"That's right. Sleep now, don't fear. He is far away now! Floating on.
See here, be careful as you go up to the side of the ship. You
may fall overboard. God forbid! And--"
"Did he fall overboard?"
"Of course. Perhaps he was drunk, and that's his end! And maybe
he threw himself into the water. There are people who do that.
They go and throw themselves into the water and are drowned.
Life, my dear, is so arranged that death is sometimes a holiday
for one, sometimes it is a blessing for all."
"Papa."
"Sleep, sleep, dear."
CHAPTER III
DURING the very first day of his school life, stupefied by the
lively and hearty noise of provoking mischiefs and of wild,
childish games, Foma picked out two boys from the crowd who at
once seemed more interesting to him than the others. One had a
seat in front of him. Foma, looking askance, saw a broad back; a
full neck, covered with freckles; big ears; and the back of the
head closely cropped, covered with light-red hair which stood out
like bristles.
When the teacher, a bald-headed man, whose lower lip hung down,
called out: "Smolin, African!" the red-headed boy arose slowly,
walked up to the teacher, calmly stared into his face, and,
having listened to the problem, carefully began to make big round
figures on the blackboard with chalk.
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