Second Summer 2002
Once upon a time there lived a carpenter. His name was Kushakov. Once he walked out of his house and went to a store to buy carpenter's glue.
There was a thaw, and the street was very slippery. The carpenter took a few steps, slipped, fell, and broke his forehead. "Ugh," said the carpenter, got up, went to the drugstore, bought a bandage, and fixed up his forehead.
But when he walked out onto the street and took a few steps, he slipped again, fell, and broke his nose.
"Phoo!" said the carpenter, went into the drugstore, bought a bandage, and pasted his nose together with the bandage.
Then he walked out again onto the street; again he slipped; he fell and broke his cheek.
Again he had to go in the drugstore and fix up his cheek with a bandage.
"You know," the druggist said to the carpenter," you fall so often and hurt yourself, I advise you to buy several bandages."
"No," said the carpenter, "I'm not going to fall any more." But when he walked out onto the street, he slipped again, fell, and broke his chin.
"Lousy ice!" the carpenter shouted and again ran into the drugstore.
"You see," said the druggist, "you fell down again."
"No," shouted the carpenter. "I don't want even to hear about it. Give me a bandage, quick."
The druggist gave him a bandage. The carpenter bandaged up his chin and ran home.
At home they didn't recognize him and didn't let him into his apartment.
"I am the carpenter Kushakov," the carpenter shouted.
"You don't say!" the people in the apartment answered, and bolted the door and put on the chain.
The carpenter Kushakov stood for a moment on the stairs, spat, and went out to the street.