"I want to sing, it."
"There is no need for that, though presently you shall sing it. For the moment your task is to learn the correct speaking of things. So say after me—"
"O Lo-ord, have mercy!" came in a quiet, thoughtful chant from the idiot. Whereafter he added in the coaxing tone of a child:
"We shall all of us have to die."
"Yes, but come, come!" expostulated Vologonov. "What are you blurting out NOW? That much I know without your telling me—always have I known, little friend, that each of us is hastening towards his death. Yet your want of understanding exceeds what should be."
"Dogs run-"
"Dogs? Now, enough, little fellow."
"Dogs run like chickens. They run here, in the ravine," continued Nilushka in the murmuring accents of a child of three.
"Nevertheless," mused Vologonov, "even that seeming nothing of his may mean something. Yes, there may lie in it a great deal. Now, say: 'Perdition will arise before him who shall hasten.'"
"No, I want to SING something."