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NEWS ARCHIVES 21.09.2019 (8)

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NEWS ARCHIVES 21.09.2019 (8)You do not regret the soul of the Christian! Tortured everything, robbers ... you are a murderer, Stepka! God's mother will punish you! Wait a minute! For nothing this will not work for you! You think that only one I mu

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When Totsky so kindly turned to him for friendly advice about one of his daughters, he immediately, in the most noble way, made full and frank confessions. He discovered that he decided not to stop at any means in order to gain his freedom; that he would not have calmed down if Nastasya Filippovna herself had even announced to him that from now on she would leave him completely at ease; that he has few words, that he needs the most comprehensive guarantees. Faced and decided to act together. It was originally supposed to test the softest means and touch, so to speak, some “noble strings of the heart”. Both came to Nastasya Filippovna, and Totsky straightforwardly began by declaring to her the unbearable horror of his situation; he blamed himself for everything; frankly said that he could not repent of the initial act with her, because he was an inveterate voluptuous and not in power, but that now he wanted to get married and that the whole fate of this extremely decent and secular marriage was in her hands; in a word, that he expects everything from her noble heart. Then General Yepanchin began to speak, in his capacity as a father, and spoke reasonably, avoided touching, only mentioned that he fully recognized her right to decide the fate of Afanasy Ivanovich, cleverly flaunted his own humility, pretending to be the fate of his daughter, or maybe two other daughters, now depends on her own decision. To the question of Nastasya Filippovna: “What exactly do they want from her?” - Totsky admitted to her with the same, completely naked bluntness that he was so scared five years ago that he couldn’t even calm down completely now until Nastasya Filippovna herself will marry someone. He immediately added that this request would, of course, be absurd on his part if he had not had some reasons for it. He very well noticed and positively found out that a young man of a very good family who lives in the most worthy family, namely Gavrila Ardalionovich Ivolgin, whom she knows and accepts, has long loved her with all the power of passion and, of course, would give half life for one hope to gain her sympathy. Gavrila Ardalionovich made these confessions to him, Athanasius Ivanovich, himself, and for a long time, in a friendly manner and from a pure young heart, and that Ivan Fedorovich, who is beneficent to a young man, has long been aware of this. Finally, if only he, Afanasy Ivanovich, was not mistaken, the love of the young man had long been known to Nastasya Filippovna herself, and it even seemed to him that she looked at this love condescendingly. Of course, it is harder for everyone to talk about this. But if Nastasya Filippovna wanted to allow in him, in Totsky, besides selfishness and the desire to arrange her own fate, although there were several good wishes for her too, she would realize that it was strange and difficult for him to look at her loneliness for a long time: that there was only one uncertain darkness, complete disbelief in the renewal of life, which could so beautifully rise in love and in the family and thus accept a new goal; that here the loss of abilities, which can be brilliant, voluntary admiring your longing, in a word, even some romanticism, worthy of neither a sound mind nor a noble heart Nastasya Filippovna. Repeating once more that it is more difficult for him to say to others that he cannot give up hope that Nastasya Filippovna will not answer him with contempt if he expresses his sincere desire to ensure her fate in the future and offers her an amount of seventy-five thousand rubles. He added to the explanation that this amount was still assigned to her in his will; in a word, that there’s not at all some kind of reward ... and that, finally, why not allow and excuse in him a human desire to at least somehow lighten his conscience, etc., etc., that's all what is said in similar cases on this subject. Afanasy Ivanovich spoke for a long time and eloquently, adding, so to speak in passing, a very curious information that he had already hinted at these seventy-five thousand for the first time and that even Ivan Fedorovich himself, who was sitting here, did not know about them; in a word, no one knows.
