It was not often that Grisha’s wardrobe received important additions.
His mother could not afford it; hence, every item gave Grisha great
joy. The autumn cold came, and Grisha’s mother bought an overcoat, a
hat and mittens. The mittens pleased Grisha more than anything else.
On the holiday, after Mass, he put on his new things and went out to
play. He loved to walk about in the streets, and he used to go out
alone; his mother had no time to go out with him. She looked proudly
out of the window as Grisha walked gravely by. She recalled at that
moment her well-to-do relatives who had promised her so much, and had
done so little, and she thought: “Well, I’ve managed it without them,
thank God!”
It was a cold, clear day; the sun did not shine with its full
brightness; the waters of the canals in the city were covered with
their first thin ice. Grisha walked the streets, rejoicing in this
brisk cold, in his new clothes, and with his naïve fancies; he always
loved to dream when he was alone, and he dreamt always of great deeds,
of fame, of a bright, happy life in a rich house, indeed of everything
that was unlike the sad reality.
As Grisha stood on the bank of the canal and looked through the iron
railings at the thin ice that floated on the surface, he was approached
by a street urchin in threadbare attire, and with hands red from the
cold. He entered into conversation with Grisha. Grisha was not afraid
of him, and even pitied him because of his benumbed hands. His new
acquaintance informed him that he was called Mishka, but that his
family name was Babushkin, because he and his mother lived with his
_babushka_.[1]
“But then what is your mother’s family name?”
“My mother’s name?” repeated Mishka, smiling. “She’s called Matushkin,
because my _babushka_ is no _babushka_ to her, but is her
_matushka._”[2]
“That’s strange,” said Grisha with astonishment. “My mother and I have
one family name; we are called the Igumnovs.”
“That’s because,” explained Mishka with animation, “your grandfather
was an _igumen_.”[3]
“No,” said Grisha, “my grandfather was a colonel.”
“All the same it’s likely that his father, or some one else was an
_igumen_, and so you have all become the Igumnovs.”
Grisha did not know who his great-grandfather was, so he said nothing,
Mishka kept on eyeing his mittens.
“You have handsome mittens,” he said.
“New ones,” Grisha explained, with a joyous smile. “It’s the first time
I’ve put them on; d’you see, here is a little string drawn through!”
“Well, you’re a lucky one! And are they quite warm?”
“Rather!”
“I have also mittens at home, but I haven’t put them on because I don’t
like them. They are yellow, and I don’t like yellow ones. Let me put
yours on, and I’ll run along and show them to my _babushka_, and ask
her to get me a pair like them.”
Mishka looked at Grisha pleadingly, and his eyes sparkled enviously.
“You won’t keep me waiting long?” asked Grisha.
“No, I live quite near here, just round the corner. Don’t be afraid!
Upon my word, in a minute!”
Grisha trustfully took off his mittens and gave them to Mishka.
“I’ll be back in a minute, wait here, don’t go away,” exclaimed Mishka,
as he ran off with Grisha’s mittens. He disappeared round the corner,
and Grisha was left waiting. He did not imagine that Mishka would fool
him; he thought that he would simply run home, show his mittens, and
return with them. He stood there long and waited, and Mishka did not
even dream of returning.
The short autumn day was already darkening; Grisha’s mother, restless
because of her boy’s long absence, went out to look for him. Grisha at
last understood that Mishka would not return. The poor boy turned sadly
toward home and he met his mother.
“Grisha, what have you done with yourself” she asked, angry and glad at
finding her son.
Grisha did not reply. He seemed embarrassed as he rubbed his hands, red
with cold. His mother then noticed that he did not wear his mittens.
“Where are your mittens?” she asked angrily, as she searched his
overcoat pockets.
Grisha smiled and said: “I lent them to a boy for a short time, and he
didn’t bring them back.”
[1] Grandmother.
[2] Mother.
[3] An abbot.