Chekhov Anton Pavlovich - horse surname - read a free e-book online or download this book for free. Anton Chekhov horse surname
Retired Major General Buldeev had a toothache. He rinsed his mouth with vodka, cognac, applied tobacco soot, opium, turpentine, kerosene to the sore tooth, smeared his cheek with iodine, and had cotton wool soaked in alcohol in his ears, but all this either did not help or caused nausea. The doctor arrived. He picked the tooth and prescribed quinine, but that didn’t help either. The general refused the offer to pull out a bad tooth. All the household - wife, children, servants, even the cook Petka, each offered their own remedy. By the way, Buldeev’s clerk Ivan Evseich came to him and advised him to undergo treatment with a conspiracy.
Here, in our district, Your Excellency,” he said, “ten years ago, excise officer Yakov Vasilich served. He spoke with his teeth - first class. It happened that he would turn to the window, whisper, spit - and as if with his hand! Such strength has been given to him...
Where is he now?
And after he was fired from the excise department, he lives with his mother-in-law in Saratov. Now he only feeds with his teeth. If someone has a toothache, then they go to him, he helps... He uses people from Saratov at his home, and if they are from other cities, then by telegraph. Send him, Your Excellency, a dispatch that this is how it is... the servant of God Alexy has a toothache, please use it. And you will send money for treatment by mail.
Nonsense! Quackery!
Try it, Your Excellency. He is very fond of vodka, lives not with his wife, but with a German woman, a scolder, but, one might say, a miraculous gentleman.
Let's go, Alyosha! - the general’s wife begged. You don’t believe in conspiracies, but I experienced it myself. Although you don’t believe it, why not send it? Your hands won't fall off because of this.
Well, okay,” Buldeev agreed. - Here you’ll not only send a dispatch to the action office, but also send a dispatch to hell... Oh! No urine! Well, where does your excise man live? How to write to him?
The general sat down at the table and took the pen in his hands.
Every dog in Saratov knows him,” said the clerk. - Please write, Your Excellency, to the city of Saratov, therefore... To His Honor Mr. Yakov Vasilich... Vasilich...
Vasilich... Yakov Vasilich... and by last name And I forgot his last name!.. Vasilich... Damn... What's his last name? I remembered how I walked here just now... Excuse me...
Ivan Yevseich raised his eyes to the ceiling and moved his lips. Buldeev and the general's wife waited impatiently.
So what? Think quickly!
Now... Vasilich... Yakov Vasilich... I forgot! Such a simple surname... like a horse... Kobylin? No, not Kobylin. Wait... Are there any stallions? No, and not Zherebtsov. I remember the last name is a horse, but I lost my mind which one...
Foalers?
No way. Wait... Kobylitsin... Kobylyatnikov... Kobelev...
This is a dog's, not a horse's. Stallions?
No, and not Zherebchikov... Loshadinin... Loshakov... Zherebkin... It’s not the same!
Well, how am I going to write to him? Think about it!
Now. Loshadkin... Kobylkin... Root...
Korennikov? - asked the general’s wife.
No way. Pristyazhkin... No, that’s not it! Forgot!
So why the hell are you bothering with advice if you forgot? the general got angry. Get out of here!
Ivan Yevseich slowly left, and the general grabbed his cheek and walked through the rooms.
Oh, fathers! - he yelled. - Oh, mothers! Oh, I don’t see white light!
The clerk went out into the garden and, raising his eyes to the sky, began to recall the name of the excise man:
Zherebchikov... Zherebkovsky... Zherebenko... No, that’s not it! Loshadinsky... Loshadevich... Zherebkovich... Kobylyansky...
A little later he was called to the gentlemen.
Do you remember? - asked the general.
No, your Excellency.
Maybe Konyavsky? Horse people? No?
And in the house, everyone vying with each other, they began to invent surnames. We went through all the ages, genders and breeds of horses, remembered the mane, hooves, harness... In the house, in the garden, in the servants' room and kitchen, people walked from corner to corner and, scratching their foreheads, looked for a surname...
The clerk was constantly required into the house.
Tabunov? - they asked him. - Kopytin? Zherebovsky?
“No way,” Ivan Evechi answered and, raising his eyes, continued to think out loud: “Konenko... Konchenko... Zherebeev... Kobyleev...
