trough, and with pock-marked hands was splashing the water over him, while she crooned:
"Little lambkin, then, it' s'all be clean. It s'all be white."
Whether it was because the kitchen was light and cheerful, or because the water was warm and caressing, at all events the child was quiet, and wrinkled up its little red face as though about to sneeze. Dunyasha looked at the tub over Matryona's shoulder, and seizing her opportunity, splashed the little one with three fingers.
"Get away!" the old woman cried in a threatening tone, "where are you coming to? I know what to do without your help. I have had children of my own."
"Don't meddle. She's quite right, children are such tender things," said Abram Petrovich, in support of her; "they want some handling."
He sat down on the table, and with condescending satisfaction contemplated the litle rosy body. The baby wriggled its fingers, and Dunyasha with wild delight wagged her head and laughed.
"Just like a police-inspector!"
"But have you seen a police-inspector in a trough?" asked Abram Petrovich.
All laughed, and even Khinyakov smiled; but almost immediately the smile left his face affright, and he looked round at the mother. She was sitting wearily on the bench, with her head thrown back, and her black eyes, abnormally large from sickness and suffering, lighted up with a peace-
