Retelling plan

1. Characteristics of Akaki Akakievich.
2. Akaki Akakievich orders himself a new overcoat.
3. The robbers take off the overcoat from the poor official.
4. Akaki Akakievich seeks the truth from a private bailiff, from a general.
5. The official dies of grief.
6. The ghost of an official frightens passers-by.

Retelling

In one department there was one official: short, somewhat pockmarked, somewhat reddish, half-blind ... He was what is called the eternal titular councilor. The official's surname was Bashmachkin. His name was Akaki Akakievich. At the baptism "he burst into tears and made such a grimace as if he had a presentiment that there would be a titular councilor." Over the years, he held one position - an official for writing. No one at work respected him, the young "made fun of him and made fun of him." Akaki Akakievich was an unrequited person. "Only if the joke was too unbearable, he said:" Leave me, why are you offending me? " Akaki Akakievich served "zealously ... with love", he even had his own favorite letters. He could do nothing but mechanically rewrite documents.

Akaki Akakievich lived poorly: he dressed poorly, ate dinner "with flies and with everything that God sent ...", did not allow himself any entertainment. "Having written his fill, he went to bed, smiling in advance at the thought of tomorrow: will God send something to rewrite tomorrow?" He "knew how to be content with his lot." Everything would be fine if it were not for the cold: his old overcoat is worn out, the object of ridicule of his comrades. "The cloth was so worn out that it blew through, and the lining was creeping." Akaky Akakievich took the overcoat to the tailor, but he refused to remake it: "the matter is rotten through and through" and advised to sew a new one. For Akaky Akakievich, the sum of one and a half hundred rubles was inconceivable: “This is such a thing, I really didn’t think it would come out that way ...” How much money to make an overcoat? “Petrovich will undertake to do it for eighty rubles; however, where do you get them from? " Bashmachkin used to save a penny from each ruble; over the course of several years "more than forty rubles" had accumulated. He decided to save on everything: he learned not to light candles, to walk on tiptoe so as not to wear out his shoes, to go hungry in the evenings ... "but he ate spiritually, carrying in his thoughts the eternal idea of ​​a future greatcoat." “From that time on, as if his very existence had become fuller, as if he had married; became somehow more alive, even more firm in character, like a person who has already determined and set a goal for himself. Finally the money was collected. Bashmachkin, together with a tailor, bought a cloth, a calico for a lining (instead of silk) and a cat for a collar (instead of a marten). Two weeks later, the overcoat was ready, "just right." The tailor solemnly dressed Akaki Akakievich and even ran after him to admire his work once again.

"Akaki Akakievich walked in the most festive disposition of all feelings." In the department all the colleagues came running to look at the new overcoat; they persuaded Akaki Akakievich to "inject" a new thing. One official invited everyone to his place. In the evening Akaki Akakievich went to see him in a new greatcoat. He felt uncomfortable, bored and tried to leave unnoticed. On the way home he was beaten and his overcoat was taken away. "Desperate, not getting tired of shouting, he started to run across the square to the booth." But the guard answered that he had not seen how Akaki Akakievich was robbed, and sent him to the guard. In the morning, on the advice of the landlady, he went to the private bailiff, hardly got to the reception, but realized that there was little hope of returning the overcoat. A colleague advised me to contact one significant person. Akaki Akakievich decided to go. The "ordinary conversation" of a significant person "with the lower ones responded with severity and consisted of almost three phrases:" How dare you? Do you know who you are talking to? Do you understand who is standing in front of you? " However, he was a kind person at heart, but the rank of general completely confused him. " Seeing the humble look of Bashmachkin, his old uniform, the general shouted at the official, stamped his feet and kicked him out. Frightened Akaki Akakievich caught a cold on the way home, lay in a fever and soon died. From the inheritance remained only a bunch of goose feathers, white government paper, three pairs of socks, two or three buttons, torn from pantaloons and a shabby uniform. “And St. Petersburg was left without Akaki Akakievich, as if he had never been there. The creature disappeared and disappeared, not protected by anyone, not dear to anyone, not interesting to anyone. " The department realized about him only on the fourth day. But who would have thought that Akaky Akakievich was destined "to live noisily for several days after his death, as if as a reward for a life unnoticed by anyone." Rumors spread through St. Petersburg that at the Kalinkin bridge they began to appear at night "... a dead man in the form of an official looking for some stolen overcoat." In the dead, someone recognized Akaki Akakievich. The dead official began to instill considerable fear in all timid people, pulling off his greatcoats at night.

After Akaki Akakievich's visit, the general felt something like regret, sent to him and learned about his death. He was somewhat upset, but quickly dispersed at an evening with a friend. One day he was riding in a sleigh and suddenly felt that someone grabbed him by the collar. “Not without horror,” the general recognized Akaki Akakievich, who said: “Your greatcoat is what I need!” Frightened to death, the general "himself even took off his greatcoat as soon as possible." "From that time on, the appearance of a" dead official "has completely stopped: apparently, the general's overcoat fell completely on his shoulders."

"The Overcoat" is one of Gogol's Petersburg stories. Although many consider the Overcoat to be a story due to its small size, in fact it is a story. Be careful not to be mistaken in the definition.

We offer you summary story The Overcoat. The synopsis describes all the key points of the story, so you don't miss out on anything important. Also, for your understanding, the summary of the Overcoat's story is diluted with pictures so that you vividly represent the events taking place.

CHINEL - summary.


Akaki Akakievich Bashmachkin

An unremarkable official served in one department Akaki Akakievich Bashmachkin ... He was small, somewhat pockmarked, reddish, with a small bald spot on his forehead and a “hemorrhoidal” complexion. He was in the rank of the eternal titular councilor.

The name Akaki was given to him by his deceased mother, who did not like calendar names such as Triphilius, Dula and Varakhasy. She decided that they should call the child, what is the name of his father.

Having entered the department, Akaki Akakievich completely got used to the situation. No matter how many directors or employees changed, he could always be seen in the same position, the same official for the letter. Many even believed that he was born in a uniform and with a bald spot on his head.

At work, Bashmachkin was not respected. Even the watchmen perceived his presence as the presence of a flying fly.

The authorities treated him coldly and despotically. Colleagues mocked him, ridiculed his reliability, and even poured torn pieces of paper over his head. However, Akaki Akakievich did not react in any way to these insults, unmistakably rewriting the documents. Only in the most extreme cases did the official ask his colleagues why they offend him. Moreover, this was said in such a tone that once even turned everything inside in one young man who entered the service, made him look differently at everything that was happening, pushed him away from his comrades, who seemed at first glance to be decent secular people.

Akaki Akakievich did his work with zeal, even with love. Seeing such zeal, one kind boss ordered to reward him, to give him a more important task. However, Akaki Akakievich even sweated from exertion and asked that they give him something to simply rewrite. From that moment on, Bashmachkin was left alone.

Rewriting was the meaning of his life. The official did not care about his appearance, and gradually his uniform became a reddish flour color, something was constantly sticking to him. Akaki Akakievich did not notice the life that was seething around him at all. Everything for him came down to neatly written lines.

In the evenings, Akaki Akakievich hastily ate his supper, sometimes not noticing the flies in the dish, and again sat down to rewrite. When there was no work, he copied something just for himself, as a keepsake. This man was a stranger to any kind of entertainment. He received a meager salary, but somehow he had enough, and he was happy about it.

So Akaki Akakievich would have lived to old age, if not for the Petersburg frost. Suddenly the official began to notice that he was hurting his back and shoulder. When he examined his greatcoat, he noticed that it was in these places that the matter had rubbed off, and the lining had completely crawled out. The official decided to take his overcoat to a friend

a tailor who has more than once put patches on Akaki Akakievich's poor wardrobe. The tailor examined the greatcoat and categorically stated that nothing could be done - a new one had to be sewn. The tailor introduced Akaki Akakievich into complete confusion. No matter how the official tried to persuade, the tailor did not want to remake the old greatcoat.

Akaki Akakievich pondered, because a tailor could have sewn an overcoat for as much as eighty rubles, half of this amount, accumulated over several years, Bashmachkin had. Where to get the missing money? The official decided to economize on everything: to give up dinner, to wash clothes less often (and for this to go at home only in a dressing gown), to work only with the master's candle. Fortunately, instead of the expected premium of forty-five rubles, he was given as much as sixty, which contributed to the acceleration of the case. The overcoat became the target of the official, which was reflected even in his appearance: he became more alive, even a light lit up in his eyes. Every month Akaky Akakievich came to the tailor to talk about the upcoming new thing.

Finally, after a few months, the required amount was collected. On the very first day we bought a cloth, a calico for a lining, a cat for a collar, and two weeks later Akaky Akakievich tried on a new overcoat, which fit perfectly. Akaki Akakievich went to the department in an excellent mood.

Colleagues in the service learned about the overcoat and came running to congratulate Akaki Akakiyevich on the update, say that this must be noted. The official was even shy. He was completely confused. Finally, the clerk's assistant showed that he himself would give the evening instead of Akaki Akakievich, and at the same time he would celebrate his name day.

The official began to deny, but he was persuaded, and he wanted to take another walk in a new greatcoat. At the evening, Bashmachkin soon became bored, but the owners did not let him go until he drank a couple of glasses of champagne. The official returned home after midnight. In one of the dark alleys he was met by two robbers with a mustache and took away his greatcoat.

