Volodya’s mother found him a second time with the shadows.
This time the bull’s head was a success, and he was delighted. He made
the bull stretch out his neck, and the bull lowed.
His mother was less pleased.
“So this is how you are taking up your time,” she said reproachfully.
“For a little, mamma,” whispered Volodya, embarrassed.
“You might at least save this for a more suitable time,” his mother
went on. “And you are no longer a little boy. Aren’t you ashamed to
waste your time on such nonsense!”
“Mamma, dear, I shan’t do it again.”
But Volodya found it difficult to keep his promise. He enjoyed making
shadows, and the desire to make them came to him often, especially
during an uninteresting lesson.
This amusement occupied much of his time on some evenings and
interfered with his lessons. He had to make up for it afterwards and to
lose some sleep. How could he give up his amusement?
Volodya succeeded in evolving several new figures, and not by means of
the fingers alone. These figures lived on the wall, and it even seemed
to Volodya at times that they talked to him and entertained him.
But Volodya was a dreamer even before then.