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 EVENTS IN THE SCHOOL-LIFE OF DMITRI TERENTIEFF.
 
 SCHOOLBOY DAYS 
 
 IN RUSSIA 
 
 BY 
 
 ANDRE LAURIE, 
 
 TRANSLATED BY LAURA E. KENDALL 
 
 BOSTON 
 ESTES AND LAURIAT 
 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 Copyright, 1892, 
 BY ESTES AND LAURIAT. 
 
 3Snttoraitg 
 JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. A CRUSHING BLOW 9 
 
 II. RECOLLECTIONS OF MY CHILDHOOD 28 
 
 III. THE HAUNTED LAKE 43 
 
 IV. SACHA 57 
 
 V. A THRILLING ADVENTURE WITH A WOLF .... 71 
 
 VI. THE SITOVKA FAIR 85 
 
 VII. AN IRREPARABLE Loss 98 
 
 VIII. A CRUEL DISAPPOINTMENT 114 
 
 IX. HOMELESS AND FRIENDLESS IN A STRANGE CITY . 129 
 
 X. NEW FACES 147 
 
 XI. A FAMOUS MUSICIAN 160 
 
 XII. THE BITER BITTEN 173 
 
 XIII. MY VOCATION REVEALS ITSELF AT LAST .... 188 
 
 XIV. A SURPRISE 201 
 
 XV. THE VAMPIRE 217 
 
 XVI. A RACE ON SKATES . 229 
 
 XVII. GRICHINE'S SECRET 247 
 
 XVIII. THE TRIAL 263 
 
 XIX. EXTRACT FROM THE Moscow CHRONICLE .... 278 
 
 XX. EIGHT YEARS AFTERWARD 292 
 
 XXI. MY SYMPHONY 305 
 
 XXII. A STRANGE WEDDING-GIFT. CONCLUSION . . . 318
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 EVENTS IN THE SCHOOL LIFE OF DMITRI TERENTIEFF Frontispiece. 
 
 "I GAZED LONG AND SILENTLY AT THE PAPER" 13 
 
 "CAYENNE PEPPER STUNG HIS NOSTRILS AND FILLED HIS 
 
 EYES WITH BLINDING TEARS " 29 
 
 "Mv FATHER APPEARED UPON THE THRESHOLD, LAMP IN 
 
 HAND" 53 
 
 " I PLACED BEFORE HIM A BIG EARTHEN PAN OF WATER " ' 67 
 
 DMITRI RESCUING SACHA FROM THE WOLF 79 
 
 PORPHYRE AND THE ClRCUS HORSE 93 
 
 " THAT CHILD is CHARMING " 107 
 
 " ' I WANT TO SEE M. BEREZOFF,' I REPLIED " . . . 121 
 
 DMITRI'S EXPERIENCE AT HIS LODGING-HOUSE 143 
 
 DMITRI IN PERPLEXITY ABOUT HIS NIGHT'S LODGING ... 157 
 
 DMITRI IN THE OLD MUSICIAN'S ROOM 169 
 
 STRODTM ANN'S EXPERIENCE IN THE TOOL-HOUSE .... 183 
 
 DMITRI DEEP IN HIS MUSICAL STUDIES 197 
 
 DMITRI'S MEETING WITH SNAP AND PORPHYRE 205 
 
 "WHAT DELIGHTFUL HOURS I SPENT ALONE AT THE ORGAN" 225 
 
 DMITRI AND SACHA AT THE ICE CARNIVAL 241 
 
 GRICHINK AND HIS PROTEGEES 257 
 
 " IT WAS SNAP, MY POOR, FAITHFUL DOG ! " 267 
 
 SACHA IN THE COURT-ROOM 283 
 
 SACHA INTRODUCED TO COUNT OTTAVIO 299 
 
 "I AM PROUD OF YOU, DMITRI" 31 I 
 
 " IT IS TO MY DEAR SACHA THAT I DEDICATE THESE RE- 
 COLLECTIONS OF MY LIFE" 325
 
 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A CRUSHING BLOW. 
 
 MY name is Dmitri F6dorovitch Te'rentieff. I am just 
 sixteen, and since Easter I have been a member of 
 the Senior Class in Saint- Vladimir Gymnasium, Moscow, 
 where I have been pursuing my studies for the past two 
 years. 
 
 A most appalling and unjust accusation is now hanging 
 over me, and it is in the depths of a gloomy dungeon 
 that I am writing these lines. The heavily barred window 
 that lights my cell is so small that I can scarcely see; 
 nevertheless I shall persevere in my attempt to write my 
 vindication, to prove by a truthful account of my whole
 
 10 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 life that I am entirely innocent of the terrible crime of 
 which I am accused. 
 
 I think I know the real culprit. It is one of my col- 
 lege mates. A word from me would, perhaps, suffice to 
 immure him in this gloomy prison, to which I was brought 
 two days ago, to make him the inmate of this damp cell 
 infested with rats and vermin : I can hear the rats running 
 about now, under the dirty straw that serves as my couch. 
 He would receive from the hand of the jailer the loaf of 
 black bread and jug of water which constitute my rations 
 for each day ; he would find his fingers and feet becom- 
 ing more and more benumbed by the cold wind that blows 
 through the bars of my window; he would wear these 
 heavy chains ; he would be the object of general distrust 
 and suspicion. 
 
