Kanavkin, who had not expected things to take such a turn, shuddered and the theater fell silent.

" Oh, Kanavkin, " said the emcee in a mildly reproachful tone, " and I was just singing his praises! And he had to go and spoil everything! That

Nikanor ivanovich'$ Dream 141

was not smart, Kanavkin! After what I just said about eyes. It's obvious your aunty has some foreign currency too. So why go on torturing us for no reason? "

" She does have some! " Kanavkin shouted brashly.

" Bravo! " cried the emcee.

" Bravo! " roared the audience.

When the roar subsided, the emcee congratulated Kanavkin, shook his hand, offered to have a car drive him home and then ordered someone in the wings to pick up the aunt in the same car and invite her to attend a performance at the women's theater.

" Oh, by the way, your aunt didn't say where she hid hers, did she? " inquired the emcee, as he kindly offered Kanavkin a cigarette and a lighted match. Kanavkin lit up and managed a woebegone grin.

" I believe you, I do, " sighed the actor. " That old skinflint wouldn't tell the devil where she put it, so why would she tell her nephew. Well, never mind, we'll try and arouse her finer feelings. Perhaps not all the strings in her usurious heart have rotted away. All the best, Kanavkin! "

And a happy Kanavkin departed. The actor then inquired if anyone else wanted to hand over any foreign currency, and he was answered by silence.

" Peculiar birds, I swear! " he said, shrugging his shoulders, and the curtains closed.

The lights went out, it was dark for awhile, and then a nervous tenor could be heard singing from afar, " There are piles of gold there and they all belong to me! "

Then came two bursts of muffled applause from somewhere.

" Somebody's handing over her money in the women's theater, " burst out Nikanor Ivanovich's red-bearded neighbor. He heaved a sigh and added, " Oh, if it weren't for my geese!... You see, I keep some fighting-geese out at Lianozovo... I'm afraid they'll die without me. A fighting-bird is delicate and needs a lot of attention... Oh, if it weren't for my geese! Pushkin can't catch me off guard! " And he heaved another sigh.

At this point bright lights came on in the hall, and Nikanor Ivanovich began to dream that cooks in white hats carrying ladles in their hands came streaming through all the doors into the theater. The cooks were dragging in a vat of soup and a tray filled with slices of black bread. The audience came to life. The merry cooks pushed through the rows of spectators, ladling the soup into bowls and doling out bread.

" Eat up, guys, " cried the cooks, " and hand over your foreign currency! Why sit here for nothing? Who wants to eat this filthy gruel! Go home and have a real drink and some hors d'oeuvres, and feel good! "

" Let's take you, dad, what are you in for? " asked a fat, red-necked cook, addressing Nikanor Ivanovich and passing him a bowl of soup with one lone cabbage leaf floating on top.

" I haven't got any! I haven't got any! " screamed Nikanor Ivanovich in