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Updated: May 21, 2025
A small pot was hanging over one of the fires; in it potatoes were cooking. Pavlusha was looking after them, and on his knees he was trying them by poking a splinter of wood into the boiling water. Fedya was lying leaning on his elbow, and smoothing out the skirts of his coat. Ilyusha was sitting beside Kostya, and still kept blinking constrainedly.
Look, gentlemen, at this round, good-natured face; glance at this mild, beaming smile... don't you really feel it reassuring, yourselves? His father used at long intervals to drive over to Lutchinovka, and on holidays used to bring with him his Pavlusha, whom the little Lutchinovs teased in every possible way.
'There are always a good many of them here, answered Pavel; 'but they are only troublesome in the winter. He crouched down again before the fire. As he sat down on the ground, he laid his hand on the shaggy head of one of the dogs. For a long while the flattered brute did not turn his head, gazing sidewise with grateful pride at Pavlusha. Vanya lay down under his rug again.
She busied herself about the table gathering the dishes together, satisfied and even glowing with a pleasurable agitation. She was glad that everything had gone so well and had ended peaceably. "You arranged it nicely, Pavlusha. They certainly are good people. The Little Russian is such a hearty fellow. And the young lady, what a bright, wise girl she is! Who is she?"
All were silent for a little. 'Well, inquired Fedya, 'are the potatoes done? Pavlusha tried them. 'No, they are raw.... My, what a splash! he added, turning his face in the direction of the river; 'that must be a pike.... And there's a star falling. 'I say, I can tell you something, brothers, began Kostya, in a shrill little voice; 'listen what my dad told me the other day.
Their barking quickly grew fainter in the distance.... There was the noise of the uneasy tramp of the frightened drove of horses. Pavlusha shouted aloud: 'Hey Grey!
'That was a heron's cry, replied Pavel tranquilly. 'A heron, repeated Kostya.... 'And what was it, Pavlusha, I heard yesterday evening, he added, after a short pause; 'you perhaps will know. 'What did you hear? 'I will tell you what I heard.
His flaxen almost white hair hung out in thin wisps under his low felt hat, which he kept pulling down with both hands over his ears. He had on new bast-shoes and leggings; a thick string, wound three times round his figure, carefully held together his neat black smock. Neither he nor Pavlusha looked more than twelve years old.
The second boy, Pavlusha, had tangled black hair, grey eyes, broad cheek- bones, a pale face pitted with small-pox, a large but well-cut mouth; his head altogether was large 'a beer-barrel head, as they say and his figure was square and clumsy.
Up to fifteen at least Pavlusha was undeveloped and idle at his lessons, so much so that they thought of taking him away from the clerical school and putting him into a shop; one day, going to the post at Obnino for letters, he had stared a long time at the post-office clerks and asked: "Allow me to ask, how do you get your salary, every month or every day?"
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