 But how can I accuse another person without proofs* 
 especially when that other person is a schoolmate, and I 
 have only some rather vague charges to make against 
 him, charges based probably to a great extent upon the 
 antipathy and distrust with which he inspired me from the 
 beginning of our acquaintance? 
 
 No, I suffer too much myself under this unjust accusa- 
 tion to be willing to incur any risk of inflicting like suffer- 
 ing upon another innocent person. I have no real proofs, 
 so I shall be silent But I may surely be allowed to speak 
 frankly to myself; so I feel no scruples about tracing 
 upon these pages, intended for my eye alone, the name 
 of Capiton Karlovitch Strodtmann. He is the person 
 whom I believe to be guilty of the heinous crime of which 
 I am accused. 
 
 I will begin by briefly narrating the events which imme- 
 diately preceded my incarceration here, This is the sev-
 
 A CRUSHING BLOW. II 
 
 
 
 enteenth day of April. On the morning of the fourteenth, 
 I reached the Gymnasium about eight o'clock, as usual, 
 and was not a little surprised to see two policemen standing 
 outside the gate, and two more inside the courtyard. 
 
 They instantly surrounded me; and as I stood there 
 gazing in silent amazement, first at the officers and then 
 at my fellow-students congregated about the gateway, the 
 sergeant asked, 
 
 " Are you Dmitri Terentieff? " 
 
 " That is my name." 
 
 " Then follow me." 
 
 Preceded by the sergeant, and closely followed by the 
 other officers, I went up to the president's room. We 
 found M. P6revsky in his private office; and strange to 
 say, this gentleman, who is usually so calm and so ab- 
 sorbed in thought that we call him " the moonstruck 
 philosopher," was striding wildly to and fro like a mad 
 man, with his spectacles perched on the top of his head. 
 A scrap of paper, which he crumpled nervously in his 
 agitation, was in his hand. 
 
 As I entered the room, escorted by the policeman, 
 M. SareVine, the assistant superintendent, together with 
 several of our teachers, came in by another door. 
 
 Our worthy president seated himself at his desk, and 
 surveying me with a troubled air which I had never ob- 
 served in him before, said gravely, 
 
 " Dmitri Terentieff, a most unfortunate affair which 
 compromises you deeply has occurred here. You are 
 about to be examined in regard to it. Answer all ques- 
 tions that may be put to you frankly, and without dis- 
 guising anything. Paul Petrovitch Sarevine, I yield the 
 floor to you. Question the accused."
 
 12 ^ SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 Stunned by this ominous preamble, I did not even hear 
 the first few questions the assistant superintendent ad- 
 dressed to me, but gazed at him in silence, vaguely 
 wondering of what crime I could be suspected. 
 
 Our assistant superintendent, M. Sare"vine, is a man 
 about forty-eight years of age, a giant in stature, who 
 always reminds me of a colonel in the Imperial Guard. 
 He wears a long black mustache, and has bushy eye- 
 brows that nearly cover his eyes when he is irritated, and 
 contracts them. His severity, or rather the immense im- 
 portance he attaches to discipline, amounts to positive 
 fanaticism, and makes him a much more formidable per- 
 sonage than our kind-hearted president, who had sunk 
 back in his armchair, and was surveying me with more 
 sorrow than anger in his gaze. 
 
 " Dmitri T6rentieff," said M. Bare" vine, omitting, inten- 
 tionally perhaps, my middle name, 1 " look at this paper, 
 and tell me if it belongs to you." 
 
 My heart failed me, for it was a scrap of music paper 
 upon which I had begun to jot down a melody of my own 
 composition during study hours, the afternoon before, 
 instead of preparing my lessons. Supposing I was about 
 to be punished for this violation of rules, a breach of 
 discipline which our superintendent never overlooked, it 
 was in a faltering voice that I began to stammer out an 
 excuse. 
 
 " Does this scrap of paper belong to you? Yes or no," 
 demanded M. SareVine, sternly. 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 1 In Russia, it is considered polite to add the father's Christian name to 
 that of the son ; as, Dmitri Fedorovitch Terentieff, that is to say, Dmitri, 
 son of Fedor Terentieff.
 
 " I GAZED LONG AND SILENTLY AT THE PAPER."
 
 A CRUSHING BLOW. 15 
 
 "Did you write this?" continued the superintendent, 
 showing me the other side of the sheet. 
 
 I gazed in wonder at the words inscribed upon it, for I 
 had certainly jotted down only a few bars of music upon 
 it the day before, having purchased the paper that very 
 morning; but this was certainly my handwriting. I re- 
 cognized the curve of my b's, the little quirl with which I 
 finish my e's, and above all my capitals, which are very 
 like those we see in type, in short, all the peculiarities of 
 my chirography, which is fuller, rounder, and bolder than 
 that of the majority of my fellow students. 
 
 In my profound astonishment, I gazed long and silently 
 at the paper, reading the following words over again and 
 again without the slightest comprehension of their 
 meaning : 
 
 "Death-warrant of M. Gavruchka, door-keeper at Saint- 
 Vladimir College ! " 
 
 " Answer me," thundered M. Sarevine. " Do you 
 recognize this scrap of paper? Was it you who penned 
 these lines?" 
 