Akaki Akakievich was beside himself with grief. When the thieves disappeared, he rushed to the guard, shouting, he sent him to the warden. The hostess, seeing the plight of the tenant, said that it was best to go to a private investigator - the quarter would cheat. The private person asked the official more about what time and in what condition he returned home than he was completely confused. Some of his colleagues advised the official to contact a significant person.

Akaki Akakievich went to the general himself, who was famous among his subordinates for his unapproachable severity. The official waited a long time and was accepted. He explained to the general that he was robbed and came for help. He asked the general to check with the Chief of Police and find the greatcoat. The significant person felt offended. The general pointed out to Bashmachkin that he had to first submit a request to the office. When the visitor, gathering his courage, declared that the secretaries were unreliable people, the significant person was completely angry. The watchman was carried out of the official’s office almost unconscious. Soon he fell ill with a fever and died suddenly.

Rumors spread through St. Petersburg that a dead man was wandering around the Kalinkin Bridge at night, tearing off the overcoat of passers-by. Once a significant person, wanting to have fun, went to his friend Karolina Ivanovna. The general was sitting in the sleigh and recalled a pleasantly spent evening when someone strongly grabbed him by the collar of his greatcoat. Turning around, the significant person looked with horror that Akaki Akakievich was holding him. The man who was sitting himself quickly threw off his greatcoat and ordered the coachman to gallop home at full speed. Since then, the ghost no longer offended the late passers-by, and the significant person became more noticeably kinder to his subordinates.

Title of the piece: Overcoat

Year of writing: 1842

Genre of the work: story

Main characters: Akaki Akakievich Bashmachkin- titular counselor, Petrovich- a tailor.

Plot

Bashmachkin is a poor official with a salary of 400 rubles a year. His responsibility is to rewrite papers. He loves work so much that he rewrites at home, and falls asleep thinking about a new working day. Entertainment in the company does not bother the hero at all. Co-workers wound Akaki Akakievich with jokes and barbs. One day it turned out that the overcoat was already worn out and let the wind through. The tailor Petrovich said that you need to sew a new one. It was expensive, 80 rubles, but the official was very happy about every stage of the master's work. It didn't work out for a long time - it was taken away on the street. Having put on the old Bashmachkin, he caught a cold and died. People saw his ghost, removing fur coats and coats from passers-by. Some recognized him as Akaki Akakievich. He took off his outer clothing and from his abuser.

Conclusion (my opinion)

This story encourages to consider all people equal and to evaluate them according to their personal qualities, and not according to their position, or place in society. Words can leave painful imprints on the heart. It is also important to enjoy the little things that surround you. And this is to appreciate your work, new clothes. By not taking events for granted, a person becomes happier.

The story "The Overcoat" is an illustration of the sad realities of bureaucratic Russia.

In one of the departments of St. Petersburg one minor official served - titular adviser Akaki Akakievich Bashmachkin. Small, short, reddish and bald. A wonderful story is described about why he was called that name. At the time of Bashmachkin's birth (March 23), strange and funny variants of names were proposed in the church calendar: Mokkia, Sessiya, Khozdazat, Trifiliy, Varakhasiy or Dula. His mother did not like a single name, so it was decided to name the child in honor of his father Akaki Akakievich.
As long as he was remembered in the service, he was always in the same place and did the same job. Co-worker officials laughed at him, did not respect him, sometimes even mocked him. But Akaki Akakievich did not pay attention. He devoted himself entirely to work - "he served with love." He carefully and scrupulously rewrote documents. He even took work at home. Bashmachkin lived and breathed work, he could not imagine himself without it. Even before going to bed, all his thoughts were about work: what will God send to rewrite tomorrow? And apart from "rewriting" for him "nothing existed."
One winter Akaki Akakievich felt that he was somehow especially cold. Examining his old overcoat, he saw that it was completely frayed on the back and shoulders. The collar of the greatcoat decreased from year to year, as its fabric was used to close defects in other parts. Taking off the old overcoat to Petrovich, a one-eyed tailor who was always not averse to a drink. From him Bashmachkin heard the verdict that the thing cannot be restored - "a thin wardrobe!" And when the tailor said that a new overcoat was needed, Akaky Akakievich's eyes were dimmed. The cost was named - "one and a half hundred rubles", and if with fur on the collar or silk lining - "and two hundred will go." Strongly upset, Bashmachkin left the tailor and wandered off to the completely opposite side from the house. He came to his senses only when the chimney sweep had stained him with soot. I decided to visit the tailor again on Sunday with a request for repair, but he was again adamant. The only thing that made me happy was that Petrovich agreed to work for eighty rubles.
Over the past years, Akaky Akakievich has accumulated some capital - forty rubles. It was necessary to get somewhere else forty to be enough for a new overcoat. He decided to economize and limit himself: not drinking tea in the evenings, not lighting candles in the evening, going to the laundry less often, walking carefully along the road so as not to wear out his soles, etc. Soon he got used to this too, he was warmed by the thought of a new, dense, firmly, "without wear" overcoat. We went with a tailor to fetch fabric: we chose a very good cloth, a calico for the lining, we bought cat fur for the collar (the marten was very expensive). Tailoring lasted two weeks, and the tailor's work cost twelve rubles.
One fine frosty day, Petrovich brought the finished product to Akaki Akakievich. It was the most "solemn" day in the life of a simple titular councilor. The tailor himself liked his work, because while Bashmachkin walked down the street to work, Petrovich gazed at the greatcoat from a distance for a long time, and then across the alley he got to the same street to look at the greatcoat from the front.
Having reached the department, Akaki Akakievich took off his overcoat, examined it carefully again and entrusted the "special supervision" to the doorman. The news quickly spread throughout the department that Bashmachkin had acquired a new overcoat. They began to congratulate him, praise him, so much so that Akaki Akakievich flushed. Then they said that it would be nice to wash the purchase, which made Bashmachkin completely confused. The assistant clerk, who, in addition, had a name day on that day, decided to seem generous and invited everyone to celebrate at his place in the evening for such an event. The fellow officials willingly accepted the invitation.
The whole day for Akaki Akakievich was filled with joy. And because of the new overcoat, and because of the reaction of colleagues, and because there will be a celebration in the evening, and therefore there will be a reason to walk in the overcoat again. Bashmachkin did not even take the documents for rewriting home, but rested a little and went to the holiday. For a long time he had not been on the street in the evenings. Everything shone, sparkled, the windows were beautiful. As we approached the house of the assistant chief, which was undoubtedly located in the elite part of the city, the streets grew brighter, and gentlemen came across more and more well-dressed and handsome.
Having reached the desired house. Akaki Akakievich entered a luxurious apartment on the second floor. In the hall there was a whole row of galoshes and a whole wall of raincoats and greatcoats. Hanging up his overcoat, Akaki Akakievich entered the room where officials drank and drank, and also played whist. Everyone accepted him with a joyful cry, then went to examine the overcoat again. But then they quickly returned to cards and food. Bashmachkin was bored in the unusual noisy company. After drinking two glasses of champagne and having supper, he glimpsed into the hallway and quietly walked out into the street. It was light even at night. Akaki Akakievich went at a trot, with each new quarter it became more deserted and deserted. The long street ran into a wide square that looked like a "terrible desert." Bashmachkin was frightened, anticipating something unkind. He decided to cross the square with his eyes closed, and when he opened them to see how far was left to the end, right in front of him were two healthy men with a mustache. One of them took Akaky Akakievich by the collar of his overcoat and said that “the overcoat is mine,” and the second threatened with his fist. As a result, the overcoat was stolen. Bashmachkin, in panic, rushed to the booth with a watchman, where the light was on, began to ask for help and say that the greatcoat had been stolen. To this the half-asleep watchman replied that he had not seen the robbers, and if he did, he thought that they were Bashmachkin's acquaintances, and why shout like that. Poor Akaki Akakievich spent that night in nightmares.
Everyone recommends that the unfortunate robbed Bashmachkin apply to different people and to different authorities: either to the warden, or to a private person, or to a significant person (the author deliberately emphasizes this position in italics). In the department, some even in such a situation did not fail to laugh at Akaki Akakievich, but, fortunately, there were more sympathizers and compassionate people. They even collected a certain amount, but, unfortunately, it did not cover the cost of the overcoat.
Akaki Akakievich first went to a private one. For a long time they do not want to let him in, and then Bashmachkin, perhaps for the first time in his life, showed character, ordering the clerks to let him through "for official business." The private, unfortunately, did not show proper participation. Instead, he began to ask strange questions like “why did I go home so late” or “did I go into some dishonest house”.
Desperate Bashmachkin decides to go directly to a significant person (further from the story it is clear that the person was male). Further, the author describes why a significant person became such (at heart - a kind person, but the rank "completely confused"), how it behaves in relation to colleagues and subordinates ("Do you know who is standing in front of you?"), and also how it tries to increase its significance. He took rigor as a basis, and considered proper fear to be the ideal mechanism of the boss-subordinate relationship. In the circle of those who are lower in rank, a significant person is afraid to seem familiar and simple, which is why he acquires a reputation as the most boring person. A significant person does not accept Akaki Akakievich for a long time, chatting with a friend for a full hour on various topics and making long pauses in the conversation, then suddenly recalls that some official is waiting for him. Bashmachkin timidly begins to talk about the theft, but a high official begins to scold him for not knowing the procedure for submitting a request. In the opinion of a significant person, the request must first go to the office, then to the clerk, then to the head of the department, then to the secretary, and only at the end to him. Then the scolding began, which consisted of asking in a threatening tone the questions "do you know and do you understand who you are saying this to?" and unreasonable reproaches for the riot "against the chiefs and higher." Frightened to death, Akaki Akakievich fainted, and a significant person reveled in it.
The unfortunate Bashmachkin did not remember how he went out into the street and wandered home. There was a strong wind and a blizzard, which is why Akaki Akakievich caught a cold ("puffed ... a toad down his throat"). There was a fever at home. The doctor said that the patient had "one and a half days" left to live, and ordered the landlady to order a pine coffin, arguing that an oak one would be expensive. Before his death, Bashmachkin began to delirium and hallucinations about the greatcoat, Petrovich's tailor and a significant person, to whom he, interspersed with obscene words, addressed "Your Excellency!"
Akaki Akakievich died without leaving a legacy. They buried him, Petersburg was left without Akaki Akakievich, as if there was no modest titular adviser at all. The most ordinary, unnoticed and unwarmed life was nevertheless illuminated by a bright event in the form of an overcoat just before the end, but nevertheless it ended tragically. In the department, Bashmachkin's place was immediately taken by a new official, who wrote the letters "more obliquely and obliquely".
But the story of Akaky Akakievich does not end there. In St. Petersburg, the ghost of an official suddenly appeared, who at the Kalinkin bridge tore off everyone's overcoat indiscriminately. Some of the officials even claimed that the ghost shook his finger at him. Further, the police began to receive a huge number of complaints about the "perfect cold" due to the "night pulling off overcoats." The police set the task of catching a dead man - "alive or dead", and even once at a security guard in Kiryushkin Lane it almost succeeded. It's a pity that snuff failed.
It is necessary to say about a significant person, more precisely about what happened to him after the departure of Akaki Akakievich. He regretted what had happened, often began to remember the little official Bashmachkin. When I found out about his death, I even felt remorse and spent the whole day in a bad mood. In the evening, a high official gathered to have fun with a lady friend, Karolina Ivanovna, with whom he was on friendly terms. Despite the presence of a family - a beautiful wife and two children - a significant person sometimes liked to take a break from the worldly and family bustle. The general got into the carriage and wrapped himself in a warm overcoat. Suddenly he felt someone grab his collar. Looking around, he was horrified to recognize Akaki Akakievich in the deathly pale man. The dead man, who smelled like a grave, began to demand that his greatcoat be returned. The general, fearing a painful seizure, took off his overcoat himself and ordered the coachman to drive home faster, and not to Karolina Ivanovna's.
It is noteworthy that after this incident, a significant person became kinder and more tolerant of his subordinates, and the ghost of Bashmachkin stopped walking around St. Petersburg. Apparently, he received exactly the overcoat he wanted.

In the department ... but it's better not to name which department. Nothing is more angry than all kinds of departments, regiments, chanceries and, in a word, all kinds of officials. Now every private person considers the whole society to be insulted in his person. They say that quite recently there was a request from a police captain, I do not remember any city in which he clearly states that state decrees are perishing and that his sacred name is pronounced decisively in vain. And as proof, he attached to the request an enormous volume of some kind of romantic essay, where every ten pages the police captain appears, in some places even completely drunk. So, in order to avoid any trouble, it is better that the department in question is called one department. So, in one department served one official; the official cannot be said to be very wonderful, short in stature, somewhat pockmarked, somewhat reddish, somewhat even blind in appearance, with a small bald spot on his forehead, with wrinkles on both sides of his cheeks and a complexion that is called hemorrhoidal ... What to do! the Petersburg climate is to blame. As for the rank (for we first of all need to declare the rank), he was what is called the eternal titular adviser, over whom, as you know, a lot of different writers have fought and sharpened, having a commendable habit of leaning on those who cannot bite ... The official's surname was Bashmachkin. Already by the very name it is clear that it once descended from a shoe; but when, at what time and how it originated from the shoe, none of this is known. Both father and grandfather, and even brother-in-law, and all completely Bashmachkins walked in boots, changing soles only three times a year. His name was Akaki Akakievich. Perhaps the reader will find it somewhat strange and sought-after, but one can assure that it was not looked for in any way, and that such circumstances happened of their own accord that it was impossible to give another name, and it happened exactly like this. Akaki Akakievich was born against the night, if his memory serves only, on March 23rd. The deceased mother, an official and a very good woman, settled down, as it should, to baptize the child. Mother was still lying on the bed opposite the door, and on her right hand stood the godfather, the most excellent man, Ivan Ivanovich Eroshkin, who served as clerk in the Senate, and the godfather, the wife of a district officer, a woman of rare virtues, Arina Semyonovna Belobryushkova. The mother was given a choice of any of three, which she wants to choose: Mokkia, Session, or to name the child in the name of the martyr Khozdazat. No, thought the deceased, the names are all like that. To please her, they unrolled the calendar elsewhere; three names came out again: Tryphilius, Dula and Varakhasius. “This is the punishment,” said the old woman, “what are all the names; I really have never heard of such. Let it be Varadat or Baruch, and then Triphilius and Varakhasy. " They turned the page and left: Pavsikakhiy and Vakhtisiy. “Well, I can see,” said the old woman, “that, apparently, his is such a fate. If so, let it be better to be called like his father. The father was Akaki, so let the son be Akaki. " This is how Akaki Akakievich came about. The child was christened, and he burst into tears and made such a grimace, as if he had a presentiment that there would be a titular councilor. So this is how it all happened. We brought this so that the reader could see for himself that this happened completely out of necessity and that it was in no way possible to give another name. When and at what time he entered the department and who identified him, no one could remember. No matter how many directors and all kinds of bosses changed, they all saw him in the same place, in the same position, in the same position, by the same official for the letter, so that later they were convinced that he, apparently, was born that way already completely ready, in a uniform and with a bald spot on his head. There was no respect for him in the department. The watchmen not only did not get up from their seats when he passed, but did not even look at him, as if a simple fly had flown through the waiting room. The chiefs dealt with him somehow coldly and despotically. Some assistant clerk would thrust papers under his nose without even saying “rewrite,” or “this is an interesting, pretty business,” or something pleasant, as is used in well-mannered services. And he took it, looking only at the paper, not looking who planted it and whether he had the right to do so. He took it and immediately got attached to write it. The young officials made fun of him and made fun of him, as far as the clerical wit was enough, they told right there in front of him various stories made up about him; about his mistress, a seventy-year old woman, they said that she beat him, asked when their wedding would be, poured pieces of paper on his head, calling it snow. But Akaky Akakievich did not answer a single word, as if no one was in front of him; it did not even have an impact on his occupations: among all these dokuqs, he did not make a single mistake in writing. Only if the joke was too unbearable, when they pushed him by the arm, interfering with his business, he said: "Leave me, why are you offending me?" And there was something strange in the words and in the voice with which they were uttered. Something so pitying was heard in him that one young man, who had recently decided, who, following the example of others, allowed himself to laugh at him, suddenly stopped, as if pierced, and since then everything seemed to have changed in front of him and seemed in a different form. Some unnatural force pushed him away from his comrades, whom he met, mistaking them for decent, secular people. And for a long time afterwards, in the midst of the most cheerful moments, he saw a low official with a bald spot on his forehead, with his penetrating words: “Leave me alone, why are you offending me? "- and in these penetrating words other words rang out:" I am your brother. " And the poor young man covered himself with his hand, and many times he shuddered afterwards in his lifetime, seeing how much inhumanness in a man, how much ferocious rudeness is hidden in refined, educated secularity, and, God! even in that person whom the world recognizes as noble and honest ... It is unlikely that where one could find a person who would live like this in his position. It is not enough to say: he served with zeal; no, he served with love. There, in this rewriting, he saw his own varied and pleasant world. Pleasure was expressed on his face; some letters he had favorites, to which if he got there, he was not himself: he laughed, and winked, and helped with his lips, so that in his face, it seemed, it was possible to read every letter that was drawn by his pen. If awards were given to him commensurate with his zeal, he, to his amazement, perhaps, would even get into state councilors; but he served, as the wits and his comrades put it, a buckle in his buttonhole and made hemorrhoids in his lower back. However, it cannot be said that there was no attention to him. One director, being a kind person and wanting to reward him for his long service, ordered to give him something more important than an ordinary copying; it was from the already completed case that he was ordered to make some kind of relation to another present place; it was only a matter of changing the title title and changing the verbs here and there from the first person to the third. This gave him such a job that he was sweating completely, rubbing his forehead and finally said: "No, better let me rewrite something." Since then, they have left him to rewrite forever. Outside of this rewriting, nothing seemed to exist for him. He did not think at all about his dress: his uniform was not green, but some kind of reddish flour color. His collar was narrow and low, so that, despite the fact that it was not long, coming out of the collar, his neck seemed unusually long, like those of those plaster kittens swinging their heads, which are worn on their heads by dozens of Russian foreigners. And there was always something stuck to his uniform: either a piece of senza, or some kind of thread; besides, he had a special skill, walking down the street, keeping up under the window at the very time when all rubbish was thrown out of him, and therefore he always carried away watermelon and melon crusts and such nonsense on his hat. Not once in his life did he pay attention to what is happening and is happening every day on the street, which, as you know, his brother, a young official, who extends so much the insight of his brisk glance, will even notice who on the other side of the sidewalk, a strap was cut off at the bottom of his trousers - which always causes a sly grin on his face. But if Akaky Akakievich looked at anything, he saw all over his clean, even handwriting lines, and only if, out of nowhere, the horse's muzzle was placed on his shoulder and blew a whole wind into his cheek with his nostrils, then he only noticed that he is not in the middle of the line, but rather in the middle of the street. Coming home, he sat down at the same hour at the table, hastily sipped his cabbage soup and ate a piece of beef with onions, not noticing their taste at all, ate all this with flies and with everything that God did not send at that time. Noticing that the stomach was beginning to swell, got up from the table, took out a jar of ink and rewrote the papers brought home. If such did not happen, he took off on purpose, for his own pleasure, a copy for himself, especially if the paper was remarkable not for the beauty of the syllable, but addressed to some new or important person. Even in those hours when the gray sky of St. Petersburg is completely extinguished and all the bureaucratic people ate and dined as best they could, in accordance with the salary received and their own whim - when everything had already rested after the departmental fiddling with feathers, running around, their own and other people's necessary occupations and everything what a restless person asks himself voluntarily, even more than necessary, - when officials rush to give up the rest of the time to enjoyment: whoever is bolder rushes to the theater; someone on the street, identifying him by examining some hats; who for the evening - spend it in compliments to some pretty girl, a star of a small bureaucratic circle; who, and this happens most often, simply goes to his brother on the fourth or third floor, in two small rooms with an entrance or kitchen and some fashionable pretensions, a lamp or other little thing that cost many donations, refusals from dinners, festivities, - in a word, even at a time when all officials are scattered around the small apartments of their friends to play assault whist, sipping tea from glasses with penny biscuits, inhaling smoke from long shafts, telling during the surrender some gossip brought in from high society, from which a Russian person can never and in no state refuse, or even when there is nothing to talk about, retelling the eternal anecdote about the commandant, to whom they came to say that the tail of the horse of the Falkonetov monument has been cut off - in a word, even when everyone is trying to have fun , - Akaki Akakievich did not indulge in any entertainment. No one could say that they had ever seen him at any evening. Having written his fill, he went to bed, smiling in advance at the