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‘Perezvon! Perezvon,’ called Ilusha suddenly, snapping
his thin fingers and beckoning to the dog.
‘What is it? Let him jump up on the bed! Ici, Perezvon!’
Kolya slapped the bed and Perezvon darted up by Ilusha.
The boy threw both arms round his head and Perezvon in-
stantly licked his cheek. Ilusha crept close to him, stretched
himself out in bed and hid his face in the dog’s shaggy coat.
‘Dear, dear!’ kept exclaiming the captain. Kolya sat down
again on the edge of the bed.
‘Ilusha, I can show you another trick. I’ve brought you
a little cannon. You remember, I told you about it before
and you said how much you’d like to see it. Well, here, I’ve
brought it to you.’
And Kolya hurriedly pulled out of his satchel the little
bronze cannon. He hurried, because he was happy him-
self. Another time he would have waited till the sensation
made by Perezvon had passed off, now he hurried on, re-
gardless of all consideration. ‘You are all happy now,’ he felt,
‘so here’s something to make you happier!’ He was perfectly
enchanted himself.
‘I’ve been coveting this thing for a long while; it’s for you,
old man, it’s for you. It belonged to Morozov, it was no use
to him, he had it from his brother. I swopped a book from fa-
ther’s book-case for it, A Kinsman of Mahomet, or Salutary
Folly, a scandalous book published in Moscow a hundred
years ago, before they had any censorship. And Morozov
has a taste for such things. He was grateful to me, too...’
Kolya held the cannon in his hand so that all could see
and admire it. Ilusha raised himself, and, with his right arm