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Updated: June 20, 2025
But some people were not satisfied with this alone, and they wanted to know his full name and then he replied with a certain effort: "Yura Mikhailovich." And after a moment's thought he added: "Yura Mikhailovich Pushkarev." An unusual day arrived. It was mother's birthday.
And on the deserted paths of the garden where but a while ago Yura had wandered alone, imagining himself a prince in quest of the sleeping princess, now appeared people with cigarettes and with loud free speech.
Of course, he must conceal from him of course, he must conceal from him that which happened in the arbour, and he must love him, and he felt that he loved him so much. And with a wild cry Yura rushed over to the bald-headed old man and began to beat him with his fists with all his strength. "Don't you dare insult him! Don't you dare insult him!" O Lord, what has happened!
Yura succeeded in concentrating himself for some time with the greatest difficulty. Together with father he was hanging up the lanterns. And father was charming; he laughed, jested, put Yura on the ladder; he himself climbed the thin, creaking rungs of the ladder, and finally both fell down together with the ladder upon the grass, but they were not hurt.
There was a breath of cold from the dewy grass; the gooseberry bush scratched him, the darkness could not be pierced with his eyes, and there was no end to it. O Lord! Without any definite plan, in a state of utter despair, Yura now crawled toward a mysterious, faintly blinking light.
And now the most joyous thing commenced for Yura the fairy tale. The people and the festival and the lanterns remained on earth, while he soared away, transformed into air, melting in the night like a grain of dust. The great mystery of the night became his mystery, and his little heart yearned for still more mystery; in its solitude his heart yearned for the fusion of life and death.
Both treated their arrival with inexplicable indifference, which called forth a feeling of sadness in Yura. But mamma stirred and said: "Let me go. I must go." "Remember," said father, referring to something Yura did not understand but which resounded in his heart with a light, gnawing alarm. "Stop.
But now she sat as though she were all alone, as though Yura, her son, who was falling asleep, was not there at all she folded her hands in her lap and looked into the distance. To attract her attention Yura stirred, but mamma said briefly: "Sleep." And she continued to look.
He paid no attention to the real Yura Mikhailovich: and now, walking beside Mitenka, he did not seem to realise his guilt; he adjusted his moustaches and maintained silence. He kissed mamma's hand, and that seemed repulsive to little Yura; but the stupid Mitenka also kissed mamma's hand, and thereby set everything aright.
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