"I don't mean you, your Excellency, I don't mean you. Continue!" cried the hilarious schoolboy, lolling back in his chair. "Continue, I am listening, and am very, ve-ry, ve-ry much pleased with you! Praisewor-thy, praisewor-thy!"
"The wretched boy is drunk," said Pseldonimov in a whisper.
"I see that he is drunk, but...."
"I was just telling a very amusing anecdote, your Excellency!" began the officer, "about a lieutenant in our company who was talking just like that to his superior officers; so this young man is imitating him now. To every word of his superior officers he said 'praiseworthy, praiseworthy!' He was turned out of the army ten years ago on account of it."
"Wha-at lieutenant was that?"
"In our company, your Excellency, he went out of his mind over the word praiseworthy. At first they tried gentle methods, then they put him under arrest.... His commanding officer admonished him in the most fatherly way, and he answered, 'praiseworthy, praiseworthy!' And strange to say, the officer was a fine-looking man, over six feet. They meant to court-martial him, but then they perceived that he was mad."
"So ... a schoolboy. A schoolboy's prank need not be taken seriously. For my part I am ready to overlook it...."
"They held a medical inquiry, your Excellency."
"Upon my word, but he was alive, wasn't he?"
"What! Did they dissect him?"