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Updated: May 31, 2025
"Not so loud!" said the teacher, wrinkling his yellow face and contracting his fatigued eyes. Yozhov spoke quickly and in a ringing voice: "Now we know that the first peddler made 17k. profit." "Enough! Gordyeeff! Tell me what must we do in order to find out how much the second peddler gained?"
Having established in his article that the merchant rises beyond doubt above the representatives of other classes of society in the matter of nuisance and scandal-making, Yozhov asked: "Why is this so?" and replied: "It seems to me that this predilection for wild pranks comes from the lack of culture in so far as it is dependent upon the excess of energy and upon idleness.
Foma seated himself on a corner of the lounge and said to Yozhov: "I have come to stay here over night." "Well? Go on, Vasily." The latter glanced at Foma askance and went on in a creaking voice: "In my opinion, you are attacking the stupid people in vain. Masaniello was a fool, but what had to be performed was done in the best way possible.
One day Yozhov said to him: "Today we will carouse! Our compositors have formed a union, and they are going to take all the work from the publisher on a contract. There will be some drinking on this account, and I am invited. It was I who advised them to do it. Let us go? You will give them a good treat."
Who will listen to you? Only I!" "Go to the devil!" shouted Yozhov, angrily, jumping away from him as though he had been scorched. And Foma went toward him, and spoke convincingly, with intense sorrow: "Speak! speak to me! I shall carry away your words to the proper place. I understand them. And, ah! how I will scorch the people! Just wait! My opportunity will come."
Just see what a practical newspaper is published here. By the way, we intend to purchase it." "Whom do you mean by You?" asked Mayakin. "I, Urvantzov, Shchukin " "That's praiseworthy!" said the old man, rapping the table with his hand. "That's very practical! It is time to stop their mouths, it was high time long ago! Particularly that Yozhov; he's like a sharp-toothed saw.
"Very well!" said Foma, to whom it was immaterial with whom he passed the time, which was a burden to him. In the evening of that day Foma and Yozhov sat in the company of rough-faced people, on the outskirts of a grove, outside the town.
And before its death this society, cursed by the anathema of inward impotence, will receive my book like incense." Listening to each and every word of his, watching him and comparing his remarks, Foma saw that Yozhov was just as weak as he was, that he, too, had lost his way.
When such a man speaks I say to myself: 'There goes a well-fed, but over-watered mare, all decorated with bells; she's carting a load of rubbish out of the town, and the miserable wretch is content with her fate." "They are superfluous people, then," said Foma. Yozhov stopped short in front of him and said with a biting smile on his lips: "No, they are not superfluous, oh no!
And Yozhov pinched his leg and asked: "Whose son are you? The Frantic's?" "Yes." "So. Do you wish me to prompt you always?" "Yes." "And what will you give me for it?" Foma thought awhile and asked: "And do you know it all yourself?" "I? I am the best pupil. You'll see for yourself." "Hey, there! Yozhov, you are talking again?" cried the teacher, faintly.
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