What Ostap Bender wanted to get on a silver platter. What is served on a silver platter? See what "On a silver platter" is in other dictionaries

On a silver platter
From the novel The Golden Calf (1931) by Soviet writers Ilya Ilf (1897-1937) and Evgeny Petrov (1903-1942).
The words of Ostap Bender, who exactly wanted to get his million from the Soviet underground millionaire (part 1, ch. 2): “I will not choke him with a pillow or hit him on the head with a blued revolver. And, in general, nothing stupid will happen. Oh, if only to find an individual! I’ll arrange it in such a way that he will bring me his money himself, on a silver platter.”
It is likely that in this case the authors ironically rethought the biblical story about Salome, who, for her brilliantly performed dance, demanded that the head of John the Baptist be served to her on a silver platter.
Allegorically: about the desire to get something easily, without effort. After the release of the novel, the stable phrase "get (something) on a silver platter" has developed.

Encyclopedic Dictionary of winged words and expressions. - M.: "Lokid-Press". Vadim Serov. 2003 .

See what "On a silver platter" is in other dictionaries:

See on a silver platter. Encyclopedic Dictionary of winged words and expressions. Moscow: Locky Press. Vadim Serov. 2003 ... Dictionary of winged words and expressions

Aphorisms can be divided into two categories: some catch our eye, are remembered and sometimes used when we want to show off wisdom, while others become an integral part of our speech and go into the category of catchphrases. About authorship ... ... Consolidated encyclopedia of aphorisms

This term has other meanings, see Sims. The Sims 3 Developer ... Wikipedia

Monument to Ostap in "modern Vasyuki" Elista. 1999 Ostap Bender is the protagonist of the novels by Ilya Ilf and Evgeny Petrov "The Twelve Chairs" and "The Golden Calf", a "great strategist" who knew "four hundred relatively honest ways of weaning ... ... Wikipedia

easily- ▲ no difficulty easy (# challenge). easily. lighter than easy. playfully. joking. one left (colloquial). easy. without difficulty (he # found my house). empty business (simple). trifling. a couple of trifles to whom that. what is worth. costs [cost] nothing to anyone. simple: once... Ideographic Dictionary of the Russian Language

Books

Golden calf, Ilf Ilya Arnoldovich, Petrov Evgeny Petrovich. "The Golden Calf" is a continuation of the legendary novel "The Twelve Chairs", in which, by the will of the authors, their favorite hero, the charming and resourceful swindler Ostap Bender, "resurrected". This time,…
Golden calf, Ilf Ilya Arnoldovich. "The Golden Calf" is a continuation of the legendary novel "The Twelve Chairs", in which, by the will of the authors, their favorite hero, the charming and resourceful swindler Ostap Bender, "resurrected". This time,…

For many of us, the expression about a saucer with a blue border is inextricably linked with the "Golden Calf" by I. Ilf and E. Petrov. Ostap Bender pronounces the phrase about the saucer in the epigraph almost at the very beginning of the novel. The image of a tempting saucer becomes one of the main symbols of the book, associating with the desired golden calf - the contents of this saucer. And on the last pages of the novel, he, of course, appears. It is characteristic that the pink, cheerful tone, the optimistic accent with which Ostap Bender pronounced the phrase at the beginning, is replaced by an indifferent intonation. This is understandable: after the laborious and vain searches of millions of Koreiko, after experienced tragedies and disappointments, this bright symbol has lost its rimmed blueness and has been erased. Even the blue border turned from this into just a border:

"... He stopped eating, hid the money in his pockets and no longer took his hands out of there.

Is it a plate? he asked admiringly.

Yes, yes, a plate, - Ostap answered indifferently. - With a blue border. The defendant brought it in his teeth. Wagged his tail for a long time before I agreed to take it. "Now I'm in command of the parade. I feel great."

And the last two phrases of Bender have already lost their former bravura. Here they are rather a stereotyped self-complacency, the rejection of bad forebodings from oneself, which, as you know, were not slow to come true.

