What was I to do? I screamed to the sun:
'It doesn't hurt me, you red devil; it doesn't hurt me!' and stuck
out my tongue at him. And I felt comforted."
"Why did the sun seem red to you?" Pavel asked, laughing.
"There was a blacksmith opposite our house, with fine red cheeks,
and a huge red beard. I thought the sun resembled him."
The mother lost patience and said:
"You'd better talk about your arrangements for the procession."
"Everything's been arranged," said Pavel.
"No use talking of things once decided upon. It only confuses the
mind," the Little Russian added. "If we are all arrested, Nikolay
Ivanovich will come and tell you what to do. He will help you in
every way."
"All right," said the mother with a heavy sigh.
"Let's go out," said Pavel dreamily.
"No, rather stay indoors," replied Andrey. "No need to annoy the
eyes of the police so often. They know you well enough."
Fedya Mazin came running in, all aglow, with red spots on his cheeks,
quivering with youthful joy. His animation dispelled the tedium of
expectation for them.
"It's begun!" he reported. "The people are all out on the street,
their faces sharp as the edge of an ax.
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