Текст книги "The Brothers Karamazov"
Автор книги: Федор Достоевский
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Текущая страница: 48 (всего у книги 70 страниц)
“Oh, I’ve just come for a moment, I’ll go in and keep my coat on. Perezvon will stay here in the entryway and play dead. Ici, Perezvon, couche,and play dead! See, he’s dead. I’ll go in first, check out the situation, and then at the right moment I’ll whistle: Ici, Perezvon! And you’ll see, he’ll come rushing in like mad. Only Smurov must not forget to open the door at that moment. I’ll arrange it, and you’ll see a real stunt...”
Chapter 5: At Ilyusha’s Bedside
The room, already familiar to us, in which the family of our acquaintance retired captain Snegiryov lived was at that moment both stuffy and crowded with a numerous gathering of visitors. This time several boys were sitting with Ilyusha, and though all of them were ready, like Smurov, to deny that it was Alyosha who had reconciled and brought them together with Ilyusha, still it was so. His whole art in this case lay in getting them together one by one, without “sentimental slop,” but as if quite unintentionally and inadvertently. And this brought enormous relief to Ilyusha in his suffering. Seeing an almost tender friendship and concern for him in all these boys, his former enemies, he was very touched. Only Krasotkin was missing, and this lay as a terrible burden on his heart. If in Ilyushechka’s bitter memories there was any that was most bitter, it was precisely the whole episode with Krasotkin, once his sole friend and protector, whom he had then attacked with a knife. So, too, thought the smart lad Smurov (who was the first to come and be reconciled with Ilyusha). But when Smurov remotely mentioned that Alyosha wanted to come and see him “on a certain matter,” Krasotkin at once broke in and cut it short, charging Smurov to inform “Karamazov” immediately that he knew how to act himself, that he asked for no one’s advice, and that if he did go to see the sick boy, he would decide himself when to go, because he had “his own considerations.” That was still about two weeks before this Sunday. And that was why Alyosha had not gone in person to see him, as he had intended. Yet, though he waited a little, he nevertheless sent Smurov to Krasotkin once again, and then a third time. But both times Krasotkin responded with a most impatient and abrupt refusal, asking him to tell Alyosha that if he came in person to get him, then just for that he would never go to see Ilyusha, and that he did not want to be bothered any more. Smurov himself had not known even up to the very last day that Kolya had decided to go and see Ilyusha that morning, and it had only been the previous evening that Kolya, as he was saying good-bye to Smurov, suddenly told him brusquely to wait for him at home the next morning, because he was going to the Snegiryovs’ with him, warning him, however, that he must not dare inform anyone of his coming, because he wanted to arrive unexpectedly. Smurov obeyed. And his hope that Krasotkin would bring the lost Zhuchka, Smurov based on a few words he dropped in passing, “that they were all asses if they couldn’t find the dog, provided it was alive.” But when Smurov, waiting for the right moment, timidly hinted to Krasotkin what he had guessed about the dog, the latter suddenly became terribly angry: “What an ass I’d be to go looking for other people’s dogs all over town, when I’ve got my Perezvon! And who would even dream that a dog could survive after swallowing a pin? It’s sentimental slop, that’s all!”
Meanwhile, for almost two weeks Ilyusha had not left his little bed in the corner near the icons. And he had not gone to classes since the time he had met Alyosha and bitten his finger. Incidentally, it was on that same day that he had become sick, though for another month he was somehow able occasionally to walk around the room and entryway when he occasionally got up from his bed. Finally he grew quite weak, so that he could not move without his father’s help. His father trembled over him, even stopped drinking entirely, became almost crazy from fear that his boy would die, and often, especially after leading him around the room by the arm and putting him back to bed, would run out to the entryway, to a dark corner, and, leaning his forehead against the wall, would begin to weep, shaking and sobbing uncontrollably, stifling his voice so that his sobs would not be heard by Ilyushechka.
