"Good enough!" said the teacher. "Yozhov, Nicolai. Proceed!"
One of Foma's neighbours, a fidgety little boy with black little
mouse-eyes, jumped up from his seat and passed through the aisle,
striking against everything and turning his head on all sides. At
the blackboard he seized the chalk, and, standing up on the toes
of his boots, noisily began to mark the board with the chalk,
creaking and filling with chalk dust, dashing off small,
illegible marks.
"Not so loud!" said the teacher, wrinkling his yellow face and
contracting his fatigued eyes. Yozhov spoke quickly and in a
ringing voice:
"Now we know that the first peddler made 17k. profit."
"Enough! Gordyeeff! Tell me what must we do in order to find out
how much the second peddler gained?"
Watching the conduct of the boys, so unlike each other, Foma was
thus taken unawares by the question and he kept quiet.
"Don't you know? How? Explain it to him, Smolin."
Having carefully wiped his fingers, which had been soiled with
chalk, Smolin put the rag away, and, without looking at Foma,
finished the problem and again began to wipe his hands, while
Yozhov, smiling and skipping along as he walked, returned to his
seat.
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