The short sulky questions, and the hoarse, harsh voice made a painful impression on Ilya. He wanted to ask Pashka where he had been all the summer and what he had seen. But Pashka, who had found a chair and begun to gnaw his bread, started questioning on his own account. "Finished school?" "Early next year I'm done." "Well, I've done my learning too!" "Why--how?" said Ilya, incredulously. "I've been pretty quick, eh?" "Where did you learn?" "In prison, with the prisoners." Ilya approached him and asked, looking respectfully into the thin face, "How long were you in? Was it bad?" "Oh, not so bad--four months I had of it in several prisons and different towns. I got to know some fine people there, my boy, ladies too--real swells! Spoke different languages and knew everything. I always swept out their cells. Very nice people they were, if they were in gaol." "Were they thieves?" "No, regular villains," answered Pashka, proudly. Ilya blinked and his respect for Pashka increased still more. "Russians?" "A couple of Jews too--fine fellows! I tell you, my lad, they knew their way about. Stripped everyone that they got a hand on--properly. Got caught in the end, and now going to Siberia!" "But how did you learn things there?" "Oh! I just said 'teach me to read,' and they did." "Have you learnt to write too?" "Writing I'm not so good at, but I'll read as much as you like. I've read lots of books already." Ilya became excited now the conversation turned on books. "I read with Jakov, too," he said, "and such books!" Both began to name all the books they had read, in rivalry. Pashka had to admit with a sigh: "I see, you've read the most, you lucky devil, and your books are nicer too. I've read mostly poetry. They had a lot of books there, but nearly all verses." Jakov came in at this point, he raised his eyebrows and laughed: "Now then sheep, what are you laughing at?" Pashka greeted him. "Hullo! Where have you been?" "Where you'll never be able to go." "Just think," put in Ilya, "he's been reading books, too!" "Really?" said Jakov, and came nearer in a more friendly way. The three boys sat close together, in lively desultory conversation. "I've seen such things, I couldn't even tell you!" cried Pashka, proud and excited. "Once I went two days without eating--not a bite! I've spent a night in the forest, alone." "Was it bad?" asked Ilya. "You go and try it, then you'll know. And once the dogs nearly killed me. That was in Kazan, where they put up a monument to a man, just because he made verses. A great, big man he was--his legs, I tell you, as thick as that, and his fist as big as your head, Jakov. I'll make you some poetry, boys--I know how, a bit." He suddenly sat straight up, drew his legs in, and, looking steadily at one point, he said, quickly, with a serious, important air:----