Mikhail Bulgakov. The Fateful Eggs -
40 >
After travelling north as far as Archangel and Syumkin Vyselok, the
plague stopped of its own accord for the simple reason that it could go no
further-there are no chickens in the White Sea, as we all know. It also
stopped in Vladivostok, because after that came the ocean. In the far south
it died down and disappeared somewhere in the scorched expanses of Ordubat,
Djilfa and Karabulak, and in the west it stopped miraculously right at the
Polish and Rumanian frontiers. Perhaps the climate there was different or
the quarantine cordon measures taken by these neighbouring states helped.
But the fact remains that the plague went no further. The foreign press
discussed the unprecedented plague loudly and avidly, and the Soviet
government, without kicking up a racket, worked tirelessly round the clock.
The Extraordinary Commission to combat the chicken plague was renamed the
Extraordinary Commission to encourage and revive poultry-keeping in the
Republic and supplemented by a new extraordinary troika consisting of
sixteen comrades. "Volunteer-Fowl" was founded, of which Persikov and
Portugalov became honorary deputy chairmen. The newspapers carried pictures
of them with the captions "Mass purchase of eggs from abroad" and "Mr Hughes
tries to sabotage egg campaign". A venomous article by the journalist
Kolechkin, ending with the words: "Keep your hands off our eggs, Mr
Hughes-you've got eggs of your own!", resounded all over Moscow.
Professor Persikov had worked himself to a state of complete exhaustion
over the last three weeks. The fowl events had disturbed his usual routine
and placed an extra burden on him. He had to spend whole evenings attending
fowl committee meetings and from time to time endure long talks either with
Alfred Bronsky or the fat man with the artificial leg. And together with