# Diamonds To Sit On/Chapter 15

Contents
PART II
IN MOSCOW
CHAPTER XV
THE CHAIRS AND A HOSTEL
Statistics know everything and there is no getting away from them. They not only know how many dentists, porters, film-producers, bicycles, monuments, and sewing-machines there are in the country, but they even know the number of statisticians it contains.
There is one thing, however, they do not know. They do not know how many chairs there are in Soviet Russia.
There are a great number of chairs in Russia. The last census showed that the population of the several republics in Russia numbered one hundred and forty-three million people. If we exclude the ninety million peasants who prefer to sit on stoves and benches, or those in the East who sit on carpets and rugs, even then there are fifty-three million people to whom chairs are a first necessity of life.
If we take into account the mistakes which may have been made in taking the census and the habit of certain citizens to sit between two chairs, then taking two as the average number of chairs per head we find that there must be at least twenty-six and a half million chairs in the country. To be on the safe side, let us ignore the six and a half million and we see that the minimum is twenty million chairs.
In this ocean of chairs made of walnut, oak, and ash, of mahogany and carelian birch wood, of pine and fir, the heroes of our novel have to find one walnut chair ​102
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with bent legs, upholstered in English chintz, made by Gambs, and hiding somewhere inside itself Madam Petukhov’s diamonds. The train carrying Bender and Hippolyte was slowly approaching Moscow. The passengers had exhausted aU the anecdotes they knew. Last Tuesday’s Stargorod newspaper had been read from cover to cover, including the advertisements, and was now a mass of grease-spots. All the roast chickens, hard-boiled eggs, and olives had been eaten, but the last wearisome part of the journey—the last hour before they reached Moscow—^was still ahead of them. While the rest of the passengers went on talking, Hippolyte tried to picture to himself what the Museum of Furniture would look like. He saw it as a long corridor extending for miles with chairs lined up on either side and he could see himself walking through the two rows of chairs. ‘ I wonder what will happen at the Museum of Furniture ? ’ he said to Bender, and then added anxiously ; ' Do you think it will be all right ? ’ ‘ My dear marshal of nobility, it’s high time you had some electrical treatment. There’s no need for you to have hysterics quite so soon. Of course, if you can’t help having them, then at least you might suffer in silence.’ At last the train reached Moscow and they steamed slowly into the cleanest and newest station, the Ryazan. Hippolyte and Bender pushed their way through the crowd and found themselves in Kalanchev Square. It was ten o’clock in the morning. They took a cab, and after a few minutes’ furious driving Hippolyte asked where they were going to. ‘ To good people,’ said Bender. * There are plenty of them in Moscow, and they are all my friends.’ ‘ Are we going to stay with them ? ’ ‘ It’s a community. We can always stay with one or other of them.’ ​THE CHAIRS AND A HOSTEL
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The cabman pulled up outside a house in SivtsevUrazhka Street. ‘ What is this house ? ’ asked Hippolyte. ‘ A hostel for students of chemistry, and it is named after a monk called Berthold Schwartz.’ ‘ Surely not a monk ? ’ ‘ Oh ! well, I was only joking. It is really called Comrade Semashko Hostel.’ Like every student-hostel in Moscow it had long since been filled with people whose connexion with chemistry was very vague. The students had dis­ persed. Some of them had finished their course and had found work in other towns. Others had been expelled for having failed in their examinations, and it was precisely these whose numbers were increasing from year to year that had formed themselves into something between a feudal village-settlement and a union of lodgers. Generations of new students had tried in vain to come and live in the hostel. The ex-chemists were unusually ingenious and resisted all attacks, and in time the students gave up trying to get accommodation there. It was a wild place and had been struck off all the registers of the M.U.N.I. It was as though it had never existed, and yet it did exist, for people were actually living in it. Hippolyte and Bender went up to the first floor, and turned into a dark corridor. ‘ How light and airy ! ’ said Bender. Suddenly some one grunted sarcastically at Hippolyte’s elbow. ‘ Don’t be frightened,’ said Bender. ‘ It’s not in the corridor. It’s on the other side of the wall. Wood, as we know from physics, is the best conductor of sound. Gently, take my arm, there is an iron safe somewhere about. ’ But a groan from Hippolyte showed that he had already hit his chest against the sharp iron corner of the safe. ‘ Are you hurt ? ’ asked Bender. ‘ That’s nothing ; ​104