Then, coming back into the room, he would usually start amusing and comforting his dear boy with something, would tell him stories, funny jokes, or mimic various funny people he had chanced to meet, even imitating animals with their funny howls or cries. But Ilyusha disliked it very much when his father clowned and presented himself as a buffoon. Though the boy tried not to show that he found it unpleasant, it pained his heart to realize that his father was socially humiliated, and he never for a moment forgot the “whiskbroom” and that “terrible day.” Ninochka, llyushechka’s crippled, quiet, and meek sister, also did not like it when their lather started clowning (as for Varvara Nikolaevna, she had long since returned to the university in Petersburg), but the half-witted mama was greatly amused, and laughed heartily when her husband began acting something out or making funny gestures. It was the only thing that could comfort her, and the rest of the time she spent grumbling and complaining constantly that everyone had forgotten her now, that no one respected her, that they offended her, and so on and so forth. But in the very last few days, she, too, had quite changed, as it were. She began looking frequently at Ilyusha in his little corner, and grew thoughtful. She grew much more silent, quiet, and if she began to cry, it was softly, so as not to be heard. With bitter perplexity, the captain noticed this change in her. At first she did not like the boys’ visits, which only made her angry, but later their cheerful voices and stories began to amuse her, too, and in the end she liked it so much that, if the boys had stopped coming, she would sorely have missed them. When the children told something or started playing, she laughed and clapped her hands. She would call some of them over and kiss them. She came especially to love the boy Smurov. As for the captain, the appearance in his lodgings of children who had come to entertain Ilyusha from the very beginning filled his soul with rapturous joy, and even with hope that Ilyusha would stop being sad now, and would perhaps recover sooner because of it. Until very recently, he never doubted, not for a single moment, despite all his fear for Ilyusha, that his boy would suddenly recover. He met the little guests with reverence, hovered around them, waited on them, was ready to give them rides on his back, and indeed even started giving them rides, but Ilyusha did not like these games and they were abandoned. He began buying treats for them, gingerbread, nuts, served tea, made sandwiches. It should be noted that all this time he was never without money. He had accepted the two hundred roubles from Katerina Ivanovna, exactly as Alyosha predicted. And then Katerina Ivanovna, learning in more detail about their situation and about Ilyusha’s illness, visited their home herself, became acquainted with the whole family, and even managed to charm the captain’s half-witted wife. Since then she had been unstinting in her help to them; and the captain, overwhelmed with terror at the thought that his boy might die, forgot his former hauteur and humbly accepted her alms. All this while Dr. Herzenstube, at Katerina Ivanovna’s invitation, kept coming to see the sick boy, but little good came of his visits, and he simply stuffed him full of medications. But, on the other hand, they were expecting at the captain’s that day—that is, that same Sunday morning—a new doctor, visiting from Moscow, who was considered a celebrity there. Katerina Ivanovna had written specially and invited him from Moscow for a large sum—not for Ilyushechka, but for another purpose, of which more will be said below in the proper place, but since he had come anyway, she asked him to see Ilyushechka as well, and the captain had been forewarned. But he did not at all anticipate the arrival of Kolya Krasotkin, though he had long wished for a visit, finally, from this boy who was the cause of such torment to his Ilyushechka. At the moment when Krasotkin opened the door and appeared in the room, everyone, the captain and all the boys, was crowded around the sick boy’s bed, looking at the tiny mastiff pup, just brought in, that had been born just the day before, but had been ordered by the captain a week earlier to amuse and comfort Ilyushechka, who kept grieving over the vanished and, of course, by now dead Zhuchka. But though Ilyusha, who had already heard and knew three days before that he was to be given a little dog, and not simply a dog but a real mastiff (which, of course, was terribly important), had, from fine and delicate feeling, expressed joy at the present, still everyone, both his father and the boys, could see clearly that the new dog stirred perhaps even more strongly in his heart the memory of the unfortunate Zhuchka, whom he had tormented to death. The puppy lay and fumbled about at his side, and he, with a sickly smile, was stroking it with his thin, pale, withered little hand; one could see that he even liked the dog, but still ... it was not Zhuchka, Zhuchka was not there, but if there could be both Zhuchka and the puppy together, then there would be complete happiness!
