Free The Twelve Chairs by Ilya Ilf

snowy ground."

     The choirmaster, wearing a shirt and trousers of the same mouse-grey
material, was beating time with both hands and, turning from side to side,
kept shouting:
     "Descants, softer! Kokushkin, not so loud!"
     He caught sight of Ostap, but unable to restrain the movement of his
hands, merely glanced at the newcomer and continued conducting. The choir
increased its volume with an effort, as though singing through a pillow.

     "Ta-ta-ta, ta-ta-ta, ta-ta-ta,
     Te-ro-rom, tu-ru-rum, tu-ru-rum . . ."

     "Can you tell me where I can find the assistant warden?" asked Ostap,
breaking into the first pause.
     "What do you want, Comrade?"
     Ostap shook the conductor's hand and inquired amiably: "National
folk-songs? Very interesting! I'm the fire inspector."
     The assistant warden looked ashamed.
     "Yes, yes," he said, with embarrassment. "Very opportune. I was
actually going to write you a report."
     "There's nothing to worry about," said Ostap magnanimously. "I'll write
the report myself. Let's take a look at the premises."
     Alchen dismissed the choir with a wave of his hand, and the old women
made off with little steps of delight.
     "Come this way," invited the assistant warden.
     Before going any further, Ostap scrutinized the furniture in the first
room. It consisted of a table, two garden benches with iron legs (one of
them had the name "Nicky" carved on the back), and a light-brown harmonium.
     "Do they use primus stoves or anything of that kind in this room?"
     "No, no. This is where our recreational activities are held. We have a
choir, and drama, painting, drawing, and music circles."
     When he reached the word "music" Alexander Yakovlevich blushed. First
his chin turned red, then his forehead and cheeks. Alchen felt very ashamed.
He had sold all the instruments belonging to the wind section a long time
before. The feeble lungs of the old women had never produced anything more
than a puppy-like squeak from them, anyway. It was ridiculous to see such a
mass of metal in so helpless a condition. Alchen had not been able to resist
selling the wind section, and now he felt very guilty.
     A slogan written in large letters on a piece of the same mouse-grey
woollen cloth spanned the wall between the windows. It said:
    A BRASS BAND IS THE PATH
TO COLLECTIVE CREATIVITY

     "Very good," said Ostap. "This recreation room does not constitute a
fire hazard. Let's go on."
     Passing through the front rooms of Vorobyaninov's house, Ostap could
see no sign of a walnut chair with curved legs and English chintz
upholstery. The iron-smooth walls were plastered with directives issued to
the Second Home. Ostap read them and, from time to time, asked
enthusiastically:
     "Are the chimneys swept regularly? Are the stoves working properly?"
     And, receiving exhaustive answers, moved on.
     The fire inspector made a diligent search for at least one corner of
the house which might constitute a fire hazard, but in that respect
everything seemed to be in order. His second quest, however, was less
successful. Ostap went into the dormitories. As he appeared, the old women
stood up and bowed low. The rooms contained beds covered with blankets, as
hairy as a dog's coat, with the word "Feet" woven at one end. Below the beds
were trunks, which at the initiative of Alexander Yakovlevich, who liked to
do things in a military fashion, projected exactly one-third of their
length.
     Everything in the Home was marked by its extreme modesty; the furniture
that consisted solely of garden benches taken from Alexander Boulevard (now
renamed in honour of the Proletarian Voluntary Saturdays), the paraffin
lamps bought at the local market, and the very blankets with that
frightening word, "Feet". One feature of the house, however, had been made
to last and was developed on a grand scale-to wit, the door springs.
     Door springs were Alexander Yakovlevich's passion. Sparing no effort,
he fitted all the doors in the house with springs of different types and
systems.