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Aren't you a Russian? 'I'm a Mtchanin, granddad; I was born in Mtchensk. 'Oh, silly dunce! but where is Mtchensk? 'How can I tell? 'Mtchensk's in Russia, silly! 'Well, what then, if it is in Russia? 'What then? Why, his Highness the late Prince Mihalo Ilarionovitch Golenishtchev-Kutuzov-Smolensky, with God's aid, graciously drove Bonaparty out of the Russian territories.
It's on that event the song was composed: "Bonaparty's in no mood to dance, He's lost the garters he brought from France."... Do you understand? he liberated your fatherland. 'And what's that to do with me? 'Ah! you silly boy! Why, if his Highness Prince Mihalo Ilarionovitch hadn't driven out Bonaparty, some mounseer would have been beating you about the head with a stick this minute.
When he talks to them, he usually looks sideways at them, his cheek pressed hard against his stiff white collar, and suddenly he turns and silently fixes them with a clear stony stare, while he moves the whole skin of his head under his hair; he even has a way of his own in pronouncing many words; he never says, for instance: 'Thank you, Pavel Vasilyitch, or 'This way, if you please, Mihalo Ivanitch, but always 'Fanks, Pa'l 'Asilitch, or ''Is wy, please, Mil' 'Vanitch. With persons of the lower grades of society, his behaviour is still more quaint; he never looks at them at all, and before making known his desires to them, or giving an order, he repeats several times in succession, with a puzzled, far-away air: 'What's your name?... what, what's your name? with extraordinary sharp emphasis on the first word, which gives the phrase a rather close resemblance to the call of a quail.
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