 " It looks like my handwriting, but I certainly did not 
 write it," I faltered. 
 
 " My boy, my boy, tell the truth," interposed the pre- 
 sident. " An offence committed thoughtlessly can be 
 forgiven, but obstinacy and falsehood only aggravate it." 
 
 " Ivan Alexandrovitch Perevsky," I responded earnestly, 
 " my father never told an untruth, and taught me never to 
 utter a falsehood under any circumstances. What I just 
 said is the truth." 
 
 " Take care ! " exclaimed M. Sarevine. " I have 
 warned you that your words may be fraught with the
 
 1 6 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 gravest consequences to yourself. Do you persist in your 
 denial? " 
 
 "Yes, sir; I did not write these words. I am even 
 ignorant of their meaning." 
 
 " Very well," said M. Sar6vine. Then, turning to a 
 person I had not noticed before, seated in a window niche, 
 he asked, 
 
 " Are you taking all this down, Golovetchov? " 
 
 " Yes, in shorthand," was the response. 
 
 Behold, my former instructor in stenography was 
 evidently acting as clerk of the investigation. Good 
 heavens ! what did all this mean ? 
 
 " Bring Strodtmann in," ordered the superintendent. 
 
 My classmate was immediately ushered into the room. 
 He is a fellow I have always disliked. He is of German 
 descent on his father's side; Russian, on his mother's. 
 We are about the same age. He is tall, about my height, 
 indeed ; and like me, he has light hair and wears a white 
 cap. 
 
 Like me, too, he is one of the least gifted pupils of the 
 senior class. He comes out of his examinations no better 
 than I do ; nor is his career as a student attended with any 
 more brilliant success. In short, there is some resemblance 
 between us, but the resemblance, I trust, is only superficial. 
 In character, we are direct opposites, at least I hope so. 
 
 At first, I could not believe that he was really going to 
 testify against me ; but I was soon undeceived. 
 
 "Capiton Karlovitch Strodtmann, let us hear the facts 
 so far as you know them," said the superintendent. 
 
 Capiton, who had been unusually pale when he entered, 
 blushed deeply on hearing these words ; and it seemed to 
 me that he avoided my gaze.
 
 A CRUSHING BLOW. 17 
 
 " The facts are as follows," he answered, in a rather care- 
 less tone. " Yesterday I devoted the last hour of the 
 session, as usual, to the preparation of my Greek transla- 
 tion. There were only a few students in the room, eight 
 or nine in all, perhaps, and among them, my classmate 
 now present. Having occasion to look out a word in my 
 Greek dictionary, I discovered that I had left it at home. 
 All my classmates were using theirs except Terentieff, 
 who was writing something on a large sheet of paper. I 
 approached him to ask him to lend me his lexicon ; and on 
 seeing me coming he concealed the paper so I could not 
 see what he was writing. I had time, however, to catch a 
 glimpse of some bold letters written upon a sheet of music 
 paper." 
 
 " Dmitri Terentieff, do you admit the truth of this state- 
 ment? " interposed M. Sarevine. 
 
 " Yes, except in regard to the bold letters written upon 
 the paper. It was music I was writing, notes and not 
 words." 
 
 " Then why did you hide the paper when your class- 
 mate approached you?" 
 
 " Because because it was " I paused, greatly 
 embarrassed. I hated so to confess the truth, to ac- 
 knowledge that this music was of my own composition. 
 How could I confess that music was the one engrossing 
 passion of my life? How could I confess that strange, 
 entrancing melodies were ever transporting my soul upon 
 their powerful pinions far, far from Greek and Latin, 
 far from the grim walls of Saint- Vladimir and Moscow, up 
 to the very gates of heaven. How could I confess to 
 these indifferent and perhaps hostile ears that I was 
 dreaming of abandoning science for art, letters for divine
 
 1 8 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 harmony; that the composition of a great symphony 
 haunts me day and night, and that I was jotting down one 
 of the melodies yesterday during study hours? Why 
 should I disclose my secret to every one, and expose my- 
 self to the ridicule of my classmates and the scorn of my 
 instructors? 
 
 I resolved to say no more. 
 
 " Your silence compromises you deeply," said M. Sare- 
 vine, after a moment. " Answer, why did you conceal the 
 paper from your classmate? " 
 
 " I did not wish him to see what I was writing." 
 
 " And why? " 
 
 " I do not care to divulge my reasons." 
 
 A disapproving murmur resounded through the room. 
 The president silenced it with a gesture, then, turning 
 kindly to me, he urged me to keep nothing back ; but I 
 could not make up my mind to speak. 
 
 " Finish your deposition, Strodtmann," said the super- 
 intendent. 
 
 " I returned to my seat, and went to work again upon 
 my translation. About five o'clock, M. Sarevine entered 
 the study hall. I glanced at Te"rentieff, and saw him hastily 
 slip the big sheet of paper into his desk again. M. Sare- 
 vine made his round, and went out. Dmitri Fedorovitch 
 had his books open on the desk before him, and seemed 
 to be studying hard all the time the superintendent was 
 in the room. Five minutes after M. Sardvine went out, 
 the bell sounded. Dmitri was one of the first to leave 
 the room. He had his lunch basket under his arm, and 
 at the time I thought it more than probable that he had 
 placed the paper in it, and shortly afterwards I discovered 
 that such was really the fact."
 