The popularity of the novel undoubtedly led to the perception of the turnover to bring on a silver platter as a witty author's invention of the authors of The Golden Calf. To some extent, it is. In this sense, the compilers of the "Experience of the Etymological Dictionary of Russian Phraseology" are right, diagnosing this turnover: "from the novel by I. Ilf and E. Petrov "The Twelve Chairs"". True, they are half right, because, as we have seen, this expression was first used in The Golden Calf, and not in The Twelve Chairs, but the connection between the turnover and the names of popular Soviet satirists is undeniable.

It is no coincidence that almost all of its uses retain a playfully ironic flavor, which is also characteristic of the Ilfo-Petrovsky context: “Laboratory assistants are needed ... I’ll give birth to you, or what?.. Everyone wants to be presented on a silver platter” (N. Amosov, Thoughts and Heart); “It was great to just talk to them. Sometimes you rack your brains trying to understand a person’s act, and here the whole short life openly lay on a silver platter with a motto on the rim: “The main thing is not to strain!” We studied averagely at school, then without diligence in technical school. They swam with the flow of life, and a slight swell cradled them "(B. Konovalov. Diploma in the archive? - Komsomol. True, 1984.22 Aug.). Obviously "hints" at the catchphrase of I. Ilf and E. Petrov and the title of the publication "UFO on a plate with a blue border" (Komsom. Pravda, 1989, June 30).

As a truncation of this expression, the turnover is perceived to bring (serve, receive, bring, etc.) on a silver platter "without labor, effort, ready-made." It is registered mainly in the language of publicists or writers who write on the topic of the day: ""I would like to live in a society where there will be no evil, unfair, dishonest people ..." Kostya thinks that such a society will be served on a silver platter ..." (I. Shamyakin. Heart in the palm of your hand); “It turns out that since they didn’t manage to build houses with baths for everyone here, then life should freeze, stop until better times? And then who, according to the understanding of the peasant daughter Irina Zakharova, who also graduated from an agricultural university, who should cook and bring on a silver platter all the blessings of life to such as she, young agricultural specialists who have barely entered the labor road? (True, 1980, May 14); "The same material and technical base, care for work and life, incentive incentives. But sometimes these requirements hide dependent moods, the desire to get everything on a silver platter" (Pravda, 1973, May 20); "But the abundance of information that is daily served on a silver platter, almost in bed, is difficult to digest" (D. Zhukov. The most lullaby. Our contemporary, 1974, No. 4).

In all the given contexts, the original image is emphasized in one way or another. There are attempts to further individualize the use of turnover: in B. Slutsky ("Autumn Boldino"), everyday and at the same time highly poetic symbols of Pushkin's Boldino are "served" on a silver platter:

But first let's build Boldino at home, his heaven. Wait for him, are his workdays served on a silver platter? Language will bring to Kyiv, but only works to Boldino.

Sometimes, however, a new semantic turn of our expression is given by replacing the verb, which separates the original image from the “food” base: “... Our business is official,” he snapped. It seems that they are not obliged to report. "(E. Stavsky. Reeds). This will say on a silver platter no longer means "will present it ready-made", but, perhaps, "it will explain very clearly, clearly, intelligibly."

The turnover to bring on a silver platter is qualified by our lexicographers as a neologism (NSZ-84,100). But we have already seen that, in terms of semantic-stylistic range, it is closely related to the turnover used back in the 1920s by the authors of The Golden Calf. What is the relationship between these expressions?

Perhaps it should be recognized that I. Ilf and E. Petrov only enriched, individualized the previously existing expression to put on a silver platter, blooming it with a border of the color of dreams and hopes for the acquisition of millions of Koreiko. This is the opinion of some linguists (Melerovich 1978, 37-38), and this opinion is easily confirmed by real linguistic facts.

Indeed, in the Russian literary language, for a long time, even before the diminutive, the non-diminutive form of this expression was used to bring it on a platter:

"Batmanov acts as if we have already presented a new project on a platter and we can see everything to the bottom," Kovshov noted with some concern "( IN.Azhaev. Far from Moscow);"You dreamed about a boat and thought that they would bring you a boat on a platter" (L. Sobolev.Green meadow); “He only needed, of course, to get a clue in the spirit of the one that Kapustin brought on a platter” (V.I. Lenin. Custom police-patriotic demonstration).

