GOING TO CRIMEA AS YOU ADVISED STOP PREPARE BASKET JUST IN CASE

The many privations which Ostap had suffered demanded immediate

compensation. That evening the smooth operator drank himself into a stupor

and practically fell out of the cable-car on the way back to the hotel. The

next day he realized a long-cherished dream and bought a heavenly grey

polka-dot suit. It was hot wearing it, but he nevertheless did so, sweating

profusely. In the Tif-Co-Op men's shop, Vorobyaninov was bought a white

pique" suit and a yachting cap with the gold insignia of some unknown yacht

club. In this attire Ippolit Matveyevich looked like an amateur admiral in

the merchant navy. His figure straightened up and his gait became firmer.

"Ah," said Bender, "first rate! If I were a girl, I'd give a handsome

he-man like you an eight per cent reduction off my usual price. My, we can

certainly get around like this. Do you know how to get around, Pussy? "

"Comrade Bender," Vorobyaninov kept saying, "what about the chairs?

We've got to find out what happened to the theatre."

"Hoho," retorted Ostap, dancing with a chair in a large Moorish-style

room in the Hotel Orient. "Don't tell me how to live. I'm now evil. I have

money, but I'm magnanimous. I'll give you twenty roubles and three days to

loot the city. I'm like Suvorov. . . . Loot the city, Pussy! Enjoy

yourself!"

And swaying his hips, Ostap sang in quick time:

"The evening bells, the evening bells, How many thoughts they bring. .

. ."

The friends caroused wildly for a whole week. Vorobyaninov's naval

uniform became covered with apple-sized wine spots of different colours; on

Ostap's suit the stains suffused into one large rainbow-like apple.

"Hi!" said Ostap on the eighth morning, so hung-over that he was

reading the newspaper Dawn of the East. "Listen, you drunken sot, to what

clever people are writing in the press! Listen!

Date: 2015-01-02; view: 936