“Krasotkin!” one of the boys suddenly cried, the first to notice that Kolya had come in. There was visible excitement, the boys stepped back and stood on either side of the little bed, so that suddenly Ilyushechka was in full view. The captain rushed impetuously to meet Kolya.
“Come in, come in ... dear guest!”he prattled to him. “Ilyushechka, Mr. Krasotkin has come to see you ...”
But Krasotkin, having given him a quick handshake, at once also displayed his extraordinary knowledge of social propriety. Immediately and before anything else, he addressed the captain’s wife, sitting in her chair (who just at that moment was terribly displeased and was grumbling because the boys were standing in front of Ilyusha’s bed and would not let her look at the new dog), and with extraordinary courtesy bent before her, and then, turning to Ninochka, gave her, as a lady, the same sort of bow. This courteous behavior made a remarkably pleasing impression on the sick lady.
“One can always tell at once a well-bred young man,” she spoke loudly, spreading her arms, “not like our other visitors: they come riding in on each other.”
“How do you mean, mama, how do they come riding in on each other?” the captain murmured, tenderly but still a little apprehensive about “mama.”
“They just ride right in. One sits on another’s shoulders in the entryway, and they come riding in like that, to see respectable people. What sort of visitor is that?”
“But who, who came in like that, mama, who was it?”
“This boy came riding in on that boy today, and this one on that one...”
But Kolya was already standing by Ilyusha’s little bed. The sick boy turned visibly pale. He rose on his bed and looked very, very attentively at Kolya. It was two months since Kolya had seen his former little friend, and he suddenly stopped before him, completely struck: he could not even have imagined seeing such a thin and yellow little face, such eyes, which burned with fever and seemed to have become terribly big, such thin arms. With sorrowful surprise he noticed how heavily and rapidly Ilyusha breathed, how dry his lips were. He took a step towards him, gave him his hand, and, almost completely at a loss, said:
“Well, so, old man ... how are you?”
But his voice broke, he could not muster enough nonchalance, his face somehow suddenly twitched, and something trembled around his lips. Ilyusha kept smiling wanly, still unable to say a word. Kolya suddenly reached out and for some reason stroked Ilyusha’s hair with his hand.
“Never mind!” he murmured softly to him, perhaps to encourage him, or else not knowing himself why he said it. They were silent for another minute.
“What’s this, a new puppy?” Kolya suddenly asked, in a most unfeeling voice.
“Ye-e-es!” Ilyusha answered in a long whisper, breathlessly.
“A black nose means he’s a fierce sort, a watchdog,” Kolya observed imposingly and firmly, as if everything had to do precisely with the puppy and its black nose. But the main thing was that he was still trying with all his might to overcome the emotion he felt and not to start crying like a “little boy,” and still could not overcome it. “When he grows up, you’ll have to keep him on a chain, I can tell you that.”
“He’ll be huge!” one boy in the group exclaimed.
“He sure will, he’s a mastiff, huge, like this, big as a calf,” several voices were suddenly heard.
“Big as a calf, a real calf,” the captain jumped over to them. “I picked one like that on purpose, the fiercest, and his parents are huge, too, and really fierce, this high off the ground ... Sit down, sir, here on Ilyusha’s bed, or else on the bench here. Welcome, our dear guest, our long-awaited guest ... Did you come with Alexei Fyodorovich, sir?”
Krasotkin sat down on the bed at Ilyusha’s feet. Though he had perhaps prepared a way of casually beginning the conversation while coming there, he had now decidedly lost the thread.
“No ... I came with Perezvon ... I have a dog now, named Perezvon. A Slavic name. He’s waiting outside ... A whistle from me, and he’ll come flying in. I came with a dog, too,” he suddenly turned to Ilyusha. “Do you remember Zhuchka, old man?” he suddenly hit him with the question.
Ilyushechka’s face twisted. He looked with suffering at Kolya. Alyosha, who was standing by the door, frowned and shook his head at Kolya on the sly that he should not begin talking about Zhuchka, but he either did not notice or did not want to notice.
