em.
We'll see what sort of boys they are."

"Smolin asked me to come to him this Sunday," said Foma, looking up at
his father questioningly.

"So. Well, you may go! That's all right, go. Observe what kind of
people there are in the world. You cannot pass your life alone, without
friendship. Your godfather and I, for instance, have been friends for
more than twenty years, and I have profited a great deal by his common
sense. So you, too, try to be friendly with those that are better and
wiser than you. Rub against a good man, like a copper coin against
silver, and you may then pass for a silver coin yourself."

And, bursting into laughter at his comparison, Ignat added seriously:

"I was only jesting. Try to be, not artificial, but genuine. And have
some common sense, no matter how little, but your own. Have you many
lessons to do?"

"Many!" sighed the boy, and to his sigh, like an echo, his aunt answered
with a heavy sigh.

"Well, study. Don't be worse than others at school. Although, I'll tell
you, even if there were twenty-five classes in your school, they could
never teach you there anything save reading, writing and arithmetic. You
may also learn some naughty things, but God protect you! I shall give
you a terrible spanking if you do. If you smoke tobacco I'll cut your
lips off."

"Remember God, Fomushka," said the aunt. "See that you don't forget our
Lord."

"That's true! Honour God and your father. But I wish to tell you that
school books are but a trivial matter. You need these as a carpenter
needs an adze and a pointer. They are tools, but the tools cannot teach
you how to make use of them. Understand? Let us see: Suppose an adze
were handed to a carpenter for him to square a beam with it. It's not
enough to have hands and an adze; it is also necessary for him to know
how to strike the wood so as not to hit his foot instead. To you the
knowledge of reading and writing is given, and you must regulate your
life with it. Thus it follows that books alone are but a trifle in this
matter; it is necessary to be able to take advantage of them. And it is
this ability that is more cunning than any books, and yet nothing about
it is written in the books. This, Foma, you must learn from Life itself.
A book is a dead thing, you may take it as you please, you may tear it,
break it--it will not cry out. While should you but make a single wrong
step in life, or wrongly occupy a place in it, Life will start to bawl
at