Serézha at once dropped his legs, put his hand to his eye, from which tears began to flow against his will, and gave Ilínka a blow with all his might. Ilínka was no longer supported by us, and fell to the floor like a lifeless mass. He could only say through tears:
"Why do you torment me so?"
The pitiful figure of poor Ilínka, with his tearful face, dishevelled hair, and tucked-up pantaloons, underneath which could be seen the unblackened boot-legs, struck us forcibly; we were all silent and endeavoured to smile.
Serézha was the first to come to his senses.
"He is an old woman, and a cry baby," he said, lightly touching him with his foot. "It is impossible to play with him. Now, that will do, get up."
"I told you you were a naughty boy," angrily cried Ilínka, and, turning away, sobbed out loud.
"Oh, he strikes with his heels, and then he calls names!" cried Serézha, taking a dictionary in his hands and swinging it over the head of the unfortunate boy, who did not even think of defending himself, but covered his head with his hands.
"Take this, and this! Let us leave him, if he does not know what jokes are. Let us go down-stairs," said Serézha, laughing in an unnatural manner.
I looked sympathetically at the poor fellow, who lay upon the floor, and, hiding his face in a dictionary, wept so much that I thought he would certainly die of the convulsions with which his body was shaking.
"O Sergyéy!" said I to him, "why did you do that?"
"I declare! I did not cry, I hope, when I almost crushed my leg to the bone!"
"Yes, that is so," thought I, " Ilínka is nothing but a cry baby, and Serézha is a brave fellow. Oh, what a brave fellow!"
It did not occur to me that the poor boy was really not crying so much from physical pain as from the thought
