He was the owner of a rope-yard and kept a store in town near the
harbour. In this store, filled up to the ceiling with rope,
twine, hemp and tow, he had a small room with a creaking glass
door. In this room stood a big, old, dilapidated table, and near
it a deep armchair, covered with oilcloth, in which Mayakin sat
all day long, sipping tea and always reading the same
"Moskovskiya Vedomosty," to which he subscribed, year in and year
out, all his life. Among merchants he enjoyed the respect and
reputation of a "brainy" man, and he was very fond of boasting of
the antiquity of his race, saying in a hoarse voice:
"We, the Mayakins, were merchants during the reign of 'Mother'
Catherine, consequently I am a pure-blooded man."
In this family Ignat Gordyeeff's son lived for six years. By the
time he was seven years old Foma was a big-headed, broad-
shouldered boy, seemingly older that his years, both in his size
and in the serious look of his dark, almond-shaped eyes. Quiet,
silent and persistent in his childish desires, he spent all his
days over his playthings, with Mayakin's daughter, Luba, quietly
looked after by one of the kinswomen, a stout, pock-marked old
maid, who was, for some reason or other, nicknamed "Buzya.
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