Page:The Kiss and Other Stories by Anton Tchekhoff, 1908.pdf/184

 fish is brought from the market, cleaned, and thrust quickly into a pot. . . quickly, quickly, because every one is hungry. . . frightfully hungry. From the restaurant kitchen came the smell of boiled fish and crab soup.

This smell began to tickle my palate and nostrils; I felt it permeating my whole body. The restaurant, my father, the white notice, my sleeve, all exhaled it so strongly that I began to chew. I chewed and swallowed as if my mouth were really full of the strange animal that lives in the sea. ..

The pleasure was too much for my strength, and to prevent myself falling I caught my father's cuff, and leaned against his wet summer overcoat. My father shuddered. He was cold. . ..

“Father, can you eat oysters on fast days?” I asked.

“You eat them alive. . .” he answered. “They are in shells. . . like tortoises, only in double shells.”

The seductive smell suddenly ceased to tickle my nostrils, and the illusion faded. Now I understood!

“How horrible !” I exclaimed. “How hideous!”

So that was the meaning of oysters! However, hideous as they were, my imagination could paint them. I imagined an animal like a frog. The frog sat in the shell, looked out with big, bright eyes, and moved its disgusting jaws. What on earth could be more horrible to a hoy who had lived in the world