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Updated: August 3, 2024
Besides that, whenever he fought or quarrelled, he was assisted by Martyanoff, who was accustomed during a general fight to stand silently and sadly back to back with Kuvalda, when he became an all destroying and impregnable engine of war. Once when Simtsoff was drunk, he rushed at the teacher for no reason whatever, and getting hold of his head tore out a bunch of hair.
"Krivoi, let us remember the ancients! Let us sing 'On the Banks of the Babylonian Rivers." "But can he?" asked Simtsoff. "He? He was a chorister in the Bishop's choir. Now then, Krivoi! ... "On the r-i-v-e-r-s " The Deacon's voice was loud and hoarse and cracked, but his friend sang in a shrill falsetto.
When the laughter stopped, Aleksei Maksimovitch Simtsoff remembered that he too had once had a daughter. "Her name was Lidka . . . she was very stout. . . ." More than this he did not seem to remember, for he looked at them all, was silent and smiled . . . in a guilty way.
The old man smiled good-humouredly, rubbed his hands, and replied, "I do not know ... I will see. One does not require much, just a little drink." "Plain but honourable fare!" the Captain said. Simtsoff was silent, only adding that he would find a place sooner than any of them, because women loved him. This was true.
On seeing him, they would come forward from all corners of the court-yard, drunk, or suffering from drunken headache, dishevelled, tattered, miserable, and pitiable. Then would come the barrel-like, stout Aleksei Maksimoviteh Simtsoff, formerly Inspector of Woods and Forests, under the Department of Appendages, but now trading in matches, ink, blacking, and lemons.
"Yes, of course," says the Captain, beaming with joy. "Romulus and Remus, eh? We also shall create when our time comes ..." "Violation of public peace," interrupts Abyedok. He laughs in a self-satisfied way. His laughter is impudent and insolent, and is echoed by Simtsoff, the Deacon and Paltara Taras. The naive eyes of young Meteor light up, and his cheeks flush crimson.
When the teacher was absent his speeches, as a rule, fell on the empty air, and received no attention, and he knew this, but still he could not help speaking. And now, having quarrelled with his companion, he felt rather deserted; but, still longing for conversation, he turned to Simtsoff with the following question: "And you, Aleksei Maksimovitch, where will you lay your gray head?"
"Yes, of course," says the Captain, beaming with joy. "Romulus and Remus, eh? We also shall create when our time comes. . . ." "Violation of public peace," interrupts Abyedok. He laughs in a self-satisfied way. His laughter is impudent and insolent, and is echoed by Simtsoff, the Deacon and Paltara Taras. The naive eyes of young Meteor light up, and his cheeks flush crimson.
Besides that, whenever he fought or quarrelled, he was assisted by Martyanoff, who was accustomed during a general fight to stand silently and sadly back to back with Kuvalda, when he became an all-destroying and impregnable engine of war. Once when Simtsoff was drunk, he rushed at the teacher for no reason whatever, and getting hold of his head tore out a bunch of hair.
The old man smiled good-humoredly, rubbed his hands, and replied, "I do not know . . . I will see. One does not require much, just a little drink." "Plain but honorable fare!" the Captain said. Simtsoff was silent, only adding that he would find a place sooner than any of them, because women loved him. This was true.
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