The new trick consisted in getting the dog to stand motionlessly with his nose held out, and putting the tasty piece of beef right on the tip of it. The unfortunate dog had to stand without moving, with the meat on his nose, for as long as the master ordered, not moving, not budging, even for half an hour. But Perezvon was kept only for a brief moment.

“Fetch!” cried Kolya, and in a second the piece flew from Perezvon’s nose into his mouth. The audience, naturally, expressed rapturous amazement.

“And can it be, can it be that you refused to come all this time only in order to train the dog!” Alyosha exclaimed with involuntary reproach.

“That’s precisely the reason,” Kolya shouted in the most naive way. “I wanted to show him in all his glory!”

“Perezvon! Perezvon!” Ilyusha suddenly began snapping his thin fingers, calling the dog.

“What do you want? Let him jump up on the bed himself. Ici, Perezvon!” Kolya patted the bed, and Perezvon flew like an arrow up to Ilyusha. The boy impetuously hugged his head with both arms, and in return Perezvon immediately gave him a lick on the cheek. Ilyusha pressed himself to the dog, stretched out on his bed, and hid his face from them all in its shaggy fur.

“Lord, Lord!” the captain kept exclaiming.

Kolya sat down again on Ilyusha’s bed.

“Ilyusha, there’s something else I can show you. I’ve brought you a little cannon. Remember, I told you one time about this cannon, and you said: ‘Ah, I wish I could see it! ‘ So, now I’ve brought it.”

And Kolya hurriedly pulled the little bronze cannon out of his bag. He was hurrying because he himself was very happy: another time he would have waited until the effect produced by Perezvon had worn off, but now he hastened on, heedless of all self-control: “You’re already happy as it is, well, here’s some more happiness for you!” He himself was in complete ecstasy.

“I spotted this thing for you long ago at the official Morozov’s—for you, old man, for you. It was just sitting there uselessly, he got it from his brother, so I traded him a book for it, A Kinsmanof Mahomet, or Healing Folly,^[279] that was in my papa’s bookcase. It’s a dirty book, published in Moscow a hundred years ago, even before there was any censorship, and just the sort of thing Morozov loves. He even thanked me...”

Kolya held the cannon up in his hand before them all, so that they could all see and delight in it. Ilyusha rose a little, and, still hugging Perezvon with his right arm, studied the toy with admiration. The effect reached its peak when Kolya announced that he had powder as well, and that it would be possible to fire the cannon right then, “if it wouldn’t be too upsetting for the ladies.” “Mama” immediately asked to have a closer look at the cannon, which was granted at once. She liked the little bronze cannon on wheels terribly much and began rolling it across her knees. To the request for permission to fire it, she responded with full consent, having no notion, however, of what she had been asked. Kolya produced the powder and the shot. The captain, as a former military man, saw to the loading himself, poured in a very small quantity of powder, and asked to save the shot for some other time. The cannon was put on the floor, the barrel aimed into empty space, three grains of powder were squeezed into the touch-hole, and it was set off with a match. There was a most spectacular bang. Mama jumped at first, but immediately laughed with joy. The boys gazed in speechless triumph, but most blissfully happy was the captain as he looked at Ilyusha. Kolya took the little cannon and at once presented it to Ilyusha, together with the powder and shot.

“It’s for you, for you! I got it for you long ago,” he repeated once more, in the fullness of happiness. “Ah, give it to me! No, you’d better give the little cannon tome!” mama suddenly began begging like a little girl. Her face wore an expression of sad anxiety for fear they would not give it to her. Kolya was embarrassed. The captain became anxiously worried.

“Mama, mama!” he jumped over to her, “the cannon is yours, yours, but let Ilyusha keep it, because it’s his present, but it’s the same as if it was yours, Ilyushechka will always let you play with it, it can belong to both of you, both...”

“No, I don’t want it to be both of ours, no, I want it to be just mine and not Ilyusha’s,” mama went on, getting ready to cry in earnest.

“Take it, mama, here, take it!” Ilyusha suddenly cried. “Krasotkin, may I give it to mama?” he suddenly turned to Krasotkin with a pleading look, as if he were afraid Krasotkin might be offended if he gave his present to someone else.

“Perfectly possible!” Krasotkin agreed at once, and, taking the little cannon from Ilyusha, he himself handed it to mama with a most polite bow. She even burst into tears, she was so moved.

“Ilyushechka, dear, he loves his dear mama!” she exclaimed tenderly, and immediately began rolling the cannon across her knees again.

“Mama, let me kiss your hand,” her husband jumped close to her and at once carried out his intention.

“And if anyone is the nicest young man of all, it’s this kind boy!” the grateful lady said, pointing to Krasotkin.

“And I’ll bring you as much powder as you want, Ilyusha. We make our own powder now. Borovikov found out the ingredients: twenty-four parts saltpeter, ten parts sulphur, and six of birch charcoal; grind it all together, add some water, mix it into a paste, and rub it through a sieve—and you’ve got powder.”

“Smurov already told me about your powder, only papa says it’s not real powder,” Ilyusha replied.

“What do you mean, not real?” Kolya blushed. “It burns all right. However, I don’t know ...”

“No, sir, it’s nothing, sir,” the captain suddenly jumped over to them with a guilty look. “I did say that real powder is not made like that, but it’s nothing, you can do it like that, sir.”

“I don’t know, you know better. We burned it in a stone pomade jar, it burned well, it all burned away, there was only a little soot left. And that was just the paste, but if you rub it through a sieve ... However, you know better, I don’t know ... And Bulkin got a whipping from his father because of our powder, did you hear?” he suddenly addressed Ilyusha. “I did,” Ilyusha replied. He was listeningto Kolya with infinite curiosity and delight.

“We made a whole bottle of powder, he kept it under his bed. His father saw it. It might explode, he said. And he whipped him right then and there. He wanted to make a complaint about me to the school. Now they won’t let him have anything to do with me, no one is allowed to have anything to do with me now. Smurov isn’t allowed either, I’ve become notorious with everybody; they say I’m a ‘desperado,’ “ Kolya grinned scornfully. “It all started with the railway.”

“Ah, we’ve also heard about that exploit of yours!” exclaimed the captain. “How did you manage to lie there through it? And can it be that you weren’t afraid at all while you were lying under the train? Weren’t you scared, sir?”

The captain was fawning terribly on Kolya.

“N-not particularly!” Kolya replied nonchalantly. “What really botched my reputation around here was that cursed goose,” he again turned to Ilyusha. But though he put on a nonchalant air while he was talking, he still could not control himself and was continually thrown off pitch, as it were.

“Ah, I’ve heard about the goose, too!” Ilyusha laughed, beaming all over. “They told me about it, but I didn’t understand, did they really take you in front of the judge?”

“It was the most brainless, the most insignificant thing, from which, as usual here, they concocted a whole mountain,” Kolya began casually. “I was going across the market square one day, and they’d just driven in some geese. I stopped and looked at the geese. Suddenly a local fellow, Vishnyakov, he’s working as an errand boy for Plotnikov’s now, looked at me and said. ‘What are you looking at the geese for?’ I looked at him: the fellow was no more than twenty, a stupid, round mug, I never reject the people, you know. I like to be with the people ... We lag behind the people—that is an axiom—you seem to be laughing, Karamazov?”