 A CRUSHING BLOW. 19 
 
 " Strodtmann is mistaken ! " I exclaimed hastily; " I left 
 the paper in my desk, under my portfolio." 
 
 " Do not interrupt the witness," said M. Sarevine, 
 sternly. 
 
 " Dmitri having left without asking me for his diction- 
 ary," continued Strodtmann, " I went to his desk to replace 
 the book before starting for home." 
 
 " Were any of your classmates still in the study 
 hall?" 
 
 " No, they had all left. Gavruchka, the janitor, was the 
 only person in the room besides myself. As I opened 
 Dmitri's desk, I happened to think of the mysterious 
 paper, and my curiosity having been aroused in regard 
 to it, I thought I 'd look for it." 
 
 " This is a little too much ! " I cried indignantly. " How 
 impertinent in you to dare to rummage about among my 
 private papers, and then boast of it, into the bargain ! " 
 
 " I have already told you that you are not to interrupt the 
 witness," said M. Sarevine, sternly. "What followed?" 
 
 "I did not find the paper; but while I was putting 
 things in order, our classmate, Serge Kratkine, re-entered 
 the study hall. 
 
 "'What are you looking for?' he asked. 'Why are 
 you rummaging in Dmitri's desk? You know very well 
 that he won't like it.' 
 
 " ' I am only returning his dictionary,' I replied, think- 
 ing it advisable, quite as much on Dmitri's account as on 
 my own, to make no allusion to the mysterious paper 
 which was no longer in his desk. He had evidently taken 
 it away with him, as I suspected when I saw him leave 
 the room." 
 
 A wild paroxysm of anger seized me at this point in
 
 2O SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 Strodtmann's testimony. His impertinent act, and the way 
 in which he mingled truth with falsehood in his statements, 
 exasperated me beyond endurance. 
 
 " What do you mean? " I shouted angrily. " After being 
 guilty of the gross outrage of tampering with my private 
 papers in order to ferret out my secrets, how dare you lie, 
 and say that the paper was not there? Doubtless you 
 have stolen it; for though I have no idea of your motive 
 in inventing all this, I know you well enough to feel 
 certain that you are plotting some villany." 
 
 As I uttered these words in tones of frantic rage, I saw 
 Strodtmann turn pale ; and the look he bestowed upon me 
 was so full of hatred that it astonished me, though no one 
 else seemed to notice it. 
 
 " Your very anger is conclusive evidence against you," 
 interrupted M. SareVine, in tones of icy coldness. " Go 
 on with your testimony, witness." 
 
 " But he lies, Mr. Superintendent ! " I cried hotly. 
 " He pretends that he did not find this paper, this per- 
 fectly harmless paper, and I solemnly swear to you that 
 I left it in my desk, under my books, where I supposed it 
 perfectly safe, though that was really of very little con- 
 sequence, as I had written only two or three bars of 
 music on it. Who could have had the audacity to take 
 it and write all this nonsense, and above all, imitate my 
 handwriting so carefully? It is incomprehensible. And 
 if the paper was not found in my desk, where did it 
 come from ? " 
 
 " It was not in your desk that we found it, I regret to 
 say," replied our worthy president, in grave and troubled 
 tones. " The paper, Dmitri, was picked up this morning, 
 in my presence, by M. SareVine, in the room of Janitor
 
 A CRUSHING BLOW. 21 
 
 Gavruchka, the unfortunate victim of an assault of which 
 you are the supposed perpetrator." 
 
 "Gavruchka? Victim?" I repeated, without compre- 
 hending in the least. 
 
 Up to that time, Gavruchka had certainly never figured 
 in the r61e of a victim, but rather in the role of a tyrant 
 and persecutor. For years all the students, young and 
 old, had cordially united in anathematizing this function- 
 ary, who had seemed to delight in humiliating them in 
 every possible way ; so upon hearing the president's word, 
 I instantly concluded that some rough trick had been 
 played upon the unpopular janitor. 
 
 " Then some one thought to play a joke upon Gavruchka 
 by sending him this paper, I suppose, but I know nothing 
 at all about it," I answered carelessly. 
 
 " The joke was a very serious one," responded M. Sare- 
 vine, curtly. "Gavruchka was found unconscious, and to 
 all appearance lifeless, in his room at seven o'clock this 
 morning, and everything seems to indicate that he has been 
 the victim of a violent assault. He has rallied a little, but 
 he is still unable to utter a word, and it seems more than 
 probable that he will die from the rough usage he has 
 received, as his brain is seriously injured. Appearances 
 are certainly very much against you, and you would do 
 well, I think, to confess your guilt without further delay. 
 Name your accomplices, and explain to us how a joke 
 could have degenerated into such a heinous crime. Once 
 more, and for the last time, I entreat you to confess all." 
 
 I was overwhelmed with consternation by this announce- 
 ment. Gavruchka lying at the point of death ! and I 
 Dmitri Terentieff accused of being his assassin! They 
 could calmly announce such a fact to me ! They believed
 
 22 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 me capable of such a crime ! The mere thought was 
 enough to drive one mad. For a moment my head 
 whirled wildly round and round ; then a terrible darkness 
 seemed to settle down upon me, and like one in a dream I 
 listened to the testimony of the other witnesses. 
 