“Where is ... Zhuchka?” Ilyusha asked in a strained voice.
“Well, brother, your Zhuchka—whe-ew! Your Zhuchka’s a goner!”
Ilyusha said nothing, but once more looked very, very attentively at Kolya. Alyosha, catching Kolya’s eye, again shook his head as hard as he could, but again Kolya looked away and pretended not to notice.
“She ran off somewhere and died. How could she not, after such an appetizer,” Kolya slashed mercilessly, at the same time becoming breathless himself for some reason. “But I’ve got Perezvon instead ... A Slavic name ... I’ve brought him for you ...”
“Don’t!” Ilyushechka suddenly said.
“No, no, I will, you must see ... It will amuse you. I brought him on purpose ... he’s as shaggy as she was ... Will you permit me, madame, to call my dog here?” he suddenly addressed Mrs. Snegiryov, now quite inconceivably excited.
“Don’t, don’t!” exclaimed Ilyusha, with a rueful strain in his voice. His eyes burned with reproach.
“Perhaps, sir,” the captain suddenly darted up from the chest by the wall, where he had just sat down, “perhaps, sir ... some other time, sir ... ,”he prattled, but Kolya, persisting unrestrainably and in haste, suddenly shouted to Smurov: “Smurov, open the door!” and the moment Smurov opened it, he blew his whistle. Perezvon dashed headlong into the room.
“Up, Perezvon, on your hind legs! On your hind legs!” Kolya shouted, jumping from his seat, and the dog, getting on its hind legs, stood straight up right in front of Ilyusha’s bed. Something took place that no one expected: Ilyusha started, and suddenly made a great lunge forward, bent down to Perezvon, and, as if frozen, looked at him.
“It’s ... Zhuchka!” he cried out suddenly, his voice cracked with suffering and happiness.
“Who else did you think it was?” Krasotkin shouted with all his might, in a ringing, happy voice, and bending down to the dog, he seized him and lifted him up to Ilyusha.
“Look, old man, you see, he’s lost one eye, and there’s a little nick on his left ear, exactly the marks you described to me. I found him by those marks! I found him right then, very quickly. He didn’t belong to anybody, he didn’t belong to anybody!” he explained, quickly turning to the captain, to his wife, to Alyosha, and then back to Ilyusha. “He lived in the Fedotovs’ backyard, made his home there, but they didn’t feed him, he’s a runaway, he ran away from some village ... So I found him ... You see, old man, it means he didn’t swallow your piece of bread that time. If he had, he’d surely have died, surely! It means he managed to spit it out, since he’s alive now. And you didn’t even notice him spit it out. He spat it out, but it still pricked his tongue, that’s why he squealed then. He was running and squealing, and you thought he’d swallowed it completely. He must really have squealed, because dogs have very tender skin in their mouths ... more tender than a man’s, much more tender!” Kolya exclaimed frenziedly, his face flushed and beaming with rapture.
And Ilyusha could not even speak. White as a sheet, he stared open-mouthed at Kolya, his big eyes somehow bulging terribly. And if the unsuspecting Krasotkin had only known what a tormenting and killing effect such a moment could have on the sick boy’s health, he would never have dared pull such a trick as he just had. But perhaps the only one in the room who did realize it was Alyosha. As for the captain, he seemed to have turned into a very little boy.
“Zhuchka! So it’s Zhuchka?” he kept crying out in a blissful voice. “Ilyushechka, it’s Zhuchka, your Zhuchka! Mama, it’s Zhuchka!” he all but wept.
“And I never guessed!” Smurov exclaimed ruefully. “That’s Krasotkin! I said he’d find Zhuchka, and he did find her!”
“He did find her!” someone else joyfully echoed.
“Bravo, Krasotkin!” a third voice rang out.
“Bravo, bravo!” the boys all cried and began to applaud.
