“Your mug, it’s terrible. Skinny. And you have a nose like a thief’s. A couple of thieves come here. One, Sashka, is a fool and nasty. The other, Vanichka, he’s kind, he’s kind as a dog. Have you got any little boxes?”

“I’ll bring you some.”

“Do. I won’t tell Mammy that you’re coming.”

“Why not?”

“I just won’t. She’s always glad when men come. Why, she loves men, the bitch. It’s simply awful. She’s a funny girl, my Mammy. At fifteen she managed to have me, she herself doesn’t know how it happened. When will you come?”

“Tomorrow evening.”

“In the evening? Then she’ll be drunk. And what do you do, if you’re not a thief?”

“I sell Bavarian kvass.”

“Yes? Bring me a bottle, will you?”

“Sure. I’ll bring one. Well, I must be going.”

“Run along. Will you come?”

“Positively.”

He stretched both his long hands out towards me, and I pressed and shook those thin chilly bones, and without looking back, I climbed out into the yard like one drunk.

Dawn was breaking. Over the damp pile of half dilapidated buildings Venus was trembling as it faded away. From the dirty pit under the wall of the house the panes of the cellar window stared at me with their square eyes, murky and stained like the eyes of a drunkard. In a cart by the gate a red-faced peasant was asleep with his huge bare feet flung wide apart. His thick rough beard stuck up towards the sky, and white teeth glistened in it. It looked as though the peasant were laughing sarcastically with his eyes closed. An old dog with a bald spot on its back, apparently the result of a scald, ambled over to me, sniffed at my leg and howled gently and hungrily, filling my heart with futile pity for it. The morning sky, pale and pink, was reflected in the placid puddles, and these reflections lent the filthy puddles an unnecessary, insulting beauty which debauched the soul.

The following day I asked the boys on my block to catch some bugs and butterflies. I bought pretty little boxes at the apothecary’s, and I went to see Lenka, taking along two bottles of kvass, some gingerbread, candy, and sweet rolls. Lenka received my gifts with vast amazement, opening his darling eyes wide. By daylight they were even more marvelous.

“Oh, oh, oh!” he cried out, in a low unchildlike voice. “All the things you’ve brought! Are you rich? How’s that—rich, but badly dressed, and you say you’re not a thief! And the little boxes! Oh, oh, oh! It’s a shame to touch them. My hands aren’t clean. Who’s in here? Aha, a bug! Looks like copper, green, even. Oh, you devil! And will they run out and fly away? Goodness me!”

And suddenly he shouted gaily:

“Mom! Climb down and wash my hands. And look, you goose, what he has brought me! It’s the same fellow, the one who dragged you here last night, like a policeman, it’s the same one. His name is Lenka, too.”