Dad! - they shouted from the nursery. - Troykin! Uzdechkin!
The whole estate was excited. The impatient, tortured general promised to give five rubles to anyone who remembered real name, and whole crowds began to follow Ivan Yevseich...
Gnedov! - they told him. - Trotter! Loshaditsky!
But evening came, and the name was still not found. So they went to bed without sending a telegram.
The general did not sleep all night, walked from corner to corner and moaned... At three o'clock in the morning he left the house and knocked on the clerk's window.
No, not Merinov, Your Excellency, answered Ivan Yevseich and sighed guiltily.
Yes, maybe the surname is not horse, but some other!
Truly the word, Your Excellency, horse... I remember this very well.
What a memoryless brother you are... For me now this surname is more valuable, it seems, than anything else in the world. I'm exhausted!
In the morning the general again sent for the doctor.
Let him vomit! - he decided. - There is no more strength to endure...
The doctor arrived and pulled out the bad tooth. The pain subsided immediately, and the general calmed down. Having done his job and received what he deserved for his work, the doctor got into his chaise and drove home. Outside the gate in the field, he met Ivan Yevseich... The clerk stood on the edge of the road and, looking intently at his feet, was thinking about something. Judging by the wrinkles that furrowed his forehead and the expression of his eyes, his thoughts were intense, painful...
Bulanov... Cheresedelnikov... - he muttered. Zasuponin... Horse...
Ivan Evseich! - the doctor turned to him. - Can I, my dear, buy five quarters of oats from you? Our peasants sell me oats, but they are too bad...
Ivan Yevseich looked blankly at the doctor, smiled somehow wildly and, without saying a single word in response, clasped his hands and ran towards the estate as quickly as if a mad dog was chasing him.
I've thought of it, Your Excellency! - he shouted joyfully, not in his own voice, flying into the general’s office. - I thought of it, God bless the doctor! Oats! Ovsov is the name of the excise man! Ovsov, Your Excellency! Send a dispatch to Ovsov!
I messed up! - said the general with contempt and raised two cookies to his face. I don’t need your horse name now! I messed up!
Chekhov's horse name read the plot
The main character of the work is retired General Buldeev, in whose life story a funny event happens.
One day, a general living on his own estate begins to suffer from severe toothache. Household members, wanting to help Buldeev, try to use various folk remedies that relieve pain in teeth. Ointments, rinses, and lotions are used, but none of the methods alleviates the general’s suffering, and the general refuses to pull out the aching tooth.
One of Buldeev’s clerks named Ivan Evseevich advises the general to turn to a doctor who, with the help of charm words, can remove toothache. However, this doctor currently is in another city and in order to involve him in the general’s treatment, it is necessary to send him a telegram with a money transfer. The general enthusiastically agrees to this treatment option and sends the man to urgently run to the post office.
But suddenly it turns out that in order to send a telegraph it is necessary to indicate the name of the addressee, which the clerk Ivan Evseevich in the turmoil cannot remember. The only thing that comes to the clerk’s mind is the similarity of the doctor’s name with horses. Ivan Evseevich begins to frantically go through everything possible options surnames associated with horse themes, but even the help of all the general’s household members present, including the servants, does not lead to the desired result. Exhausted people list different names: Loshadinin, Zherebkin, Zbruev, Kobylin, but the desperate clerk understands that this is all wrong.
In the end, the clerk runs to neighboring houses and encourages residents to think about other options for the surname.
At this time, the general, suffering from unimaginable pain, calls a doctor, who, arriving at the estate, pulls out the aching tooth and relieves Buldeev from physical torment. Returning from the general, the doctor meets the clerk Ivan Evseevich, who, according to rumors, has oats for sale good quality. The doctor invites the clerk to sell him some oats and the correct surname pops up in the clerk’s memory - Ovsov.
Ivan Evseevich rushes to the general’s estate to tell him the good news, but the already cured Buldeev drives the stupid clerk out of the house, showing him the fig.
Narrating the events of the story, the writer describes a situation that often occurs in human life, When necessary information on the tip of the tongue, but absent from memory.
In the village next door lived Ivan and Ivan, one Rich, the other Poor. Ivan the Rich was respected by many, because he was in charge of wealth. All Ivan Bedny did all his life was work.
