LAUGH WITH THE ALLIES

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 8, Issue 46, 6 February 1945, Page 5

LAUGH WITH THE ALLIES

HIGH BOOTS

We know the Russians can light. We admire and, acclaim their deeds in arms. Let us also laugh with 'the.m. From a copy of "Crocodile," Russia's national humorous weekly — the "Punch" of U.S.S.R., "Review" prints this story translated into English by F. Kuznetsov.

Ivan Ivanovitch Krutilkin entered the Post Office and went to the window Avhere letters were, left to be called for. He waited in the queue. Soon lie found himself in front of the window peering through thegrille at a handsome ginger-iiaired girl. "Your identity card," said the girl } scanning and flinging back his factory pass. Ivan Ivanovitch lost his courage. "WeH, you see, it's like this j I'm here for the May Day festivals and I'm waiting for letters from home, t . . ." "Have you your identity card on you?" "Yes I have." "Well hand it over then, comrade." "I can't." Ivan ivanovitch pushed his head through the window and, bending towards the said in a low voice.: •'l've hidden it in my boot." "That's nothing to do with me. No letters without showing, your card," "Citizen —please—reconsider it." "I can't. It's the regulations. No identity card —no letters." "So it means that I've got to take my boot off?" Ivan moved away from the window. He looked despairingly round the big hall. There was not a single seat vucant. He took off his coat and swept the lloor with Lt. Then he sat down, laid his portmaneaux down beside him, and began to pull at his right boot. .Very soon a crowd gathered round him asking questions.

"What's the matter? What's he taking his boot off for?" "He's dislocated his ankle and trying to pull it back."

"Nonsense," added a gloomy citizen "it's corns." "Corns?" No, he's got something stuck in it."

The ginger-haired beauty stuck j her head through the window and watched Krutilkin with interest— and amusement. He was sitting on the floor with perspiration streaming down his face. The boot would not come off. Then, with his left foot resting on the heel of his right foot he pulled j and the boot began to move. Krutilkin was triumphant, but on the last lap the boot suddenly stuck fast at the lieelj. "Bad luck," said someone. The crowd began to give him further advice —"Press on the toe—on the toe," shouted a citizen in a bowler hat. "On my toe!" shouted Krutilkin back. "It's the heel that's the trouble." "It's a pity you can't undo the boot; aces," chimed the girl. Ivan Ivanovitch Krutilkin was perspiring profusely and completely worn out. His efforts had been in vain. The boot wouldn't come off and that was that. riTe looked around the crowd with pleading anguished eyes. "Citizens!" he said. "Comrades!" he cried, "Help!" | > Someone wearing pince-nez and j carrying a small walking stick came jup to Ivanovitch Krutilkin and 5 [taking hold of the Matter's. boot ? be- | gan to pull. He pulled and pulled land blew, but nothing came of it ? except that his glasses fell off. Then he gave up and moved away. Another fellow x -tried to help Ivanovitch, but that ? too, was in vain. Next out of the crowd came a big man 'with hands like spades and very thick fingers. He began to have a go at the boot. The crowd was silent, watching. Everybody could see that the man would either pull off the boot or the leg—or both. Ivanovitch closed his eyes in horror. The big mail, still pulling at his dragged him along the tloor by it. Each time he tugged the same thing happened again. "Get a vice!" he shouted hoarsely.

Ivanovilch rested with his left foot on a board. -The mam pulled him up then Hung him down again.

'"Get vice!" he shouted again. "A piece of wood } anything to keep him still!"

But there was nothing ol' the kind in the Post Office. So for ten. minutes he dragged lvanovitch round the fioor. The crowd watched them. They had already made two rounds of the bui:ding t> two women had been carried out, when at last the man sat down exhausted. "You can't do it without a vice of some sort/' he said 4 wiping the sweat off his forehead. Five people

came out of the' crowd and ; holding each other round the waist i hung on to Ivanovitch. The big man was delighted., that's he said, catching hold of Ivan's foot and pulling it against himself. The chain of people moved after him. He pulled again a and the same thing happened again. "Citizens!" cried out the man, "we want another two volunteers!"

Three more people joined in. Tha man once more catight hold of Ivanovitch's loot. The boot, creaked but still refused to come oi¥. He then pulled with all his might and thtfn fell back with the hoot in his hartdL The crowd sigher with relief. Ivano vitch jumped up from, the floor y ran towards the man j and put his. hand in his boot. He peered right into the boot turned it upside down,., and shook'it out, but there was .nothing there. '"Not this one —not this one," , hemuttered. , » "What isn't?" said the big desperately. "You've got the wrong aai awered Ivan. ~ f . i The big man turned pale. j "What do you mean?" | "You'll have to pull the left one* ; off." | ("The other one } you mean?" gaspea" the man with'fright and rushed otai of the Post Office. Ivanovitch sat down on the floor again. He felt so tired that he couldn't move. Ikfct the ginger-haired girl rallied th& crowd. "What are you standing like that for? Why don't you help him?'" Out of the crowd there appeared another man, a little one this tijne. He. went up to pulled up his sleeves, and caught hold-oi the boot. The. crowd watched intently. The' little man gave one dexterous pull and the boot came off. The crowd gasped: The little man eyed them with disdain, and without further explanation made his way proudly to the floor. Ivanovitch holding his boots un- v der his arm, walked barefooted to the window } flourishing his identity card. "My letter!" The girl the identity card, looked and remarked indifferentlx"There's' nothing for Krutilkin, 71