The boy's life rolled onward, like a ball downhill. Being his
teacher, his aunt was his playmate as well. Luba Mayakin used to
come, and when with them, the old woman readily became one of them.

They played at "hide and seek and "blind man's buff;" the
children were pleased and amused at seeing Anfisa, her eyes
covered with a handkerchief, her arms outstretched, walking about
the room carefully, and yet striking against chairs and tables,
or looking for them in each and every commodious corner, saying:

"Eh, little rascals. Eh, rogues. Where have they hidden
themselves? Eh?"

And the sun shone cheerfully and playfully upon the old worn-out
body, which yet retained a youthful soul, and upon the old life,
that was adorning, according to its strength and abilities, the
life-path of two children.

Ignat used to go to the Exchange early in the morning and
sometimes stayed away until evening; in the evening he used to go
to the town council or visiting or elsewhere. Sometimes he
returned home intoxicated. At first Foma, on such occasions, ran
from him and hid himself, then he became accustomed to it, and
learned that his father was better when drunk than sober: he was
kinder and plainer and was somewhat comical. If it happened at
night, the boy was usually awakened by his trumpet-like voice:

"Anfisa! Dear sister! Let me in to my son; let me in to my successor!"

And auntie answered him in a crying and reproachful voice: