Bob: Humbly report, Sir, regarding bouncy? As I said to Bretschneider:
"What do I mean? Just this. If he'd been fatter, then of course he'd certainly have had a stroke long ago, when he was chasing those old women at Konopiste when they were collecting firewood and picking mushrooms on his estate, and he wouldn't have died such a shameful death. . . Why, it's a scandal! The newpapers are full of it. Years ago in our Budejovice a cattle-dealer called Bretislav Ludvik was stabbed in the market place in a petty squabble. He had a son called Bohuslav, and wherever that lad came to sell his pigs, no one wanted to buy anything from him and everyone said: 'That's the son of that chap who was stabbed. He's probably a first class b@stard too!' There was nothing for him to do but to jump into the Vltava from that bridge at Krumlov, and they had to drag him out, ressurect him, pump water out of him, and of course he had to die in the arms of the doctor, just when he was giving him an injection. . .God forbid my wanting to compare anyone to anybody else. Mr. Palivec knows me very well. I've never compared anyone to anybody else, have I?"
More rum?
Svejk |
