“But my duty,” went on the chief of police, “is to obey the commands of the authorities. Do you know, Ivan Ivanovich, that a person who purloins a government document in the court-room incurs capital punishment, equally with other criminals?”

“I know it; and, if you like, I can give you lessons. It is so ordered with regard to people—as if you, for instance, were to steal a document; but a sow is an animal, one of God’s creatures.”

“Certainly; but the law reads, ‘Those guilty of theft’… I beg you to listen most attentively—‘Those guilty!’ Here is indicated neither race nor sex nor rank: of course, an animal can be guilty. You may say what you please; but the animal, until the sentence is pronounced by the court, should be committed to the charge of the police, as a transgressor of the law.”

“No, Peter Feodorovich,” retorted Ivan Ivanovich coolly, “that shall not be.”

“As you like: only I must carry out the orders of the authorities.”

“What are you threatening me with? Probably you want to send that one-armed soldier after her. I shall order the woman who tends the door to drive him off with the poker: he’ll get his last arm broken.”

“I dare not dispute with you. In case you will not commit her to the charge of the police, then do what you please with her: kill her for Christmas, if you like, and make hams of her, or eat her as she is. Only I should like to ask you, in case you make sausages, to send me a couple, such as your Gapka makes so well of blood and lard. My Agrafena Trofimovna is extremely fond of them.”

“I will send you a couple of sausages if you permit.”

“I shall be extremely obliged to you, dear friend and benefactor. Now permit me to say one word more. I am commissioned by the judge, as well as by all our acquaintances, so to speak, to effect a reconciliation between you and your friend, Ivan Nikiforovich.”

“What! with that brute! I am to be reconciled to that clown! Never! It shall not be, it shall not be!” Ivan Ivanovich was in a remarkably determined frame of mind.

“As you like,” replied the chief of police, treating both nostrils to snuff. “I will not venture to advise you; but permit me to mention—here you live at enmity, and if you make peace”…

But Ivan Ivanovich began to talk about catching quail, as he usually did when he wanted to put an end to a conversation. So the chief of police was obliged to retire without having achieved any success whatever.

VI

From Which the Reader Can Easily Discover What Is Contained in It

In spite of all the judge’s efforts to keep the matter secret, all Mirgorod knew by the next day that Ivan Ivanovich’s sow had stolen Ivan Nikiforovich’s petition. The chief of police himself, in a moment of forgetfulness, was the first to betray himself. When Ivan Nikiforovich was informed of it, he said nothing: he merely inquired, “Was it the brown one?”

But Agafya Fedosyevna, who was present, began again to urge Ivan Nikiforovich. “What’s the matter with you, Ivan Nikiforovich? People will laugh at you as at a fool if you let it pass. How can you remain a nobleman after that? You will be worse than the old woman who sells the honey-cakes with hemp- seed oil, you are so fond of.” And the mischief-maker persuaded him. She hunted up somewhere a middle-aged man with black complexion, and spots all over his face, and a dark-blue surtout patched on the elbows—a regular official scribbler. He blacked his boots with tar, wore three pens behind his ear, and a glass bubble tied to his button-hole with a string, instead of an ink-bottle: he ate as many as nine pies at once, and put the tenth in his pocket, and wrote so many slanders of all sorts on a single