Retired Major General Buldeev had a toothache. He rinsed his mouth with vodka, cognac, applied tobacco soot, opium, turpentine, kerosene to the sore tooth, smeared his cheek with iodine, and had cotton wool soaked in alcohol in his ears, but all this either did not help or caused nausea. The doctor arrived. He picked the tooth and prescribed quinine, but that didn’t help either. The general refused the offer to pull out a bad tooth. Everyone in the household - wife, children, servants, even the cook Petka - each offered their own remedy. By the way, Buldeev’s clerk Ivan Yevseich came to him and advised him to undergo treatment with a conspiracy.
“Here, in our district, Your Excellency,” he said, “ten years ago, excise officer Yakov Vasilich served.” He spoke with his teeth - first class. It happened that he would turn to the window, whisper, spit - and as if with his hand! Such strength has been given to him...
-Where is he now?
“And after he was fired from the excise department, he lives with his mother-in-law in Saratov.” Now he only feeds with his teeth. If someone has a toothache, then they go to him, he helps... He uses people from Saratov at his home, and if they are from other cities, then by telegraph. Send him, Your Excellency, a dispatch that this is how it is... the servant of God Alexy has a toothache, please use it. And you will send money for treatment by mail.
- Nonsense! Quackery!
- Try it, Your Excellency. He is very fond of vodka, lives not with his wife, but with a German woman, a scolder, but, one might say, a miraculous gentleman!
- Let's go, Alyosha! – the general’s wife begged. – You don’t believe in conspiracies, but I experienced it myself. Although you don’t believe it, why not send it? Your hands won't fall off because of this.
“Well, okay,” Buldeev agreed. - Here you will not only send a dispatch to the excise department, but also send a dispatch to hell... Oh! No urine! Well, where does your excise man live? How to write to him?
The general sat down at the table and took the pen in his hands.
“Every dog in Saratov knows him,” said the clerk. - Please write, Your Excellency, to the city of Saratov, therefore... To His Honor Mr. Yakov Vasilich... Vasilich...
- Vasilich... Yakov Vasilich... and by his last name... But I forgot his last name!.. Vasilich... Damn... What's his last name? I remembered how I walked here just now... Excuse me...
Ivan Yevseich raised his eyes to the ceiling and moved his lips. Buldeev and the general's wife waited impatiently.
- Well, what then? Think quickly!
- Now... Vasilich... Yakov Vasilich... I forgot! Such a simple surname... like a horse... Kobyliy? No, not Kobyliy. Wait... Are there any stallions? No, and not Zherebtsov. I remember the last name is a horse, but I lost my mind which one...
- Foal breeders?
- No way. Wait... Kobylitsyn... Kobylyatnikov... Kobelev...
- This is a dog's, not a horse's. Stallions?
- No, and not Zherebchikov... Loshadinin... Loshakov... Zherebkin... It’s not the same!
- Well, how am I going to write to him? Think about it!
- Now. Loshadkin... Kobylkin... Root...
- Korennikov? – asked the general’s wife.
- No way. Pristyazhkin... No, that’s not it! Forgot!
- So why the hell are you bothering with advice if you forgot? – the general got angry. - Get out of here!
Ivan Yevseich slowly left, and the general grabbed his cheek and walked through the rooms.
- Oh, fathers! - he yelled. - Oh, mothers! Oh, I don’t see white light!
The clerk went out into the garden and, raising his eyes to the sky, began to recall the name of the excise man:
- Zherebchikov... Zherebkovsky... Zherebenko... No, that’s not it! Loshadinsky... Loshadevich... Zherebkovich... Kobylyansky...
A little later he was called to the gentlemen.
- Do you remember? – asked the general.
- No, your Excellency.
– Maybe Konyavsky? Horse people? No?
And everyone in the house vied with each other to invent surnames. We went through all the ages, genders and breeds of horses, remembered the mane, hooves, harness... In the house, in the garden, in the servants' room and kitchen, people walked from corner to corner and, scratching their foreheads, looked for a surname.
The clerk was constantly required into the house.
- Tabunov? - they asked him. - Kopytin? Zherebovsky?
“No way,” answered Ivan Yevseich and, raising his eyes, continued to think out loud: “Konenko... Konchenko... Zherebeev... Kobyleev...
- Dad! - they shouted from the nursery. - Troykin! Uzdechkin!
