Ivan Ivanovitch is very fond of receiving presents.They please him greatly.
A very fine man too is Ivan Nikiforovitch.They are such friends as the world never saw.Anton Prokofievitch Pupopuz, who goes about to this hour in his cinnamon-coloured surtout with blue sleeves and dines every Sunday with the judge, was in the habit of saying that the Devil himself had bound Ivan Ivanovitch and Ivan Nikiforovitch together with a rope: where one went, the other followed.
Ivan Nikiforovitch has never married.Although it was reported that he was married it was completely false.I know Ivan Nikiforovitch very well, and am able to state that he never even had any intention of marrying.Where do all these scandals originate? In the same way it was rumoured that Ivan Nikiforovitch was born with a tail! But this invention is so clumsy and at the same time so horrible and indecent that I do not even consider it necessary to refute it for the benefit of civilised readers, to whom it is doubtless known that only witches, and very few even of these, have tails.Witches, moreover, belong more to the feminine than to the masculine gender.
In spite of their great friendship, these rare friends are not always agreed between themselves.Their characters can best be judged by comparing them.Ivan Ivanovitch has the usual gift of speaking in an extremely pleasant manner.Heavens! How he does speak! The feeling can best be described by comparing it to that which you experience when some one combs your head or draws his finger softly across your heel.
You listen and listen until you drop your head.Pleasant, exceedingly pleasant! like the sleep after a bath.Ivan Nikiforovitch, on the contrary, is more reticent; but if he once takes up his parable, look out for yourself! He can talk your head off.
Ivan Ivanovitch is tall and thin: Ivan Nikiforovitch is rather shorter in stature, but he makes it up in thickness.Ivan Ivanovitch's head is like a radish, tail down; Ivan Nikiforovitch's like a radish with the tail up.Ivan Ivanovitch lolls on the balcony in his shirt sleeves after dinner only: in the evening he dons his pelisse and goes out somewhere, either to the village shop, where he supplies flour, or into the fields to catch quail.Ivan Nikiforovitch lies all day at his porch: if the day is not too hot he generally turns his back to the sun and will not go anywhere.If it happens to occur to him in the morning he walks through the yard, inspects the domestic affairs, and retires again to his room.In early days he used to call on Ivan Ivanovitch.Ivan Ivanovitch is a very refined man, and never utters an impolite word.Ivan Nikiforovitch is not always on his guard.On such occasions Ivan Ivanovitch usually rises from his seat, and says, "Enough, enough, Ivan Nikiforovitch! It's better to go out at once than to utter such godless words."Ivan Ivanovitch gets into a terrible rage if a fly falls into his beet-soup.Then he is fairly beside himself; he flings away his plate and the housekeeper catches it.Ivan Nikiforovitch is very fond of bathing; and when he gets up to the neck in water, orders a table and a samovar, or tea urn, to be placed on the water, for he is very fond of drinking tea in that cool position.Ivan Ivanovitch shaves twice a week; Ivan Nikiforovitch once.Ivan Ivanovitch is extremely curious.
God preserve you if you begin to tell him anything and do not finish it! If he is displeased with anything he lets it be seen at once.It is very hard to tell from Ivan Nikiforovitch's countenance whether he is pleased or angry; even if he is rejoiced at anything, he will not show it.Ivan Ivanovitch is of a rather timid character: Ivan Nikiforovitch, on the contrary, has, as the saying is, such full folds in his trousers that if you were to inflate them you might put the courtyard, with its storehouses and buildings, inside them.
Ivan Ivanovitch has large, expressive eyes, of a snuff colour, and a mouth shaped something like the letter V; Ivan Nikiforovitch has small, yellowish eyes, quite concealed between heavy brows and fat cheeks; and his nose is the shape of a ripe plum.If Ivanovitch treats you to snuff, he always licks the cover of his box first with his tongue, then taps on it with his finger and says, as he raises it, if you are an acquaintance, "Dare I beg you, sir, to give me the pleasure?" if a stranger, "Dare I beg you, sir, though I have not the honour of knowing your rank, name, and family, to do me the favour?"but Ivan Nikiforovitch puts his box straight into your hand and merely adds, "Do me the favour." Neither Ivan Ivanovitch nor Ivan Nikiforovitch loves fleas; and therefore, neither Ivan Ivanovitch nor Ivan Nikiforovitch will, on no account, admit a Jew with his wares, without purchasing of him remedies against these insects, after having first rated him well for belonging to the Hebrew faith.
But in spite of numerous dissimilarities, Ivan Ivanovitch and Ivan Nikiforovitch are both very fine fellows.