thought of tomorrow: will God send something to rewrite tomorrow? This is how the peaceful life of a man proceeded, who, with four hundred salaries, knew how to be content with his lot, and would have reached, perhaps, to a ripe old age, if there had not been various disasters scattered along the path of life, not only titular, but even secret, real, court and any advisers, even those who do not give advice to anyone, do not take it themselves from anyone. There is in St. Petersburg a strong enemy of all who receive four hundred rubles a year of salary or thereabouts. This enemy is none other than our northern frost, although, incidentally, they say that he is very healthy. At nine o'clock in the morning, exactly at the hour when the streets are covered with those going to the department, he begins to give such strong and prickly clicks indiscriminately on all noses that the poor officials absolutely do not know what to do with them. At this time, when even those in high positions have a cold forehead and tears appear in their eyes, poor titular advisers are sometimes defenseless. All salvation consists in running across five or six streets in a skinny overcoat as soon as possible and then stomping your feet in the Swiss one until all the abilities and gifts for official duties, frozen on the road, have thawed out in this way. For some time Akaki Akakievich began to feel that he was somehow especially strongly baked in his back and shoulder, despite the fact that he tried to run across the legal space as soon as possible. He finally wondered if there were any sins in his greatcoat. Having examined it thoroughly at home, he discovered that in two or three places, namely on the back and on the shoulders, she had become a precise serpentine; the cloth was so worn out that it blew through, and the lining fell apart. It is necessary to know that Akaki Akakievich's overcoat also served as an object of ridicule for officials; even the noble name of the greatcoat was taken away from it and they called it the hood. In fact, she had some kind of strange device: her collar diminished more and more every year, for it served to undermine other parts of her. The sharpening did not show the skill of the tailor and turned out, as if, baggy and ugly. Seeing what was going on, Akaky Akakievich decided that the overcoat would need to be taken down to Petrovich, a tailor who lived somewhere on the fourth floor along the back staircase, who, despite his crooked eye and rippling all over his face, was quite successful in repairing officials and all other trousers and tailcoats - of course, when I was sober and did not entertain any other undertaking in my head. Of course, there shouldn't be much to say about this tailor, but since it has already been established that in the story the character of every person is completely designated, then, there is nothing to do, bring us Petrovich here. At first he was simply called Gregory and was a serf at some gentleman's; He began to be called Petrovich since he received vacation pay and began to drink quite heavily on all holidays, first on major ones, and then, indiscriminately, on all church holidays, where there was only a cross in the calendar. On this side, he was faithful to his grandfather's customs, and, arguing with his wife, he called her a worldly woman and a German. Since we have already hinted at my wife, it will be necessary to say two words about her; but, unfortunately, not much was known about her, except that Petrovich has a wife, even wears a cap, not a headscarf; but beauty, it seems, she could not boast of; at least, when meeting her, only the guards soldiers looked under her cap, blinking their mustache and emitting a special voice. Climbing the stairs leading to Petrovich, which, it must be fair, was all oiled with water, slops and penetrated through and through with that alcoholic smell that eats the eyes and, as you know, is always present on all the black staircases of Petersburg houses - climbing the stairs, Akaki Akakievich was already thinking about how much Petrovich would ask for, and mentally made a decision not to give more than two rubles. The door was open because the hostess, while cooking some kind of fish, had let in so much smoke in the kitchen that it was impossible to see even the cockroaches themselves. Akaki Akakievich walked through the kitchen, not even noticed by the hostess herself, and finally entered the room, where he saw Petrovich sitting on a wide unpainted wooden table and tucking his legs under him like a Turkish Pasha. Legs, according to the custom of the tailors sitting at work, were naked. And first of all, the thumb was striking, very well known to Akaky Akakievich, with some kind of disfigured nail, thick and strong, like a tortoise's skull. Around Petrovich's neck was a skein of silk and thread, and on his knees was some kind of rags. For about three minutes he had been threading a thread into a needle's ear, did not hit it, and therefore was very angry at the darkness and even at the very thread, muttering in an undertone: “Doesn't fit, barbarian; you left me, you rogue! " Akaky Akakievich was unpleasant that he came at the very moment when Petrovich was angry: he liked to order something to Petrovich when the latter was already somewhat under the courage, or, as his wife put it, "he was sedated, one-eyed devil." In such a state, Petrovich usually very willingly yielded and agreed, every time he even bowed and thanked. Then, it is true, the wife came, crying that her husband was drunk and therefore took it cheaply; but you used to add one dime, and the trick is in the bag. Now Petrovich was, it seemed, in a sober state, and therefore tough, intractable and eager to mess up, devil knows what prices. Akaky Akakievich realized this and was about to, as they say, backtrack, but the business was already started. Petrovich narrowed his only eye very intently at him, and Akaki Akakievich involuntarily uttered: - Hello, Petrovich! - Hello, sir, - said Petrovich and squinted his eye at the hands of Akaki Akakievich, wanting to spy out what kind of prey he was carrying. - And here I am to you, Petrovich, that ... You need to know that Akaki Akakievich expressed himself mostly prepositions, adverbs and, finally, such particles that have absolutely no meaning. If the matter was very difficult, then he even had a habit of not finishing phrases at all, so very often, starting a speech with the words: "This, really, absolutely that ..." - and then nothing happened, and he himself forgot thinking that everything has already been pronounced. - What is it? - said Petrovich and at the same time examined with his only eye his whole uniform, from the collar to the sleeves, back, folds and loops, - that everything was very familiar to him, because it was his own work. This is the custom of the tailors: this is the first thing he will do when he meets. - And I’m that one, Petrovich ... the greatcoat, the cloth ... you see, everywhere else, it’s quite strong, it’s a little dusty, and it seems as if it’s old, but it’s new, but only in one place a little of that ... on the back, and even on one shoulder it rubbed a little, but on this shoulder a little - you see, that's all. And a little work ... Petrovich took the hood, laid it out first on the table, looked at it for a long time, shook his head and reached up to the window behind a round snuffbox with a portrait of some general, which one, it is not known, because the place where the face was, was pierced with a finger and then sealed with a quadrangular a piece of paper. Sniffing the tobacco, Petrovich flung open the hood in his hands and examined it against the light and again shook his head. Then he turned it upside down and shook it again, again removed the lid with the general sealed with a piece of paper, and, dragging tobacco into his nose, closed it, hid the snuffbox and finally said: - No, you can't fix it: a thin wardrobe! Akaki Akakievich's heart skipped a beat at these words. - Why is it impossible, Petrovich? - he said in an almost pleading voice of a child, - after all, everything on the shoulders is worn out, because you have some pieces ... - Yes, the pieces can be found, the pieces will be found, - said Petrovich, - but you can't sew it on: the case is completely rotten, if you touch it with a needle, it just crawls. - Let it creep, and you immediately patch. - Yes, there is nothing to put the patches on, she has nothing to strengthen, the support is painfully great. Only glory is that broadcloth, and blow the wind, so it will scatter. - Well, yes, attach it. How so, really, that! .. “No,” said Petrovich resolutely, “nothing can be done. This is a very bad business. Better, when the cold winter time comes, make yourself an onuchek out of it, because the stocking does not warm you. This was invented by the Germans in order to take more money for themselves (Petrovich liked to stab the Germans on occasion); and the greatcoat, apparently, you will have to make a new one. At the word “new,” Akaky Akakievich's eyes became clouded, and everything in the room began to get confused in front of him. He could clearly see only one general with his face sealed with a piece of paper, who was on the lid of the Petrovich snuff-box. - How is the new one? - he said, still as if in a dream, - after all, I have no money for this either. “Yes, a new one,” Petrovich said with barbaric calmness. - Well, and if I had a new one, how would it be that ... - That is, what will it cost?- Yes. "Yes, more than three fifty odds will have to be applied," said Petrovich, and at the same time compressed his lips significantly. He was very fond of strong effects, he liked to suddenly somehow puzzle him completely and then look askance at what a puzzled one would make a face after such words. - One and a half hundred rubles for an overcoat! - cried poor Akaki Akakievich, cried out, perhaps for the first time of his kind, for he was always distinguished by the quietness of his voice. “Yes, sir,” said Petrovich, “and what the greatcoat is like. If you put a marten on the collar and put a capichon on a silk lining, it will go into two hundred. “Petrovich, please,” Akaky Akakievich said in an imploring voice, not hearing or trying to hear the words Petrovich said and all of its effects, “correct it somehow so that it will serve at least a little more. - No, it will come out: kill work and waste money, - said Petrovich, and after such words Akaki Akakievich came out completely destroyed. And Petrovich stood still for a long time after he left, his lips compressed significantly and did not get to work, being pleased that he had not dropped himself, and he had not betrayed the tailor's art either. Going out into the street, Akaki Akakievich was like in a dream. “It’s such a thing,” he said to himself, “I really didn’t think it would come out like that…” and then, after some silence, I added: “So that's how it is! finally, that's what happened, and I really couldn't even imagine that it would be that way. " This was followed by another long silence, after which he said: “So that way! that's what, certainly, in no way unexpected, that ... this would not be ... such a circumstance! " Having said this, instead of going home, he went completely in the opposite direction, without knowing it. On the way, the chimney sweep touched him with all his unclean side and painted his entire shoulder; a whole cap of lime fell on him from the top of the house under construction. He did not notice anything