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     'Yesterday in a  restaurant  I clouted a fellow across the snout,' the
poet confessed manfully.
     'What for? ' asked the visitor disapprovingly.
     'For no reason at all, I must admit,' replied Ivan, embarrassed.
     'Disgraceful,' said the visitor reproachfully and added:
     'And I don't care for that expression of yours--clouted him across the
snout. .  . . People have  faces,  not  snouts. So  I  suppose you mean  you
punched  him  in  the face. . . . No, you  must give up doing that  sort  of
thing.'
     After this reprimand the visitor enquired :