A captivating little foot,
Though swollen and red and tender!
The doctors come and plasters put,
But still they cannot mend her.
Yet, ‘tis not for her foot I dread—
A theme for Pushkin’s muse more fit—
It’s not her foot, it is her head:
I tremble for her loss of wit!
For as her foot swells, strange to say,
Her intellect is on the wane—
Oh, for some remedy I pray
That may restore both foot and brain!
He is a pig, a regular pig, but he’s very arch, the rascal! And he really has put in a progressive idea. And wasn’t he angry when she kicked him out! He was gnashing his teeth!”
“He’s taken his revenge already,” said Alyosha. “He’s written a paragraph about Madame Hohlakov.”
And Alyosha told him briefly about the paragraph in Gossip.
“That’s his doing, that’s his doing!” Mitya as
