finished_summaries/sparknotes/The Brothers Karamazov/section_12_part_2.txt
The Brothers Karamazov.book 10.chapter 2
book 10, chapter 2
{"name": "book 10, Chapter 2", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210305110438/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/brothersk/section13/", "summary": "Kids At present, Kolya is watching two children while their mother, a tenant of his mother, is away. He is anxious, however, because he wants to go visit Ilyusha. Ilyusha has fallen ill and may be near death. Alyosha has convinced the other boys to visit him every day, but Kolya has yet to visit him once. He has not met Alyosha yet either", "analysis": ""}
Chapter II. Children


And so on that frosty, snowy, and windy day in November, Kolya Krassotkin
was sitting at home. It was Sunday and there was no school. It had just
struck eleven, and he particularly wanted to go out "on very urgent
business," but he was left alone in charge of the house, for it so
happened that all its elder inmates were absent owing to a sudden and
singular event. Madame Krassotkin had let two little rooms, separated from
the rest of the house by a passage, to a doctor's wife with her two small
children. This lady was the same age as Anna Fyodorovna, and a great
friend of hers. Her husband, the doctor, had taken his departure twelve
months before, going first to Orenburg and then to Tashkend, and for the
last six months she had not heard a word from him. Had it not been for her
friendship with Madame Krassotkin, which was some consolation to the
forsaken lady, she would certainly have completely dissolved away in
tears. And now, to add to her misfortunes, Katerina, her only servant, was
suddenly moved the evening before to announce, to her mistress's
amazement, that she proposed to bring a child into the world before
morning. It seemed almost miraculous to every one that no one had noticed
the probability of it before. The astounded doctor's wife decided to move
Katerina while there was still time to an establishment in the town kept
by a midwife for such emergencies. As she set great store by her servant,
she promptly carried out this plan and remained there looking after her.
By the morning all Madame Krassotkin's friendly sympathy and energy were
called upon to render assistance and appeal to some one for help in the
case.

So both the ladies were absent from home, the Krassotkins' servant,
Agafya, had gone out to the market, and Kolya was thus left for a time to
protect and look after "the kids," that is, the son and daughter of the
doctor's wife, who were left alone. Kolya was not afraid of taking care of
the house, besides he had Perezvon, who had been told to lie flat, without
moving, under the bench in the hall. Every time Kolya, walking to and fro
through the rooms, came into the hall, the dog shook his head and gave two
loud and insinuating taps on the floor with his tail, but alas! the
whistle did not sound to release him. Kolya looked sternly at the luckless
dog, who relapsed again into obedient rigidity. The one thing that
troubled Kolya was "the kids." He looked, of course, with the utmost scorn
on Katerina's unexpected adventure, but he was very fond of the bereaved
"kiddies," and had already taken them a picture-book. Nastya, the elder, a
girl of eight, could read, and Kostya, the boy, aged seven, was very fond
of being read to by her. Krassotkin could, of course, have provided more
diverting entertainment for them. He could have made them stand side by
side and played soldiers with them, or sent them hiding all over the
house. He had done so more than once before and was not above doing it, so
much so that a report once spread at school that Krassotkin played horses
with the little lodgers at home, prancing with his head on one side like a
trace-horse. But Krassotkin haughtily parried this thrust, pointing out
that to play horses with boys of one's own age, boys of thirteen, would
certainly be disgraceful "at this date," but that he did it for the sake
of "the kids" because he liked them, and no one had a right to call him to
account for his feelings. The two "kids" adored him.

But on this occasion he was in no mood for games. He had very important
business of his own before him, something almost mysterious. Meanwhile
time was passing and Agafya, with whom he could have left the children,
would not come back from market. He had several times already crossed the
passage, opened the door of the lodgers' room and looked anxiously at "the
kids" who were sitting over the book, as he had bidden them. Every time he
opened the door they grinned at him, hoping he would come in and would do
something delightful and amusing. But Kolya was bothered and did not go
in.

At last it struck eleven and he made up his mind, once for all, that if
that "damned" Agafya did not come back within ten minutes he should go out
without waiting for her, making "the kids" promise, of course, to be brave
when he was away, not to be naughty, not to cry from fright. With this
idea he put on his wadded winter overcoat with its catskin fur collar,
slung his satchel round his shoulder, and, regardless of his mother's
constantly reiterated entreaties that he would always put on goloshes in
such cold weather, he looked at them contemptuously as he crossed the hall
and went out with only his boots on. Perezvon, seeing him in his outdoor
clothes, began tapping nervously, yet vigorously, on the floor with his
tail. Twitching all over, he even uttered a plaintive whine. But Kolya,
seeing his dog's passionate excitement, decided that it was a breach of
discipline, kept him for another minute under the bench, and only when he
had opened the door into the passage, whistled for him. The dog leapt up
like a mad creature and rushed bounding before him rapturously.

Kolya opened the door to peep at "the kids." They were both sitting as
before at the table, not reading but warmly disputing about something. The
children often argued together about various exciting problems of life,
and Nastya, being the elder, always got the best of it. If Kostya did not
agree with her, he almost always appealed to Kolya Krassotkin, and his
verdict was regarded as infallible by both of them. This time the "kids'"
discussion rather interested Krassotkin, and he stood still in the passage
to listen. The children saw he was listening and that made them dispute
with even greater energy.

"I shall never, never believe," Nastya prattled, "that the old women find
babies among the cabbages in the kitchen-garden. It's winter now and there
are no cabbages, and so the old woman couldn't have taken Katerina a
daughter."

Kolya whistled to himself.

"Or perhaps they do bring babies from somewhere, but only to those who are
married."

Kostya stared at Nastya and listened, pondering profoundly.

"Nastya, how silly you are!" he said at last, firmly and calmly. "How can
Katerina have a baby when she isn't married?"

Nastya was exasperated.

"You know nothing about it," she snapped irritably. "Perhaps she has a
husband, only he is in prison, so now she's got a baby."

"But is her husband in prison?" the matter-of-fact Kostya inquired
gravely.

"Or, I tell you what," Nastya interrupted impulsively, completely
rejecting and forgetting her first hypothesis. "She hasn't a husband, you
are right there, but she wants to be married, and so she's been thinking
of getting married, and thinking and thinking of it till now she's got it,
that is, not a husband but a baby."

"Well, perhaps so," Kostya agreed, entirely vanquished. "But you didn't
say so before. So how could I tell?"

"Come, kiddies," said Kolya, stepping into the room. "You're terrible
people, I see."

"And Perezvon with you!" grinned Kostya, and began snapping his fingers
and calling Perezvon.

"I am in a difficulty, kids," Krassotkin began solemnly, "and you must
help me. Agafya must have broken her leg, since she has not turned up till
now, that's certain. I must go out. Will you let me go?"

The children looked anxiously at one another. Their smiling faces showed
signs of uneasiness, but they did not yet fully grasp what was expected of
them.

"You won't be naughty while I am gone? You won't climb on the cupboard and
break your legs? You won't be frightened alone and cry?"

A look of profound despondency came into the children's faces.

"And I could show you something as a reward, a little copper cannon which
can be fired with real gunpowder."

The children's faces instantly brightened. "Show us the cannon," said
Kostya, beaming all over.

Krassotkin put his hand in his satchel, and pulling out a little bronze
cannon stood it on the table.

"Ah, you are bound to ask that! Look, it's on wheels." He rolled the toy
on along the table. "And it can be fired off, too. It can be loaded with
shot and fired off."

"And it could kill any one?"

"It can kill any one; you've only got to aim at anybody," and Krassotkin
explained where the powder had to be put, where the shot should be rolled
in, showing a tiny hole like a touch-hole, and told them that it kicked
when it was fired.

The children listened with intense interest. What particularly struck
their imagination was that the cannon kicked.

"And have you got any powder?" Nastya inquired.

"Yes."

"Show us the powder, too," she drawled with a smile of entreaty.

Krassotkin dived again into his satchel and pulled out a small flask
containing a little real gunpowder. He had some shot, too, in a screw of
paper. He even uncorked the flask and shook a little powder into the palm
of his hand.

"One has to be careful there's no fire about, or it would blow up and kill
us all," Krassotkin warned them sensationally.

The children gazed at the powder with an awe-stricken alarm that only
intensified their enjoyment. But Kostya liked the shot better.

"And does the shot burn?" he inquired.

"No, it doesn't."

"Give me a little shot," he asked in an imploring voice.

"I'll give you a little shot; here, take it, but don't show it to your
mother till I come back, or she'll be sure to think it's gunpowder, and
will die of fright and give you a thrashing."

"Mother never does whip us," Nastya observed at once.

"I know, I only said it to finish the sentence. And don't you ever deceive
your mother except just this once, until I come back. And so, kiddies, can
I go out? You won't be frightened and cry when I'm gone?"

"We sha--all cry," drawled Kostya, on the verge of tears already.

"We shall cry, we shall be sure to cry," Nastya chimed in with timid
haste.

"Oh, children, children, how fraught with peril are your years! There's no
help for it, chickens, I shall have to stay with you I don't know how
long. And time is passing, time is passing, oogh!"

"Tell Perezvon to pretend to be dead!" Kostya begged.

"There's no help for it, we must have recourse to Perezvon. _Ici_,
Perezvon." And Kolya began giving orders to the dog, who performed all his
tricks.

He was a rough-haired dog, of medium size, with a coat of a sort of lilac-
gray color. He was blind in his right eye, and his left ear was torn. He
whined and jumped, stood and walked on his hind legs, lay on his back with
his paws in the air, rigid as though he were dead. While this last
performance was going on, the door opened and Agafya, Madame Krassotkin's
servant, a stout woman of forty, marked with small-pox, appeared in the
doorway. She had come back from market and had a bag full of provisions in
her hand. Holding up the bag of provisions in her left hand she stood
still to watch the dog. Though Kolya had been so anxious for her return,
he did not cut short the performance, and after keeping Perezvon dead for
the usual time, at last he whistled to him. The dog jumped up and began
bounding about in his joy at having done his duty.

"Only think, a dog!" Agafya observed sententiously.

"Why are you late, female?" asked Krassotkin sternly.

"Female, indeed! Go on with you, you brat."

"Brat?"

"Yes, a brat. What is it to you if I'm late; if I'm late, you may be sure
I have good reason," muttered Agafya, busying herself about the stove,
without a trace of anger or displeasure in her voice. She seemed quite
pleased, in fact, to enjoy a skirmish with her merry young master.

"Listen, you frivolous young woman," Krassotkin began, getting up from the
sofa, "can you swear by all you hold sacred in the world and something
else besides, that you will watch vigilantly over the kids in my absence?
I am going out."

"And what am I going to swear for?" laughed Agafya. "I shall look after
them without that."

"No, you must swear on your eternal salvation. Else I shan't go."

"Well, don't then. What does it matter to me? It's cold out; stay at
home."

"Kids," Kolya turned to the children, "this woman will stay with you till
I come back or till your mother comes, for she ought to have been back
long ago. She will give you some lunch, too. You'll give them something,
Agafya, won't you?"

"That I can do."

"Good-by, chickens, I go with my heart at rest. And you, granny," he added
gravely, in an undertone, as he passed Agafya, "I hope you'll spare their
tender years and not tell them any of your old woman's nonsense about
Katerina. _Ici_, Perezvon!"

"Get along with you!" retorted Agafya, really angry this time. "Ridiculous
boy! You want a whipping for saying such things, that's what you want!"





book 10, Chapter 2
Kids At present, Kolya is watching two children while their mother, a tenant of his mother, is away. He is anxious, however, because he wants to go visit Ilyusha. Ilyusha has fallen ill and may be near death. Alyosha has convinced the other boys to visit him every day, but Kolya has yet to visit him once. He has not met Alyosha yet either