 Serge Arcadievitch Kratkine, my most intimate friend, 
 was next summoned. He confirmed Strodtmann's testi- 
 mony in relation to his return to the study hall, and stated 
 that he and Strodtmann left the building together. Serge 
 felt sure that I was innocent; but he had no proof of 
 it, and was even compelled to admit that the writing 
 corresponded with mine in every particular. Several of my 
 classmates, among them Grichine Yegov, testified likewise. 
 
 Afterwards one of the policemen gave his testimony. 
 He declared that he had seen me enter the janitor's room 
 about eight o'clock the evening before. He recognized 
 me perfectly. I was wearing the same clothing, and the 
 same white cap. 
 
 "What brought you here last evening?" asked our 
 superintendent. 
 
 I had no difficulty in answering this question. It was 
 only necessary for me to tell the truth. 
 
 " On returning home last evening I discovered that I 
 had forgotten my Greek dictionary," I replied. " I had 
 lent it to Strodtmann, as he told you a few minutes ago ; 
 and as I had not even looked at my translation for this 
 morning, I " 
 
 " What were you doing in study hour ? " 
 
 " With such a grave charge hanging over me, I can no 
 longer hesitate to tell you. I spent the entire study hour 
 in jotting down a melody which was running in my head, 
 and which prevented me from thinking of my translation;
 
 A CRUSHING BLOW. 23 
 
 so I resolved to prepare it in the evening at home, and it 
 was in the hope that Gavruchka would allow me to enter 
 the study hall, and get my dictionary, that I returned here. 
 I rapped at the small door on the right of the main 
 entrance, the one leading directly into the janitor's room. 
 Gavruchka opened the door himself. I entered, and made 
 known my request ; but he absolutely refused to open the 
 classroom, saying it was contrary to rules, so I left 
 immediately afterwards." 
 
 "How long did you remain in Gavruchka's room?" 
 inquired the president. 
 
 " One minute, perhaps ; two, at the very longest." 
 
 " Did you see the accused leave the building? " asked M. 
 Sarevine, turning to the policeman. 
 
 " No, or at least not alone. After I saw him enter the 
 janitor's room, I walked on to the end of this street, and 
 then down- the next street. This took me at least a half 
 hour, and I forgot all about the young man until, finding 
 myself about fifty yards from the college about quarter of 
 twelve o'clock, I saw the side door cautiously open, and 
 three young men come out. One was tall, just about 
 Terentieff 's height and size, I should say ; the others were 
 much smaller. They all wore long coats, and were muffled 
 up to their very eyes. The tallest of the three wore the 
 white cap of a senior student. Surprised to see them 
 coming out of the building at that hour of the night, I con- 
 cluded to follow them. They walked very rapidly, and 
 parted without exchanging a word, at the corner of the 
 next street. I continued to follow the tall one, and as he 
 passed a street-lamp, I could see that he had light hair. 
 In fact, I feel certain that it was the same young man I 
 had seen entering the building about eight o'clock.
 
 24 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 Nevertheless, I must admit that the witness Strodtmann 
 has hair of the same color, and that he looks almost as 
 much like the young man I followed last night as the 
 accused does." 
 
 I glanced at my fellow student as the officer uttered 
 these words ; and seeing that his face was absolutely livid 
 in hue, there flashed across my mind a hasty, but none the 
 less firm conviction that he was the real culprit, but that 
 he had resolved to cast the odium of the crime upon' me. 
 
 I glanced at the other persons present, but to my great 
 surprise, no one seemed to notice his agitation. 
 
 " I followed the young man as far as the Petrovska," con- 
 tinued the officer. " There, he either slipped around some 
 dark corner or hastily entered a house, for all at once I 
 lost sight of him. Having no special reason to suspect 
 him of any mischief, I abandoned the pursuit, and probably 
 should have forgotten all about it, if our sergeant had not 
 been hastily summoned here this morning. I accompanied 
 him. On our arrival, we found the president and the 
 superintendent in the janitor's room, bending over the 
 apparently lifeless body of Gavruchka. The unfortunate 
 man was in a kneeling posture, with his forehead resting 
 upon a table, his eyes closely bandaged, his hands securely 
 tied behind him, and a wet towel, twisted like a rope, on 
 the back of his neck. On the floor beside him lay the 
 paper with his death-warrant written upon it. I watched 
 the pupils as they entered the building this morning, and 
 without the slightest difficulty identified T6rentieff as the 
 young man who entered the janitor's room at eight o'clock 
 last evening; but I was not able to identify the persons 
 who were in company with hirn when he left the building 
 about midnight."
 
 A CRUSHING BLOW. 2$ 
 
 The officer's testimony seemed unanswerable. How 
 could I vindicate myself? How prgve that I was not one 
 of the party that left the institution at midnight? If 
 Gavruchka could only speak ! 
 
 " Do you persist in saying that you left the janitor's 
 room almost immediately?" inquired the president. 
 
 " Yes, sir, immediately ; but when I came out, I saw 
 nothing of the policeman, though I noticed him when I 
 entered the building. The street was deserted. I do not 
 remember to have met a single person." 
 
 "Where did you spend the evening?" 
 
