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Updated: June 25, 2025
He gave one look at Ivan Nikiforovitch, but such a look! If that look had possessed active power, then it would have turned Ivan Nikiforovitch into dust. The guests understood the look and hastened to separate them. And this man, the very model of gentleness, who never let a single poor woman go by without interrogating her, rushed out in a fearful rage. Such violent storms do passions produce!
But in spite of numerous dissimilarities, Ivan Ivanovitch and Ivan Nikiforovitch are both very fine fellows. One morning it was in July Ivan Ivanovitch was lying on his balcony. The day was warm; the air was dry, and came in gusts. Ivan Ivanovitch had been to town, to the mower's, and at the farm, and had succeeded in asking all the muzhiks and women whom he met all manner of questions.
Anton Prokofievitch Pupopuz, who goes about to this hour in his cinnamon-coloured surtout with blue sleeves and dines every Sunday with the judge, was in the habit of saying that the Devil himself had bound Ivan Ivanovitch and Ivan Nikiforovitch together with a rope: where one went, the other followed. Ivan Nikiforovitch has never married.
"I do not know," said Ivan Nikiforovitch, panting with fatigue, though it is to be observed that he was not at all disinclined to a reconciliation, "I do not know what I did to Ivan Ivanovitch; but why did he destroy my coop and plot against my life?" "I am innocent of any evil designs!" said Ivan Ivanovitch, never looking at Ivan Nikiforovitch.
It was a picture worthy of the brush of a great artist. At length Ivan Ivanovitch pulled out his handkerchief and began to blow his nose; whilst Ivan Nikiforovitch glanced about and his eye rested on the open door. The chief of police at once perceived this movement, and ordered the door to be fastened. Then both of the friends began to eat, and never once glanced at each other again.
But Anton Prokofievitch only went off into a fit of laughter, and held his sides with delight at having played such a joke upon the company. At all events, it was almost past the belief of all that Ivan Nikiforovitch could, in so brief a space of time, have attired himself like a respectable gentleman. Ivan Ivanovitch was not there at the moment: he had stepped out somewhere.
Ivan Ivanovitch quarrelling with Ivan Nikiforovitch! Such worthy people! What is to be depended upon, then, in this world? When Ivan Ivanovitch reached home, he remained for some time in a state of strong excitement. But now he did not betake himself to any of his ordinary occupations.
I don't understand " asked Ignatius Nikiforovitch, with a forced smile. "I mean to say that there are only two sensible modes of punishment those that have been used in olden times: corporal punishment and capital punishment. But with the advance of civilization they have gone out of existence." "That is both new and surprising to hear from you."
Who ever heard of swapping a gun for two sacks of oats? Never fear, you don't offer your coat." "But you forget, Ivan Nikiforovitch, that I am to give you the sow too." "What! two sacks of oats and a sow for a gun?" "Why, is it too little?" "For a gun?" "Of course, for a gun." "Two sacks for a gun?" "Two sacks, not empty, but filled with oats; and you've forgotten the sow."
"God assist you!" said Ivan Ivanovitch. "Ah! how do you do, Ivan Ivanovitch?" replied a voice from the corner of the room. Then only did Ivan Ivanovitch perceive Ivan Nikiforovitch lying upon a rug which was spread on the floor. "Excuse me for appearing before you in a state of nature." "Not at all. You have been asleep, Ivan Nikiforovitch?" "I have been asleep.
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