The primacy of this particular form of Our expression is evidenced by its wide popularity in many languages: Bolg. I’ll put it on tepsia, I’ll put m a dish \ s.-x. dobiti (donijeti) kao na tanjiru (tanjuru); English hand somebody something on a plate; hand (present) something on a silver platter (literally, "bring something on a platter, silver tray"); German einem etwas auf dem Pràsentierteller bringen ("bring something to someone on a tray"), etc. Both figurative and direct meanings are similar to the semantics of the Russian phrase bring on a platter. In such cases, it should be recognized that we are faced with phraseological internationalism, because it is difficult to state exactly from which language the expression spread to which.

What is the original image of this expression?

Perhaps one of the most bizarre and even creepy (“horror”) etymologies of N. M. Shansky, V. I. Zimin and A. V. Filippov was expressed precisely in an attempt to answer this question. Recognizing, on the one hand, the actually Russian character of the turnover on a silver platter in connection with its attribution to the novel by I. Ilf and E. Petrov, these authors simultaneously state: "It goes back to the text of the Gospel about how Salome demanded to bring her on a silver on a platter the head of John the Baptist" (KEF, 1979, No. 5, 84; Experience, 83).

Isn't it true - the mere presentation of this biblical picture makes you shudder?

The biblical legend about the immediate predecessor of Jesus Christ, John the Baptist, or the Forerunner, indeed, also tells how the stepdaughter of the ruler of Galilee, Salome, who pleased her stepfather at a feast on the occasion of his birthday, asks for the head of John as a reward. The executioner, having performed the "beheading", gives it to Salome on a platter, and she takes it to mock her mother Herodias. This plot is well known and reflected in numerous icons, frescoes, paintings, received various mythological interpretations and overgrown with details in different European countries.

Is it possible, however, to draw this plot to our playfully ironic expression? As it seems - it is impossible. Even the jocularly ironic tone itself is out of harmony with the Christian tragedy of the legend about the "beheading" of John the Baptist. In addition, the plot of the legend itself comes into conflict with the figurative meaning of the turnover to bring on a platter: after all, the phraseological unit involves offering something ready-made, receiving something without any difficulty, without any extra effort, but the Dish with the truncated head of John the Baptist went to Salome is absolutely not. The ruler of Galilee, Herod Antipas, did not immediately decide to order the execution of the righteous man, who spoke out with angry denunciations against him, Herod, who violated ancient Jewish customs and married his brother during his lifetime to his wife Herodias. He was afraid of John's popularity and therefore at first contented himself with just imprisoning him. To force Herod to give such an order, his stepdaughter had to perform such an incendiary dance at the feast that her stepfather promised to fulfill her every request. As you can see, the dish with the head of John the Baptist is by no means a saucer with a blue border, on which the desired appears by itself.

That is why the image of this expression should be sought in a different, much more prosaic and humane ancient custom, with which historians of European phraseology usually associate the corresponding German, English and other expressions (Rôhrich 1977, 744). The phraseological unit is based on the ritual symbolism of a silver or golden dish, on which the guests were served the most delicious dishes. The offering on a dish emphasized special respect (cf. playful proverbs The same pancake, but on a dish or Behind an arrogant godfather you are not with a dish). During the siege of cities in medieval Europe, the city keys were taken out on a platter to the winner: it was no coincidence that Napoleon was waiting, though in vain, that they would take out the keys to the Kremlin gates on a traditional golden platter.

As already mentioned, this expression is international and, apparently, spread in different languages in parallel with the popularity of the "treat" symbolism of the silver and gold dishes. On Russian soil, this turnover developed in the direction of word-formation enrichment: from the original bring on a dish (reflected in the above illustrations), the more common expression gradually turned out to be brought on a silver platter or with a modification on a plate, which had more expressiveness. Refinements with a blue or gold border further enhance this expressiveness. This development is largely due to the Russian tradition itself: in our folk tales, it is on a golden or silver platter, silver or gold, precious stones, golden apples or golden testicles, and even entire cities, fields, forests and seas are brought to the hero. See also the Siberian proverb Happiness is not a pie, they won’t bring it on a plate, which old people use as parting words to newlyweds, or a saying in the Russian dialects of Mordovia, like an apple on a silver platter, “to live easily and carefree.”

