The Cook's Wedding and Other StoriesChekhov, Anton Pavlovich
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The Cook's Wedding and Other Stories
Chekhov, Anton Pavlovich
Chekhov, Anton Pavlovich, 1860-1904 -- Translations into English; Russia -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
He meant to say something more, but went away without saying it.
Auntie, who during her lessons had thoroughly studied his face and
intonations, divined that he was agitated, anxious and, she fancied,
angry. Soon afterwards he came back and said:
"To-day I shall take with me Auntie and F'yodor Timofeyitch. To-day,
Auntie, you will take the place of poor Ivan Ivanitch in the 'Egyptian
Pyramid.' Goodness knows how it will be! Nothing is ready, nothing
has been thoroughly studied, there have been few rehearsals! We
shall be disgraced, we shall come to grief!"
Then he went out again, and a minute later, came back in his fur-coat
and top hat. Going up to the cat he took him by the fore-paws and
put him inside the front of his coat, while Fyodor Timofeyitch
appeared completely unconcerned, and did not even trouble to open
his eyes. To him it was apparently a matter of absolute indifference
whether he remained lying down, or were lifted up by his paws,
whether he rested on his mattress or under his master's fur-coat.
"Come along, Auntie," said her master.
Wagging her tail, and understanding nothing, Auntie followed him.
A minute later she was sitting in a sledge by her master's feet and
heard him, shrinking with cold and anxiety, mutter to himself:
"We shall be disgraced! We shall come to grief!"
The sledge stopped at a big strange-looking house, like a soup-ladle
turned upside down. The long entrance to this house, with its three
glass doors, was lighted up with a dozen brilliant lamps. The doors
opened with a resounding noise and, like jaws, swallowed up the
people who were moving to and fro at the entrance. There were a
great many people, horses, too, often ran up to the entrance, but
no dogs were to be seen.
The master took Auntie in his arms and thrust her in his coat, where
Fyodor Timofeyirch already was. It was dark and stuffy there, but
warm. For an instant two green sparks flashed at her; it was the
cat, who opened his eyes on being disturbed by his neighbour's cold
rough paws. Auntie licked his ear, and, trying to settle herself
as comfortably as possible, moved uneasily, crushed him under her
cold paws, and casually poked her head out from under the coat, but
at once growled angrily, and tucked it in again. It seemed to her
that she had seen a huge, badly lighted room, full of monsters;
from behind screens and gratings, which stretched on both sides of
the room, horrible faces looked out: faces of horses with horns,
with long ears, and one fat, huge countenance with a tail instead
of a nose, and two long gnawed bones sticking out of his mouth.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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