y often heard the men talking about his father,
but he paid no attention to what they said, and never told his father
what he heard about him. But one day, in Astrakhan, while the steamer
was taking in a cargo of fuel, Foma heard the voice of Petrovich, the
machinist:

"He ordered such a lot of wood to be taken in. What an absurd man! First
he loads the steamer up to the very deck, and then he roars. 'You
break the machinery too often,' he says. 'You pour oil,' he says, 'at
random.'"

The voice of the gray and stern pilot replied:

"It's all his exorbitant greediness. Fuel is cheaper here, so he is
taking all he can. He is greedy, the devil!"

"Oh, how greedy!"

This word, repeated many times in succession, fixed itself in Foma's
memory, and in the evening, at supper, he suddenly asked his father:

"Papa!"

"What?"

"Are you greedy?"

In reply to his father's questions Foma told him of the conversation
between the pilot and the machinist. Ignat's face became gloomy, and his
eyes began to flash angrily.

"That's how it is," ejaculated Ignat, shaking his head. "Well,
you--don't you listen to them. They are not your equals; don't have
so much to do with them. You are their master, they are your servants,
understand that. If we choose to, we can put every one of them ashore.
They are cheap and they can be found everywhere like dogs. Understand?
They may say many bad things about me. But they say them, because I am
their master. The whole thing arises because I am fortunate and rich,
and the rich are always envied. A happy man is everybody's enemy."

About two days later there was a new pilot and another machinist on the
steamer.

"And where is Yakov?" asked the boy.

"I discharged him. I ordered him away."

"For that?" queried Foma.

"Yes, for that very thing."

"And Petrovich, too?"

"Yes, I sent him the same way."

Foma was pleased with the fact that his father was able to change the
men so quickly. He smiled to his father, and, coming out on the deck,
walked up to a sailor, who sat on the floor, untwisting a piece of rope
and making a swab.

"We have a new pilot here," announced Foma.

"I know. Good health to you, Foma Ignatich! How did you sleep?"

"And a new machinist, too."

"And a new machinist. Are you sorry for Petrovich?"

"Really? And he was so good to you."

"Well, why did he abuse my father?"

"Oh? Did he abuse him?"

"Of course he did. I heard it myself."

"Mm--and your f