positively dissatisfied with his godson. He frowned
and in an angry manner ordered his daughter, who was silently pouring
out tea:

"Push the sugar nearer to me. Don't you see that I can't reach it?"

Lubov's face was pale, her eyes seemed troubled, and her hands moved
lazily and awkwardly. Foma looked at her and thought:

"How meek she is in the presence of her father."

"What did he speak to you about?" asked Mayakin.

"About sins."

"Well, of course! His own affair is dearest to each and every man. And
he is a manufacturer of sins. Both in the galleys and in hell they have
long been weeping and longing for him, waiting for him impatiently."

"He speaks with weight," said Foma, thoughtfully, stirring his tea.

"Did he abuse me?" inquired Mayakin, with a malicious grimace.

"Somewhat."

"And what did you do?"

"I listened."

"Mm! And what did you hear?"

"'The strong,' he says, 'will be forgiven; but there is no forgiveness
for the weak.'"

"Just think of it! What wisdom! Even the fleas know that."

For some reason or another, the contempt with which Mayakin regarded
Shchurov, irritated Foma, and, looking into the old man's face, he said
with a grin:

"But he doesn't like you."

"Nobody likes me, my dear," said Mayakin, proudly. "There is no reason
why they should like me. I am no girl. But they respect me. And they
respect only those they fear." And the old man winked at his godson
boastfully.

"He speaks with weight," repeated Foma. "He is complaining. 'The real
merchant,' says he, 'is passing away. All people are taught the same
thing,' he says: 'so that all may be equal, looking alike."'

"Does he consider it wrong?"

"Evidently so."

"Fo-o-o-l!" Mayakin drawled out, with contempt.

"Why? Is it good?" asked Foma, looking at his godfather suspiciously.

"We do not know what is good; but we can see what is wise. When we see
that all sorts of people are driven together in one place and are all
inspired there with one and the same idea--then must we acknowledge that
it is wise. Because--what is a man in the empire? Nothing more than
a simple brick, and all bricks must be of the same size. Do you
understand? And those people that are of equal height and weight--I can
place in any position I like."

"And whom does it please to be a brick?" said Foma, morosely.

"It is not a question of pleasing, it is a matter of fact. If you are
made of hard material, they cannot plane you. It is not eve