BUT. BUT. Lopuhinu (17 June 1840 g. From Stavropol to Moscow)

ABOUT, cute Alexis!
Tomorrow I go to the current squad, the left flank, Chechnya to take the prophet Shamil,1 whom, I hope, I will not take, and if I will take, I will try to send to you for sending. This rascal is this prophet! You are welcome, Drop the ego Aspelinda; they are there in Chechnya do not know the Indian roosters, So, maybe, it scare him. I'm here, Stavropol, already a week and live with Count Lambert,2 which also goes to the expedition and who is longing for the Countess Zubova,3 what I'm asking her to humbly bring. And so we both sigh, kishochki that our overly filled with air, why different sounds nice place ... I'm here from the heat so weak, that barely hold a pen. Dear I stopped by in Cherkasy to General Khomutov and lived with him for three days, and each day was in the theater. What a featr! This should tell: look at the scene - and you do not see anything, For the nose are tallow candles, from which burst eye; look back - you can not see anything, because the dark; looking to the right - you can not see anything, because there is nothing; look to the left - and you see in the box of Police; Orchestra is made up of four clarinets, two basses and a violin, which I saw himself Kapellmeister, and the conductor is remarkable, that the deaf, and when to start or stop, the first clarinet pulls his coat-tails, bass and beats time with a bow over his shoulder. Time, by personal hatred, it sufficed him so bow, that he turned around and wanted to put a violin in his, but at that moment clarinet pulled him by the coat-tails, and the conductor fell back his head directly into the drum, and broke the skin; but I jumped in excitement and wanted to continue the fight and what! Oh God! On his head instead of drum sticks shako. The audience was delighted, drop the curtain, and the orchestra was sent to the town hall jail. In continuation of this fun I've been waiting all, What will happen? – Так-то, my dear Alyosha! – Но здесь, Stavropol, no such pleasures; but terribly hot. probably, my letter will find you in Sokolniki. By the way, goodbye: I'm terribly tired and weak. Kiss me handle Varvara Alexandrovna and be trustworthy. Very tired ... It's hot ... Phew! –

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Mikhail Lermontov
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