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he mail train number is racing so fast at full speed from the station "Vesely Trakh-Tararah" to the station "Save yourself, who can!" The locomotive whistles, hisses, puffs, sniffles ... The cars tremble and wolves howl with their ungreased wheels and scream owls. In heaven, on earth and in wagons, darkness ... "Something will be! there will be something! ”- the cars trembling from old age are knocking ...“ Wow-wow-oh-oh! ”- the locomotive picks up ... Through winds together with pocket-lovers walk through winds. Scary ... I stick my head out the window and look aimlessly into the endless distance. All the lights are green: the scandal, presumably, is not yet coming soon. The disk and station lights are not visible ... Darkness, longing, the thought of death, childhood memories ... Oh my god!
- Sinful !! I whisper. - Oh, how sinful! ..
Someone creeps into my back pocket. There is nothing in my pocket, but still terrible ... I turn around. Before me is a stranger. He is wearing a straw hat and a dark gray blouse.
- What do you want? I ask him, feeling my pockets.
- Nothing, sir! I'm looking out the window, sir! - he answers, pulling back his hand and leaning on my back.
A hoarse piercing whistle is heard ... The train begins to go quieter and quieter and finally stops. I get out of the car and go to the sideboard for a drink for courage. At the buffet crowded public and train crew.
- Um ... Vodka, not bitter! - the respectable chief conductor says, addressing the fat gentleman. The fat gentleman wants to say something and cannot: the one-year-old sandwich stopped at his throat.
- Jindarrr !!! Zhindarrr !!! - someone shouts on the platform in such a voice that, during the flood, hungry mastodons, ichthyosaurs and plesiosaurs shouted ... I’m going to see what’s the matter ... One of the first-class cars has a gentleman with a cockade and points to the public on your feet. From the unfortunate, while he was sleeping, boots and stockings were pulled ...
“What will I go now?” He shouts. - I have to go to Rrrevel! You must watch!
The gendarme stands in front of him and assures him that “there is no need to shout” ... I go to my car No. 224. Everything is the same in my car: darkness, snoring, tobacco and fusel smells, it smells of the Russian spirit. Near me, a red-haired forensic investigator is snoring, going to Kiev from Ryazan ... A pretty two or three steps away from the investigator is drowsy ... A peasant, in a straw hat, sniffs, puffs, turns over to all sides and does not know where to put his long legs . Someone in the corner is eating and chomping publicly ... People are sleeping under the benches. The door creaks. Two shriveled old women come in with knapsacks on their backs ...
- Sit here, my mother! - says one. - What a darkness! Temptation and only ... No way stepped on anyone ... And where is Groin?
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Nastasya Filippovna's answer amazed both friends.
Not only was there not even the slightest appearance of the former mockery, the former hostility and hatred, the previous laughter, from which, with one memory, there was still cold on Totsky’s back, but, on the contrary, she seemed to be glad that she could finally talk to someone openly and in a friendly manner. She admitted that she herself had long wanted to ask for friendly advice that only pride interfered, but that now that the ice was broken, nothing could be better. At first, with a sad smile, and then laughing merrily and briskly, she admitted that the former storm in any case could not be; that she had long since partially changed her view of things, and that although she had not changed in her heart, she was nevertheless forced to admit a great deal in the form of accomplished facts; what has been done, what has been done, what has passed, then passed, so it’s even strange for her that Afanasy Ivanovich still continues to be so scared. Then she turned to Ivan Fedorovich and with an air of deepest respect announced that she had long heard a lot about his daughters and had long been used to deeply and sincerely respect them. One thought that she could be useful to them at least would seem to be happiness and pride for her. It is true that she is now bored and bored, very bored; Athanasius Ivanovich guessed her dreams; she would like to resurrect, though not in love, so in the family, recognizing a new purpose; but what about Gavril Ardalionovich she can hardly say anything. It seems true that he loves her; she feels that she herself could love him if she could believe in the firmness of his affection; but he is very young, even if sincere; here the decision is difficult. She, however, likes the fact that he works, works, and alone supports the whole family. She heard that he is a man with energy, with pride, wants a career, wants to break through.
