Perezvon, seeing him in his outdoor clothes, began tapping nervously, yet vigorously, on the floor with his tail. Twitching all over, he even uttered a plaintive whine. But Kolya, seeing his dog’s passionate excitement, decided that it was a breach of discipline, kept him for another minute under the bench, and only when he had opened the door into the passage, whistled for him.
“Well, perhaps so,” Kostya agreed, entirely vanquished. “But you didn’t say so before. So how could I tell?” “Come, kiddies,” said Kolya, stepping into the room. “You’re terrible people, I see.” “And Perezvon with you!” grinned Kostya, and began snapping his fingers and calling Perezvon. “I am in a difficulty, kids,” Krassotkin began solemnly, “and you must help me.
At such moments Kolya would either stare out of the window scowling, or would investigate the state of his boots, or would shout angrily for “Perezvon,” the big, shaggy, mangy dog, which he had picked up a month before, brought home, and kept for some reason secretly indoors, not showing him to any of his schoolfellows.
“Can you really have put off coming all this time simply to train the dog?” exclaimed Alyosha, with an involuntary note of reproach in his voice. “Simply for that!” answered Kolya, with perfect simplicity. “I wanted to show him in all his glory.” “Perezvon! Perezvon,” called Ilusha suddenly, snapping his thin fingers and beckoning to the dog. “What is it? Let him jump up on the bed!
It must have died after a meal like that,” Kolya pronounced pitilessly, though he seemed a little breathless. “But I’ve got a dog, Perezvon ... A Slavonic name.... I’ve brought him to show you.” “I don’t want him!” said Ilusha suddenly. “No, no, you really must see him ... it will amuse you.
“Nothing will make him get up, nothing!” Kolya cried triumphantly, proud of his success. “He won’t move for all the shouting in the world, but if I call to him, he’ll jump up in a minute. Ici, Perezvon!” The dog leapt up and bounded about, whining with delight. The captain ran back with a piece of cooked beef.
“Don’t be afraid, apothecary, my dog won’t bite you,” Kolya rapped out loudly, noticing the doctor’s rather uneasy glance at Perezvon, who was standing in the doorway. There was a wrathful note in Kolya’s voice. He used the word apothecary instead of doctor on purpose, and, as he explained afterwards, used it “to insult him.”
“And as soon as I saw you with a dog, I thought it was Zhutchka you were bringing.” “Wait a bit, Karamazov, perhaps we shall find it yet; but this is Perezvon. I’ll let him go in now and perhaps it will amuse Ilusha more than the mastiff pup. Wait a bit, Karamazov, you will know something in a minute.
Holding up the bag of provisions in her left hand she stood still to watch the dog. Though Kolya had been so anxious for her return, he did not cut short the performance, and after keeping Perezvon dead for the usual time, at last he whistled to him. The dog jumped up and began bounding about in his joy at having done his duty. “Only think, a dog!” Agafya observed sententiously.
You won’t be thrashed for coming with me?” “Come, I say, I’m never thrashed! And you’ve got Perezvon with you?” “Yes.” “You’re taking him, too?” “Yes.” “Ah! if it were only Zhutchka!” “That’s impossible. Zhutchka’s non-existent. Zhutchka is lost in the mists of obscurity.”