Mental illness -- Fiction; Russia -- Fiction; Russian fiction -- Translations into English; Teachers -- Fiction
The masked ball took place at the Club House in the Market Square--a
two-storied building of stone, painted bright red, resembling a
barracks. It was arranged by Gromov-Chistopolsky, the actor-manager
of the local theatre. The entrance, which was covered in by a calico
canopy, was lighted by lamps. The crowd standing in the street
criticised the arrivals, for the most part unfavourably, the more so
since in the streets the costumes were almost hidden under outside
wraps; the crowd judged chiefly by guesswork. The policemen zealously
kept order in the street, while in the hall itself the Commissioner of
Police and a police-inspector were present as guests.
Every guest received on entering two cards, one pink, for the best
woman's costume; one green, for the man's, which were to be handed to
the chosen persons. Some asked:
"And can we keep them for ourselves?"
At the beginning the attendant at the ticket-office asked in
astonishment:
"Why for yourselves?"
"But suppose we think our own costumes the best?" was the reply.
Later the attendant ceased to be astonished at these questions, and
being a young man with a sense of humour, said ironically:
"Help yourself! Keep both if you like."
It was dirtyish in the hall, and from the very beginning a number of
the crowd were tipsy. In the close rooms, with their smoke-begrimed
walls and ceilings, burned crooked lustres; they seemed huge, heavy
and stifling. The faded curtains at the doors looked such that one
hesitated to brush against them. Here and there knots of people
gathered, exclamations and laughter were heard--this was caused by
certain costumes which attracted general attention.
The notary Goudayevsky went as an American Indian. He had cock's
feathers in his hair, a copper-red mask with absurd green designs on
it, a leather jacket, a check plaid over his shoulder, and high leather
boots with green tassels. He waved his arms, jumped about, and walked
like an athlete, jerking up his naked knees exaggeratedly. His wife was
dressed as an ear of corn. She had on a costume of brightly coloured
green and yellow patches; ears of corn stuck out from her on every
side. They caught everyone she passed and pricked them. She was jostled
and pinched as she went along. She said angrily:
"I'll scratch you!"
Everyone near laughed. Some one asked:
"Where did she get so many corn stalks?"
"She laid in a store last summer," was the answer. "She stole some
every day from the fields!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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