you want him to take sick?" interposed Anfisa, and that was
sufficient for Ignat to rush off hastily, muttering:

"Well, well, well! I am going, I am going, but don't cry! Don't
make any noise. Don't frighten him."

And when Foma was somewhat sick, his father, casting everything
aside, did not leave the house for a moment, but bothered his
sister and his son with stupid questions and advice; gloomy,
sighing, and with fear in his eyes, he walked about the house
quite out of sorts.

"Why do you vex the Lord?" said Anfisa. "Beware, your grumblings
will reach Him, and He will punish you for your complaints
against His graces."

"Eh, sister!" sighed Ignat. "And if it should happen? My entire
life is crumbling away! Wherefore have I lived? No one knows."

Similar scenes and the striking transitions of his father from
one mood to another frightened the child at first, but he soon
became accustomed to all this, and when he noticed through the
window that his father, on coming home, was hardly able to get
out of the sledge, Foma said indifferently:

"Auntie, papa came home drunk again."

.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Spring came, and, fulfilling his promise, Ignat took his son