Russian Stories by Gleb Struve

Author:Gleb Struve
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dover Publications

In actual fact, however, it turned out to be about half an hour’s walk, but the psalmodist seemed to want a “promenage,” perhaps not without an intention of displaying the cane with a purple silk tassel which he had in his hand.

The district where Lepoutant’s house was located was beyond the Moskva river, toward the Yauza, somewhere on its banks. I no longer remember in what parish it was nor what the street was called. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t a street but rather a sort of dead-end alley, something like an old churchyard. A little church stood there, and at a right angle to it, there was a close and in it six or seven little cottages, all very small, gray, wooden, one of them on a stone semi-basement. This one was more showy and bigger than all the others, and along the whole length of its facade was fixed a large iron signboard on which, in big and clear letters of gold on a black background, was inscribed:

“Maitr taileur Lepoutant

Apparently, my new quarters were here, but it appeared strange to me: why did my landlord, whose name was Vasily Konych, call himself ‘maitr taileur Lepoutant’? When the priest called him that, I thought it was no more than a joke and did not attach any importance to it, but now, seeing the sign, I had to change my mind. Apparently this was in all earnest, and I therefore asked my guide:

“Is Vasily Konych a Russian or a Frenchman?”

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