of this, and then, when he came across a guard, who, placing his halberd beside him, was shaking tobacco from his horn onto a calloused fist, then he just woke up a little, and that was because the guard said: “Why are you getting into the very snout? , don't you have some rubbish? " This made him look back and turn home. It was only here that he began to collect thoughts, saw his position in a clear and true form, began to talk to himself no longer abruptly, but judiciously and frankly, as with a prudent friend with whom you can talk about the most heartfelt and close. “Well, no,” said Akaki Akakievich, “now it’s impossible to interpret with Petrovich: he’s now that… wife, it seems, somehow beat him up. But I'd rather come to him on Sunday morning: after Saturday eve he will squint and sleep, so he will need to get drunk, and his wife will not give him money, and at this time I will give him a dime and that, in his hand, he will the greatcoat is more accommodating then and that ... ”So Akaki Akakievich reasoned with himself, encouraged himself and waited for the first Sunday, and seeing from afar that Petrovich’s wife was leaving the house somewhere, he went straight to him. Petrovich, as if after Saturday, was squinting with an eye, kept his head to the floor and was completely asleep; but for all that, as soon as he found out what was the matter, it was as if the devil had pushed him. "You can't," he said, "if you please order a new one." It was then that Akaki Akakievich slipped him a dime. “Thank you, sir, I will refresh myself a little for your health,” said Petrovich, “and you don't have to worry about an overcoat: it is no good for any good. I will make you a new greatcoat for glory, we will stand on that ”. Akaky Akakievich was still about the repair, but Petrovich did not hear it and said: “I’ll sew you a new one without fail, if you please rely on this, we will apply our diligence. It will be possible even the way fashion has gone: the collar will be fastened with silver paws under the applique. " It was then that Akaki Akakievich saw that it was impossible to do without a new overcoat, and his spirit completely wilted. How, in fact, for what, for what money to make it? Of course, one could partly rely on the future rewarding for the holiday, but this money has long been allocated and distributed ahead. It was necessary to get new pantaloons, to pay the shoemaker the old debt for attaching new heads to the old bootlegs, but the seamstress should have ordered three shirts and two pieces of that linen that is indecent to be named in a printed syllable - in a word, all the money should have gone completely; and even if the director were so merciful that instead of forty rubles he would have determined forty-five or fifty, then there would still be some very nonsense that would be a drop in the ocean in the overcoat's capital. Although, of course, he knew that Petrovich was in the habit of breaking suddenly, the devil knows what an exorbitant price, so that, it happened, the wife herself could not help crying out: “What are you crazy, such a fool! Another time he would never take to work, but now he was blown away by the difficult request of such a price, which he himself is not worth. " Although, of course, he knew that Petrovich would undertake to do it for eighty rubles; however, where do you get these eighty rubles? Another half could be found: half would be found; maybe even a little more; but where to get the other half? .. But first, the reader must know where the first half came from. Akaky Akakievich used to put away every ruble he wasted in a small box, locked with a key, with a hole cut in the lid for throwing money into it. After every six months, he audited the accumulated copper sum and replaced it with small silver. So he continued for a long time, and thus, over the course of several years, the accumulated amount turned out to be more than forty rubles. So, half was in the hands; but where to get the other half? Where can I get the other forty rubles? Akaky Akakievich thought, thought and decided that it would be necessary to reduce ordinary costs, although, at least for one year: to banish the use of tea in the evenings, not to light candles in the evenings, and if something needs to be done, go to the hostess’s room and work by her candle; walking the streets, step as lightly and carefully as possible, on stones and slabs, almost on tiptoe, so as not to wear out the soles quickly; As seldom as possible, give the laundry to the washerwoman to wash the laundry, and so that it does not curl up, every time you come home, throw it off and remain in only one demicotone dressing gown, very old and sparing even by the time itself. It must be told the truth that at first it was somewhat difficult for him to get used to such restrictions, but then he somehow got used to it and went smoothly; even he was completely accustomed to starving in the evenings; but on the other hand, he ate spiritually, carrying in his thoughts the eternal idea of ​​a future greatcoat. From that time on, as if his very existence had become somehow more complete, as if he had married, as if some other person was present with him, as if he was not alone, but some pleasant friend of life agreed to pass with him life's journey - and this friend was none other than the same overcoat on thick cotton wool, on a strong lining without wear. He became somehow more alive, even stronger in character, like a man who has already determined and set a goal for himself. From his face and from his actions, doubt, indecision disappeared of itself - in a word, all hesitant and indefinite features. Fire sometimes showed in his eyes, even the most daring and courageous thoughts flashed in his head: shouldn't he put a marten on his collar? Thinking about it almost made him distracted. Once, while rewriting the paper, he almost even made a mistake, so he almost screamed out loud "wow!" and crossed himself. During each month, at least once he paid a visit to Petrovich to talk about an overcoat, where it would be better to buy cloth, and what color, and at what price, and although somewhat anxious, he always returned home contentedly, thinking that at last the time would come. when all this is bought and when the overcoat is done. Things went even faster than he expected. Against all expectations, the director appointed Akaky Akakievich not forty or forty-five, but as much as sixty rubles; Whether he had a presentiment that Akaky Akakievich needed an overcoat, or it happened of course, but only through this he found himself an extra twenty rubles. This circumstance hastened the course of the matter. Another two or three months of slight starvation - and Akaki Akakievich had exactly about eighty rubles. His heart, generally quite calm, began to beat. On the first day he went with Petrovich to the shops. We bought very good cloth - and no wonder, because they thought about it half a year earlier and rarely went into the shops for a month to apply to prices; but Petrovich himself said that there was no better cloth. They chose a calico for the lining, but such a solid and dense one, which, according to Petrovich, was even better than silk and even looked casist and glossy. They did not buy martens, because there was, for sure, a road; and instead of her they chose a cat, the best one could find in the shop, a cat that from afar could always be mistaken for a marten. Petrovich fiddled with the greatcoat for only two weeks, because there was a lot of quilting, otherwise it would have been ready earlier. For the work, Petrovich took twelve rubles - nothing less was possible: everything was decisively sewn on silk, with a double fine seam, and Petrovich then went along every seam with his own teeth, displacing various figures with them. It was ... it is difficult to say on what day, but probably the most solemn day in Akaky Akakievich's life, when Petrovich finally brought his greatcoat. He brought it in in the morning, just before the time it was necessary to go to the department. An overcoat would never have come in handy at another time, because the frosts were already getting pretty strong and, it seemed, threatened to intensify even more. Petrovich came with an overcoat, as a good tailor should. His face seemed to have such a significant expression that Akaky Akakievich had never seen before. It seemed that he fully felt that he had done a great job and that he suddenly showed in himself an abyss separating the tailors, who substitute only linings and transport, from those who sew anew. He took the greatcoat out of the handkerchief in which he had brought it; The handkerchief had just been from the washerwoman, he then folded it up and put it in his pocket for use. Taking out his greatcoat, he looked very proudly and, holding it in both hands, threw it very deftly over the shoulders of Akaki Akakievich; then he pulled and restrained her from behind with his hand down; then he draped Akaki Akakievich with it a little wide open. Akaky Akakievich, like a man of years, wanted to try in the sleeves; Petrovich helped to put it on the sleeves - it turned out that it was good in the sleeves too. In a word, it turned out that the overcoat was perfect and just right. Petrovich did not miss to say on this occasion that he was so only because he lived without a sign on a small street and, moreover, had known Akaky Akakievich for a long time, that is why he took it so cheaply; and on Nevsky Prospect he would have been charged seventy-five rubles for work alone. Akaki Akakievich did not want to talk about this with Petrovich, and he was afraid of all the strong sums with which Petrovich liked to throw dust. He paid him, thanked him, and immediately went out in a new overcoat to the department. Petrovich went out after him and, remaining on the street, looked for a long time at the overcoat from a distance and then deliberately walked to the side, so that, having skirted the crooked alley, he could run back into the street and look again at his overcoat from the other side, that is, right in the face. ... Meanwhile, Akaki Akakievich walked in the most festive disposition of all his senses. He felt every moment of the minute that his new greatcoat was on his shoulders, and several times he even smiled with inner pleasure. Indeed, there are two benefits: one that is warm and the other that is good. He did not notice the road at all and suddenly found himself in the department; in the Swiss, he threw off his overcoat, examined it all around and entrusted the doorman with special supervision. It is not known how everyone in the department suddenly learned that Akaky Akakievich had a new overcoat and that the hood no longer exists. All at the same moment ran out to the Swiss to look at Akaki Akakievich's new overcoat. They began to congratulate him, to greet him, so that at first he only smiled, and then he even felt ashamed. When everyone, proceeding to him, began to say that it was necessary to inject a new overcoat and that at least he should give them all the evening, Akaki Akakievich was completely lost, did not know what to do, what it was to answer and how to excuse himself. A few minutes later he, blushing all over, began to assure quite innocently that this was not a new overcoat at all, that it was so, that it was an old overcoat. Finally, one of the officials, some even assistant to the clerk, probably to show that he is not at all proud and knows even the lowest of himself, said: tea: I, as if on