“But wait, wait,” Krasotkin made an effort to outshout them all, “let me tell you how it happened, what counts is how it happened, not anything else! Because I found him, dragged him home and hid him immediately, and locked up the house, and I didn’t show him to anyone till the very last day. Only Smurov found out two weeks ago, but I assured him it was Perezvon and he never suspected, and in the meantime I taught Zhuchka all kinds of clever things, you should see, you should just see what tricks he can do! I taught him so as to bring him to you, old man, already sleek and well-trained, and say: here, old man, look at your Zhuchka now! If you’ve got a little piece of beef, he’ll show you a trick now that will make you fall down laughing—beef, a little piece, have you got any?”
The captain dashed impetuously across the hall to the landlady’s room, where his food was also prepared. And Kolya, not to lose precious time, in a desperate hurry, cried “Play dead!” to Perezvon. Perezvon suddenly spun around, lay on his back, and stayed stock still with all four legs in the air. The boys all laughed, Ilyusha watched with the same suffering smile, but “mama” liked the way Perezvon died more than anyone. She burst out laughing at the dog and began snapping her fingers and calling:
“Perezvon, Perezvon!”
“He won’t get up, not for anything, not for anything,” Kolya shouted, triumphant and justly proud. “The whole world can shout all it wants, but if I shout, he’ll jump up at once! Ici, Perezvon!”
The dog jumped up and began leaping and squealing with joy. The captain ran in with a piece of boiled beef.
“It’s not hot, is it?” Kolya inquired hastily, in a businesslike manner, taking the piece. “No, it’s not—because dogs don’t like hot things. Look, everyone, Ilyushechka, look, come on, look, look, old man, why aren’t you looking? I brought him, and he doesn’t look!”
The new trick consisted in getting the dog to stand motionlessly with his nose held out, and putting the tasty piece of beef right on the tip of it. The unfortunate dog had to stand without moving, with the meat on his nose, for as long as the master ordered, not moving, not budging, even for half an hour. But Perezvon was kept only for a brief moment.
“Fetch!” cried Kolya, and in a second the piece flew from Perezvon’s nose into his mouth. The audience, naturally, expressed rapturous amazement.
“And can it be, can it be that you refused to come all this time only in order to train the dog!” Alyosha exclaimed with involuntary reproach.
“That’s precisely the reason,” Kolya shouted in the most naive way. “I wanted to show him in all his glory!”
“Perezvon! Perezvon!” Ilyusha suddenly began snapping his thin fingers, calling the dog.
“What do you want? Let him jump up on the bed himself. Ici, Perezvon!” Kolya patted the bed, and Perezvon flew like an arrow up to Ilyusha. The boy impetuously hugged his head with both arms, and in return Perezvon immediately gave him a lick on the cheek. Ilyusha pressed himself to the dog, stretched out on his bed, and hid his face from them all in its shaggy fur.
“Lord, Lord!” the captain kept exclaiming.
Kolya sat down again on Ilyusha’s bed.
“Ilyusha, there’s something else I can show you. I’ve brought you a little cannon. Remember, I told you one time about this cannon, and you said: ‘Ah, I wish I could see it! ‘ So, now I’ve brought it.”
And Kolya hurriedly pulled the little bronze cannon out of his bag. He was hurrying because he himself was very happy: another time he would have waited until the effect produced by Perezvon had worn off, but now he hastened on, heedless of all self-control: “You’re already happy as it is, well, here’s some more happiness for you!” He himself was in complete ecstasy.
“I spotted this thing for you long ago at the official Morozov’s—for you, old man, for you. It was just sitting there uselessly, he got it from his brother, so I traded him a book for it, A Kinsman of Mahomet, or Healing Folly, [279]that was in my papa’s bookcase. It’s a dirty book, published in Moscow a hundred years ago, even before there was any censorship, and just the sort of thing Morozov loves. He even thanked me...”
