Sighing profoundly, Udodoff sits down beside his son and opens the boy’s ragged grammar. Ziboroff begins examining Pete before his father, thinking to himself: “I’ll just show that stupid father what a stupid son he has!” The high-school boy is seized with the fury of the examiner and is ready to beat the little red-cheeked numskull before him, he hates and despises him so. He is even annoyed when the youngster hits on the right answer to one of his questions. How odious this little Pete seems to him!
“You don’t even know the second declension! You don’t even know the first! This is the way you learn your lessons! Come, tell me, what is the vocative of meus filius?”
“The vocative of meus filius? Why the vocative of meus filius is—it is——”
Pete stares hard at the ceiling and moves his lips inaudibly. No answer comes.
“What is the dative of dea?”
“Deabus—filiabus!” Pete bursts out.
Old Udodoff nods approvingly. The high-school boy, who was not expecting a correct answer, feels annoyed.
“What other nouns have their dative in abus?” he asks.
It appears that anima, the soul, has its dative in abus, something that is not to be found in any grammar.
“What a melodious language Latin is!” observes Udodoff. “Alontron—bonus—anthropos—how marvellous! It is all very important!” he concludes with a sigh.