Chapter 8 Chapter 6 Shuike stepped out of the vicious circle and returned home

The police station smells like a yamen, and the authorities have been estimating how enthusiastic people are about the war.In the bureau, except for a few people who are still aware that they are brothers of this country, and this country is doomed to shed blood for interests that have nothing to do with it, the rest are a group of majestic political beasts, Prison and the gallows are all they have in their minds, and by these they support their violent laws. At interrogation they deal with the man who falls into their hands with malicious geniality, deliberating every word before it reaches their lips.

"Sorry, you're in our hands again!" said one of the beasts with black and yellow armbands sewn on their uniforms, seeing Schweik brought up to him. "We all thought you'd change your ways, but we were wrong." Schweik nodded silently, agreeing.His expression was so composed that the beasts stared blankly at him inexplicably, and then said emphatically: "Don't put on that stupid look on your face!" But he immediately went on in a polite tone: "You can be sure we don't want to lock you up, and I'm sure I don't think you've committed any serious crimes; You have been led astray. Tell me, Herr Schweik, who led you into that stupid game?"

Schweik coughed a little, and then said: "Excuse me, my lord, I don't know what you mean by that stupid trick?" "Then Monsieur Schweik," he said, pretending to be a loyal elder, "according to the inspector who brought you, you once gathered a large crowd in front of the emperor's declaration of war on the corner of the street, and shouted 'Franz Long live Yusef! We will win this war!' to incite them, don't you think this is a stupid trick?" "I can't stand idly by," confessed Schweik, his innocent eyes fixed on the judge's face. "It angered me when I saw them all reading the Royal Proclamation and none of them showed the slightest sign of joy. No one gave a hello, or three cheers—My Lord Inspector, and nothing happened. It seems It's as if they have nothing to do with them. I'm an old soldier from the Ninety-One Regiment, and I couldn't help it, that's why I yelled. I think you would do the same if you were in my position Yes. If there is a war, it must be won; besides, it must be shouted three times to the emperor. No one can stop me."

The beast was speechless by him.He was a little embarrassed, and didn't dare to look straight at Schweik, an innocent lamb, and quickly cast his eyes on the official document, saying: "I fully understand your patriotic enthusiasm, but I still hope you can show it on other occasions." Better yet. You yourself know perfectly well that you were brought here by the inspector because this display of patriotism might—and it might—inevitably be taken for sarcasm rather than sincerity." "When a man is arrested by an inspector, that is the most important moment in his life," Schweik replied. "But if he doesn't even at this moment forget what he's supposed to do when the country declares war, I don't think such a man is a bad guy after all."

They stared at each other for a while. "Shuaik, get the hell out of here!" said the last airsman. "If you're caught here again, I don't care. I'll send you to a court-martial. Understand?" Without waiting for him to pay attention, Schweik rushed forward, kissed his hand and said: "May God bless you with all the merits he has done for you, whenever you want a purebred dog, please come. I'm a dog dealer." Schweik thus regained his freedom and went home. He pondered for a while whether he should go to the Bottle Kee Tavern first.So he went to push open the door that the plainclothes policeman Brichenade had accompanied him out not long ago.

The barroom was dead silent.A few customers sat there, all of them frowning.Behind the counter sat Mrs. Parrywitz, the hostess, staring indifferently at the trigger of the beer keg. "Hey, I'm back again," said Schweik cheerfully. "Give us a beer. Where's Mr. Parewitz? He is back too! " Mrs. Parviz did not answer, but shed tears.Sobbing, emphasizing her misfortune with every word, she said, "A-week-ago-they-sentenced-him-ten-years-prisonment!" "Hey, that's really unexpected!" Schweik said. "Then he has been sitting for seven days!"

"How cautious he is," cried Mrs. Parrivates. "He always said that himself." The patrons stood up, paid their bills, and walked out without a word.Schweik and Mrs. Parrivitz were left alone in the room. "Is that Mr. Bridgenade still here?" asked Schweik. "I've been here a few times," said the female shopkeeper. "He always asks for a drink or two and then asks me who's been here. The patrons are sitting here talking about football and he's eavesdropping. When they see him coming they just talk about football." Schweik had just finished his second glass of rum when Brichenade walked into the bar.He quickly scanned the empty bar with his eyes, and sat down beside Schweik.He ordered some beer and waited for Schweik to speak.

