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The landowner arrives at his estate. The next day, he goes with the manager and inspects his property. They walk along a path that unexpectedly leads to a stream.
"Listen, Prokhor," the landowner says to the manager, "by the time I come to the estate next, make sure we can cross this stream without getting wet – build a bridge, or at least throw a simple plank across, but don't spoil such a pleasant walk."
In short, the landowner spent a week drinking at this estate and then left. A year later, he comes back again, and they do another inspection with the manager. They approach the stream, but there's nothing there. The landowner sighs and, without saying a word, slaps the manager on the ear. The manager falls, and the landowner silently walks away. The next day, the landowner goes hunting, approaches the stream in his болотные сапоги (rubber boots), and there's a beautifully painted bridge.
He calls the manager:
"Listen, Prokhor. How is it that you couldn't throw a plank across in a year, but you managed to build this in one night, something that some people couldn't do in a year?"
"There wasn't a clear order, sir."
:smile25: