Stories by Foreign Authors: Russian | Page 8

it did not
know how to lap out of a cup, and did nothing but shiver and blink.

Gerasim took hold of its head softly with two fingers, and dipped its
little nose into the milk. The pup suddenly began lapping greedily,
sniffing, shaking itself, and choking. Gerasim watched and watched it,
and all at once he laughed outright. . . . All night long he was waiting
on it, keeping it covered, and rubbing it dry. He fell asleep himself at
last, and slept quietly and happily by its side.
No mother could have looked after her baby as Gerasim looked after
his little nursling. At first she--for the pup turned out to be a bitch--was
very weak, feeble, and ugly, but by degrees she grew stronger and
improved in looks, and, thanks to the unflagging care of her preserver,
in eight months' time she was transformed into a very pretty dog of the
spaniel breed, with long ears, a bushy spiral tail, and large, expressive
eyes. She was devotedly attached to Gerasim, and was never a yard
from his side; she always followed him about wagging her tail. He had
even given her a name--the dumb know that their inarticulate noises
call the attention of others. He called her Mumu. All the servants in the
house liked her, and called her Mumu, too. She was very intelligent,
she was friendly with every one, but was only fond of Gerasim.
Gerasim, on his side, loved her passionately, and he did not like it when
other people stroked her; whether he was afraid for her, or jealous--God
knows! She used to wake him in the morning, pulling at his coat; she
used to take the reins in her mouth, and bring him up the old horse that
carried the water, with whom she was on very friendly terms. With a
face of great importance, she used to go with him to the river; she used
to watch his brooms and spades, and never allowed any one to go into
his garret. He cut a little hole in his door on purpose for her, and she
seemed to feel that only in Gerasim's garret she was completely
mistress and at home; and directly she went in, she used to jump with a
satisfied air upon the bed. At night she did not sleep at all, but she
never barked without sufficient cause, like some stupid house-dog, who,
sitting on its hind-legs, blinking, with its nose in the air, barks simply
from dullness, at the stars, usually three times in succession. No!
Mumu's delicate little voice was never raised without good reason;
either some stranger was passing close to the fence, or there was some
suspicious sound or rustle somewhere. . . . In fact, she was an excellent
watch-dog. It is true that there was another dog in the yard, a tawny old
dog with brown spots, called Wolf, but he was never, even at night, let

off the chain; and, indeed, he was so decrepit that he did not even wish
for freedom. He used to lie curled up in his kennel, and only rarely
uttered a sleepy, almost noiseless bark, which broke off at once, as
though he were himself aware of its uselessness. Mumu never went into
the mistress's house; and when Gerasim carried wood into the rooms,
she always stayed behind, impatiently waiting for him at the steps,
pricking up her ears and turning her head to right and to left at the
slightest creak of the door . . .
So passed another year. Gerasim went on performing his duties as
house- porter, and was very well content with his lot, when suddenly an
unexpected incident occurred. . . . One fine summer day the old lady
was walking up and down the drawing-room with her dependants. She
was in high spirits; she laughed and made jokes. Her servile
companions laughed and joked too, but they did not feel particularly
mirthful; the household did not much like it, when their mistress was in
a lively mood, for, to begin with, she expected from every one prompt
and complete participation in her merriment, and was furious if any one
showed a face that did not beam with delight; and secondly, these
outbursts never lasted long with her, and were usually followed by a
sour and gloomy mood. That day she had got up in a lucky hour; at
cards she took the four knaves, which means the fulfilment of one's
wishes (she used to try her fortune on the cards every morning), and her
tea struck her as particularly delicious, for which her maid was
rewarded by words of praise, and by twopence in money. With a sweet
smile on her wrinkled lips, the lady walked about the drawing-room