In the history of the turnover about a saucer with a blue border, thus, the international symbol, dating back to the guest and military etiquette of medieval Europe, merged with the original Russian folklore ideas. It was from them that I. Ilf and E. Petrov created a bright and memorable, and therefore seemingly new, their own, turn, characterizing someone's unreasonable aspirations or demands.

“But what, do I look like a person who can have relatives?”

No, but I...

- I have no relatives, Comrade Shura - I am alone in the whole world. I had a father, a Turkish subject, and he died long ago in terrible convulsions. Not in this case. I have wanted to go to Rio de Janeiro since childhood. Of course, you do not know about the existence of this city.

Balaganov shook his head mournfully. Of the world centers of culture, besides Moscow, he knew only Kyiv, Melitopol and Zhmerinka. In general, he was convinced that the earth was flat.

Ostap threw on the table a sheet torn from a book.

- This is a clipping from Small Soviet Encyclopedia. Here is what is written here about Rio de Janeiro: "1360 thousand inhabitants" ... so ... "a significant number of mulattos ... near the vast bay of the Atlantic Ocean" ... Here, here! .. the wealth of shops and the splendor of buildings are not inferior to the first cities in the world. Can you imagine, Shura? Do not yield! Mulattos, bay, coffee export, so to speak, coffee dumping, charleston "U my girl has one little thing ”and ... what to talk about! You see for yourself what's going on ! One and a half million people, and all without exception in white pants ! I want to leave here. Over the past year, I have had the most serious disagreements with the Soviet government. She wants to build socialism, but I don't want to. I'm bored with building socialism. That I am a bricklayer, a bricklayer in a white apron? .. Now you understand why I need so much money?

“Where are you going to get five hundred thousand?” Balaganov asked quietly.

"Anywhere," replied Ostap. - Just show me rich man, and I will take money from him.

- How? Murder? - More Balaganov asked in a quieter voice and glanced at the neighboring tables, where the Arbatovites were raising toasty wine glasses.

“You know,” said Ostap, “you shouldn’t have signed the so-called Sukharevskaya conventions. This mental exercise seems to have exhausted you greatly. You are becoming stupid right before your eyes. Note to yourself, Ostap Bender never killed anyone. He was killed , It was. But he himself is clean before the law. I'm certainly not a cherub , y I don't have wings . But I honor criminal code. This is my weakness.

- How do you think take money?

- How do I take it? Taking or withdrawing money varies depending on the circumstances. I personally have four hundred comparatively honest methods of weaning. But it's not about the methods. The fact is that now there are no rich people. And this is the horror of my position. Another would, of course, pounce on some defenseless state institution, but this is not in my rules. You know my respect for criminal code. There is no calculation to rob the team. Give me a richer individual. But he is not, this individual.

- Yes you! Balaganov exclaimed. - There are very rich people !

– Do you know them? Ostap said immediately. - Can you give the name and exact address of at least one Soviet millionaire? But they are, they should be . But how to find one dodger?

Ostap even sighed. Apparently, dreams of a rich individual had long worried him.

“How nice,” he said. thoughtfully, - to work with a legal millionaire in a well-organized bourgeois state with old capitalist traditions. There the millionaire is a popular figure. His address is known. He lives in a mansion somewhere in Rio de Janeiro. You go straight to his reception and already in the hall after the very first greetings you take away money. And all this, keep in mind, in a good, polite way: "Hello, sir, don't worry ! You have to worry a little. All right! Ready". And that's all. Culture! What could be easier? A gentleman in a society of gentlemen does his little business. Just don't shoot at the chandelier, it's superfluous. And we have ... God, God , V what a cold country we live in . We have everything hidden, everything is underground. The Soviet millionaire cannot be found even by the Narkomfin with its super-powerful tax apparatus. And the millionaire, perhaps, is now sitting in this so-called summer garden, at the next table, and drinking forty-kopeck Tip-Top beer. That's what's embarrassing!

“So you think,” Balaganov asked after a while, “that if such a secret millionaire were found, then ...

- Don't continue , I know what you want to say. No, not that, not at all. I will not choke him with a pillow or beat him black headshot. And in general, nothing stupid will happen. Oh ! E if only to find an individual! I'll arrange it in such a way that he will bring me his money himself, on a silver platter.

- This is very good ! Balaganov smiled trustingly. - Five hundred thousand on a silver platter !

