A story by Mikhail Zoshchenko
It's a long time, my friends, that I've been getting ready to tell you about the Komsomolets Grisha Stepanchikov, but I always forget somehow. And time passes, of course.
Maybe a half year has gone since this piece of unpleasantness visited Grisha.
Of course the boy was caught in circumstances that looked bad-- bourgeois leaning and the general undermining of socialism. But allow me to shed complete light on this redoubtable chronicle.
It took Place, I think, in Moscow. Or perhaps it was not Moscow. But it seems to me it was Moscow. I think so because of the sweep of the thing. But I will not insist on Moscow. The Red Gazette did not go into details. It only mentioned in small type--that it took place in the Semyonovsky nucleus.
And this is what happened. In this Semyonovsky, that is, in the nucleus, this same much-suffering Grisha Stepanchikov was a member. And somehow this Grisha had three teeth knocked out. Why they were knocked out--that is a matter unknown to us. Perhaps on account of too much physical culture. Perhaps he ran into a tree. Or perhaps he ate too many sweets in his childhood. The only thing we do know is that it was not in a drunken brawl that it happened. That is quite impossible!
And so, there's our Grisha, minus three teeth. The others are all in their place. But those three, well, they simply aren't.
And he a young fellow too! Many-sided! It isn't interesting for him, you understand, to pass his time without the three teeth. What is his life in their absence? He can't whistle. It's hard to eat. And there's nothing to hold a cigarette with. And then, there's a hiss when he speaks! And tea runs out of his mouth.
The boy did everything he could--he used wax in the hole, and bread to cover it--but it didn't help any.
Grisha saved a little money. And went to a dentist.
"Put in," he says, "if that's what is needed, three artificial teeth."
The dentist was young, careless. He didn't enter into the psy