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"Got anything to eat?" he accosted Foma, turning up his sharp-pointed
nose. "Let me have it, for I left the house without eating anything.
I slept too long, devil take it! I studied up to two o'clock last
night. Have you solved your problems?"
"No, I haven't."
"Eh, you lazy bones! Well, I'll dash them off for you directly!"
Driving his small, thin teeth into the cakes, he purred something
like a kitten, stamped his left foot, beating time, and at the
same time solved the problem, rattling off short phrases to Foma:
"See? Eight bucketfuls leaked out in one hour. And how many hours
did it leak--six? Eh, what good things they eat in your house!
Consequently, we must multiply six by eight. Do you like cake
with green onions? Oh, how I like it! So that in six hours forty-
eight bucketfuls leaked out of the first gauge-cock. And
altogether the tub contained ninety. Do you understand the rest?"
Foma liked Yozhov better than Smolin, but he was more friendly
with Smolin. He wondered at the ability and the sprightliness of
the little fellow.


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