 " I intended to return home and prepare my trans- 
 lation, but this being impossible without a dictionary, I 
 attended the concert at the Porte Dore'e, where I remained 
 until nearly midnight." 
 
 " What seat did you occupy? " 
 
 " I purchased a ticket for the third gallery at the office 
 as I went in." 
 
 "What pieces of music did you hear?" 
 
 " The instrumental selections consisted of the Beet- 
 hoven's Symphonic HeroYque, a selection from The Dam- 
 nation of Faust by Berlioz, Brahms's waltzes, and a melody 
 of Rubenstein." 
 
 " He could easily have learned all this merely by read- 
 ing the program," said M. Sarevine, in tones which, though 
 subdued, were nevertheless distinctly audible. " At what 
 hour did you reach home? " 
 
 "About quarter of twelve." 
 
 " Did you speak to any one." 
 
 " Only to the porter of the house on the Petrovska where 
 I live." 
 
 "Ah, so you live on the Petrovska?" exclaimed the
 
 26 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 superintendent, exchanging glances with the officer. " If 
 you can mention no one who saw and recognized you at 
 the concert, you will find yourself in a pretty bad plight." 
 
 " You must see for yourself, Dmitri, that all the evidence 
 is against you," said our worthy president, sadly. " Once 
 more let me entreat you to confess the truth, and name 
 your accomplices." 
 
 " I am innocent, sir; I have no accomplices. I swear it 
 upon my honor. I know nothing about the affair. It was 
 from you that I first heard of the sorry state in which 
 Gavruchka was found. When I saw him last, about eight 
 o'clock yesterday evening, he was in perfect health." 
 
 The president sighed heavily as he rose from his chair. 
 " Do your duty, gentlemen," he said, turning to the officers. 
 " The course the accused has chosen to adopt compels us 
 to abandon him. You may rest assured that we shall do 
 our best to discover his accomplices." 
 
 The sergeant approached me. 
 
 " In the name of the Czar I arrest you," he said gruffly. 
 
 Almost at the same instant handcuffs were deftly fastened 
 about my wrists, and I found myself descending the stairs 
 between two policemen. A group of curious and excited 
 classmates had assembled at the foot of the main stairway 
 to await the return of those who had been summoned as 
 witnesses, and a feeling of rage and humiliation seized me 
 at the thought that they would see me thus disgraced. 
 
 The majority of them were silent, though their coun- 
 tenances evinced deep compassion ; some few, however, 
 desirous probably of freeing themselves from any possible 
 suspicion of complicity, drew away with a horrified air at 
 my approach. 
 
 But as I was crossing the courtyard, my dear friend
 
 A CRUSHING BLOW. 2 7 
 
 Serge Kratkine ran up to me, and threw his arms around 
 my neck. 
 
 " Courage ! " he cried ; " you are innocent ; I know it, 
 and I will never desert you ! " 
 
 Several other classmates, among them Grichine Yegov, 
 came up and shook hands with me. 
 
 Ten minutes more, and I was in prison. I do not know 
 what my fate will be. I shall doubtless be examined again 
 in a few days, and then be formally tried in a public court. 
 
 Since I have been confined here I seem to have lived 
 my whole life over again. Recollections of the happy 
 days of my childhood haunt me continually, and it seems 
 to me that my past life furnishes my best means of defence. 
 Perhaps a truthful, unvarnished account of my past acts 
 and feelings will aid me in vindicating myself. 
 
 But it is growing late. Daylight has nearly faded from 
 my cell, and I am obliged to pause. I shall resume this 
 story of my life to-morrow, or rather begin to jot down my 
 recollections of my childhood. At all events, it will serve 
 to enliven the dreariness of my captivity, which threatens 
 to be a lengthy one. I have asked for and obtained a 
 sufficient quantity of pens, ink, and paper. 
 
 The shades of night are settling down upon me. I can 
 hear the rats running about in the straw. They must be 
 very numerous, judging from the inroads they have made 
 upon my loaf. A shudder creeps over me. Can it be 
 that I am afraid? 
 
 No ! Dmitri Fedorovitch Te"rentieff should know no 
 fear. He is the son of an honest man ; he is entirely in- 
 nocent of the crime of which he is accused ; and a tran- 
 quil conscience is the best of pillows, even upon the damp 
 straw of a rat-infested dungeon.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 RECOLLECTIONS OF MY CHILDHOOD. 
 
 MY very earliest recollections are of my father's cot- 
 tage, my birthplace. It stood alone at a turn in 
 the road, surrounded by a neglected garden and a few 
 dilapidated sheds and outbuildings, on the outskirts of an 
 obscure Russian village. 
 
 It was quite a distance from the other houses, which 
 were grouped irregularly around the manorial mansion. 
 This mansion, as well as all the country for miles around, 
 belonged to a wealthy and eccentric widow, the Princess 
 Lebanoff, who spent most of the year in St. Petersburg, 
 exiling herself in Sitovka only when the necessity of col- 
 lecting her rents in person compelled her to make such 
 a sacrifice. The windows of the chateau were always 
 closed except during her rare visits, and the large park 
 merely served as a playground for us village boys, in 
 spite of her steward's efforts to prevent this abuse. The 
 poor man was highly indignant, and his complaints, in 
 which he was heartily joined by the village schoolmaster, 
 a German, were loud and frequent. 
 
 Among the young rascals who nearly tormented the 
 life out of the old schoolmaster, as well as Mme. Leban- 
 off s steward, I must admit that I was first and foremost.
 
 CAYENNE PEPPER STUNG HIS NOSTRILS AND FILLED HIS 
 EYELIDS WITH BLINDING TEARS."
 
 RECOLLECTIONS OF MY CHILDHOOD. 31 
 
 If a leader was needed in a campaign against those in 
 authority, I was always ready. In fact, I displayed a 
 fertility of imagination and an aptitude for reversing the 
 usual order of things in the schoolroom, that amaze me, 
 even now. If Master Johann Lebewohl furtively inserted two 
 fingers in his snuff-box, and then raised them to his nose, 
 a pinch of cayenne pepper stung his nostrils, and filled 
 his eyes with blinding tears. The culprits usually took 
 advantage of the confusion that ensued to crawl stealthily 
 along under the benches to the door, and then make good 
 their escape. 
 
 When the victim recovered his breath and looked around 
 for the authors of his misfortunes, we were out of his reach, 
 and he was obliged to vent his wrath upon the innocent, 
 who, in spite of the frequent recurrence of this and similar 
 scenes, remained indifferent alike to his sufferings and 
 his reproaches. The Russian peasant is endowed from 
 infancy with an unconquerable sluggishness and stoicism ; 
 so although Master Lebewohl administered blows right 
 and left indiscriminately, in his fiery wrath and indigna- 
 tion, the boys accepted them with resignation, consoling 
 themselves with the proverb, " The heavens are high 
 above us, and the czar far away," merely another way of 
 saying that one should bear one's wrongs patiently, and 
 never rebel against the inevitable. 
 
 The very next day, perhaps, the master would endeavor 
 to inscribe on the blackboard the words or figures required 
 for the elucidation of some difficult problem in mathem- 
 atics, but not a mark could he make. The entire surface 
 of the blackboard was covered with a gluey substance that 
 checked the deftly handled crayon in the very beginning 
 of its arabesques ; or he found his pen firmly embedded in
 
 32 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 the inkstand ; or the stick with which he held us in sub- 
 jection was missing. As he was a teacher who could not 
 possibly teach without a stick under his arm, the rest of 
 the session was spent in vainly searching for it, and as no 
 power on earth could keep us prisoners after school hours, 
 we rushed out of the room like a drove of unruly colts 
 when the clock indicated the appointed time. 
 
 The stick was subsequently found hidden in the master's 
 bed, or half consumed in the stove, greatly to his disgust. 
 
 " It is another trick of that accursed Dmitri F6doro- 
 vitch," he would growl ; and it must be confessed that he 
 was generally right in considering me the cause of his 
 troubles. 
 
 In fact, I had a deep aversion to study, and to all author- 
 ity, except that exercised by my father. I was really 
 happy only when I was roaming about the fields alone, 
 and drinking in the cold, exhilarating air of the steppes. 
 I had no intimate friend among my classmates ; they 
 merely served as my tools in playing tricks upon the 
 master. My liberty once secured, I deserted them with- 
 out a word, and rushed off to spend the rest of the day 
 wandering through the fields and forest. With my hands 
 buried deep in my trousers' pockets, I strolled aimlessly 
 on, dreaming all sorts of wild, fantastic dreams, but never 
 once feeling the need of a companion or confidant. 
 Nothing more was seen of me until night, when I returned 
 as hungry as a wolf, and re-entered the house as tranquilly 
 as if my conduct had been irreproachable. 
 
 " So here you are at last, Dmitri ! " my father would ex- 
 claim, from the depths of his shabby old armchair. " You 
 have played truant all day. I can see it in your face. You 
 will always be an incorrigible dunce, I fear; but after all,
 
 RECOLLECTIONS OF MY CHILDHOOD. 33 
 
 my boy, the wisest thing you can do, perhaps, is to amass 
 a goodly store of health and strength." 
 
 And then my kind father would sink wearily back in his 
 armchair. He was an exceedingly weak and delicate man, 
 made of entirely different clay from the moujiks 1 of Sitovka, 
 and also from myself, a sturdy, uncouth lad who could 
 have lifted him off his feet without the slightest effort, it 
 seemed to me, and I entertained the deepest tenderness 
 and respect for him. 
 
 My father was a physician. At the age of twenty, and 
 before he gained his diploma unfortunately, he married 
 his cousin, Alexandra Pavlovna Latkine, the daughter of 
 an impoverished nobleman, who had died leaving her 
 homeless and penniless. The young student and his wife 
 lived for awhile in Moscow, in a state of extreme poverty ; 
 but shortly after my father won his degree, he inherited 
 from a distant relative the old cottage and bit of ground 
 near Sitovka ; and thankful for any place of shelter, how- 
 ever humble, they decided to take up their abode there. 
 It was there where I first opened my eyes to the light, 
 and where my mother died soon after my birth. 
 
 My father was endowed with rare intelligence and ability, 
 as his attainments and scientific researches testified ; and in 
 spite of the many difficulties that beset his pathway in life, 
 he succeeded in gaining an enviable reputation in the 
 scientific world ; but after my mother's death, his health, 
 which had been seriously undermined before, gave way 
 entirely. Depressed in spirits, discouraged, made prema- 
 turely old by care and anxiety, and feeling he had but a 
 short time to live, he resolved to spend the rest of his 
 days in seclusion at Sitovka. 
 