The whole estate was excited. The impatient, tortured general promised to give five rubles to anyone who remembered his real name, and whole crowds began to follow Ivan Yevseich...
- Gnedov! - they told him. - Trotter! Loshaditsky!
But evening came, and the name was still not found. So they went to bed without sending a telegram.
The general did not sleep all night, walked from corner to corner and moaned... At three o'clock in the morning he left the house and knocked on the clerk's window.
“No, not Merinov, your Excellency,” Ivan Yevseich answered and sighed guiltily.
- Yes, maybe the name is not horse, but some other!
– Truly, your Excellency, a horse... I remember this very well.
- What a memoryless brother you are... For me now this surname is more valuable, it seems, than anything in the world. I'm exhausted!
In the morning the general again sent for the doctor.
- Let him vomit! - he decided. - There is no more strength to endure...
The doctor arrived and pulled out the bad tooth. The pain subsided immediately, and the general calmed down. Having done his job and received what he deserved for his work, the doctor got into his chaise and drove home. Outside the gate in the field, he met Ivan Yevseich... The clerk stood on the edge of the road and, looking intently at his feet, was thinking about something. Judging by the wrinkles that furrowed his forehead and the expression of his eyes, his thoughts were intense, painful...
“Bulanov... Cheresedelnikov...” he muttered. - Zasuponin... Horse...
- Ivan Yevseich! - the doctor turned to him. “Can I, my dear, buy about five quarters of oats from you?” Our peasants sell me oats, but they are too bad...
Ivan Yevseich looked blankly at the doctor, smiled somehow wildly and, without saying a single word in response, clasped his hands and ran towards the estate as quickly as if a mad dog was chasing him.
- I thought of it, Your Excellency! – he shouted joyfully, not in his own voice, flying into the general’s office. - I thought of it, God bless the doctor! Oats! Ovsov is the name of the excise man! Ovsov, Your Excellency! Send a dispatch to Ovsov!
- Screw it! - said the general with contempt and raised two cookies to his face. “I don’t need your horse’s name now!” Screw it!
On this page of the site there is literary work Horse Last Name the author whose name is Chekhov Anton Pavlovich. On the website you can either download the book Horse Surname for free in RTF, TXT, FB2 and EPUB formats, or read online e-book Chekhov Anton Pavlovich - Horse Surname without registration and without SMS.
Archive size with the book Horse Surname = 3.33 KB
HORSE SURNAME
Retired Major General Buldeev had a toothache. He rinsed
mouth with vodka, cognac, applied tobacco soot to a sore tooth, opium,
turpentine, kerosene, smeared his cheek with iodine, in his ears he had cotton wool soaked in
alcohol, but all this either did not help or caused nausea. The doctor arrived.
He picked the tooth and prescribed quinine, but that didn’t help either. On offer
The general refused to pull out a bad tooth. Everyone at home - wife, children,
the servants, even the cook Petka, each offered their own remedy, Between
among other things, and Buldeev’s clerk Ivan Evseich came to him and advised
cure yourself with a conspiracy.
“Here, in our district, Your Excellency,” he said, “years ago.”
Ten years ago, excise officer Yakov Vasilich served. He spoke with his teeth - the first
variety. It happened that he would turn to the window, whisper, spit - and as if with his hand! Force
he was given such a gift...
- Where is he now?
- And after he was fired from the excise, in Saratov at his mother-in-law’s
lives. Now he only feeds with his teeth. If someone gets sick
tooth, then they go to him, he helps... The Saratov locals at home
uses it, and if they are from other cities, then by telegraph. Send him
Your Excellency, I am sending you a message that this is how it is... with the servant of God
Alexia's teeth hurt, please use it. And money for treatment by mail
send it.
- Nonsense! Quackery!
- Try it, Your Excellency. I'm very keen on vodka,
lives not with his wife, but with a German woman, scolder, but, one might say, miraculous
Mr.
- Let's go, Alyosha! - the general's wife begged. - You don’t believe in
conspiracies, and I experienced them myself. Although you don’t believe it, why not send it?
Your hands won't fall off because of this.
“Well, okay,” Buldeev agreed. - This is not just about promotional matters,
but to hell with sending a dispatch... Oh! No urine! Well, where does your excise man live?
How to write to him?
The general sat down at the table and took the pen in his hands.