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Groin? Ah, priests! Where is he? Ah, priests!
The old woman fusses, opens the window and examines the plazform.
- Shit! She rattles. - Where are you? Groin! We are here!
- I have trouble! - shouts a voice outside the window. - They don’t let me into the car!
- Do not let go? Which does not let it go? Spit it! Nobody can let you in if you have a real ticket!
- Tickets no longer sell! Cass locked up!
Someone is leading a horse along the platform. Stomp and snort.
- Hand it back! Shouts the gendarme. - Where are you going? What are you scandalizing?
- Petrovna! Groans Groin.
Petrovna drops the knot from herself, grabs a large tin kettle in her hands and runs out of the carriage. The second bell rings. A small conductor with a black mustache enters.
- You would take a ticket! - he addresses to the old man sitting against me. - The controller is here!
- Yes? Um ... This is not good ... Which one? .. Prince?
- Well ... You can’t drive a prince here with sticks ...
“So who?” With beard?
- Yes, with a beard ...
- Well, if this one, then nothing. He is a kind person.
- As you wish.
- A lot of hares going?
“There will be forty showers.”
- Nnno? Well done! Ah yes businessmen!
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I also heard that Nina Alexandrovna Ivolgina, the mother of Gavrila Ardalionovich, is an excellent and highly respected woman; that his sister, Varvara Ardalionovna, is a very wonderful and energetic girl; she heard a lot about her from Ptitsyn. She heard that they cheerfully endure their misfortunes; she would very much like to meet them, but another question is, will they welcome her into their family? In general, she says nothing against the possibility of this marriage, but this is still too much to think about; she would wish not to be rushed. As for the seventy-five thousand — in vain did Athanasius Ivanovich find it difficult to talk about them. She understands the price of money itself and, of course, will take it. She thanks Afanasy Ivanovich for his delicacy, for the fact that he did not even tell the general about this, not only to Gavril Ardalionovich, but, however, why should he not know about this in advance? She has nothing to be ashamed of for this money when she enters their family.
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so i ever paid something !? - the old man mutters. - Never! I pay the conductor. The conductor has less money than Polyakov!
The third bell rattles.
- Oh, mothers! - the old woman is busy. - Where is it Petrovna? After all, this is the third call! Divine punishment ... Remained! The poor remained ... And her things here ... What should I do with things, with a handbag? My dear, she has remained!
The old lady thinks for a moment.
- Let things remain! She says and throws Petrovna’s handbag out the window.
We go to the station Haldeevo, and on the guide "Frum - General Grave." A controller and an over-conductor with a candle enter.
- Your ... tickets! Cries the chief conductor.
- Your ticket! - the controller addresses me and the old man.
We shrink, shrink, hide our hands and glare at the encouraging face of the chief conductor.
- Get it! - the controller says to his companion and leaves. We are saved.
- Your ticket! You! Your ticket! - pushes the over-conductor of the sleeping guy. The guy wakes up and takes out a yellow ticket from his hat.
- Where are you going? - says the controller, twirling a ticket between his fingers. - You're not going there!
“You, oak, are not going there!” Says the chief conductor. - You got on the wrong train, head! You need to be on Zhivoderovo, and we are going to Khaldeevo! Vaaazmi! You never have to be a fool!

