sat a long time over them; forgetting distinctions of rank and
recalling only their meritorious labours, they ate till they were
full, drank amicably, chattered till they were all hoarse and parted
late in the evening, deafening the whole factory settlement with
their singing and the sound of their kisses. Of such dinners Sysoev
had taken part in thirteen, as he had been that number of years
master of the factory school.

Now, getting ready for the fourteenth, he was trying to make himself
look as festive and correct as possible. He had spent a whole hour
brushing his new black suit, and spent almost as long in front of
a looking-glass while he put on a fashionable shirt; the studs would
not go into the button-holes, and this circumstance called forth a
perfect storm of complaints, threats, and reproaches addressed to
his wife.

His poor wife, bustling round him, wore herself out with her efforts.
And indeed he, too, was exhausted in the end. When his polished
boots were brought him from the kitchen he had not strength to pull
them on. He had to lie down and have a drink of water.

"How weak you have grown!" sighed his wife. "You ought not to go
to this dinner at all."

"No advice, please!" the schoolmaster cut her short angrily.

He was in a very bad temper, for he had been much displeased with
the recent examinations. The examinations had gone off splendidly;
all the boys of the senior division had gained certificates and
prizes; both the managers of the factory and the government officials