“Every dog in Saratov knows him,” said the clerk. - If you please
write, Your Excellency, to the city of Saratov, therefore... His
honor Mr. Yakov Vasilich... Vasilich...
- Well?
- Vasilich... Yakov Vasilich... and by last name... And here’s the last name
I forgot!.. Vasilich... Damn... What's his last name? Just now, as I walked here,
I remembered... Excuse me...
Ivan Yevseich raised his eyes to the ceiling and moved his lips. Buldeev and
They waited impatiently for the general.
- Well what? Think quickly!
- Now... Vasilich... Yakov Vasilich... I forgot! So simple
surname... like a horse... Kobylin? No, not Kobylin.
Wait... Are there any stallions? No, and not Zherebtsov. I remember the name is horse,
and which one went out of my head...
- Foal breeders?
- No way. Wait... Kobylitsin... Kobylyatnikov... Kobelev...
- This is a dog's, not a horse's. Stallions?
- No, and not Zherebchikov... Loshadinin... Loshakov... Zherebkin... Still not
That!
- Well, how am I going to write to him? Think about it!
- Now. Loshadkin... Kobylkin... Root...
- Korennikov? - asked the general’s wife.
- No way. Pristyazhkin... No, that’s not it! Forgot!
- So why the hell are you bothering with advice if you forgot? -
the general got angry. - Get out of here!
Ivan Yevseich slowly walked out, and the general grabbed his cheek and walked in
by room.
- Oh, fathers! - he yelled. - Oh, mothers! Oh, I don’t see white light!
The clerk went out into the garden and, raising his eyes to the sky, began to remember
name of the excise officer:
- Zherebchikov... Zherebkovsky... Zherebenko... No, that’s not it!
Loshadinsky... Loshadevich... Zherebkovich... Kobylyansky...
A little later he was called to the gentlemen.
- Do you remember? - asked the general.
- No, your Excellency.
- Maybe Konyavsky? Horse people? No?
And in the house, everyone vying with each other, they began to invent surnames. We went through everything
ages, genders and breeds of horses, remembered the mane, hooves, harness... In the house,
in the garden, in the servants' room and kitchen, people walked from corner to corner and, scratching their foreheads,
looking for a last name...
The clerk was constantly required into the house.
- Tabunov? - they asked him. - Kopytin? Zherebovsky?
“No way,” answered Ivan Evechi and, raising his eyes, continued
think out loud: - Konenko... Konchenko... Zherebeev... Kobyleev...
- Dad! - they shouted from the nursery. - Troykin! Uzdechkin!
- The whole estate was excited. An impatient, tortured general
promised to give five rubles to anyone who remembered his real name, and for
Whole crowds began to visit Ivan Yevseich...
- Gnedov! - they told him. - Trotter! Loshaditsky!
But evening came, and the name was still not found. So go to sleep
went to bed without sending a telegram.
The general did not sleep all night, walked from corner to corner and moaned... In the third
At one o'clock in the morning he left the house and knocked on the clerk's window.
- Isn’t it Merinov? - he asked in a crying voice.
“No, not Merinov, your Excellency,” answered Ivan Yevseich and
sighed guiltily.
- Yes, maybe the surname is not horse, but some other!
- Truly the word, Your Excellency, horse... This is very
I remember it very well.
- What a memoryless brother you are... For me now this surname
more expensive, it seems, than anything in the world. I'm exhausted!
In the morning the general again sent for the doctor.
- Let him vomit! - he decided. - I have no more strength to endure...
The doctor arrived and pulled out the bad tooth. The pain subsided immediately, and the general
calmed down. Having done his job and received what he deserved for his work, the doctor sat down in
his chaise and drove home. Outside the gate in the field he met Ivan
Evseich... The clerk stood on the edge of the road and, looking intently below him
legs, thinking about something. Judging by the wrinkles that furrowed his forehead and the
the expression of his eyes, his thoughts were tense, painful...
“Bulanov... Cheresedelnikov...” he muttered. - Zasuponin...
Horse...
- Ivan Evseich! - the doctor turned to him. - Can I, my dear,
Should I buy five quarters of oats from you? Our men sell me oats, yeah
painfully bad...
Ivan Yevseich looked blankly at the doctor, smiled wildly and, not
saying not a single word in response, clasping his hands, ran to the estate with
so quickly, as if a mad dog was chasing him.