purpose, have a birthday today. " The officials, naturally, immediately congratulated the assistant clerk and eagerly accepted the offer. Akaky Akakievich was about to make excuses, but everyone began to say that it was impolite, that it was just shame and disgrace, and he certainly could not refuse. However, later it became pleasant to him when he remembered that he would have the opportunity to walk even in the evening in a new greatcoat. This whole day was for Akaki Akakievich exactly the biggest solemn holiday. He returned home in the happiest frame of mind, threw off his greatcoat and hung it carefully on the wall, admiring once more the cloth and lining, and then deliberately pulled out, for comparison, his old hood, which had completely crawled out. He looked at him, and even laughed himself: there was such a distant difference! And for a long time later at dinner he kept grinning as soon as the position in which the hood was located came to his mind. He dined merrily, and after dinner he didn’t write anything, no papers, and so he sat on the bed a little bit until it got dark. Then, without delaying business, he dressed, put on an overcoat on his shoulders and went out into the street. Where exactly the inviting official lived, unfortunately, we cannot say: our memory is beginning to change a lot, and everything that is in St. Petersburg, all the streets and houses have merged and mixed so in my head that it is very difficult to get something out of there in a decent form ... Be that as it may, but it is at least true that the official lived in the best part of the city - therefore, not very close to Akaki Akakievich. First, Akaky Akakievich had to go through some deserted streets with meager lighting, but as they approached the official's apartment, the streets became livelier, more populated and more illuminated. Pedestrians began to flicker more often, beautifully dressed ladies began to come across, men came across beaver collars, less often there were sledges with their wooden lattice sleds, studded with gilded nails - on the contrary, everyone came across reckless men in crimson velvet hats, with lacquered blankets, with bears , and carriages with trestled goats flew past the street, squealing wheels in the snow. Akaki Akakievich looked at all this as if it were news. For several years he had not gone out in the evenings. I stopped with curiosity in front of a lighted shop window to look at a picture where a beautiful woman was depicted, who had thrown off her shoe, thus exposing her entire leg, which was not bad; and behind her, from the door of another room, a man with sideburns and a beautiful goatee under his lip stuck his head out. Akaki Akakievich shook his head and grinned, and then went his own way. Why did he chuckle, whether because he met a thing that was not at all familiar, but about which, nevertheless, everyone still has some flair, or he thought, like many other officials, the following: “Well, these Frenchmen! needless to say, if they want something that, it’s certainly that ... ”Or maybe he didn’t even think about that - after all, you cannot get into a person’s soul and find out everything that he or she thinks. Finally he reached the house in which the assistant clerk was quartered. The assistant clerk lived on a big foot: a lantern was shining on the stairs, the apartment was on the second floor. Entering the hall, Akaki Akakievich saw on the floor a whole row of galoshes. Between them, in the middle of the room, stood a samovar, rustling and emitting steam in clubs. All greatcoats and raincoats hung on the walls, between which some even had beaver collars or velvet cuffs. There was a noise and chatter behind the wall, which suddenly became clear and resonant when the door opened and a footman came out with a tray laden with empty glasses, a cream jug, and a basket of rusks. It is evident that the officials have already gathered for a long time and drank the first glass of tea. Akaky Akakievich, having hung up his greatcoat himself, entered the room, and at one time candles, officials, pipes, tables for cards flashed in front of him, and vaguely struck his ear by the fluent conversation that was rising from all sides and the noise of the chairs being moved. He stopped quite awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking and trying to think of what to do. But they had already noticed him, received him with a shout, and everyone went to the hall at the same hour and again examined his greatcoat. Although Akaki Akakievich was somewhat embarrassed, being a sincere man, he could not help rejoicing, seeing how everyone praised his greatcoat. Then, of course, everyone threw both him and his greatcoat and turned, as usual, to the tables assigned for the whist. All this: noise, talk and a crowd of people - all this was somehow wonderful to Akaky Akakievich. He simply did not know what to do, where to put his arms, legs and his whole figure; at last he sat down with the players, looked at the cards, peered into the faces of both, and after a while began to yawn, to feel that he was bored, all the more since the time had already come at which, as usual, he went to bed. He wanted to say goodbye to the owner, but they didn’t let him in, saying that he must definitely drink a glass of champagne in honor of the new thing. An hour later, supper was served, consisting of vinaigrette, cold veal, pâté, pastry pies, and champagne. Akaki Akakievich was forced to drink two glasses, whose ambassador he felt that the room had become more cheerful, but he could not forget that it was already twelve o'clock and that it was high time to go home. In order not to somehow try to restrain the owner, he quietly left the room, found an overcoat in the hallway, which he saw, not without regret, lying on the floor, shook it off, took off any fluff from it, put it on his shoulders and went down the stairs to the street. It was still light outside. Some petty shops, these permanent clubs of courtyards and all kinds of people, were unlocked, while others, which were locked, showed, however, a long stream of light into the entire door crack, which meant that they were not yet devoid of society and, probably, courtyards the maids or servants are still finishing their talk and talk, plunging their masters into complete bewilderment about their whereabouts. Akaki Akakievich walked in a cheerful mood, he even ran up suddenly, for some unknown reason, after some lady who, like lightning, passed by and whose every part of her body was filled with extraordinary movement. But, nevertheless, he immediately stopped and walked again, as before, very quietly, marveling even at the lynx that had come from nowhere. Soon those deserted streets stretched out in front of him, which even during the day were not so cheerful, and even more so in the evening. Now they became even duller and more solitary: the flashlights began to flicker less often - the oil, as you can see, was already released less; went wooden houses, fences; no push notifications anywhere; only one snow sparkled along the streets, and the low sleepy shacks, with closed shutters, were sadly black. He approached the place where the street was cut by an endless square with houses barely visible on the other side, which looked like a terrible desert. In the distance, God knows where, a light flickered in some kind of booth, which seemed to be standing at the end of the world. Akaky Akakievich's gaiety somehow diminished considerably here. He entered the square not without some involuntary fear, as if his heart had a presentiment of something unkind. He looked back and around: the exact sea around him. “No, it’s better not to look,” he thought and walked, closing his eyes, and when he opened them to find out if the end of the square was near, he suddenly saw that there were some people with mustaches standing in front of him almost in front of him. he could not even discern this. His eyes dimmed and his chest throbbed. "But the greatcoat is mine!" - said one of them in a thunderous voice, grabbing his collar. Akaki Akakievich was about to shout "guard" when another put a fist the size of an official’s head to his mouth, saying: "But just shout!" Akaky Akakievich only felt how they took off his greatcoat, gave him a knee kick, and he fell on his back in the snow and felt nothing more. After a few minutes he came to his senses and got to his feet, but no one was there. He felt that it was cold in the field and there was no greatcoat, began to shout, but the voice, it seemed, did not even think to reach the ends of the square. Desperate, not getting tired of shouting, he started to run across the square straight to the booth, next to which stood a watchman and, leaning on his halberd, looked, it seems, with curiosity, wanting to know what the hell was a man running to him from afar and shouting. Akaky Akakievich, running up to him, began to shout in a breathless voice that he was asleep and was not looking at anything, did not see how a man was being robbed. The clerk replied that he did not see anything, that he saw how two people stopped him in the middle of the square, but he thought that they were his friend; and that let him, instead of vainly scolding, go down to the overseer tomorrow, so the overseer will find out who took the greatcoat. Akaki Akakievich ran home in complete disarray: the hair, which was still found in small quantities at his temples and the back of his head, was completely disheveled; the side and chest and all the trousers were covered in snow. The old woman, the hostess of his apartment, hearing a terrible knock on the door, jumped hastily out of bed and, with a shoe on nothing but yoga, ran to open the door, holding her shirt on her chest, out of modesty, with her hand; but, opening the door, she stepped back, seeing Akaki Akakievich in this form. When he told what was the matter, she threw up her hands and said that you need to go straight to the private, that the quarter will cheat, promise and begin to drive; but it is best to go straight to the private, that he is even familiar to her, because Anna, a chukhonka who used to serve as her cook, has now decided to go to the private as a nanny, that she often sees him as he drives by their house, and that he also goes to church every Sunday, prays, and at the same time looks at everyone cheerfully, and that, therefore, apparently, there must be a kind person. Having heard such a decision, Akaky Akakievich wandered sadly into his room, and how he spent the night there, it is left to judge whoever can at all imagine the situation of the other. Early in the morning he went to the private; but they said that he was asleep; he came at ten - they said again: asleep; he came at eleven o'clock - they said: yes there is no private house; he was at lunchtime - but the clerk in the hallway did not want to let him in, and they wanted to find out for sure what business and what need had led and what had happened. So finally Akaky Akakievich, once in his life, wanted to show his character and said flatly that he needed to personally see the most private, that they did not dare to prevent him from admitting that he came from the department for state business, and that is how he will complain about them, so that's when they will see. The clerks dared not say anything against this, and one of them went to summon a private. The private person took in an extremely strange way the story of the robbery of the greatcoat. Instead of paying attention to the main