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Во всяком случае, она ни у кого не намерена просить прощения ни в чем и желает, чтоб это знали. Она не выйдет за Гаврилу Ардалионовича, пока не убедится, что ни в нем, ни в семействе его нет какой-нибудь затаенной мысли на ее счет. Во всяком случае, она ни в чем не считает себя виновною, и пусть бы лучше Гаврила Ардалионович узнал, на каких основаниях она прожила все эти пять лет в Петербурге, в каких отношениях к Афанасию Ивановичу и много ли скопила состояния. Наконец, если она и принимает теперь капитал, то вовсе не как плату за свой девичий позор, в котором она не виновата, а просто как вознаграждение за исковерканную судьбу. Под конец она даже так разгорячилась и раздражилась, излагая всё это (что, впрочем, было так естественно), что генерал Епанчин был очень доволен и считал дело оконченным; но раз напуганный Тоцкий и теперь не совсем поверил и долго боялся, нет ли и тут змеи под цветами. Переговоры, однако, начались; пункт, на котором был основан весь маневр обоих друзей, а именно возможность увлечения Настасьи Филипповны к Гане, начал мало-помалу выясняться и оправдываться, так что даже Тоцкий начинал иногда верить в возможность успеха. Тем временем Настасья Филипповна объяснилась с Ганей: слов было сказано очень мало, точно ее целомудрие страдало при этом.
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he guy blinks intensely, stupidly looks at the smiling audience and begins to rub his sleeve on his eyes.
- You do not cry! - advises the public. - You better ask! Such a healthy blockhead, but you roar! I’m married, you have children.
“Your ... ticket! ..” the chief conductor addresses the mower in the cylinder.
- Ha?
- Your ... tickets! Turn around
- A ticket? What is needed?
- Ticket !!!
- We understand ... Why not give, if necessary? Yes! - A mowing man in a top hat creeps in his bosom and at a speed of two and a half points per hour pulls out greasy paper from there and hands it to the controller.
- Who are you giving? This is a passport! You give me a ticket!
- I have no other ticket! - says the mower, apparently alarmed.
“How do you ride when you don't have a ticket?”
- Yes, I paid.
- To whom did you pay? What are you lying?
- Conduction.
- Which one?
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She admitted, however, and allowed him his love, but persistently announced that she did not want to constrain herself in any way; that she until the wedding (if the wedding takes place) reserves the right to say no, at least at the very last hour; Ghana provides exactly the same right. Soon Ganya learned positively, through an opportunistic case, that the hostility of his whole family to this marriage and to Nastasya Filippovna personally, which was revealed by home scenes, was already known to Nastasya Filippovna in great detail; she herself did not talk about it with him, although he waited daily. However, one could tell a lot more from all the stories and circumstances that emerged about this matchmaking and negotiations; but we already ran ahead, especially since some of the circumstances were still in the form of too vague rumors. For example, as if Totsky had somehow learned that Nastasya Filippovna had entered into some sort of vague and secret relationship with the girls of the Epanchins, it was a completely unbelievable rumor. But he involuntarily believed another rumor and was afraid of it to a nightmare: he heard for sure that Nastasya Filippovna seemed to know to the highest degree that Ganya would marry only with money, that Ganya’s soul was black, greedy, impatient, envious and immense, not proportional proud of anything; that although Ganya really passionately sought victory over Nastasya Filippovna before, but when both friends decided to exploit this passion, which began on both sides, in their favor and buy Ganya by selling him Nastasya Filippovna as his lawful wife, he hated her as his nightmare.
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The Isotta Fraschini Tipo 8 is an Italian luxury car made between 1919 and 1924.
Tatra 600 Tatraplan from 1949. 4 cylinders, 1.9 L, 71 HP, 130 km/h
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But the jester knows which one! Kondukhtyru, that's all ... Don’t take it, he said, a ticket, we’ll take you anyway ... Well, I didn’t take it ...
- But we'll talk at the station! Madame, your ticket!
The door creaks, opens, and to everyone's surprise, Petrovna enters.
“By force, my mother, I found my carriage ... Whoever takes them apart is the same ... But Pakhoma wasn’t allowed in, aspids ... Where is my handbag?”
- Um ... Temptation ... I threw it through the window! I thought you stayed!
- Where did you drop it?
- Out the window ... Who knew you?
- Thank you ... Who asked you? Well, yes, and a witch, God forgive me! So what's now? I haven’t abandoned mine, paskuda ... You better throw your face! Ahhh ... the shtob got out of you!
- It will be necessary to wire from the next station! - advises the laughing audience.
