"That's cleverly aimed!" Every now and again there flashed before him the familiar names of merchants and well-known citizens, whom Yozhov had stung, now stoutly and sharply, now respectfully and with a fine needle-like sting.
Foma's approbation, his eyes burning with satisfaction, and his excited face gave Yozhov still more inspiration, and he cried and roared ever louder and louder, now falling on the lounge from exhaustion, now jumping up again and rushing toward Foma.
"Come, now, read about me!" exclaimed Foma, longing to hear it.

Yozhov rummaged among a pile of papers, tore out one sheet, and holding it in both hands, stopped in front of Foma, with his legs straddled wide apart, while Foma leaned back in the broken-seated armchair and listened with a smile.
The notice about Foma started with a description of the spree on the rafts, and during the reading of the notice Foma felt that certain particular words stung him like mosquitoes.

His face became more serious, and he bent his head in gloomy silence.

And the mosquitoes went on multiplying.
"Now that's too much!" said he, at length, confused and dissatisfied.
"Surely you cannot gain the favour of God merely because you know how to disgrace a man." "Keep quiet! Wait awhile!" said Yozhov, curtly, and went on reading.
Having established in his article that the merchant rises beyond doubt above the representatives of other classes of society in the matter of nuisance and scandal-making, Yozhov asked: "Why is this so ?" and replied: "It seems to me that this predilection for wild pranks comes from the lack of culture in so far as it is dependent upon the excess of energy and upon idleness.

There cannot be any doubt that our merchant class, with but few exceptions, is the healthiest and, at the same time, most inactive class." "That's true!" exclaimed Foma, striking the table with his fist.