"Mikhail Bulgakov. The Fateful Eggs ("Роковые яйца")" - читать интересную книгу автора

The evening brought some more surprises. Whereas in the morning the
woods had fallen silent, showing clearly how suspiciously unpleasant it was
when the trees were quiet, and whereas by midday the sparrows from the state
farmyard had also flown off somewhere, that evening there was not a sound
from the Sheremetevka pond either. This was quite extraordinary, because
everyone for twenty miles around was familiar with the croaking of the
Sheremetev frogs. But now they seemed to be extinct. There was not a single
voice from the pond, and the sedge was silent. It must be confessed that
this really upset Alexander Semyonovich. People had begun to talk about
these happenings in a most unpleasant fashion, i.e., behind his back.
"It really is strange," said Alexander Semyonovich to his wife at
lunch. "I can't understand why those birds had to go and fly away."
"How should I know?" Manya replied. "Perhaps it's because of your ray."
"Don't be so silly, Manya!" exclaimed Alexander Semyonovich, flinging
down his spoon. "You're as bad as the peasants. What's the ray got to do
with it?" "I don't know. Stop pestering me." That evening brought the third
surprise. The dogs began howling again in Kontsovka and how! Their endless
whines and angry, mournful yelping wafted over the moonlit fields.
Alexander Semyonovich rewarded himself somewhat with yet another
surprise, a pleasant one this time, in the conservatory. A constant tapping
had begun inside the red eggs in the chambers. "Tappity-tappity-tappity,"
came from one, then another, then a third.
The tapping in the eggs was a triumph for Alexander Semyonovich. The
strange events in the woods and on the pond were immediately forgotten.
Everyone gathered in the conservatory, Manya, Dunya, the watchman and the
guard, who left his rifle by the door.
"Well, then? What about that?" asked Alexander Semyonovich
triumphantly. Everyone put their ears eagerly to the doors of the first
chamber. "That's them tapping with their little beaks, the chickens,"
Alexander Semyonovich went on, beaming. "So you thought I wouldn't hatch out
any chicks, did you? Well, you were wrong, my hearties." From an excess of
emotion he slapped the guard on the shoulder. "I'll hatch chickens that'll
take your breath away. Only now I must keep alert," he added strictly. "Let
me know as soon as they start hatching."
"Right you are," replied the watchman, Dunya and the guard in a chorus.
"Tappity-tappity-tappity," went one egg, then another, in the first
chamber. In fact this on-the-spot spectacle of new life being born in a thin
shining shell was so intriguing that they all sat for a long time on the
upturned empty crates, watching the crimson eggs mature in the mysterious
glimmering light. By the time they went to bed it was quite late and a
greenish night had spread over the farm and the surrounding countryside. The
night was mysterious, one might even say frightening, probably because its
total silence was broken now and then by the abject, excruciating howls of
the dogs in Kontsovka. What on earth had got into those blasted dogs no one
could say.
An unpleasant surprise awaited Alexander Semyonovich the next morning.
The guard was extremely upset and kept putting his hands on his heart,
swearing that he had not fallen asleep but had noticed nothing.
"I can't understand it," the guard insisted. "It's through no fault of
mine, Comrade Feight."