Petrovna begins to vote and wickedly wickedly. Her friend holds on to her bag and also cries. A conductor enters.
- Whose wshh ... chi! He cries out, holding Petrovna's things in his hands.
- Pretty! - whispers to me my vis-à-vis old man, nodding at a pretty one. - Hmmm ... horror-eyed ... Damn it, there is no chloroform! I would give her a sniff, and kiss on all the shoulder blades! Fortunately everyone is sleeping! ..
The straw hat tosses and turns out loud and angry at its naughty legs.
“Scientists ...” he mutters. - Scientists ... I suppose you won’t go against the nature of things and objects! .. Scientists ... um ... I suppose they won’t make their legs unscrew and screw according to their will!
- I have nothing to do with it ... Ask a fellow prosecutor! - My neighbor investigator raves.
In the far corner, two gymnasium students, a non-commissioned officer and a young man in blue glasses in the light of four cigarettes are fried in a cartouche ...
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Passion and hatred seemed strange in his soul, and although he finally gave, after painful hesitation, consent to marry a “bad woman”, he himself vowed in his soul to bitterly note her for this and “drive” her later, as if he I would put it myself. Nastasya Filippovna seemed to know all this and was cooking something secretly. Totsky had already feared that even Yepanchin had ceased to report his concerns; but there were moments that he, as a weak man, resolutely reassured himself and quickly resurrected his spirit: he was extremely reassured, for example, when Nastasya Filippovna finally gave the word to both friends that in the evening, on her birthday, she would say the last word. But the strangest and most incredible rumor concerning the most respected Ivan Fedorovich, alas! more and more proved to be true.
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Here, at first glance, everything seemed like pure game. It was hard to believe that, if Ivan Fedorovich, in the old age of his venerable years, with his excellent mind and positive knowledge of life, etc., etc., was seduced by Nastasya Filippovna himself - but it would seem to such an extent that this whim was almost like passion. What he hoped in this case is hard to imagine; maybe even to assist Ghani himself. Totsky was suspected of at least something of the kind, the existence of some kind of almost silent agreement, based on mutual penetration, between the general and Ganei was suspected. However, it is known that a person who is too carried away by passion, especially if he is in his years, becomes completely blind and is ready to suspect hope where there is none at all; moreover, it loses its mind and acts like a stupid child, even if it were seven spans in the forehead. It was known that the general prepared for his birthday Nastasya Filippovna from himself as a gift an amazing pearl, which cost a huge amount, and was very interested in this gift, although he knew that Nastasya Filippovna was a disinterested woman. On the eve of Nastasya Filippovna’s birthday, he was in a fever, although he deftly hid himself. It was this pearl that was heard by General Yepanchin. True, Elizaveta Prokofievna had long since begun to experience the windiness of her spouse, even partially used to her; but it was impossible to miss such a case: the rumor of pearls was extremely interesting to her. The General tracked it down well in advance; other words were said the day before; he foresaw a thorough explanation and was afraid of it. That is why he terribly did not want to go to breakfast in the bowels of the family that morning with which we began the story. Even before the prince, he set out to excuse himself with deeds and avoid. Avoiding the general sometimes meant simply escaping. He wanted at least one this day and, most importantly, tonight to win without trouble. And suddenly, by the way, the prince came. “Surely God sent!” The general thought to himself, entering his wife.
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To my right sits a tall lady of the breed “of course”. It is full of powder and patchouli.
- Ah, what a charm this road! - a goose whispers above her ear, whispers cloyingly to ... to disgust, somehow pronouncing the letters g, n and r in a french way. - Nowhere so fast and pleasant is the rapprochement like on the road! I love you, road!
Kiss ... Another ... God knows what! A pretty one wakes up, looks around the audience and ... unconsciously lays her head on the shoulder of a neighbor, the priest of Themis ... and he, a fool, is sleeping !!
The train stops. Substation.
