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The teacher is not exacting with the rich. And I am a poor
hanger-on; he doesn't like me, because I am impudent and because
I never bring him any presents. If I had been a bad pupil he
would have expelled me long ago. You know I'll go to the
Gymnasium from here. I'll pass the second class and then I'll
leave. Already a student is preparing me for the second class.
There I'll study so that they can't hold me back! How many horses
do you have?"
"Three. What do you need to study so much for?" asked Foma.
"Because I am poor. The poor must study hard so that they may
become rich. They become doctors, functionaries, officers. I
shall be a 'tinkler.' A sword at my side, spur on my boots.
Cling, cling! And what are you going to be?"
"I don't know," said Foma, pensively, examining his companion.
"You need not be anything. And are you fond of pigeons?"
"Yes."
"What a good-for-nothing you are! Oh! Eh!" Yozhov imitated Foma's
slow way of speaking. "How many pigeons do you have?"
"I have none."
"Eh, you! Rich, and yet you have no pigeons.


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