beer, in the end the stampede ended in a big fight. The old man’s cart was broken, both barrels were crushed. The news of the incident reached the manager first, then the chairman of the collective farm. The chief, calling Meldesh into the office, asked: “What is the meaning of this? Why are you disturbing the people?” “Why is it my fault? I should only be at fault for deciding to treat people weary with work to free beer.” “Why?” “Why not? You yourself say every day that under communism everything should be free. I am already old, my age is approaching the limit, in order to see communism, which you talk so much about, I bought two barrels of beer for my two pensions and distrib- uted them to the people. How was I to know that everything would end in a fight.” “Write!” The chairman said to his assistant, who was sitting next to him. “It’s an order!” Old Meldesh calmed down that day, having received a severe reprimand for disturbing the rest of the workers with his adventurous undertaking. Pasha reminded him exactly of this as he stood in front of the two buildings. Who knows how this situation would have developed further if the chairman of the collective farm had not reminded himself: “Okay, keep talking.” Then Pashat, clearing his throat well, continued to read the prepared speech. “Do not treat these two buildings that are in front of you, as if they are just homes. This is a model of the future, that is, a communist hostel. This is another outstanding achievement of the Soviet working people. These houses were built by representatives of all nationalities living in Kazakhstan, which is why they were completed seven months ahead of schedule. Today, multinational families are preparing to move into new homes. Not only Kazakhs, Russians, Ukrainians, Tatars, Moldavians, Belarusians, but also representatives of all those other nationalities inhabiting Kazakhstan who took part in the construction and completion of these buildings. In particular, the Eskimo, Sagyntai Aibaltaev, the Pashto, Yergeshbay Sarmoldaev, and the Shurshit, Temirbek Sikymov, who have attracted attention with their hard work. And now about this celebratory event…” The people murmured like a disturbed beehive. And only then Pashat realized that he had ruined everything with his thoughtless words, his face flushed with embarrassment and looked like a loaf that had just been taken out