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it’s only physical suffering. It makes me shudder to remember all the moral suffering that used to go on here. In those days a skeleton used to stand next to that safe. It belonged to a student, Ivanopulo, who bought it and was then afraid to keep it in his own room. The other people used to hit themselves on the safe and the skeleton would fall on them.’ The two friends went up a spiral staircase until they reached a place which had once been a large room, but was now divided up by partition walls to form long cubicles each two yards wide. Each cubicle was hke a schoolboy’s pencil-box, but instead of pencils and penholders there were people and ‘ Primus ’ stoves in them. ‘ Are you in, Nicky ? ’ asked Bender in a low voice as he stopped at the central door. In reply to this question, talking immediately began in the five pencil-boxes. ‘ Yes, I am,’ came a voice from behind the door. ’ That fool has got early visitors again I ’ whispered a woman’s voice, coming from the farthest pencil-box to the left. ‘ Can’t you let a fellow sleep ? ’ growled pencil-box number two. There was a malicious whisper from number three : ‘ They’ve come for Nick from the militia. It must be about the broken window-pane.’ Pencil-box number five was silent except for the roar of a ‘ Primus ’ stove and the sound of two people kissing. Bender kicked the middle door open. The whole partition rocked and he and Hippolyte pushed their way into Nick’s cubicle. It was a terrible place. The only furniture was a red-striped mattress raised on four bricks. That did not disturb Bender, and Nicky did not even move. He was sitting on the mattress with his feet under him, and next to him was such a heavenly creature that Bender immediately became ​THE CHAIRS AND A HOSTEL
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glum. Such young women are never any good when there is any business about. Their eyes are far too blue and their necks are too clean. Either they are mistresses or adored wives. This beauty was called ' Liza and Nicky seemed to be devoted to her. Hippolyte took off his felt hat and Bender called Nicky out into the corridor, where they whispered together for some time. ‘ A fine morning, madam,’ said Hippolyte shyly. The blue-eyed damsel laughed, and quite irrelevantly began to teU Hippolyte what fools the people were in the next pencil-box. ' They light that “ Primus ” stove on purpose so that their kissing should not be heard. It’s absurd, isn’t it ? You see, we can all hear them, but of course they can’t hear anything because of their wretched “ Primus.” Just listen ! ’ And Nicky’s wife, who had fathomed all the secrets of a " Primus ” stove, said in a loud voice ; ‘ The Zverevs are fools ! ’ There was a fiendish hissing from the ‘ Primus ’ and more kissing. ‘ You see ? They can’t hear anything.’ And again she said loudly : ‘ The Zverevs are fools, idiots, and neurotics ! You see ? ’ ‘ Yes,’ agreed Hippolyte. ‘Now we don’t keep a “ Primus ”,’ she went on. ' Why should we ? We dine in a vegetarian restaurant. I don’t believe in vegetarian cooking, but before we got married Nicky was always dreaming about our going to this vegetarian place together, and so we go. I’m very fond of meat, but the cutlets there are made of macaroni. Please don’t say anything about this to Nicky.’ Nicky came into the room again with Bender. ‘ Well, if it’s impossible for us to stay here, we must go to Panteley,’ said Bender after a pause. ‘ Splendid ! ’ shouted Nicky. ‘ You go to Ivanopulo He’s a fine lad.’ ​io6
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' Come and see us again, won’t you ? ’ said Nicky’s wife. ‘ My husband and I will be very pleased.’ ‘ They’re inviting guests again ! ’ said a disgusted voice from next door. ‘ As though they don’t have enough visitors ! ’ ' What’s that got to do with you, you fools ? ’ said Nicky’s wife in quite a level voice. ‘You see ! ’ said an excited voice from next door. ‘ Your wife is being insulted and you don’t say any­ thing I ’ Voices began to shout from the other cubicles as Hippolyte and Bender went downstairs to find Ivanopulo. The student was not at home, but after striking a match, Hippolyte found a note pinned to the door : ‘ Back at nine.’ ' Never mind,’ said Bender, ‘ I know where he keeps the key.’ He fumbled about under the safe, produced a key, and unlocked the door. Ivanopulo’s cubicle was the same size as Nicky’s, but because it was in the corner one of the walls was made of brick. The student was very proud of this fact. To his dismay Hippolyte noticed that the student did not even have a mattress. ‘ Oh ! we’ll manage splendidly,’ said Bender. ‘ It’s a very decent cubicle for Moscow. If we all three lie in a row there’ll still be plenty of floor-space. But what the devil has he done with his mattress ? ’ Bender spread a newspaper on the floor. Hippolyte pulled out a travelling pillow, and it was not long before they were both fast asleep.