He got up and began to circle around the table. He smacked his tongue plaintively, stopped, even opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but, without saying anything, sat down and got up again. Ostap indifferently followed Balaganov's evolutions.

- Will he bring it? Balaganov suddenly asked in a raspy voice. - On a saucer? What if it doesn't? Where is Rio de Janeiro? Far? It can't be that everyone is wearing white pants. ! Drop it, Bender ! For five hundred thousand, you can live well with us.

“Undoubtedly, undoubtedly,” Ostap said cheerfully, “it is possible to live. But you don't flap your wings for no reason. You don't have five hundred thousand.

A deep wrinkle appeared on Balaganov's serene, unplowed forehead. He looked uncertainly at Ostap and said:

- I know such a millionaire. It might work out.

All animation disappeared from Bender's face in an instant. His face immediately hardened and again took on a medal shape.

“Go, go,” he said, “I serve only on Saturdays, there is nothing to pour here.

- Honestly, Monsieur Bender ! ..

- Listen, Shura, if you have finally switched to French, then call me not Monsieur, and situayen, which means a citizen. By the way, the address of your millionaire?

– He lives in Chernomorsk.

- Well , of course he knew ! Chernomorsk! There, even before the war, a man with ten thousand was called a millionaire. And now... I can imagine! No, it's nonsense!

- No, let me tell you. This is a real millionaire. You see, Bender, it happened to me sit in the local add...

Ten minutes later, the dairy brothers left the summer cooperative garden with beer. The great strategist felt himself in the position of a surgeon who had to perform a very serious operation. All is ready. Napkins and bandages are steaming in electric saucepans, a nurse in a white toga moves silently across the tiled floor, glitters medical faience and nickel, the patient lies on a glass table, languidly rolling his eyes to the ceiling, the smell of German chewing gum wafts in the specially heated air. The surgeon, arms outstretched, approaches the operating table, accepts a sterilized Finnish knife from the assistant, and dryly says to the patient:

“Well, take off the burnous!”

“It’s always like this with me,” Bender said, his eyes shining, “you have to start a million-dollar business with a noticeable shortage of banknotes. All my capital, fixed, circulating and reserve, amounts to five rubles ... What, you said, was the name of the underground millionaire?

“Koreiko,” Balaganov answered.

“Yes, yes, Koreiko. Great last name. And you claim that no one knows about his millions?

- No one but me and Pruzhansky. But Pruzhansky, because I tell you already He said he would be in prison for another three years. If only you could see how he was dying and crying when I went out into the wild. He, apparently, felt that I should not have told about Koreiko.

“The fact that he revealed his secret to you is nonsense. Not because of this he was killed and cried. He probably had a premonition that you would tell it's all about to me. And this is really a direct loss for poor Pruzhansky. By the time Pruzhansky is released from prison, Koreiko will find solace only in the vulgar proverb: "Poverty is not a vice."

The gardeners whispered anxiously. For about five minutes the chauffeur looked pleadingly through the garden grate and, apparently losing hope of getting a passenger, shouted defiantly:

– Taxi is free! Please sit down!

But none of the citizens expressed a desire to get into the car "Oh, I'll give a ride!". And even the very invitation of the driver had an effect on them in a strange way. They lowered their heads and tried not to look in the direction of the car. The driver shook his head and drove off slowly. The Arbatovites looked after him sadly. Five minutes later the green car sped past the garden in the opposite direction. The driver was jumping up and down in his seat and shouting something unintelligible. The car was still empty.

Ostap looked after her and said:

- So, Balaganov, you are a dude. Don't be offended. By this I want to indicate precisely the place that you occupy under the sun.

- Go to hell! Balaganov said rudely.

- Are you still offended? So, in your opinion, the position of a lieutenant's son is not foppery?

“But you yourself are the son of Lieutenant Schmidt!” cried Balaganov.

"You're a dude," repeated Ostap. “And the dude’s son. And your children will be dudes. Boy! What happened this morning is not even an episode, but just a pure coincidence, a whim of an artist. Gentleman in search of ten. Catching such meager odds is not in my nature. And what kind of profession is this, God forgive me! Lieutenant Schmidt's son! Well, another year, well, two. And then what? Further, your red curls become familiar, and they will simply start beating you.

