"Gavrik! What is your father?"
"He's a postman."
"Are you a big family?"
"Big? There's a crowd of us. Some grown-up, but some are still little."
"How many little ones?"
"Five, and three grown-up. We three have all got places. I'm with you, Vassili is in Siberia in a telegraph office, Sonyka gives lessons. She earns a lot, twelve roubles a month. Then there's Mishka—he is older than I am, but he's still at school."
"Then there are four grown-up, not three?"
"No, how?" cried Gavrik, and added sententiously: "Mishka is still learning, but a grown-up is one who works."
"Do you have a hard time at home?"
"Rather," answered Gavrik indifferently, and sniffed loudly. Then he began to explain his schemes for the future.