"Lev Kassil. The black book and Schwambrania (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автораto serve as a battle-field. It was marked "War" on the map.
We were soon to see the same word in large block letters in the newspapers. We imagined that all real battles took place in a special hard-packed, cleanly-swept square area like a parade ground. The Earth never curved here, for the ground was level and smooth. "The war place is paved like a sidewalk," I said knowingly to my brother. "Is there a Volga in a war?" he wanted to know. He thought that the Volga meant any river. To both sides of the "War" part on the map were the places for the prisoners of war. The three areas were clearly marked "prizon". All wars in Schwambrania began with the postman ringing the front doorbell of the Emperor's palace. He would say: "There's a special delivery for you, Your Majesty. Sign here." "I wonder who it's from?" the Emperor would say, licking the tip of his pencil. Oska was the postman. I was the Emperor. "I think I know that handwriting," the postman would reply. "It looks like it's from Balvonia. From their king." "Any letters from Caldonia?" the Emperor would ask. "They're still writing," the postman would answer, mimicking to perfection the reply of our postman, Neboga, for that was what he would say whenever we asked if there were any letters for us. "Lend me a hairpin, Queen!" the Emperor would shout and would then slit "Dear Mr. King of Schwambrania, "How are you? We are fine, thank God. Yesterday we had a bad earthquake and three volcanoes erupted. Then there was a terrible fire in the palace and a terrible flood. Last week we had a war against Caldonia. But we licked them and captured all of them. Because the Balvonians are all very brave heroes. And all the Schwambranians are fools, idiots, dunderheads and vandals. And we want to fight you. God willing, we present you with a manifesto in the newspapers. Come on out and fight a War. We'll lick you all and capture you, too. If you don't fight a War, you're all scaredy-cats and sissies. And we despise you. You're all a bunch of idiots. "Regards to your missus the Queen and to the young man who's the heir. "Wherewith is the print of mine own boot. "The King of Balvonia" Upon reading such a letter, the Emperor would become very angry. He would take his sword down from the wall and summon his knife-grinders. He would then send the Balvoniancad a telegram with a "paid reply". The message would read: "I MARCH ON YOU." According to my History of Russia textbook, either Prince Yaroslav or |
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