as he walked, but hung down as if they were
straight sticks, and he strode along in a wooden way, after the
manner of toy soldiers, almost without bending his knees, and trying
to take as long steps as possible. While the old man or the owner
of the spongy swelling were taking two steps he succeeded in taking
only one, and so it seemed as though he were walking more slowly
than any of them, and would drop behind. His face was tied up in a
rag, and on his head something stuck up that looked like a monk's
peaked cap; he was dressed in a short Little Russian coat, with
full dark blue trousers and bark shoes.

Yegorushka did not even distinguish those that were farther on. He
lay on his stomach, picked a little hole in the bale, and, having
nothing better to do, began twisting the wool into a thread. The
old man trudging along below him turned out not to be so stern as
one might have supposed from his face. Having begun a conversation,
he did not let it drop.

"Where are you going?" he asked, stamping with his feet.

"To school," answered Yegorushka.

"To school? Aha! . . . Well, may the Queen of Heaven help you. Yes.
One brain is good, but two are better. To one man God gives one
brain, to another two brains, and to another three. . . . To another
three, that is true. . . . One brain you are born with, one you get
from learning, and a third with a good life. So you see, my lad,
it is a good thing if a man has three brains. Living is easier for
him, and, what's more, dying is, too. Dying is, too. . . . And we
shall all die for sure."

The old man scratched his forehead, glanced upwards at Yegorushka
with his red eyes, and went on:

"Maxim Nikolaitch, the gentleman from Slavyanoserbsk, brought a
little lad to school, too, last year. I don't know how he is getting
on there in studying the sciences, but he was a nice good little
lad. . . . God give them help, they are nice gentlemen. Yes, he,
too, brought his boy to school. . . . In Slavyanoserbsk there is
no establishment, I suppose, for study. No. . . . But it is a nice
town. . . . There's an ordinary school for simple folks, but for
the higher studies there is nothing. No, that's true. What's your
name? . . ."

"Yegorushka."

"Yegory, then. . . . The holy martyr Yegory, the Bearer of Victory,
whose day is the twenty-third of April. And my christian name is
Panteley, . . . Panteley Zaharov Holodov. . . . We are Holodovs
. . . . I am a native of--maybe you've hear