The golden sturgeon
from Sheksna and the silver pheasant from the Caucasian woods held a
rendezvous with strawberries so seldom to be had in our latitude in
winter..."
"The devil! For God's sake, stop reading, your Excellency. Couldn't
you find something else to read about?" cried the other Official in
sheer desperation. He snatched the paper from his colleague's hands,
and started to read something else.
"Our correspondent in Tula informs us that yesterday a sturgeon was
found in the Upa (an event which even the oldest inhabitants cannot
recall, and all the more remarkable since they recognised the former
police captain in this sturgeon). This was made the occasion for
giving a banquet in the club. The prime cause of the banquet was
served in a large wooden platter garnished with vinegar pickles. A
bunch of parsley stuck out of its mouth. Doctor P---- who acted as
toast-master saw to it that everybody present got a piece of the
sturgeon. The sauces to go with it were unusually varied and
delicate--"
"Permit me, your Excellency, it seems to me you are not so careful
either in the selection of reading matter," interrupted the first
Official, who secured the _Gazette_ again and started to read:
"One of the oldest inhabitants of Viatka has discovered a new and
highly original recipe for fish soup; A live codfish (_lota vulgaris_)
is taken and beaten with a rod until its liver swells up with
anger.
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