“The train costs two minutes ...” a husky, cracked bass mutters outside the car. Two minutes pass, two more pass ... Five, ten, twenty pass, and the train is still standing. What the hell? I get out of the car and head to the locomotive.
- Ivan Matveich! Soon you finally? Heck! Shouts the chief-conductor under the locomotive.
A driver is crawling out from under the locomotive on his belly, red, wet, with a piece of soot on his nose ...
- Do you have a god or not? - he turns to the chief conductor. “Are you human or not?” What are you customizing? Can't you see what? Ahh ... so that you all get out! .. Is this a locomotive? This is not a locomotive, but a rag! I can not carry it!
- What to do?
- Do whatever you want! Come on, but I won’t go on this one! Yes, you enter the position ...
Assistant drivers run around a faulty locomotive, knock, shout ... The head of the station in a red cap stands next to and tells his assistant anecdotes from a fun Jewish life ... It's raining ... I'm heading for the car ... A stranger in a straw hat rushes past and dark gray blouse ... In his hands a suitcase. This suitcase is mine ... Oh my god!
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The general was jealous of her origin. What was it like, directly and without preparation, to hear that this last kind of prince Myshkin, about whom she had already heard something, was no more than a miserable idiot and almost a beggar and was accepting alms for poverty. The general beat the effect precisely in order to interest him at once, to divert everything somehow to the other side.
In extreme cases, the general usually rolled out her eyes extremely and, leaning back slightly with her body, looked indefinitely in front of herself, without saying a word. This was a tall woman, of the same age as her husband, with dark, with a lot of gray hair, but still thick hair, with a slightly hunchbacked nose, lean, with yellow, sunken cheeks and thin, sunken lips. Her forehead was high, but narrow; gray, rather large eyes had the most unexpected expression sometimes. She once had the weakness to believe that her gaze was unusually spectacular; this conviction remained indelible in her.
- To accept? You say accept it, now, now? - and the general with all her might rolled her eyes to Ivan Fedorovich, who was bustling about before her.
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Oh, on this score you can without any ceremony, if only you, my friend, want to see him, ”the general hastened to explain. “A perfect child, and even so pathetic;” he has some painful seizures; he is now from Switzerland, just out of the carriage, dressed strangely, somehow in German, and in addition a penny, literally; almost crying. I gave him twenty-five rubles and I want to get him a clerical place in our office. And you, mesdames, I ask him to have a treat because he seems to be hungry ...
“You surprise me,” the generals continued, “hungry and seizures!” What seizures?
- Oh, they do not repeat so often, and moreover, he is almost like a child, though educated. I was you, mesdames, ”he again turned to his daughters,“ I wanted to ask you to examine him, but it would be nice to know what he is capable of. ”
- Pro-ek-for-me-no-vat? The general said, and in deepest amazement she began again to roll her eyes from her daughters to her husband and back.
“Ah, my friend, do not give such a meaning ... however, as you wish; I meant to caress him and introduce him to us, because it is almost a good deed.
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Mikhail Ivanovich! Cried the old prince to the architect, who, having taken up the fries, hoped that they had forgotten about him. “Did I tell you that Bonaparte is a great tactician?” There he is.
“Well, Your Excellency,” answered the architect.
The prince laughed again with his cold laugh.
- Bonaparte was born in a shirt. His soldiers are wonderful. Yes, and at first he attacked the Germans. But the Germans only did not beat the lazy. Since the world is standing, the Germans have all been beaten. And they are nobody. Only each other. He made his glory on them.
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Introduce to us? From Switzerland ?!
- Switzerland will not hurt here, but by the way, I repeat, as you want. I’m because, firstly, I have a namesake and maybe even a relative, and secondly, I don’t know where to put the chapter. I even thought that it would be somewhat interesting to you, since it is from our surname.
- Of course, maman, if you can with him without ceremony; besides, he wants to eat from the road, why not feed, if he does not know where to go? - said the eldest, Alexandra.