point of the case, he began to question Akaky Akakievich: why did he come back so late, and did he come in and was not in some dishonest house, so that Akaki Akakievich was completely embarrassed and left him, he didn’t himself knowing whether the case of the greatcoat will take the proper course or not. All this day he was not in the presence (the only case in his life). The next day he appeared all pale and in his old hood, which had become even more deplorable. The story of the robbery of the greatcoat, despite the fact that there were such officials who did not even let them laugh at Akaki Akakievich, however, many touched. They decided to do a joint for him right away, but they collected the most trifle, because the officials had already spent a lot, subscribing to the director's portrait and to one of some books, at the suggestion of the head of the department, who was a friend of the writer, - so, the amount turned out to be the most idle. Someone, driven by compassion, decided to at least help Akaky Akakievich good advice, having told him not to go to the quarter, because although it may happen that the quarter, wishing to win the approval of the authorities, will somehow find an overcoat, the overcoat will nevertheless remain with the police if he does not provide legal evidence that she belongs to him; and it is best that he turns to one significant person what significant person, by writing off and talking with whoever it should be, it can make things go more successfully. Nothing to do, Akaki Akakievich decided to go to significant person. What exactly and what was the position significant person, this remains unknown to this day. You need to know that one significant person recently became a significant person, and until that time he was an insignificant person. However, even now his place was not considered significant in comparison with others, even more significant. But there is always a circle of people for whom the insignificant in the eyes of others is already significant. However, he tried to enhance his significance by many other means, namely: he made sure that lower officials would meet him on the stairs, when he came to office; so that no one dared to appear directly to him, but so that everything would go on in the strictest order: the collegiate registrar would report to the provincial secretary, the provincial secretary - to the titular secretary or whatever, and so that it would be up to him. So in holy Russia everything is infected with imitation, everyone teases and reproaches his boss. They even say that some titular councilor, when they made him the ruler of some separate small chancellery, immediately fenced off a special room for himself, calling it the "presence room" by the handle of the door and opened it to anyone who came, although an ordinary writing desk could stare at the “presence room”. Receptions and customs significant person were solid and dignified, but not polysyllabic. The main foundation of his system was rigor. "Severity, severity, and - severity," he usually used to say, and at the last word he usually looked very significantly in the face of the one to whom he was speaking. Although, however, there was no reason for this, because a dozen officials who made up the entire government mechanism of the chancellery were already in proper fear; Seeing him from afar, he left the case and waited, standing in the hood, while the boss walked across the room. His ordinary conversation with the lower ones responded with severity and consisted of almost three phrases: “How dare you? Do you know who you are talking to? Do you understand who is standing in front of you? " However, he was a kind person at heart, good with his comrades, helpful, but the rank of general completely confused him. Having received the rank of general, he somehow got confused, fought out of the way and did not know at all what to do. If he happened to be with his peers, he was still a good person, a very decent person, in many respects not even a stupid person; but as soon as he happened to be in a society where there were people at least one rank lower than him, he was just out of hand there: he was silent, and his position aroused pity, especially since he himself even felt that he could have spent the time incomparably better ... Sometimes one could see in his eyes a strong desire to join some interesting conversation and circle, but the thought stopped him: wouldn't this be too much on his part, would it be familiar, and would he lose his importance through this? And as a result of such reasoning, he remained forever in the same silent state, uttering only occasionally some monosyllabic sounds, and thus acquired the title of the most boring person. To such and such significant person our Akaki Akakievich appeared, and appeared at the most unfavorable time, very inappropriate for himself, although, incidentally, by the way for a significant person. A significant person was in his office and got into conversation very, very merrily with one old acquaintance and childhood friend who had recently arrived, whom he had not seen for several years. At this time, they reported to him that some Bashmachkin had come. He asked abruptly: "Who is this?" They answered him: "Some official." - "A! can wait, now is not the time, ”said a significant person. Here it must be said that a significant person completely lied: he had time, they had already talked about everything with a friend for a long time and for a long time shifted the conversation with very long silences, only slightly patting each other on the thigh and saying: "That's it, Ivan Abramovich!" - "That way, Stepan Varlamovich!" But for all that, however, he told the official to wait in order to show his friend, a man who had not served for a long time and who had healed at home in the village, how long the officials were waiting in his front hall. Finally, after talking, and even more silently enough and having smoked a cigar in very calm reclining chairs, he finally seemed to suddenly remember and said to the secretary, who had stopped at the door with the papers for a report: “Yes, there seems to be an official standing there; tell him he can come in. " Seeing the humble look of Akaki Akakievich and his old uniform, he suddenly turned to him and said: "What do you want?" - in a voice abrupt and firm, which he had deliberately studied in advance in his room, in solitude and in front of a mirror, even a week before he received his current position and the rank of general. Akaky Akakievich had already felt the proper shyness in advance, was somewhat embarrassed and, as he could, as much as the freedom of language could allow him, explained, even more often than at other times, particles of “that” that the greatcoat was a completely new one, and was now robbed by an inhuman image, and that he turns to him, so that by his petition somehow he would write off the master chief of police or someone else and find the greatcoat. The general, for some unknown reason, thought this treatment was familiar. “Why, my dear sir,” he continued abruptly, “you don’t know the order? where did you go? don't know how things are going? You should have submitted a request to the office about this before; she would have gone to the clerk, to the head of the department, then it would have been handed over to the secretary, and the secretary would have delivered it to me ... - But, Your Excellency, - said Akaki Akakievich, trying to collect all the small handful of presence of mind that was only in him, and at the same time feeling that he was sweating in a terrible way, - I dared to bother your Excellency because the secretaries of that. .. unreliable people ... - What, what, what? Said a significant person. - Where did you get this spirit from? Where did you get such thoughts from? what a riot that has spread among young people against bosses and superiors! A significant person, it seems, did not notice that Akaky Akakievich was already fifty years old. Therefore, if he could call himself a young man, it would only be relatively, that is, in relation to someone who was already seventy years old. - Do you know who you are saying this to? do you understand who is in front of you? do you understand it, do you understand it? I'm asking you. Then he stamped his foot, raising his voice to such a strong note that not even Akaky Akakievich would have felt scared. Akaky Akakievich was so dead, staggered, shook his whole body and could not stand in any way: if the watchmen hadn’t come running up to support him, he would have flopped to the floor; he was carried out almost motionless. A significant person, pleased that the effect surpassed even expectation, and completely intoxicated with the thought that his word could even deprive a person of his feelings, glanced sideways at his friend to find out how he was looking at it, and not without pleasure saw that his friend was in the most uncertain state and even began to feel fear on his own side. How he came down the stairs, how he went out into the street, Akaky Akakievich did not remember anything of this. He did not hear any hands or feet. In his life, he had not yet been so strongly reprimanded by a general, and even by a stranger. He walked along the blizzard that whistled in the streets, his mouth open, knocking off the sidewalks; the wind, according to St. Petersburg custom, blew on him from all four directions, from all the alleys. Instantly a toad was blown down his throat, and he got home, unable to say a single word; all swollen and went to bed. The proper scolding is sometimes so strong! The next day, he was found to have a strong fever. Thanks to the generous assistance of the Petersburg climate, the disease went faster than could be expected, and when the doctor appeared, he felt his pulse and could do nothing but prescribe a poultice, only so that the patient would not be left without the beneficent help of medicine; however, he immediately announced to him an indispensable kaput after a day and a half. Then he turned to the hostess and said: "And you, mother, do not waste your time, order him now a pine coffin, because an oak one will be dear to him." Whether Akaki Akakievich heard these words that were fatal for him, and if he did hear whether they had an amazing effect on him, whether he regretted his miserable life - none of this is known, because he was always delirious and feverish. Phenomena, one stranger than the other, seemed to him incessantly: he saw Petrovich and ordered him to make an overcoat with some kind of traps for the thieves, who seemed to him constantly under the bed, and he constantly urged the hostess to pull one of the thieves from him even from under the covers; then he asked why his old hood was hanging in front of him, that he had a new greatcoat; it seemed to him that he was standing in front of the general, listening to the proper scolding, and saying: "Sorry, your excellency!" - then, finally, he even blasphemed, uttering the most terrible words, so that the old mistress even baptized herself, having never heard anything like it from him, especially since these words followed immediately the word "Your Excellency." Then he spoke complete nonsense, so that nothing could be understood; one could only see that disorderly words and thoughts were tossing and turning about the same greatcoat. Finally poor Akaki Akakievich gave up his ghost. Neither the room nor his things were sealed, because, firstly, there were no heirs, and secondly, there was very