– So what to do? Balaganov got worried. How to get daily bread?

"We must think," said Ostap sternly. - I, for example, feed ideas. I do not hold out my paw for the sour executive committee ruble. My basting is wider. You, I see, disinterestedly love money. What amount do you like?

“Five thousand,” Balaganov answered quickly.

- Per month?

"Then I'm out of my way with you." I need five hundred thousand. And if possible, immediately, and not in parts.

“Maybe you can still take it in parts?” asked the vengeful Balaganov.

Ostap looked attentively at his interlocutor and quite seriously replied:

- I would take parts. But I need it right now.

Balaganov was about to make a joke about this phrase as well, but, raising his eyes to Ostap, he immediately broke off. In front of him sat an athlete with an exact face, as if stamped on a coin. A brittle white scar cut his swarthy throat. His eyes sparkled with formidable amusement.

Balaganov suddenly felt an irresistible desire to stretch his arms at his sides. He even wanted to clear his throat, as happens with people of average responsibility when talking with one of their superior comrades. Indeed, clearing his throat, he asked in embarrassment:

- Why do you need so much money ... and immediately?

“Actually, I need more,” said Ostap, “five hundred thousand is my minimum, five hundred thousand full-weight approximate rubles. I want to leave, Comrade Shura, to go very far, to Rio de Janeiro.

- Do you have relatives there? Balaganov asked.

“But what, do I look like a person who can have relatives?”

No, but I...

Balaganov shook his head mournfully. Of the world centers of culture, apart from Moscow, he knew only Kyiv, Melitopol and Zhmerinka. In general, he was convinced that the earth was flat.

Ostap threw on the table a sheet torn from a book.

- This is a clipping from the Small Soviet Encyclopedia. Here is what is written here about Rio de Janeiro: “1360 thousand inhabitants…” so… “a significant number of mulattoes… by the vast bay of the Atlantic Ocean…” Lo, lo! "The main streets of the city in terms of the wealth of shops and the splendor of buildings are not inferior to the first cities in the world." Can you imagine, Shura? Do not yield! Mulattos, the bay, coffee exports, so to speak, coffee dumping *, Charleston * called "My girl has one little thing", and ... what to talk about! You see for yourself what is happening. One and a half million people - and all without exception in white pants. I want to leave here. Over the past year, I have had the most serious disagreements with the Soviet government. She wants to build socialism, but I don't want to. I'm bored with building socialism. Now you understand why I need so much money?

“Where are you going to get five hundred thousand?” Balaganov asked quietly.

"Anywhere," replied Ostap. Show me only a rich man and I will take his money.

- How? Murder? Balaganov asked even more quietly and glanced at the neighboring tables, where the Arbatovites were raising toasty wine glasses.

“You know,” said Ostap, “you shouldn't have signed the so-called Sukharev Convention. This mental exercise seems to have exhausted you greatly. You are becoming stupid right before your eyes. Note to yourself: Ostap Bender never killed anyone. He was killed - it was. But he himself is clean before the law. I am certainly not a cherub. I don't have wings, but I respect the Criminal Code. This is my weakness.

How are you going to take the money?

- How do I take it? Taking or withdrawing money varies depending on the circumstances. I personally have four hundred comparatively honest methods of weaning. But it's not about the methods. The fact is that now there are no rich people. And this is the horror of my position. Another would, of course, pounce on some defenseless state institution, but this is not in my rules. You know my respect for the Criminal Code. There is no calculation to rob the team. Give me a richer individual. But he is not, this individual.

- Yes you! Balaganov exclaimed. - There are very rich people.

– Do you know them? Ostap said immediately. - Can you give the name and exact address of at least one Soviet millionaire? But they are, they should be. Since some banknotes are roaming around the country, then there must be people who have a lot of them. But how do you find such a trickster?

Ostap even sighed. Apparently, dreams of a rich individual had long worried him.

