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No, my dear Fyodor Lukitch, I am an honest man and never make complimentary speeches. If we pay you five hundred roubles a year it is because you are valued by us. Isn't that so? Gentlemen, what I say is true, isn't it? We should not pay anyone else so much. . . . Why, a good school is an honour to the factory!" "I must sincerely own that your school is really exceptional," said the inspector.
To all you say I can make only one reply: the management of the factory will not be forgetful of what it owes to Fyodor Lukitch! . . ." All were silent. Sysoev raised his eyes to the German's rosy face. "We know how to appreciate it," Bruni went on, dropping his voice.
He tried again the cupola again broke down; he tried the third time -the cupola fell to pieces a third time. Good Eremey Lukitch grew thoughtful; there was something uncanny about it, he reflected... some accursed witchcraft must have a hand in it... and at once he gave orders to flog all the old women in the village. They flogged the old women; but they didn't get the cupola on, for all that.
"Don't think this is flattery. Anyway, I have never come across another like it in my life. As I sat at the examination I was full of admiration. . . . Wonderful children! They know a great deal and answer brightly, and at the same time they are somehow special, unconstrained, sincere. . . . One can see that they love you, Fyodor Lukitch. You are a schoolmaster to the marrow of your bones.
"My sweet, my little one!" said Anna, and she cried as weakly and childishly as he. At that moment the door opened. Vassily Lukitch came in. At the other door there was the sound of steps, and the nurse in a scared whisper said, "He's coming," and gave Anna her hat. Seryozha sank onto the bed and sobbed, hiding his face in his hands.
He was taken with a violent fit of coughing . . . . He was so shaken by it that the cap flew off his head and the stick dropped out of his hand; and when the school inspector and the teachers, hearing his cough, ran out of the house, he was sitting on the bottom step, bathed in perspiration. "Fyodor Lukitch, is that you?" said the inspector, surprised. "You . . . have come?" "Why not?"
FYODOR LUKITCH SYSOEV, the master of the factory school maintained at the expense of the firm of Kulikin, was getting ready for the annual dinner. Every year after the school examination the board of managers gave a dinner at which the inspector of elementary schools, all who had conducted the examinations, and all the managers and foremen of the factory were present.
Of his mother Seryozha did not think all the evening, but when he had gone to bed, he suddenly remembered her, and prayed in his own words that his mother tomorrow for his birthday might leave off hiding herself and come to him. "Vassily Lukitch, do you know what I prayed for tonight extra besides the regular things?" "That you might learn your lessons better?" "No." "Toys?" "No.
"How do you dress without me? How..." she tried to begin talking simply and cheerfully, but she could not, and again she turned away. "I don't have a cold bath, papa didn't order it. And you've not seen Vassily Lukitch? He'll come in soon. Why, you're sitting on my clothes!" And Seryozha went off into a peal of laughter. She looked at him and smiled.
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