e in the dark
as they galloped over the snow. She sat closer to Vanya, her brother,
and they were both as near as they could get to the door of the
stove, where they could see the red fire burning busily, keeping the
whole hut warm. The stove filled a quarter of the hut, but that was
because it was a bed as well. There were blankets on it, and in those
blankets Vanya and Maroosia rolled up and went to sleep at night, as
warm as little baking cakes.

The hut was made of pine logs cut from the forest. You could see the
marks of the axe. Old Peter was the grandfather of Maroosia and Vanya.
He lived alone with them in the hut in the forest, because their
father and mother were both dead. Maroosia and Vanya could hardly
remember them, and they were very happy with old Peter, who was very
kind to them and did all he could to keep them warm and well fed. He
let them help him in everything, even in stuffing the windows with
moss to keep the cold out when winter began. The moss kept the light
out too, but that did not matter. It would be all the jollier in the
spring when the sun came pouring in.

Besides old Peter and Maroosia and Vanya there were Vladimir and
Bayan. Vladimir was a cat, a big black cat, as stately as an emperor,
and just now he was lying in Vanya's arms fast asleep. Bayan was a
dog, a tall gray wolf-dog. He could jump over the table with a single
bound. When he was in the hut he usually lay underneath the table,
because that was the only place where he could lie without being in
the way. And, of course at meal times he was in the way even there.
Just now he was out with old Peter.

"I wonder what story it will be to-night?" said Maroosia.

"So do I," said Vanya. "I wish they'd be quick and come back."

Vladimir stirred suddenly in Vanya's lap, and a minute later they
heard the scrunch of boots in the snow, and the stamping of old
Peter's feet trying to get the snow off his boots. Then the door
opened, and Bayan pushed his way in and shook himself, and licked
Maroosia and Vanya and startled Vladimir, and lay down under the table
and came out again, because he was so pleased to be home. And old
Peter came in after him, with his gun on his back and a hare in his
hand. He shook himself just like Bayan, and the snow flew off like
spray. He hung up his gun, flung the hare into a corner of the hut,
and laughed.

"You are snug in here, little pigeons," he said.

Vanya and Maroosia had jumped up to welcome him,