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Page 7
It was getting towards evening. He walked slowly, watching the water.
All of a sudden he fancied something was floundering in the mud close to
the bank. He stooped over, and saw a little white-and-black puppy, who,
in spite of all its efforts, could not get out of the water; it was
struggling, slipping back, and trembling all over its thin wet little
body. Gerasim looked at the unlucky little dog, picked it up with one
hand, put it into the bosom of his coat, and hurried with long steps
homewards. He went into his garret, put the rescued puppy on his bed,
covered it with his thick overcoat, ran first to the stable for straw,
and then to the kitchen for a cup of milk. Carefully folding back the
overcoat, and spreading out the straw, he set the milk on the bedstead.
The poor little puppy was not more than three weeks old, its eyes were
just open--one eye still seemed rather larger than the other; it did not
know how to lap out of a cup, and did nothing but shiver and blink.
Gerasim took hold of its head softly with two fingers, and dipped its
little nose into the milk. The pup suddenly began lapping greedily,
sniffing, shaking itself, and choking. Gerasim watched and watched it,
and all at once he laughed outright. . . . All night long he was waiting
on it, keeping it covered, and rubbing it dry. He fell asleep himself at
last, and slept quietly and happily by its side.
No mother could have looked after her baby as Gerasim looked after his
little nursling. At first she--for the pup turned out to be a bitch--was
very weak, feeble, and ugly, but by degrees she grew stronger and
improved in looks, and, thanks to the unflagging care of her preserver,
in eight months' time she was transformed into a very pretty dog of the
spaniel breed, with long ears, a bushy spiral tail, and large,
expressive eyes. She was devotedly attached to Gerasim, and was never a
yard from his side; she always followed him about wagging her tail. He
had even given her a name--the dumb know that their inarticulate noises
call the attention of others. He called her Mumu. All the servants in
the house liked her, and called her Mumu, too. She was very intelligent,
she was friendly with every one, but was only fond of Gerasim. Gerasim,
on his side, loved her passionately, and he did not like it when other
people stroked her; whether he was afraid for her, or jealous--God
knows! She used to wake him in the morning, pulling at his coat; she
used to take the reins in her mouth, and bring him up the old horse that
carried the water, with whom she was on very friendly terms. With a face
of great importance, she used to go with him to the river; she used to
watch his brooms and spades, and never allowed any one to go into his
garret. He cut a little hole in his door on purpose for her, and she
seemed to feel that only in Gerasim's garret she was completely mistress
and at home; and directly she went in, she used to jump with a satisfied
air upon the bed. At night she did not sleep at all, but she never
barked without sufficient cause, like some stupid house-dog, who,
sitting on its hind-legs, blinking, with its nose in the air, barks
simply from dullness, at the stars, usually three times in succession.
No! Mumu's delicate little voice was never raised without good reason;
either some stranger was passing close to the fence, or there was some
suspicious sound or rustle somewhere. . . . In fact, she was an excellent
watch-dog. It is true that there was another dog in the yard, a tawny
old dog with brown spots, called Wolf, but he was never, even at night,
let off the chain; and, indeed, he was so decrepit that he did not even
wish for freedom. He used to lie curled up in his kennel, and only
rarely uttered a sleepy, almost noiseless bark, which broke off at once,
as though he were himself aware of its uselessness. Mumu never went into
the mistress's house; and when Gerasim carried wood into the rooms, she
always stayed behind, impatiently waiting for him at the steps, pricking
up her ears and turning her head to right and to left at the slightest
creak of the door . . .
So passed another year. Gerasim went on performing his duties as house-
porter, and was very well content with his lot, when suddenly an
unexpected incident occurred. . . . One fine summer day the old lady was
walking up and down the drawing-room with her dependants. She was in
high spirits; she laughed and made jokes. Her servile companions laughed
and joked too, but they did not feel particularly mirthful; the
household did not much like it, when their mistress was in a lively
mood, for, to begin with, she expected from every one prompt and
complete participation in her merriment, and was furious if any one
showed a face that did not beam with delight; and secondly, these
outbursts never lasted long with her, and were usually followed by a
sour and gloomy mood. That day she had got up in a lucky hour; at cards
she took the four knaves, which means the fulfilment of one's wishes
(she used to try her fortune on the cards every morning), and her tea
struck her as particularly delicious, for which her maid was rewarded by
words of praise, and by twopence in money. With a sweet smile on her
wrinkled lips, the lady walked about the drawing-room and went up to the
window. A flower-garden had been laid out before the window, and in the
very middle bed, under a rosebush, lay Mumu busily gnawing a bone. The
lady caught sight of her.
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