- And in addition, a perfect child, you can still play with him in blindfolds.
- Play blindfolds? How?
“Ah, maman, stop introducing yourself, please,” Aglaya interrupted with annoyance.
Average, Adelaide, mocking, could not stand it and laughed.
“Call him, papa, maman allows,” Aglaya decided. The general called and ordered the prince to be called.
“But in order to be sure to tie a napkin to his neck when he sits at the table,” the general decided, “call Fedor, or let Mavra ... to stand behind him and look after him when he will eat.” Is he at least calm? Does it make gestures?
- On the contrary, even very nice mannered and with excellent manners. Sometimes a little too rustic ... Yes, here he is! Well, I recommend the last of his kind, Prince Myshkin, a namesake and maybe even a relative, accept, caress. Now they’re going to have breakfast, prince, so do your honor ... But I'm sorry, I'm late, I'm in a hurry ...
“We know where you are in a hurry,” the general said importan
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And the prince began to sort out all the mistakes that, according to his concepts, Bonaparte made in all his wars and even in state affairs. The son did not mind, but it was clear that, no matter what the arguments presented to him, he was as little able to change his mind as the old prince. Prince Andrei listened, refraining from objections and involuntarily wondering how this old man, sitting for so many years without a break in the village, in such detail and with such subtlety know and discuss all the military and political circumstances of Europe in recent years.
“Do you think I, old man, do not understand the current state of affairs?” He concluded. - And here it is to me! I do not sleep at night. Well, where is this great commander of yours, where did he show himself?
“That would be long,” answered the son.
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https://zen.yandex.ru/media/id/595d4e62e86a9e3f7efbc7a0/el-2-de-setembre-sobren-les-inscripcions-per-a-les-activitats-esportives-5d651571fc69ab00adcc88bb
https://zen.yandex.ru/media/id/595d4e62e86a9e3f7efbc7a0/ludovic-barde-guanya-el-trophe-des-pyrnes-2019-5d651a6bfbe6e700ad09c548
It was difficult for me, because I did not know anyone. But once someone called him by his last name on the street, when I followed him from afar, as if attached to him, and now I recognized his last name. Another time I followed him to his apartment and found out from the janitor where he lived, on which floor, alone or with someone, etc. - in a word, everything that can be learned from the janitor. Once in the morning, although I had never literary, I suddenly came up with the idea of describing this officer in abbreviation, in caricature, in the form of a story. I enjoyed writing this story. I denounced, even slandered; I so falsified the surname at first that I could immediately find out, but then, after mature reasoning, I changed it and sent it to the "Domestic Notes". But then there were no accusations, and my story was not published. I was very annoyed. Sometimes anger just choked me. Finally, I decided to challenge my opponent to a duel. I composed a beautiful, attractive letter to him, begging him to apologize to me; in case of refusal, he hinted rather firmly at a duel. The letter was so composed that if the officer had a little understanding of “beautiful and tall,” he would certainly come running to me to throw himself on my neck and offer his friendship. And how good it would be! We would have healed like that! so healed! He would protect me with his dignity; I would ennoble him with my development, well ... ideas, and there could be a lot of something! Imagine that two years had already passed then when he offended me, and my challenge was an ugly anachronism, despite all the dexterity of my letter, which explained and covered up the anachronism. But, thank God (I still thank the Almighty with tears), I did not send my letter.
https://zen.yandex.ru/media/id/595d4e62e86a9e3f7efbc7a0/la-darrera-setmana-dagost-ser-gratuta-a-laquaparc-per-acomiadar-lestiu-5d65161dfebcd400ae2af630
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Hurry, hurry, my friend, late! Yes give him your albums, mesdames, let him write to you there; what a calligrapher he is, so rare! Talent; there, he crossed out with my old hand: “The Abbot Paphnutius put his hand in it” ... Well, bye.


Ключевые слова: news
Опубликовала , 21.09.2019 в 17:11
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