little inheritance, namely: a bunch of goose feathers, a queen of white government paper, three pairs of socks, two or three buttons, detached from the trousers, and the hood already known to the reader. Whoever got it all, God knows: I confess that the one telling this story was not even interested in this. Akaki Akakievich was taken away and buried. And Petersburg was left without Akaki Akakievich, as if he had never been there. A creature disappeared and disappeared, not protected by anyone, not dear to anyone, not interesting to anyone, not even attracting the attention of a natural observer, who would not let an ordinary fly be pinned on a pin and examined under a microscope; a creature who obediently endured clerical ridicule and without any extraordinary deed went down to the grave, but for whom nevertheless, although just before the very end of his life, a bright guest in the form of an overcoat flashed, revived for a moment a poor life, and on whom misfortune also fell intolerable afterwards how it fell upon the kings and rulers of the world ... Several days after his death, a watchman was sent to his apartment from the department, with the order to appear immediately: the chief demanded; but the watchman had to return with nothing, giving a report that he could no longer come, and the request "why?" expressed himself in the words: "Yes, so, he died, the fourth day he was buried." Thus, the department learned about the death of Akaki Akakievich, and the next day a new official was sitting in his place, much taller and exposing the letters in a not so straight handwriting, but much more obliquely and slantingly. But who could have imagined that there is still not everything about Akaki Akakievich, that he was destined to live noisily for several days after his death, as if as a reward for a life that had not been noticed by anyone. But it so happened, and our poor story unexpectedly takes a fantastic ending. Rumors suddenly spread through St. Petersburg that at Kalinkin Bridge and far away at night a dead man began to appear in the form of an official looking for some kind of stolen greatcoat and, under the guise of a stolen greatcoat, ripping off all shoulders, without disassembling rank and rank, all kinds of greatcoats: on cats, on beavers, on cotton wool, raccoons, foxes, bear coats - in a word, all kinds of furs and skins that people have come up with to cover their own. One of the department officials saw the dead man with his own eyes and immediately recognized him as Akaki Akakievich; but this instilled in him such fear that he rushed to run as fast as he could and therefore could not get a good look, but only saw how he shook his finger at him from afar. Complaints came incessantly from all sides that the backs and shoulders, even if only the titular ones, or even the privy councilors themselves, were susceptible to a complete cold due to the night pulling off their greatcoats. The police issued an order to catch the dead man at all costs, dead or alive, and punish him, as an example in another, in the most cruel way, and in that they almost did not even have time. It was a security guard from some block in Kiryushkin Lane who was already completely dead by the gate at the very scene of the crime, in an attempt to pull off the frieze overcoat from some retired musician who was whistling at one time on the flute. Grabbing him by the collar, he called out with his shout two other comrades, whom he instructed to hold him, and he himself climbed only for one minute by the boot in order to pull out a tavlinka with tobacco from there, to refresh his frozen nose six times for a while; but the tobacco, it is true, was of a kind that even a dead man could not bear. No sooner had the worker, covering his right nostril with his finger, pulling his left handful, when the dead man sneezed so hard that he completely splashed all three of them in their eyes. While they raised their fists to wipe them, the corpse and the trail disappeared, so that they did not even know whether he was, for sure, in their hands. From that time on, the staff got such a fear of the dead that they even feared grabbing the living, and only shouted from afar: "Hey, you, go your own way!" - and the dead official began to appear even beyond the Kalinkin Bridge, instilling considerable fear in all timid people. But we, nevertheless, completely left one significant person, which, in reality, was almost the cause of a fantastic direction, however, a completely true story. Above all, the duty of justice requires saying that one significant person Soon after the departure of the poor, puffed-up Akaki Akakievich, he felt something like regret. Compassion was no stranger to him; many good movements were available to his heart, despite the fact that rank very often prevented them from being revealed. As soon as a visiting friend left his office, he even thought about poor Akaki Akakievich. And from that time on, almost every day he saw the pale Akaky Akakievich, unable to withstand the official reprimands. The thought of him disturbed him to such an extent that a week later he even decided to send an official to him to find out what he was and how and how could there really be something to help him; and when it was reported to him that Akaki Akakievich had died suddenly in a fever, he remained even amazed, heard reproaches of his conscience and was out of sorts all day. Wanting to have some fun and forget the unpleasant impression, he went for an evening to one of his friends, with whom he found a decent company, and best of all - everyone there was of almost the same rank, so that he could not be connected by anything. ... This had an amazing effect on his spiritual disposition. He turned around, became pleasant in conversation, amiable - in a word, he spent the evening very pleasantly. At supper he drank two glasses of champagne — a remedy, as is well known, that works well in the discourse of gaiety. The champagne informed him of his disposition for various emergencies, namely: he decided not to go home yet, but to call in to a lady he knew, Karolina Ivanovna, a lady, it seems, of German descent, to whom he felt a completely friendly relationship. It must be said that the significant person was already an elderly man, a good spouse, a respectable father of a family. Two sons, one of whom was already serving in the office, and a pretty sixteen-year-old daughter with a slightly arched but pretty nose came every day to kiss his hand, saying: “bonjour, papa”. His wife, still a fresh woman and not even at all bad, let him first kiss her hand and then, turning it over to the other side, kissed his hand. But a significant person, however, completely satisfied with domestic family affections, found it decent to have for friendly relations a friend in another part of town. This friend was no better or younger than his wife; but such tasks exist in the world, and it is not our business to judge them. So, a significant person came down the stairs, got into the sleigh and said to the coachman: "To Karolina Ivanovna," while he himself, wrapped up very luxuriously in a warm greatcoat, remained in that pleasant position, which could not be better for a Russian person, that is, when you yourself do not think about anything, but meanwhile thoughts themselves creep into your head, one more pleasant than the other, without even giving the trouble of chasing them and looking for them. Full of pleasure, he faintly recalled all the cheerful places of the evening spent, all the words that made the small circle laugh; he even repeated many of them in an undertone and found that they were all as funny as before, and therefore it was not surprising that he himself laughed heartily. Occasionally, however, a gusty wind interfered with him, which, suddenly snatching out from God knows where and for what reason, cut him in the face, throwing pieces of snow there, knocking like a sail, a greatcoat collar, or suddenly throwing it at him with unnatural force. on the head and thus delivering eternal troubles to get out of it. Suddenly he felt a significant face that someone had grabbed him very tightly by the collar. Turning around, he noticed a man of small stature, in an old shabby uniform, and, not without horror, recognized him as Akaki Akakievich. The official's face was as pale as snow and looked like a perfect corpse. But the horror of the significant person surpassed all boundaries when he saw that the dead man's mouth was twisted and, smelling terribly at him of the grave, uttered such speeches: “Ah! so here you are at last! Finally I caught you by the collar! your greatcoat is what I need! did not bother about mine, and even scolded, - now give yours! " Poor significant person nearly died. No matter how typical he was in the chancellery and in general in front of the lower ones, and although, looking at one courageous appearance of him and his figure, everyone said: "Wow, what a character!" - but here he, like very many who have a heroic appearance, felt such fear that, not without reason, he even began to fear about some kind of painful seizure. He himself even took off his greatcoat as soon as possible and shouted to the coachman in a voice that was not his own: "I went home with all my might!" The coachman, hearing a voice that is usually pronounced in decisive moments and is even accompanied by something much more real, buried his head in his shoulders, just in case, swung his whip and rushed like an arrow. At about six minutes or so, a significant person was already at the entrance of his house. Pale, frightened and without an overcoat, instead of visiting Karolina Ivanovna, he came to his place, somehow made his way to his room and spent the night in a very messy, so that the next morning at tea his daughter told him bluntly: “You are today quite pale, dad. " But dad was silent and not a word to anyone about what happened to him, and where he was, and where he wanted to go. This incident made a strong impression on him. He even began to say to his subordinates much less often: “How dare you, do you understand who is in front of you?”; if he did, it was not before, as having heard first what was the matter. But it is even more remarkable that since that time the appearance of a dead official has completely stopped: apparently, the general's greatcoat fell on his shoulders completely; at least, there were no longer such cases where the overcoat was pulled off anyone. However, many active and caring people did not want to calm down in any way and said that a dead official was still showing up in the far parts of the city. And indeed, one of the Kolomna security workers saw with his own eyes, as it seemed from behind one house a ghost; but, being somewhat powerless by nature, so that once an ordinary adult pig, rushing from some private house, knocked him down, to the great laughter of the cabbies standing around, from whom he demanded for such a mockery for a penny on tobacco - so, being powerless, he did not dare to stop him, and so he followed him in the dark until finally the ghost suddenly looked around and, stopping, asked: "What do you want?" - and showed such a fist, which you will not find in the living. The attendant said: “Nothing,” and he turned back the same hour. The ghost, however, was already much taller, wore an enormous mustache and, directing steps, as it seemed, to the Obukhov Bridge, disappeared completely into the darkness of the night.

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