recall her to my memory. I remembered too how, the evening before, I
had found a mushroom under the birch-trees, how Lubotshka had quarrelled
with Katenka as to whose it should be, and how they had both of them
wept when taking leave of us. I felt sorry to be parted from them, and
from Natalia Savishna, and from the birch-tree avenue, and from Foka.
Yes, even the horrid Mimi I longed for. I longed for everything at home.
And poor Mamma!--The tears rushed to my eyes again. Yet even this mood
passed away before long.




XV -- CHILDHOOD

HAPPY, happy, never-returning time of childhood! How can we help loving
and dwelling upon its recollections? They cheer and elevate the soul,
and become to one a source of higher joys.

Sometimes, when dreaming of bygone days, I fancy that, tired out with
running about, I have sat down, as of old, in my high arm-chair by the
tea-table. It is late, and I have long since drunk my cup of milk. My
eyes are heavy with sleep as I sit there and listen. How could I not
listen, seeing that Mamma is speaking to somebody, and that the sound
of her voice is so melodious and kind? How much its echoes recall to
my heart! With my eyes veiled with drowsiness I gaze at her wistfully.
Suddenly she seems to grow smaller and smaller, and her face vanishes
to a point; yet I can still see it--can still see her as she looks at me
and smiles. Somehow it pleases me to see her grown so small. I blink and
blink, yet she looks no larger than a boy reflected in the pupil of an
eye. Then I rouse myself, and the picture fades. Once more I half-close