungry Bender. — We’ll have to deal with him. Go, Shura, bring that pretender here!”

Dissatisfied, Balaganov set off to carry out the assignment. While he…ran inOn the hill, the figure of Panikovsky disappeared.

“Something happened,” Kozlevich said after a while, looking at the ridge where Balaganov was signaling with his hands.

The driver and the commander went up.

The convention violator lay motionless in the middle of the road, like a doll. A pink tie ribbon crossed his chest at an angle. One arm was twisted behind his back. His eyes defiantly stared at the sky. Panikovsky was dead.

– Heart failure, – Ostap said, trying to say something. – I can tell even without a stethoscope. Poor old man.Текст для перевода: ..

He turned away. Balaganov couldn’t take his eyes off the corpse. Suddenly, he grimaced and struggled to say:

– I beat him up over the weights. And I fought with him even earlier.

Kozlevich remembered the deceased.AntelopeWith horror, he looked at Panikovsky and began to sing a Latin prayer.

“Stop it, Adam.”, he saidthe great combinator, – I.I know everything you intend to do. After the psalm, you…You say “God.”“gave, God and took”then “everything”“Under God’s watch, we walk.”, thensomething else meaningless,It seems “to him.”“Now it’s still better than us.” We don’t need all of this, Adam Kazimirovich. We have a simple task ahead of us.–.The body must be laid to rest.

It was already quite dark when the convention violator…foundthe final resting place. It was a natural grave, washed out by the rains at the base of a stone slab set upright. This slab had clearly been standing by the road for a long time. Perhaps it once bore an inscription: “Land of the landownerretiredmajorGeorgiaAfanasevich“Wolf of the Fox,” or perhaps it was just a boundary marker from the Potemkin era, but that didn’t really matter. Panikovsky was laid in a pit, dirt was shoveled over him with sticks, and they covered him up. Then the antelope hunters leaned their shoulders against the weathered slab and pushed it down. Now the grave was ready. In the flickering light of matches, the great schemer inscribed an epitaph on the slab with a piece of brick:

Here lies

Mikhail Samuelelevich

Panikovsky,.

a person without a passport

Ostap took off his captain’s cap and said:

– I was often unfair to the deceased. But was the deceased a moral person? No, he was not a moral person. He was a former blind man, a charlatan, and a goose thief. He devoted all his efforts to living off society. But society did not want him to live at its expense. And Mikhail Samuelyevich could not reconcile this contradiction in his views because he had a hot temper. And that is why he died. That’s all.Текст для перевода: ..

Kozlevich and Balaganov were dissatisfied with the eulogy for Ostap. They would have found it more appropriate if the great con artist had elaborated on the benefits the deceased had brought to society, his assistance to the poor, the sensitive soul of the deceased, his love for children, and all the other things typically attributed to any deceased person. Balaganov even approached the grave to express all this himself, but the commander had already put on his cap and was walking away quickly.

When the remnants of the antelope army crossed the valley and climbed over the new hill, a small train station immediately appeared behind it.

– And here comes civilization, – said Ostap, – maybe there’s a buffet, food. We can sleep on the benches. In the morning, we’ll head east. What do you think?

The driver and the flight engineer remained silent.

“Why are you silent, like grooms?”

“Well, Bender,” Balaganov finally said, “I’m not going. Please don’t take it the wrong way, but I don’t believe it. I don’t know where we need to go. We’ll all be lost there. I’m staying.”

“I wanted to say the same thing,” Kozlevich supported him.

“Suit yourself,” Ostap remarked with unexpected dryness.

There was no buffet at the station. A kerosene lamp flickered. In the passenger hall, two women dozed on sacks. The entire railway staff wandered along the wooden platform, anxiously peering into the distance.darkness,behind the semaphore.

“Which train?” Ostap asked.

“Letter train,” the station chief replied nervously, adjusting his red cap with silver braiding. “Special purpose. Delayed by two minutes. The siding doesn’t allow for a pass.”

A rumble echoed, the wire trembled, and from the noise emerged wolfish eyes, andhugeA brilliant train rushed into the station with great flair. The wide windows of the plush carriages sparkled, and bouquets and wine bottles whizzed by right under the noses of the antelope people.carriage–the restaurant, as the conductors with flashlights jumped off on the go, the platform immediately filled with
cheerful Russian chatter and foreign speech. Along the cars hung coniferous arches
and slogans: “Helloto the hero buildersEasternhighwaysIt seems that there is no text provided for translation. Please provide the text you would like me to translate.

The letter train with guests was heading toopening ceremonyroads.

The great combinator disappeared. Half a minute later, he reappeared and whispered:

– I’m on my way! As I go –I don’t know.But I’m going! Do you want to come with me? This is the last time I’m asking.

“– No,” said Balaganov.

“I won’t go,” Kozlevich said, “I can’t do it anymore.”

– What.The text for translation: female.What will you do?

– What should I do?, he repliedShura.I’ll go.In the children’s play “Lieutenant Schmidt”,.and that’s it.

–.Antelope“I think I’ll gather,” Adam Kazimirovich said plaintively, “I’ll go to her, see what I can do for her repair.”

Ostap wanted to say something, but a long whistle cut him off. He pulled Balaganov close, patted him on the back, kissed Kozlevich, waved his hand, and ran towards the train, the cars of which were already colliding with each other from the first jolt of the locomotive. But before he could reach it, he turned back, shoved fifteen rubles—earned from the sold performance—into Kozlevich’s hand, and jumped onto the step of the moving train.

Looking back, he saw two small figures in the lilac mist.risingalong the embankment. Balaganov was returning to the restless state of Lieutenant Schmidt’s children.Текст для перевода: ..Kozlevich trudged toward the remains.AntelopesТекст для перевода: ..

• Gallery of illustrations by Kukryniksy for the book “The Golden Calf”
• From the authors
• Part One. The Crew of the Antelope
• Part Two. Two Combinators
• Part Three. Private Individual