- I thought of it, Your Excellency! - he shouted joyfully, not to himself
voice, flying into the general’s office. - I thought of it, God bless the doctor!
Oats! Ovsov is the name of the excise man! Ovsov, Your Excellency! Send
dispatch to Ovsov!
- I messed up! - said the general with contempt and brought his two
fig. - I don’t need your horse name now! I messed up!
It would be great to have a book Horse Last Name author Chekhov Anton Pavlovich you would like it!
If so, then would you recommend this book? Horse Last Name to your friends by placing a hyperlink to the page with this work: Anton Pavlovich Chekhov - Horse Surname.
Keywords pages: Horse Surname; Chekhov Anton Pavlovich, download, free, read, book, electronic, online
Anton Pavlovich Chekhov's story "The Horse's Name" refers to early stage creativity of the prose writer. In the public and everyday personal lives of his characters, Chekhov knew how to notice those situations that were absurd, funny, and sad. The inner comedy of the situation itself, revealed through the actions and deeds of unremarkable people - distinguishing feature the writer's early works.
The dynamic beginning of the story is characterized by the absence of detailed descriptions and lengthy reflections. The reader's attention is immediately drawn to the very image of the main character, a retired general who suddenly developed a toothache. Instead of descriptions, there are lively dialogues of the heroes of the story: General Buldeev, household members, clerk Ivan Evseevich, who advised to contact to the good doctor, but I forgot his last name. Ivan Evseevich only remembered that the doctor’s last name was “horse”. The comedy of the current situation is enhanced by the bustle and commotion in the house and attempts to remember the name of the doctor, resorting to various associations associated with horses, when different variants, from Loshadkin to Uzdechkin, and in the end I suddenly remember my real name - Ovsov. The anecdotal nature of what happened is emphasized by deliberately distorted speech and absurdly funny actions and actions. The denouement is no less funny when the respectable general shows two figs to the clerk.
In short stories, Chekhov touched upon large issues related to the social and moral side of human existence and society. Works in which the funny and tragic are closely intertwined, absurd and vicious traits are revealed individuals and all humanity - are still relevant today. You can read the entire story “The Horse's Name” by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov and download it on the website.
Horse surname
Retired Major General Buldeev had a toothache. He rinsed his mouth with vodka, cognac, applied tobacco soot, opium, turpentine, kerosene to the sore tooth, smeared his cheek with iodine, and had cotton wool soaked in alcohol in his ears, but all this either did not help or caused nausea. The doctor arrived. He picked the tooth and prescribed quinine, but that didn’t help either. The general refused the offer to pull out a bad tooth. Everyone in the household - wife, children, servants, even the cook Petka - each offered their own remedy. By the way, Buldeev’s clerk Ivan Yevseich came to him and advised him to undergo treatment with a conspiracy.
“Here, in our district, Your Excellency,” he said, “ten years ago, excise officer Yakov Vasilich served.” He spoke with his teeth - first class. It happened that he would turn to the window, whisper, spit - and as if with his hand! Such strength has been given to him...
-Where is he now?
“And after he was fired from the excise department, he lives with his mother-in-law in Saratov.” Now he only feeds with his teeth. If someone has a toothache, then they go to him, he helps... He uses people from Saratov at his home, and if they are from other cities, then by telegraph. Send him, Your Excellency, a dispatch that this is how it is... the servant of God Alexy has a toothache, please use it. And you will send money for treatment by mail.
- Nonsense! Quackery!
- Try it, Your Excellency. He is very fond of vodka, lives not with his wife, but with a German woman, a scolder, but, one might say, a miraculous gentleman!
- Let's go, Alyosha! – the general’s wife begged. – You don’t believe in conspiracies, but I experienced it myself. Although you don’t believe it, why not send it? Your hands won't fall off because of this.
“Well, okay,” Buldeev agreed. - Here you will not only send a dispatch to the excise department, but also send a dispatch to hell... Oh! No urine! Well, where does your excise man live? How to write to him?
The general sat down at the table and took the pen in his hands.
“Every dog in Saratov knows him,” said the clerk. - Please write, Your Excellency, to the city of Saratov, therefore... To His Honor Mr. Yakov Vasilich... Vasilich...
