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Updated: June 10, 2025
But Krassotkin haughtily parried this thrust, pointing out that to play horses with boys of one’s own age, boys of thirteen, would certainly be disgraceful “at this date,” but that he did it for the sake of “the kids” because he liked them, and no one had a right to call him to account for his feelings. The two “kids” adored him. But on this occasion he was in no mood for games.
“Why are you late, female?” asked Krassotkin sternly. “Female, indeed! Go on with you, you brat.” “Brat?” “Yes, a brat. What is it to you if I’m late; if I’m late, you may be sure I have good reason,” muttered Agafya, busying herself about the stove, without a trace of anger or displeasure in her voice. She seemed quite pleased, in fact, to enjoy a skirmish with her merry young master.
And if Krassotkin, who had no suspicion of it, had known what a disastrous and fatal effect such a moment might have on the sick child’s health, nothing would have induced him to play such a trick on him. But Alyosha was perhaps the only person in the room who realized it. As for the captain he behaved like a small child. “Zhutchka!
But the boys remained convinced that Dardanelov did not know who founded Troy. Kolya had read of the founders of Troy in Smaragdov, whose history was among the books in his father’s bookcase. In the end all the boys became interested in the question, who it was that had founded Troy, but Krassotkin would not tell his secret, and his reputation for knowledge remained unshaken.
They were all three silent, still embracing. Nina was crying quietly in her chair, and at last seeing them all crying, “mamma,” too, burst into tears. “Ilusha! Ilusha!” she exclaimed. Krassotkin suddenly released himself from Ilusha’s embrace. “Good-by, old man, mother expects me back to dinner,” he said quickly. “What a pity I did not tell her!
Who’s this?” The doctor flew into a terrible rage. “He is a schoolboy, doctor, he is a mischievous boy; take no notice of him,” said Alyosha, frowning and speaking quickly. “Kolya, hold your tongue!” he cried to Krassotkin. “Take no notice of him, doctor,” he repeated, rather impatiently. “He wants a thrashing, a good thrashing!” The doctor stamped in a perfect fury.
Krassotkin put his hand in his satchel, and pulling out a little bronze cannon stood it on the table. “Ah, you are bound to ask that! Look, it’s on wheels.” He rolled the toy on along the table. “And it can be fired off, too. It can be loaded with shot and fired off.” “And it could kill any one?”
Not on the head but on the chest, just above the heart. He came home crying and groaning and now he is ill.” “And you know he attacks them first. He is bitter against them on your account. They say he stabbed a boy called Krassotkin with a pen-knife not long ago.” “I’ve heard about that too, it’s dangerous. Krassotkin is an official here, we may hear more about it.”
The captain ran eagerly to meet Kolya. “Please come in ... you are welcome!” he said hurriedly. “Ilusha, Mr. Krassotkin has come to see you!” But Krassotkin, shaking hands with him hurriedly, instantly showed his complete knowledge of the manners of good society.
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