"I am a merchant!" said Ignat, sternly, but after a moment's
thought he smiled kind-heartedly and added: "And you are a little
fool! I deal in corn, I run a line of steamers. Have you seen the
'Yermak'? Well, that is my steamer. And yours, too."

"It is a very big one," said Foma with a sigh.

"Well, I'll buy you a small one while you are small yourself.
Shall I?"

"Very well," Foma assented, but after a thoughtful silence he
again drawled out regretfully: "But I thought you were a robber
or a giant."

"I tell you I am a merchant!" repeated Ignat, insinuatingly, and
there was something discontented and almost timorous in his
glance at the disenchanted face of his son.

"Like Grandpa Fedor, the Kalatch baker?" asked Foma, having
thought awhile.

"Well, yes, like him. Only I am richer than he. I have more money
than Fedor."

"Have you much money?"

Well, some people have still more."

"How many barrels do you have?"