- Vasilich... Yakov Vasilich... and by his last name... But I forgot his last name!.. Vasilich... Damn... What's his last name? I remembered how I walked here just now... Excuse me...
Ivan Yevseich raised his eyes to the ceiling and moved his lips. Buldeev and the general's wife waited impatiently.
- Well, what then? Think quickly!
- Now... Vasilich... Yakov Vasilich... I forgot! Such a simple surname... like a horse... Kobyliy? No, not Kobyliy. Wait... Are there any stallions? No, and not Zherebtsov. I remember the last name is a horse, but I lost my mind which one...
- Foal breeders?
- No way. Wait... Kobylitsyn... Kobylyatnikov... Kobelev...
- This is a dog's, not a horse's. Stallions?
- No, and not Zherebchikov... Loshadinin... Loshakov... Zherebkin... It’s not the same!
- Well, how am I going to write to him? Think about it!
- Now. Loshadkin... Kobylkin... Root...
- Korennikov? – asked the general’s wife.
- No way. Pristyazhkin... No, that’s not it! Forgot!
- So why the hell are you bothering with advice if you forgot? – the general got angry. - Get out of here!
Ivan Yevseich slowly left, and the general grabbed his cheek and walked through the rooms.
- Oh, fathers! - he yelled. - Oh, mothers! Oh, I don’t see white light!
The clerk went out into the garden and, raising his eyes to the sky, began to recall the name of the excise man:
- Zherebchikov... Zherebkovsky... Zherebenko... No, that’s not it! Loshadinsky... Loshadevich... Zherebkovich... Kobylyansky...
A little later he was called to the gentlemen.
- Do you remember? – asked the general.
- No, your Excellency.
– Maybe Konyavsky? Horse people? No?
And everyone in the house vied with each other to invent surnames. We went through all the ages, genders and breeds of horses, remembered the mane, hooves, harness... In the house, in the garden, in the servants' room and kitchen, people walked from corner to corner and, scratching their foreheads, looked for a surname.
The clerk was constantly required into the house.
- Tabunov? - they asked him. - Kopytin? Zherebovsky?
“No way,” answered Ivan Yevseich and, raising his eyes, continued to think out loud: “Konenko... Konchenko... Zherebeev... Kobyleev...
- Dad! - they shouted from the nursery. - Troykin! Uzdechkin!
The whole estate was excited. The impatient, tortured general promised to give five rubles to anyone who remembered his real name, and whole crowds began to follow Ivan Yevseich...
- Gnedov! - they told him. - Trotter! Loshaditsky!
But evening came, and the name was still not found. So they went to bed without sending a telegram.
The general did not sleep all night, walked from corner to corner and moaned... At three o'clock in the morning he left the house and knocked on the clerk's window.
“No, not Merinov, your Excellency,” Ivan Yevseich answered and sighed guiltily.
- Yes, maybe the name is not horse, but some other!
– Truly, your Excellency, a horse... I remember this very well.
- What a memoryless brother you are... For me now this surname is more valuable, it seems, than anything in the world. I'm exhausted!
In the morning the general again sent for the doctor.
- Let him vomit! - he decided. - There is no more strength to endure...
The doctor arrived and pulled out the bad tooth. The pain subsided immediately, and the general calmed down. Having done his job and received what he deserved for his work, the doctor got into his chaise and drove home. Outside the gate in the field, he met Ivan Yevseich... The clerk stood on the edge of the road and, looking intently at his feet, was thinking about something. Judging by the wrinkles that furrowed his forehead and the expression of his eyes, his thoughts were intense, painful...
“Bulanov... Cheresedelnikov...” he muttered. - Zasuponin... Horse...
- Ivan Yevseich! - the doctor turned to him. “Can I, my dear, buy about five quarters of oats from you?” Our peasants sell me oats, but they are too bad...
Ivan Yevseich looked blankly at the doctor, smiled somehow wildly and, without saying a single word in response, clasped his hands and ran towards the estate as quickly as if a mad dog was chasing him.
- I thought of it, Your Excellency! – he shouted joyfully, not in his own voice, flying into the general’s office. - I thought of it, God bless the doctor! Oats! Ovsov is the name of the excise man! Ovsov, Your Excellency! Send a dispatch to Ovsov!
- Screw it! - said the general with contempt and raised two cookies to his face. “I don’t need your horse’s name now!” Screw it!
Loading...