Kolya held the cannon up in his hand before them all, so that they could all see and delight in it. Ilyusha rose a little, and, still hugging Perezvon with his right arm, studied the toy with admiration. The effect reached its peak when Kolya announced that he had powder as well, and that it would be possible to fire the cannon right then, “if it wouldn’t be too upsetting for the ladies.” “Mama” immediately asked to have a closer look at the cannon, which was granted at once. She liked the little bronze cannon on wheels terribly much and began rolling it across her knees. To the request for permission to fire it, she responded with full consent, having no notion, however, of what she had been asked. Kolya produced the powder and the shot. The captain, as a former military man, saw to the loading himself, poured in a very small quantity of powder, and asked to save the shot for some other time. The cannon was put on the floor, the barrel aimed into empty space, three grains of powder were squeezed into the touch-hole, and it was set off with a match. There was a most spectacular bang. Mama jumped at first, but immediately laughed with joy. The boys gazed in speechless triumph, but most blissfully happy was the captain as he looked at Ilyusha. Kolya took the little cannon and at once presented it to Ilyusha, together with the powder and shot.
“It’s for you, for you! I got it for you long ago,” he repeated once more, in the fullness of happiness. “Ah, give it to me! No, you’d better give the little cannon to me!” mama suddenly began begging like a little girl. Her face wore an expression of sad anxiety for fear they would not give it to her. Kolya was embarrassed. The captain became anxiously worried.
“Mama, mama!” he jumped over to her, “the cannon is yours, yours, but let Ilyusha keep it, because it’s his present, but it’s the same as if it was yours, Ilyushechka will always let you play with it, it can belong to both of you, both...”
“No, I don’t want it to be both of ours, no, I want it to be just mine and not Ilyusha’s,” mama went on, getting ready to cry in earnest.
“Take it, mama, here, take it!” Ilyusha suddenly cried. “Krasotkin, may I give it to mama?” he suddenly turned to Krasotkin with a pleading look, as if he were afraid Krasotkin might be offended if he gave his present to someone else.
“Perfectly possible!” Krasotkin agreed at once, and, taking the little cannon from Ilyusha, he himself handed it to mama with a most polite bow. She even burst into tears, she was so moved.
“Ilyushechka, dear, he loves his dear mama!” she exclaimed tenderly, and immediately began rolling the cannon across her knees again.
“Mama, let me kiss your hand,” her husband jumped close to her and at once carried out his intention.
“And if anyone is the nicest young man of all, it’s this kind boy!” the grateful lady said, pointing to Krasotkin.
“And I’ll bring you as much powder as you want, Ilyusha. We make our own powder now. Borovikov found out the ingredients: twenty-four parts saltpeter, ten parts sulphur, and six of birch charcoal; grind it all together, add some water, mix it into a paste, and rub it through a sieve—and you’ve got powder.”
“Smurov already told me about your powder, only papa says it’s not real powder,” Ilyusha replied.
“What do you mean, not real?” Kolya blushed. “It burns all right. However, I don’t know ...”
“No, sir, it’s nothing, sir,” the captain suddenly jumped over to them with a guilty look. “I did say that real powder is not made like that, but it’s nothing, you can do it like that, sir.”
“I don’t know, you know better. We burned it in a stone pomade jar, it burned well, it all burned away, there was only a little soot left. And that was just the paste, but if you rub it through a sieve ... However, you know better, I don’t know ... And Bulkin got a whipping from his father because of our powder, did you hear?” he suddenly addressed Ilyusha. “I did,” Ilyusha replied. He was listening to Kolya with infinite curiosity and delight.
“We made a whole bottle of powder, he kept it under his bed. His father saw it. It might explode, he said. And he whipped him right then and there. He wanted to make a complaint about me to the school. Now they won’t let him have anything to do with me, no one is allowed to have anything to do with me now. Smurov isn’t allowed either, I’ve become notorious with everybody; they say I’m a ‘desperado,’ “ Kolya grinned scornfully. “It all started with the railway.”
“Ah, we’ve also heard about that exploit of yours!” exclaimed the captain. “How did you manage to lie there through it? And can it be that you weren’t afraid at all while you were lying under the train? Weren’t you scared, sir?”
The captain was fawning terribly on Kolya.
