How a Coachman Died of Corns in 1830's Imperial Russia

--Count T------ had upbraided Lupin more times than the
Tsaritsa had taken ill when the word "December" was
mentioned to never discuss his corns in the Presence of
a District Councillor. Talk like that was enough to keep
him from the rounds at St. Petersburg for three years!
"Did you hear Count So and So's coachman had corns?",
as laughter rose like a tidal wave over him. These reflections
harried him like flies. For each wince he promised a good knock
for the dogged Lupin. "And just look at the way he shuffled",
thought the Count, "any man could see the poor fellow had them!"
--No,  Nizhny Novgorod wasn't far enough banishment for Lupin's 
mighty corns. They haunted the Count's every waking moment. 
Even in dream he'd pass through the Imperial Halls only to be 
taken to task by His Excellency for the shameful condition of his 
Coachman's feet. In the background the Tsaritsa would feel faint. 
He always ended up in the Caucuses the butt of some Clerk's lampoons 
on "The Famous Count Vaporcornikov". It was insufferable. 
His coachman was undermining him au pied. "What is to be done?" 
he mused as he took another pinch of snuff. He must kill Lupin.
--Count T----- thought up every charge he ever laughed about
in the company of peers at The English Club, where Prince G----
held court, for doing a Coachman or peasant in. The Coachman being
foremost to experience the artistic exuberance of these councils.
The Coachman in Russia was akin to the Concierge in Paris: He knew
everything and remained scrupulously circumspect. Such a delicate
balance was bound to falter at times. Sadly, Russians cannot help such
falterings. Each falter registered seismic consequences spreading from
the provinces to the halls of His Imperial Excellency in St. Petersburg.
--Three years on Lupin died in V---- running the gauntlet of "Two Pipes". 
The happy phrase "Two Pipes" meant poor Lupin was to be
thrashed until the District Governor finished smoking two pipes. And,
of course, he appreciated his tobacco slowly, in the  grande style. 
Count T----- swelled with laughter watching Lupin hobble from
one series of thrashings to the next. It was almost enough to make 
him forget three years of Balls missed in St. Petersburg. Almost.