“There you are!
That is good handwork. My godchild made it for me.
Well, good-by.
Read books; that is the best thing you can do.”
He took me under the arms, lifted me up, kissed me, and placed me firmly on the jetty.
I was sorry for him and for myself. I could hardly keep from crying when I saw him returning to the steamer, pushing aside the porters, looking so large, heavy, solitary.
So many times since then I have met people like him, kind, lonely, cut off from the lives of other people.
CHAPTER VII
GRANDFATHER and grandmother had again gone into the town.
I went to them, prepared to be angry and warlike; but my heart was heavy. Why had they accounted me a thief 9
Grandmother greeted me tenderly, and at once went to prepare the samovar. Grandfather asked as mockingly as usual:
“Have you saved much money?”
“What there is belongs to me,” I answered, taking a seat by the window.
I triumphantly produced a box of cigarettes from my pocket and began to smoke importantly.
“So-o-o,” said grandfather, looking at me fixedly — “so that’s it!
You smoke the devil’s poison?
Isn’t it rather soon?”
“Why, I have even had a pouch given to me,” I boasted.
“A pouch?” squeaked grandfather.
“What! Are you saying this to annoy me?”
He rushed upon me, with his thin, strong hands out-stretched, his green eyes flashing. I leaped up, and stuck my head into his stomach. The old man sat on the floor, and for several oppressive moments looked at me, amazedly blinking, his dark mouth open. Then he asked quietly:
“You knock me down, your grandfather?
The father of your mother?”
“You have knocked me about enough in the past,” I muttered, not understanding that I had acted abominably.
Withered and light, grandfather rose from the floor, sat beside me, deftly snatched the cigarette from me, threw it out of the window, and said in a tone of fear:
“You mad fool! Don’t you understand that God will punish you for this for the rest of your life?
Mother,” — he turned to grandmother, — “did you see that? He knocked me down — he!
Knocked me down!
Ask him!”
She did not wait to ask. She simply came over to me, seized me by the hair, and beat me, saying:
“And for that — take this — and this!”
I was not hurt, but I felt deeply insulted, especially by grandfather’s laughter. He jumped on a chair, slapped his legs with his hands, and croaked through his laughter:
“Th-a-t’s right! Tha-a-t’s right!”
I tore myself away, and ran out to the shed, where I lay in a comer crushed, desolate, listening to the singing of the samovar.
Then grandmother came to me, bent over me, and whispered hardly audibly:
“You must forgive me, for I purposely did not hurt you.
I could not do otherwise than I did, for grandfather is an old man. He has to be treated with care. He has fractured some of his small bones, and, besides, sorrow has eaten into his heart. You must never do him any harm.
You are not a little boy now. You must remember that.
You must, Oleshal He is like a child, and nothing more.”
Her words laved me like warm water. That friendly whisper made me feel ashamed of myself, and, light-hearted, I embraced her warmly. We kissed.
“Go to him. Go along.
It is all right, only don’t smoke before him yet. Give him time to get used to the idea.”
I went back to the room, glanced at grandfather, and could hardly keep from laughing. He really was as pleased as a child. He was radiant, twisting his feet, and running his paws through his red hair as he sat by the table.
“Well, goat, have you come to butt me again?
Ach, you — brigand!
Just like your father!
Freemason! You come back home, never cross yourself, and start smoking at once. Ugh, you — Bonaparte! you copeck’s worth of goods!”
I said nothing.
He had exhausted his supply of words and was silent from fatigue. But at tea he began to lecture me.
“The fear of God is necessary to men.; it is like a bridle to a horse.