“How nice,” he said thoughtfully, “to work with a legal millionaire in a well-organized bourgeois state with old capitalist traditions. There the millionaire is a popular figure. His address is known. He lives in a mansion somewhere in Rio de Janeiro. You go straight to his reception and already in the hall, after the very first greetings, you take money away. And all this, keep in mind, in a good way, politely: “Hello, sir, do not worry. You have to worry a little. Ol Wright. Ready". And that's it. Culture! What could be easier? A gentleman in a society of gentlemen does his little business. Just don't shoot at the chandelier - it's superfluous. And we have ... God, God! .. In what a cold country we live! We have everything hidden, everything is underground. A Soviet millionaire cannot be found even by Narkomfin* with its super-powerful tax apparatus. And the millionaire, perhaps, is now sitting in this so-called summer garden at the next table and drinking 40-kopeck Tip-Top beer. That's what's embarrassing!

“So you think,” Balaganov asked after a while, “that if such a secret millionaire were found, then? ..

- Don't go on. I know what you want to say. No, not that, not at all. I will not choke him with a pillow or hit him on the head with a blued revolver. And in general, nothing stupid will happen. Oh, if only to find an individual! I'll arrange it in such a way that he will bring me his money himself, on a silver platter.

- This is very good! Balaganov smiled trustingly. “Five hundred thousand on a silver platter.”

- Will he bring it? Balaganov suddenly asked in a raspy voice. - On a saucer? What if it doesn't? Where is Rio de Janeiro? Far? It can't be that everyone is wearing white pants. Come on, Bender. For five hundred thousand, you can live in our bury.

“Undoubtedly, undoubtedly,” Ostap said cheerfully, “it is possible to live. But you don't flap your wings for no reason. You don't have five hundred thousand.

A deep wrinkle appeared on Balaganov's serene, unplowed forehead. He looked uncertainly at Ostap and said:

- I know such a millionaire.

All animation disappeared from Bender's face in an instant. His face immediately hardened and again took on a medal shape.

“Go, go,” he said, “I serve only on Saturdays, there is nothing to pour here.

“Honestly, Monsieur Bender…

- Listen, Shura, if you have finally switched to French, then call me not monsieur, but situayen, which means “citizen”. By the way, the address of your millionaire?

– He lives in Chernomorsk.

“Well, of course, I knew it. Chernomorsk! There, even before the war, a man with ten thousand was called a millionaire. And now… I can imagine! No, it's nonsense!

- No, let me tell you. This is a real millionaire. You see, Bender, it happened to me recently to sit in the preparatory room there * ...

Ten minutes later, the "milk brothers" left the summer cooperative garden with beer. The great strategist felt himself in the position of a surgeon who had to perform a very serious operation. All is ready. Napkins and bandages are steamed in electric saucepans, a nurse in a white toga moves inaudibly across the tiled floor, medical faience and nickel shine, the patient lies on a glass table, rolling his eyes languidly to the ceiling, the smell of German chewing gum wafts in the specially heated air. The surgeon, arms outstretched, approaches the operating table, accepts a sterilized Finnish knife from the assistant, and dryly says to the patient: "Well, take off the burnus."

“Koreiko,” Balaganov answered.

Yes, yes, Koreiko. Great last name! And you claim that no one knows about his millions?

- No one but me and Pruzhansky. But Pruzhansky, as I told you, will be in prison for another three years. If only you could see how he was dying and crying when I went out into the wild. He must have felt that I shouldn't have told him about Koreiko.

“The fact that he revealed his secret to you is nonsense. Not because of this he was killed and cried. He probably had a presentiment that you would tell the whole story to me. And this, indeed, is a direct loss to poor Pruzhansky. By the time Pruzhansky is released from prison, Koreiko will find solace only in the vulgar proverb: "Poverty is not a vice."

Ostap threw off his summer cap and, waving it in the air, asked:

– Do I have gray hair?

Balaganov drew up his stomach, spread his socks to the width of a rifle butt, and answered in a right-flank voice:

- No way!

- So they will. We have great battles ahead of us. You will also turn gray, Balaganov.

Balaganov suddenly giggled stupidly:

- How do you say? Will he bring the money on a silver platter?

“On a silver platter for me,” said Ostap, “and for you on a plate.”

What about Rio de Janeiro? I want white pants too.

“Rio de Janeiro is the crystal dream of my childhood,” the great strategist answered sternly, “do not touch it with your paws.” Get to the point. Send linemen at my disposal. Parts to arrive in the city of Chernomorsk as soon as possible. Guard uniform. Well, trumpet the march! I will lead the parade!