And just where did Nikita Ivanich put that post? Right by the Work Izba. Wasn't that Freethinking? The sleighs wouldn't be able to turn around! Benedikt grabbed a handful of snow, held it to his lump, and stood there, reading the inscription: "Pioneer of Printing: Ivan Fyodorov." Hunh. Fancy shmancy. Come on now, let's pull it out. Benedikt grasped the stupid thing, strained, yanked, and pulled it out. He threw it down. Kicked it. Looked around. No one. Too bad Olenka or the other girls didn't see how strong he was.

There were sooooo many people in the izba. Tons and tons. Sweetie-pie Olenka was there. Sitting, blushing, her eyes lowered. But she did glance at Benedikt. Good. And Varvara Lukinishna was there, talking to Olenka, talking their girl talk. And Ksenia the Orphan. And Vasiuk the Earful.

Soon they'll announce it: time to start working. Good that he wasn't late. Being late doesn't matter, but people start to look and whisper: has he fallen ill, God forbid, God forbid. Knock on wood. True, as far back as Benedikt can remember, no one in their izba has ever fallen ill, knock on wood. Someone might get a scratchy throat or a headache-but that's not Illness, God forbid, God forbid. A finger might break, or you might get a black eye-that's not Illness either, God forbid, God forbid. Sometimes the hiccups get ahold of you-but that's not Illness, God forbid, God forbid. If the hiccups get you, you say three times:

Hiccup, Hiccup, Go see Jacob, From Jacob to John, From John on and on.

They'll go away. If you get a sty on your eye, then you need a stronger spell so it'll last. You blow three times, spit three times, stand still on one leg, grab your other leg with your hand, hold it, and God forbid don't fall. And say: