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Updated: May 29, 2025
It's nice there." Foma said nothing to this. Then Smolin asked him: "Have you many friends?" "I have none." "Neither did I have any friends before I went to school. Only cousins. Now you'll have two friends at once." "Yes," said Foma. "Are you glad?" "I'm glad." "When you have lots of friends, it is lively. And it is easier to study, too they prompt you." "And are you a good pupil?" "Of course!
And close at Foma's side stood Smolin and whispered in his ear: "Stop, my dear boy! What's the matter with you? Are you out of your wits? They'll do you !" "Get away!" said Foma, firmly, flashing his angry eyes at him. "You go to Mayakin and flatter him, perhaps something will come your way!" Smolin whistled through his teeth and stepped aside.
"What then can be done with it?" asked the old man, shrugging his shoulders. "There's nothing in it but empty talk and agitation. Of course, if the practical people, the merchants themselves, take to writing for it " "The publication of a newspaper," began Smolin, instructively, interrupting the old man, "looked at merely from the commercial point of view, may be a very profitable enterprise.
Just put the thumb-screw on him! And do it well!" Smolin again cast at Lubov a smiling glance, and her heart trembled with joy once more. With flushing face she said to her father, inwardly addressing herself to the bridegroom: "As far as I can understand, African Dmitreivich, he wishes to buy the newspaper not at all for the sake of stopping its mouth as you say."
They all went home from school together, but Yozhov soon turned into some narrow side street, while Smolin walked with Foma up to his very house, and, departing, said: "You see, we both go home the same way, too." At home Foma was met with pomp: his father made him a present of a heavy silver spoon, with an ingenious monogram on it, and his aunt gave him a scarf knitted by herself.
"Oh!" exclaimed Mayakin. "Well, you are young folks, you can have books in your hands." "And do you not take interest in any of the societies?" Smolin asked Lubov. "You have so many different societies here." "Yes," said Lubov with a sigh, "but I live rather apart from everything." "Housekeeping!" interposed the father.
"There are two," Foma smiled, recalling Yozhov. "One of them is so bold terrible!" "Whose is he?" "A guard's son." "Mm! Bold did you say?" "Dreadfully bold!" "Well, let him be! And the other?" "The other one is red-headed. Smolin." "Ah! Evidently Mitry Ivanovitch's son. Stick to him, he's good company. Mitry is a clever peasant. If the son takes after his father it is all right.
"My factory will also turn out leather goods, such as trunks, foot-wear, harnesses, straps and so forth." "And of what per cent, are you dreaming?" "I am not dreaming, I am calculating with all the exactness possible under conditions in Russia," said Smolin, impressively. "The manufacturer should be as strictly practical as the mechanic who is creating a machine.
She began to feel the need of expressing herself before Smolin; she wanted to assure him that she understood the meaning of his words, that she was not an ordinary merchant-daughter, interested in dresses and balls only. Smolin pleased her.
"That makes thirty-five percent. Mm! The fellow's a rogue. Send down thy light and thy truth." "Papa!" exclaimed Lubov, mournfully and with fright. "What?" "You are you pleased with him?" "With whom? "Smolin." "Smolin? Yes, he's a rogue, he's a clever fellow, a splendid merchant! Well, I'm off now. So be on your guard, arm yourself."
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