The Twelve Chairs / Двенадцать стульев. Книга для чтения на английском языке

She dreamed of girls in sashes, horses trimmed with the yellow braid worn by dragoons, caretakers playing harps, angels in watchmen's fur coats who went for walks at night carrying clappers, and knitting-needles which hopped around the room by themselves making a distressing tinkle. An empty-headed woman was Claudia Ivanovna. In addition to everything else, her upper lip was covered by a moustache, each side of which resembled a shaving brush.

Ippolit Matveyevich left the house in rather an irritable mood. Bezenchuk the undertaker was standing at the entrance to his tumble-down establishment, leaning against the door with his hands crossed.

The regular collapse of his commercial undertakings plus a long period of practice in the consumption of intoxicating drinks had made his eyes bright yellow like a cat's, and they burned with an unfading light.

В«Greetings to an honoured guest!В» he rattled off, seeing Vorobyaninov. В«Good mornin'В».

Ippolit Matveyevich politely raised his soiled beaver hat.

В«How's your mother-in-law, might I inquire?В» В«Mrr-mrrВ», said Ippolit Matveyevich indistinctly, and shrugging his shoulders, continued on his way.

В«God grant her healthВ», said Bezenchuk bitterly. В«Nothin' but losses, durn itВ». And crossing his hands on his chest, he again leaned against the doorway.

At the entrance to the Nymph Funeral Home Ippolit Matveyevich was stopped once more. There were three owners of the Nymph. They all bowed to Ippolit Matveyevich and inquired in chorus about his mother-in-law's health.

В«She's wellВ», replied Ippolit Matveyevich. В«The things she does! Last night she saw a golden girl with her hair down. It was a dreamВ».

The three Nymphs exchanged glances and sighed loudly.

These conversations delayed Vorobyaninov on his way, and contrary to his usual practice, he did not arrive at work until the clock on the wall above the slogan В«Finish Your Business and LeaveВ» showed five past nine.

Because of his great height, and particularly because of his moustache, Ippolit Matveyevich was known in the office as Maciste.

Рђlthough the real Maciste had no moustache. (Translator's Note: Maciste was an internationally known Italian actor of the time.)

Taking a blue felt cushion out of a drawer in the desk, Ippolit Matveyevich placed it on his chair, aligned his moustache correctly (parallel to the top of the desk) and sat down on the cushion, rising slightly higher than his three colleagues.