The Twelve Chairs / Двенадцать стульев. Книга для чтения на английском языке

The stranger's boots had metal studs, and at first Ippolit Matveyevich came off badly. But he soon adjusted himself, and, skipping to the left and right as though doing a Cossack dance, managed to dodge his opponents' blows, trying at the same time to catch him in the stomach. He was not successful, since the chair was in the way, but he managed to land him a kick on the kneecap, after which the enemy could only lash out with one leg.

В«Oh, Lord!В» whispered the stranger.

It was at this moment that Ippolit Matveyevich saw that the stranger who had carried off his chair in the most outrageous manner was none other than Father Theodore, priest of the Church of St.

В«Father!В» he exclaimed, removing his hands from the chair in astonishment.

Father Vostrikov turned purple and finally loosed his grip. The chair, no longer supported by either of them, fell on to the brick-strewn ground.

В«Where's your moustache, my dear Ippolit Matveyevich?В» asked the cleric as caustically as possible.

В«And what about your curls? You used to have curls, I believe!В»

Ippolit Matveyevich's words conveyed utter contempt. He threw Father Theodore a look of singular disgust and, tucking the chair under his arm, turned to go. But the priest had now recovered from his embarrassment and was not going to yield Vorobyaninov such an easy victory. With a cry of В«No, I'm sorryВ», he grasped hold of the chair again. Their initial position was restored. The two opponents stood clutching the chair and, moving from side to side, sized one another up like cats or boxers.

В«So you're after my property, Holy Father?В» said Ippolit Matveyevich through clenched teeth and kicked the holy father in the hip.

Father Theodore feinted and viciously kicked the marshal in the groin, making him double up.

В«It's not your propertyВ».

В«Whose then?В»

В«Not yours!В»

В«Whose then?В»

В«Not yours!В»

В«Whose then? Whose?В»

Spitting at each other in this way, they kept kicking furiously.

В«Whose property is it then?В» screeched the marshal, sinking his foot in the holy father's stomach.

В«It's nationalized propertyВ», said the holy father firmly, overcoming his pain.

В«Nationalized?В»

В«Yes, nationalizedВ».

They were jerking out the words so quickly that they ran together.

В«Who-nationalized-it?В»

В«The-Soviet-Government. The-Soviet-GovernmentВ».