"Oh, so it's you," said Schweik, taking his hand. "I didn't recognize you just now. I have such a bad memory that I forget it when I see you. I think we met at the police station last time. How have you been doing lately? Do you come here often?" "I have come to see you today on purpose," said Brichenade. "The police told me that you are a dog dealer. I'd love to get a rat-dog, or a (dog) dog, or something like that. " "That's easy," replied Schweik. "Do you want a purebred or a mongrel?" "I think it's better to have a purebred," replied Brichenade.

"Don't you want a police dog?" Schweik asked. "Is it the kind that you can smell it as soon as you smell it, and then take you to the place where the crime was committed?" "I want a (dog) dog," said Bridgenade calmly, "a (dog) dog that doesn't bite." "So you want a dog without teeth?" Schweik asked. "Perhaps I'd better have a rat-dog!" said Bridgenade, a little embarrassed.His knowledge of dogs was very limited, and he would never have thought of dogs if he had not been given these special instructions from the police.

But the instructions he received were simple, clear, and urgent.He had to use Shuike's dog-selling activities to get closer to him.For this matter, he was authorized to choose an assistant, and he could also use the money to buy a dog. "Rat dogs come in all sizes," Schweik said. "I know two small ones, three big ones, and all five you can pet on your lap. I'm sure they're fine." "It might be right for me," Brichenade said. "How much is it?" "It depends on the size," said Schweik. "It's the size. A rat dog is not the same as a calf. Quite the opposite: the smaller the more expensive."

"I'd like a big housekeeper," said Bridchenade, who was afraid of drawing too much money from the Secret Police. "Let's do it," said Schweik. "I'll sell you fifty crowns for the big one, and twenty-five crowns for the bigger one. But I forgot to mention one thing: Do you want a puppy or a bigger dog? Also, is it a male dog?" Or a bitch?" "It's all the same anyway," replied Bridchenade, who felt himself getting tangled up in the question. "Get it ready for me, and I'll come to pick it up at seven o'clock tomorrow night. Will it be ready by then?" "Come on, you're right, I'll take care of everything." Schweik replied bluntly. "But in view of the present situation, I must ask you to advance me thirty crowns." "That's all right," said Bridchenade, paying him the money. "Okay, let's have a drink for this business, my treat." They each drank four glasses, Schweik paid his share, and went back to his old servant, Mrs. Moller.She was greatly surprised when she saw that it was Schweik who had opened the door with her key. "I thought it would be years and years before you came back," she said with her usual frankness. Then she went to make the bed, taking special care to put everything in order.When she saw Schweik again in the kitchen, she said with tears in her eyes: "The two puppies we kept in the yard, sir, they are dead. The St. Bernard dog was caught when the police came to search." Run away too." "Mrs. Moeller, those inspectors are messing with me. I bet there aren't many people coming here to buy dogs now," Schweik said with a sigh. After the collapse of Austria, if someone looked through the police files and read the following items under "Secret Police Funds", I don't know if he understood the meaning, for example: B. Forty crowns, F. Fifty crowns, M. · Eighty crowns and so on.It would be a huge mistake if they thought that the letters B, F, M stood for abbreviations of names, that they sold the Czech nation to the Austrian Crown for forty, fifty, or eighty crowns. The B stands for "Saint Bernard," the F stands for "Foxhound," and the M stands for "Mastiff."These were the dogs that Bridchenade had brought to the police station from Schweik--all of them hideous and dissimilar, having nothing in common with purebred dogs.Schweik sold them all as fakes to Brichenade. The St. Bernard he sold was a cross between a poodle mongrel and a wild dog of unknown origin, but the foxhound had badger dog ears and was as big as a mastiff with legs turned out, really. Like suffering from rickets.A bulldog with a rough coat like a Scotch sheepdog, with a short-cropped tail, no taller than a badger dog, and a bald crop behind the rear. Then Agent Carus went to buy dogs too, and he brought back a timid, well-thought-out monster resembling a hyena, nominally a Scottish sheepdog.Therefore, an item of R.90 crowns was added to the secret police expenses. This monster is said to be a hunting dog. But even Carus couldn't squeeze anything out of Schweik.He was as lucky as Brichenade.Schweik leads a clever topic about politics to how to cure canine distemper for puppies, and the spies set all kinds of traps, but the only result is that Schweik turns a hybrid into an unbelievable and extremely ugly dog. Dog, passed off to Bridgenade. ---------- ⑴Krone was the common name of the currency at that time, and each krone was one hundred Heller.