fragmentary remarks which accompanied this operation, it might be deduced that the contents of the letter affected Petka. This took place in the evening. Petka was playing athletic sports by himself in the back court, and puffing out his cheeks, because that made it considerably easier to jump. The schoolboy Mitya had taught him this stupid but interesting occupation, and now Petka, like a true “sportsman,” was practising alone. The master came out, and laying his hand on his shoulder, said:
“Well, my friend, you have to go!”
Petka smiled in confusion and said nothing. “What a strange lad,” thought the master.
“Yes, have to go.”
Petka smiled. Nadejda coming up with tears in her eyes repeated:
“You have to go, sonny.”
“Where?” said Petka in surprise. He had forgotten the city; and the other place, to which he had always so wanted to go away–was found.
“To your master, Osip Abramovich.”
Still Petka failed to understand, though the matter was as clear as daylight. But his mouth felt suddenly dry, and his tongue moved with difficulty as he asked:
“How then can I go fishing to-morrow? Look, here is the rod.”
“But what can one do? He wants you. Prokopy, he says, is ill, and has been taken to the