“N-not particularly!” Kolya replied nonchalantly. “What really botched my reputation around here was that cursed goose,” he again turned to Ilyusha. But though he put on a nonchalant air while he was talking, he still could not control himself and was continually thrown off pitch, as it were.
“Ah, I’ve heard about the goose, too!” Ilyusha laughed, beaming all over. “They told me about it, but I didn’t understand, did they really take you in front of the judge?”
“It was the most brainless, the most insignificant thing, from which, as usual here, they concocted a whole mountain,” Kolya began casually. “I was going across the market square one day, and they’d just driven in some geese. I stopped and looked at the geese. Suddenly a local fellow, Vishnyakov, he’s working as an errand boy for Plotnikov’s now, looked at me and said. ‘What are you looking at the geese for?’ I looked at him: the fellow was no more than twenty, a stupid, round mug, I never reject the people, you know. I like to be with the people ... We lag behind the people—that is an axiom—you seem to be laughing, Karamazov?”
“No, God forbid, I’m listening carefully,” Alyosha replied with a most guileless look, and the insecure Kolya was immediately reassured.
“My theory, Karamazov, is clear and simple,” he at once hurried joyfully on again, “I believe in the people and am always glad to do them justice, but I’m by no means for spoiling them, that is a sine qua ...Yes, about the goose. So I turned to the fool and answered him: I’m thinking about what the goose might be thinking about. ‘ He gave me a completely stupid look: And what,’ he said, ‘is the goose thinking about?’ ‘Do you see that cart full of oats?’ I said. ‘The oats are spilling from the sack, and the goose has stretched his neck out right under the wheel and is pecking up the grains—do you see?’ ‘I see all right,’ he said. ‘Well,’ I said, if the cart rolled forward a bit now —would it break the goose’s neck or not?’ ‘Sure it would,’ he said, and he was already grinning from ear to ear, he was melting all over. ‘So let’s do it, man, come on.’ ‘Yeah, let’s do it,’ he said. And it was easy enough to set up: he stood near the bridle on the sly, and I stood beside the cart to direct the goose. And the peasant got distracted just then, he was talking with someone, so that I didn’t even have to direct: the goose stretched his neck out to get the oats, under the cart, right under the wheel. I winked at the fellow, he gave a tug, and—cr-r-ack, the wheel rolled right across the middle of the goose’s neck. But it just so happened that at that very second all the peasants saw us, and they all started squawking at once: ‘You did it on purpose!”No, I didn’t. ‘ ‘Yes, you did! ‘ Then they squawked: ‘To the justice of the peace with him!’ They took me along, too: ‘You were there, you helped him, the whole marketplace knows you!’ And indeed, for some reason the whole marketplace does know me,” Kolya added vainly. “We all went to the justice of the peace, and they brought the goose along, too. I could see that my fellow was afraid; he started howling, really, howling like a woman. And the poultryman was shouting: ‘You could run over all the geese in the market that way! ‘ Well, of course there were witnesses. The justice wrapped it up in no time: the poultryman got a rouble for the goose, and the fellow got the goose. And he was never to allow himself such jokes in the future. And the fellow kept howling like a woman: It wasn’t me, he made me do it,’ and he pointed at me. I answered with complete equanimity that I had by no means made him do it, that I had merely stated the basic idea and was speaking only hypothetically. Judge Nefedov chuckled, and was immediately angry with himself for having chuckled: ‘I shall send a report to your authorities at once,’ he said to me, ‘so that in future you will not fall into such hypotheses instead of sitting over your books and learning your lessons.’ He didn’t report to the authorities, it was a joke, but the thing got around and reached the ears of the authorities anyway, we have long ears here! The classics teacher, Kolbasnikov, was particularly incensed, but Dardanelov stood up for me again. And Kolbasnikov is mad at everybody now, like a green ass. You must have heard he got married, Ilyusha, picked up a thousand roubles in dowry from the Mikhailovs, and the bride is a real eyesore, first-rate and to the last degree. The boys in the third class immediately wrote an epigram:
