Fat And Thin

Anton Chekhov

Two friends -- one a fat man and the other a thin man -- met at the Nikolaevsky station. The

fat man had just dined in the station and his greasy lips shone like ripe cherries. He smelt of

sherry and fleur d'orange. The thin man had just slipped out of the train and was laden with

portmanteaus, bundles, and bandboxes. He smelt of ham and coffee grounds. A thin woman

with a long chin, his wife, and a tall schoolboy with one eye screwed up came into view

behind his back.

"Porfiry," cried the fat man on seeing the thin man. "Is it you? My dear fellow! How many

summers, how many winters!"

a dandy! Good gracious me! Well, and how are you? Made your fortune? Married? I am

married as you see. . . . This is my wife Luise, her maiden name was Vantsenbach . . . of the

Lutheran persuasion. . . . And this is my son Nafanail, a schoolboy in the third class. This is

the friend of my childhood, Nafanya. We were boys at school together!"

Nafanail thought a little and took off his cap.

"We were boys at school together," the thin man went on. "Do you remember how they

used to tease you? You were nicknamed Herostratus because you burned a hole in a

schoolbook with a cigarette, and I was nicknamed Ephialtes because I was fond of telling

tales. Ho--ho! . . . we were children! . . . Don't be shy, Nafanya. Go nearer to him. And this

is my wife, her maiden name was Vantsenbach, of the Lutheran persuasion. . . ."

them for a rouble each. If any one takes ten or more I make a reduction of course. We get

along somehow. I served as a clerk, you know, and now I have been transferred here as a

head clerk in the same department. I am going to serve here. And what about you? I bet you

are a civil councillor by now? Eh?"

"No dear boy, go higher than that," said the fat man. "I have risen to privy councillor

already . . . I have two stars."

The thin man turned pale and rigid all at once, but soon his face twisted in all directions in

the broadest smile; it seemed as though sparks were flashing from his face and eyes. He

squirmed, he doubled together, crumpled up. . . . His portmanteaus, bundles and cardboard

boxes seemed to shrink and crumple up too. . . . His wife's long chin grew longer still;

Nafanail drew himself up to attention and fastened all the buttons of his uniform.

"Your Excellency, I . . . delighted! The friend, one may say, of childhood and to have turned

into such a great man! He--he!"

"Come, come!" the fat man frowned. "What's this tone for? You and I were friends as boys,

expression of such reverence, sugariness, and mawkish respectfulness that the privy

councillor was sickened. He turned away from the thin man, giving him his hand at parting.

The thin man pressed three fingers, bowed his whole body and sniggered like a Chinaman:

"He--he--he!" His wife smiled. Nafanail scraped with his foot and dropped his cap. All

three were agreeably overwhelmed.

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