Мертві душі

           Rememberthatamanintheprimeofyearshasanappetitelikeawolf;andashepassedarestauranthecouldseearound-faced,holland-shirted,snow-whiteapronedfellowofaFrenchchefpreparingadishdeliciousenoughtomakeitturntoandeatitself;while,again,ashepassedafruitshophecouldseedelicacieslookingoutofawindowforfoolstocomeandbuythematahundredroublesapiece.Imagine,therefore,hisposition!Ontheonehand,sotospeak,weresalmonandwater-melons,whileontheotherhandwasthebitterfarewhichpassedatatavernforluncheon.‘Well,’hethoughttohimself,‘letthemdowhattheylikewithmeattheCommission,butIintendtogoandraisethewholeplace,andtotelleveryblessedfunctionarytherethatIhaveamindtodoasIchoose.’AndintruththisboldimpertinenceofamandidhavethehardihoodtoreturntotheCommission.‘Whatdoyouwant?’saidthePresident.‘Whyareyouhereforthethirdtime?Youhavehadyourordersgivenyou.’‘IdaresayIhave,’heretorted,‘butIamnotgoingtobeputoffwithTHEM.Iwantsomecutletstoeat,andabottleofFrenchwine,andachancetogoandamusemyselfatthetheatre.’‘Pardonme,’saidthePresident.‘Whatyoureallyneed(ifImayventuretomentionit)isalittlepatience.YouhavebeengivensomethingforfooduntiltheMilitaryCommitteeshallhavemet,andthen,doubtless,youwillreceiveyourproperreward,seeingthatitwouldnotbeseemlythatamanwhohasservedhiscountryshouldbeleftdestitute.