Short stories, Russian -- Translations into English
"From which it is to be deduced that if we want to eat a pheasant, we
must catch it first, kill it, pull its feathers and roast it. But
how's that to be done?"
"Yes, how's that to be done?" repeated the other Official.
They turned silent and tried again to fall asleep, but their hunger
scared sleep away. Before their eyes swarmed flocks of pheasants and
ducks, herds of porklings, and they were all so juicy, done so
tenderly and garnished so deliciously with olives, capers and pickles.
"I believe I could devour my own boots now," said the one Official.
"Gloves, are not bad either, especially if they have been born quite
mellow," said the other Official.
The two Officials stared at each other fixedly. In their glances
gleamed an evil-boding fire, their teeth chattered and a dull groaning
issued from their breasts. Slowly they crept upon each other and
suddenly they burst into a fearful frenzy. There was a yelling and
groaning, the rags flew about, and the Official who had been teacher
of handwriting bit off his colleague's order and swallowed it.
However, the sight of blood brought them both back to their senses.
"God help us!" they cried at the same time. "We certainly don't mean
to eat each other up. How could we have come to such a pass as this?
What evil genius is making sport of us?"
"We must, by all means, entertain each other to pass the time away,
otherwise there will be murder and death," said the one Official.
"You begin," said the other.
"Can you explain why it is that the sun first rises and then sets? Why
isn't it the reverse?"
"Aren't you a funny man, your Excellency? You get up first, then you
go to your office and work there, and at night you lie down to sleep."
"But why can't one assume the opposite, that is, that one goes to
bed, sees all sorts of dream figures, and then gets up?"
"Well, yes, certainly. But when I was still an Official, I always
thought this way: 'Now it is dawn, then it will be day, then will
come supper, and finally will come the time to go to bed.'"
The word "supper" recalled that incident in the day's doings, and the
thought of it made both Officials melancholy, so that the conversation
came to a halt.
"A doctor once told me that human beings can sustain themselves for a
long time on their own juices," the one Official began again.
"What does that mean?"
"It is quite simple. You see, one's own juices generate other juices,
and these in their turn still other juices, and so it goes on until
finally all the juices are consumed."
"And then what happens?"
"Then food has to be taken into the system again."
"The devil!"
No matter what topic the Officials chose, the conversation invariably
reverted to the subject of eating; which only increased their appetite
more and more. So they decided to give up talking altogether, and,
recollecting the _Moscow Gazette_ that the one of them had found, they
picked it up and began to read eagerly.
BANQUET GIVEN BY THE MAYOR
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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