ant's external appearance; he agreed: but my proposal that he should describe what the peasant thought while his wife was gone to her neighbor's immediately brought up in his mind this idea:—
"Ekh! woman! if you should meet the dead Savoska, he would tear your hair out."
And he said this in such a weary and calmly naturally serious, and at the same time good-natured, tone of voice, leaning his head on his hand, that the children went into a gale of laughter.
The chief condition of every art—the feeling of proportion—was extraordinarily developed in him. He was wholly upset by any superfluous suggestion made by any of the boys. He took it upon himself to direct the construction of this story in such a despotic way, and with such a just claim to be despotic, that very soon the boys went home, and he alone was left with Semka, who did not give way to him, though he worked in a different manner.
We worked from seven to eleven o'clock; the children felt neither hunger nor weariness, and they were really indignant with me when I stopped writing; then they tried to take turns in writing by themselves, but they soon desisted—the thing did not work.
Here for the first time Fedka asked me what my name was. We laughed at him, because he did not know.
"I know," said he, "how to address you; but what do they call your estate name?[1] You know we have the Fokanuichef family, the Zabrefs, the Yermilinas."
I told him.
"And are we going to be printed?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Then it must be printed: The work of Makarof, Morozof, and Tolstoï!"
He was excited for a long time, and could not sleep; and I cannot represent the feeling of excitement, of pleasure, of pain, and almost of remorse which I experienced in the course of that evening. I felt that
- ↑ Dvor-to vash.
