refractory leg, which obeyed no orders whatever on this occasion, and, as if with malice aforethought, swung itself uncommonly far, and in quite the contrary direction (which possibly resulted from the fact that there had been an unusual amount of fruit-wine after dinner), so that Ivan Ivanovich fell over a lady in a red gown, who had thrust herself into the very centre, out of curiosity. Such an omen foreboded nothing good. Nevertheless, the judge, in order to set the matter to rights, took the chief of police’s place, and, sweeping all the snuff from his upper lip with his nose, pushed Ivan Ivanovich in the opposite direction. In Mirgorod this is the usual manner of effecting a reconciliation: it somewhat resembles a game of ball. As soon as the judge pushed Ivan Ivanovich, Ivan Ivanovich with the one eye exerted all his strength, and pushed Ivan Nikiforovich, from whom the perspiration streamed like rain-water from the roofs. In spite of the fact that the friends resisted to the best of their ability, nevertheless they were brought together, for the two active movers received re-enforcements from the ranks of the guests.

Then they were closely surrounded on all sides, not to be released until they had decided to give each other their hands. “God be with you, Ivan Nikiforovich and Ivan Ivanovich! declare upon your honor now, what you quarrelled about; trifles, wasn’t it? aren’t you ashamed of yourselves before people and before God?”

“I do not know,” said Ivan Nikiforovich, panting with fatigue (it is to be observed that he was not at all disinclined to a reconciliation), “I do not know what I did to Ivan Ivanovich; but why did he destroy my coop, and plot against my life?”

“I am innocent of any evil designs!” said Ivan Ivanovich, never looking at Ivan Nikiforovich, “I swear before God and before you, honorable noblemen, I did nothing to my enemy! Why does he calumniate me, and injure my rank and family?”

“What injury have I done you, Ivan Ivanovich?” said Ivan Nikiforovich. One moment more of explanation, and the long enmity was on the point of being extinguished. Ivan Nikiforovich was already feeling in his pocket for his snuff-box, and was about to say, “Do me the favor.”

“Is it no injury,” answered Ivan Ivanovich, without raising his eyes, “when you, my dear sir, insulted my honor and my family with a word which it is improper to repeat here?”

“Permit me to observe, in a friendly manner, Ivan Ivanovich (here Ivan Nikiforovich touched Ivan Ivanovich’s button with his finger, which clearly indicated the disposition of his mind), that you took offence, the deuce only knows at what, because I called you a goose.”…

It came over Ivan Nikiforovich that he had made a mistake in uttering that word; but it was too late: the word was out. Everything went to the deuce. If, on the utterance of this word without witnesses, Ivan Ivanovich lost control of himself, and flew into such a passion as God preserve us from beholding any man in, what was to be expected now? I put it to you, dear readers, what was to be expected now, when the fatal word was uttered in an assemblage of persons among whom were ladies, in whose presence Ivan Ivanovich liked to be particularly polite? If Ivan Nikiforovich had set to work in any other manner, if he had only said bird and not goose, it might still have been arranged; but… all was at an end.

He cast one glance upon Ivan Nikiforovich, and such a glance! If that glance had possessed active power, then it would have turned Ivan Nikiforovich into dust. The guests understood the glance, and hastened to separate them. And this man, the very model of gentleness, who never let a single poor woman go without interrogating her, rushed out in a fearful rage. Such violent storms do passions produce!

For a whole month nothing was heard of Ivan Ivanovich. He shut himself up at home. His ancestral chest was opened; from the chest was taken—what? silver rubles, his grandfather’s old silver rubles! And these rubles passed into the ink-stained hands of legal advisers. The case was sent up to the higher court; and when Ivan Ivanovich received the joyful news that it would be decided on the morrow, then only did he look out upon the world, and resolve to emerge from his house. Alas! from that time forth,