WHO ART THOU?
"Well, all the same, you'll stay indoors unless you want a whipping. What are you grinning at? If I were you I shouldn't find anything to laugh about."
Anushka was fond of repeating this phrase—quite enigmatical to Grishka. Ever since her husband's death, which obliged her to go out as a servant, she had looked upon Grishka and herself as unhappy creatures, and when she thought about the child's future she always painted it in dark colours. Grishka ceased to smile and began to feel uncomfortable.
However, he didn't much want to go into the yard. He wasn't dull indoors. He had a picture-book which he hadn't yet read, and he betook himself to that enjoyment. But he didn't read for very long. He climbed up on the window-seat and looked out upon the children in the yard. Presently, trying to forget a slight headache, he let himself dream a little.
To dream—that was Grishka's favourite occupation. He imagined all sorts of things in all sorts of ways, but he himself was always in the centre—he dreamed about himself and the world. When he went to bed Grishka always tried to think of something tender, joyful, a little painful and
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