At the end of the table, the secretary was reading the decision of a case, but in such a monotonous and mournful voice that the accused himself might have fallen asleep listening to it. The judge would undoubtedly have done so before anyone else, if he hadn't entered, meanwhile, into an amusing conversation.

"I purposely tried to find out," the judge said, sipping tea from the already cold cup, "how they turn out to sing so well. I had a fine blackbird some two years ago. What then? Suddenly he went off completely. Started singing God knows what. As it continued, he got worse, turned guttural, hoarse-fit for the trash heap. And owing to a mere trifle! Here's how it happens: they get a lump under the throat, smaller than a pea. You need only prick this lump with a needle. Zakhar Prokofievich taught me that, and I'll tell you precisely how: I come to see him…"

"Shall I read another one, Demyan Demyanovich?" interrupted the secretary, who had already finished reading several minutes earlier.

"You read all of it? Imagine, so quickly! I didn't hear a thing! Where is it? Give it to me, I'll sign it. What else have you got?"

"The Cossack Bokitko's case concerning the stolen cow."

"Very well, read it! So, I come to see him… I can even tell you in detail what he treated me to. The vodka was served with a balyk 6 -one of a kind! Yes, not like our balyk, which"-here the judge clucked his tongue and smiled, while his nose sniffed from his usual snuffbox-"which our Mirgorod grocery treats us to. I didn't eat any pickled herring, because, as you yourself know, it gives me heartburn. But I did try the caviar-wonderful caviar! not to say excellent! Then I drank some peach vodka flavored with centaury. There was also saffron vodka, but, as you yourself know, I don't drink saffron vodka. It's very nice, you see: first to arouse the appetite, as they say, and then to finish… Ah! it's been ages, ages…" the judge suddenly cried out, seeing Ivan Ivanovich come in.

"God be with you! I wish you good day!" said Ivan Ivanovich, bowing to all sides with a pleasantness proper only to himself. My God, how he's able to charm everyone with his manners! Such refinement I've never seen anywhere. He knew his own worth very well, and therefore regarded general respect as his due. The judge himself offered Ivan Ivanovich a chair, and his nose drew all the snuff from his upper lip, which with him was always a sign of great pleasure.

"What may we offer you, Ivan Ivanovich?" he asked. "Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"No, thank you very much," replied Ivan Ivanovich, bowing and sitting down.

"If you please, just one little cup!" repeated the judge.

"No, thank you. You are most hospitable," Ivan Ivanovich replied, bowing and sitting down.

"One cup," repeated the judge.

"No, don't trouble yourself, Demyan Demyanovich."

With that, Ivan Ivanovich bowed and sat down.

"One little cup?"

"Oh, very well, one little cup," said Ivan Ivanovich, reaching toward the tray.

Lord God! such bottomless refinement some people have! It's impossible to describe what a pleasant impression such behavior makes!

"Wouldn't you care for another cup?"

"I humbly thank you," replied Ivan Ivanovich, placing the cup upside down on the tray and bowing.

"Be so kind, Ivan Ivanovich!"

"I can't. Thank you very much." With that, Ivan Ivanovich bowed and sat down.

"Ivan Ivanovich! be a friend, one little cup!"

"No, much obliged."

Having said this, Ivan Ivanovich bowed and sat down.

"Just one cup! one little cup!"

Ivan Ivanovich reached toward the tray and took a cup.

Pah! damnation! How some people are able, how they manage to maintain their dignity!

"Demyan Demyanovich," Ivan Ivanovich said as he finished the last sip, "I've come to you on some necessary business. I'm putting in a claim." With that, Ivan Ivanovich set down his cup and took from his pocket a sheet of official stamped paper with writing on it. "A claim against an enemy of mine, a sworn enemy."

"Who might that be?"

"Ivan Nikiforovich Dovgochkhun."

At these words the judge nearly fell off his chair.

"What are you saying!" he uttered, clasping his hands. "Ivan Ivanovich, is this you?"

"You can see for yourself it is."

"The Lord God and all his saints be with you! What! you, Ivan Ivanovich, have become enemies with Ivan Nikiforovich? Is it your lips saying so? Repeat it again! Someone must be hiding behind you and talking in your place!…"

"What's so incredible about it? I can't bear the sight of him; he has mortally offended me, insulted my honor."

"Most holy Trinity! how will I ever make my mother believe it now? And she, the old lady, says to me every day, when I quarrel with my sister, 'You children live like cat and dog together. Why don't you take example from Ivan Ivanovich and Ivan Nikiforovich? There are two real friends! Such friends! Such worthy people!' That's friends for you! Tell me, what was it? how?"

"It's a delicate matter, Demyan Demyanovich! impossible to put into words. Better order my petition to be read. Here, take it from this side, it's more fitting."

"Read it, Taras Tikhonovich!" said the judge, turning to the secretary.

Taras Tikhonovich took the petition and, having blown his nose with the aid of two fingers, as all court secretaries do, began to read:

"From Ivan, son of Ivan, Pererepenko, gentleman of the Mirgorod region and landowner, a petition; and on what, the points follow herewith:

"1. Known to the whole world for his iniquitous, loathsome, and beyond-all-measure law-breaking actions, the gentleman, Ivan, son of Nikifor, Dovgochkhun, on the 7th of July of the year 1810 instant, did occasion me a mortal offense, as much in reference to my personal honor as in equal measure to the humiliation and embarrassment of my rank and name. This gentleman, being of vile appearance, is likewise of an abusive character and filled with all sorts of blasphemy and abuse…"

Here the reader paused briefly in order to blow his nose again, and the judge pressed his hands together in awe and only kept saying to himself:

"What a glib pen! Lord God! how the man can write!"

Ivan Ivanovich asked for the reading to proceed, and Taras Tikhonovich went on:

"This gentleman, Ivan, son of Nikifor, Dovgochkhun, when I came to him with friendly offers, publicly called me by a name offensive to me and defaming to my honor, namely: goose, whereas it is known to the whole Mirgorod region that I have hitherto in no way ever been called, and have no intention of being called, this vile animal. And the proof of my noble origin is that the day of my birth, and equally well the baptism I received, have been recorded in the register of the Church of the Three Hierarchs. 7 A goose, as is known to all who are at least somewhat versed in science, cannot be recorded in a register, for a goose is not a person but a bird, which fact is positively known to everyone, even if they have not gone to school. But the said malignant gentleman, being informed of all this, with no other purpose than that of occasioning me an offense mortifying to my rank and estate, did abuse me with the said vile word.

"2. This same improper and indecent gentleman also encroached upon my familial property, received by me from my parent, of the clerical estate, Ivan, of blessed memory, son of Onisy, Pererepenko, by transposing, contrary to all law, a goose pen directly opposite my porch, doing so with no other intention than that of aggravating the offense already inflicted upon me, for the said pen had hitherto been standing in a suitable place and was still quite sturdy. But the loathsome intent of the above-mentioned gentleman consisted solely in turning me into a witness of indecent goings-on, for it is known that no one goes to a pen, still less to a goose pen, on decent business. In this illegal act, the two front posts intruded upon my own land, which I received while my parent Ivan, of blessed memory, son of Onisy, Pererepenko, was still alive, and which, starting from the barn, went in a straight line all the way to where the women wash their pots.