a different and even
better way they were quite willing to admit, so long as they were not
compelled to conform to it. At seven o'clock Kalliopitch produced the
inevitable supper of cold hash, and at nine the high striped feather-bed
received their rotund little bodies in its soft embrace, and a calm,
untroubled sleep soon descended upon their eyelids. Everything in the
little house became hushed; the little lamp before the icon glowed and
glimmered, the funny innocent little pair slept the sound sleep of the
just, amidst the fragrant scent of musk and the chirping of the cricket.

To these two odd little people, or poll-parrots as Paklin called them,
who were taking care of his sister, he now conducted his friends.

Paklin's sister was a clever girl with a fairly attractive face. She had
wonderfully beautiful eyes, but her unfortunate deformity had completely
broken her spirit, deprived her of self-confidence, joyousness, made her
mistrustful and even spiteful. She had been given the unfortunate name
of Snandulia, and to Paklin's request that she should be re-christened
Sophia, she replied that it was just as it should be; a hunchback ought
to be called Snandulia; so she stuck to her strange name. She was an
excellent musician and played the piano very well. "Thanks to my long
fingers," she would say, not without a touch of bitterness. "Hunchbacks
always have fingers like that."

The visitors came upon Fomishka and Fimishka at the very minute when
they had awakened from their afternoon nap and were drinking bilberry
wine.

"We are going into the eighteenth century!" Paklin exclaimed as they
crossed the threshold of the Subotchevs' house.

And really they were confronted by the eighteenth century in the very
hall, with its low bluish screens, ornamented with black silhouettes
cut out of paper, of powdered ladies and gentlemen. Silhouettes, first
introduced by Lavater, were much in vogue in the eighties of last
century.

The sudden appearance of such a large number of guests--four all at
once--produced quite a sensation in the usually quiet house. A hurried
sound of feet, both shod and unshod, was heard, several women thrust
their heads through the door and instantly drew them back again,
someone was pushed, another groaned, a third giggled, someone whispered
excitedly, "Be quiet, do!"

At last Kalliopitch made his appearance in his old coat, and opening the
drawing-room door announced in a loud voice:

"Sila S