 1 Peasants. 
 3
 
 34 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 Every morning, he climbed into his rickety 
 drawn by a shaggy little pony, and started on his round 
 of visits. I can see him now, wrapped in his long rough 
 overcoat, the coarse texture of which only made the deli- 
 cacy of his features more noticeable. He had long, silky, 
 blond hair, and slender, beautifully formed hands, and he 
 was the personification of all that was noble and refined in 
 my eyes. I cared for nobody in the world but him ; and 
 though I was often rude and belligerent toward others, I 
 was always as submissive and affectionate as a daughter to 
 him. He, in turn, was ever kind and indulgent to me ; and 
 though he sometimes expostulated with me in regard to 
 my conduct, it seemed to me that he was never really 
 annoyed by my delinquencies. 
 
 That being the case, what did I care for the opinion of 
 others? His contempt would have been intolerable; but 
 what Master Lebewohl or any one else thought of me was 
 a matter of supreme indifference. I only knew that my 
 father detested cowardice and deceit ; so I never stooped 
 to either, but in every other respect, I did as I pleased. I 
 had noticed that he seemed to take pleasure in seeing me 
 strong and agile, so I devoted a great deal of my time and 
 attention to all sorts of physical exercises, such as running, 
 leaping, climbing, riding all the horses in the neighborhood 
 bare-backed, and trying to lift heavier weights from day to 
 day; so, although I was a perfect ignoramus at the age of 
 ten years I scarcely knew how to read and write I was 
 so well developed physically, that one would have sup- 
 posed me to be at least fourteen or fifteen years old. 
 
 I knew but one thing passably well. That was French, 
 which my father like all educated Russians had 
 
 1 A light, four-wheeled, open wagon.
 
 RECOLLECTIONS OF MY CHILDHOOD. 35 
 
 spoken from infancy, and which I had learned from him 
 without much effort on my part. 
 
 My father often amused himself by drawing comparisons 
 between himself and me. He seemed to take genuine 
 pleasure in comparing my big sturdy fists, stalwart shoul- 
 ders, and broad, full chest with his own slender, bowed 
 form. It was evidently a great comfort to him to see me 
 so healthy and vigorous. The fact is, we did not resemble 
 each other in the least. I flattered myself that I should be 
 tall like him, but there the resemblance would cease ; for 
 there was nothing in my ruddy face, tanned by constant ex- 
 posure to the wind and sun, and surrounded with thick 
 masses of bushy hair cut straight across the forehead, to 
 remind one of my father's pale, attenuated features. 
 
 In short, Fedor Illitch, my father, was not only a student, 
 but a student whose mind was much too active for his frail 
 body, while I well, there seemed to be no reason to 
 apprehend any danger of that kind, so far as I was 
 concerned. 
 
 We lived alone together, my father and I, in our tumble- 
 down cottage. We kept no servant, and I took care of 
 our little horse, Vodka, I had given him the name of the 
 liquor made from fermented grain, and so universally used 
 in Russia, his violent and irascible disposition making it 
 a very appropriate appellation, in my opinion. 
 
 Many a fine gallop we have had together, Vodka and 
 I, when my father had no use for him, for I had succeeded 
 in mastering him, at least partially. 
 
 Sometimes I amused myself by plaiting his mane and 
 tail with bits of bright-hued braid given me by some of the 
 farmers' daughters in the neighborhood. When I had thus 
 adorned him, I frequently erected a canopy of leafy
 
 36 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 boughs over the seat of the titegue, thus enabling my 
 father to make his round of visits sheltered from the cruel 
 sun, for the heat of a Russian summer is overpowering, 
 and the invalid suffered much more from it than he was 
 willing to admit. 
 
 I well remember the pang that pierced my heart, in 
 spite of my apparent high spirits, when I heard my father's 
 sepulchral cough, and saw his forehead beaded with sweat, 
 and the handkerchief he raised to his lips stained with 
 blood. I know now that he needed constant care, and a 
 life of ease and luxury. Doubtless a different life from 
 that we led would have greatly prolonged his days. In- 
 stead of that, we lived like the poorest peasant, subsisting 
 chiefly on rye bread and salt fish, and tasting meat only 
 once or twice a year. 
 
 It was only when I felt in the mood for cooking that I 
 prepared a bowl of warm racha, 1 against my father's 
 return. I know not what would have become of the dear 
 man under this regime, if he had not had his tea to console 
 him. He drank it continually, after the manner of the 
 Russian peasantry; that is to say, by taking a mouthful 
 from his glass and then nibbling the lump of sugar held in 
 the other hand. 
 
 I always picture him seated in his shabby armchair, his 
 face, which was still handsome, though wasted by illness, 
 bent over some ponderous tome. He glanced up occasion- 
 ally, but it was merely to fill his cup from the samovar 2 
 that sang so blithely by his side, or to address a remark 
 to me, 
 
 "It is cold to-night, Mitia, 3 very cold! Come nearer 
 the fire." 
 
 1 Porridge made of rye or buckwheat. 
 
 2 Tea-urn. 8 The diminutive of Dmitri.
 
 RECOLLECTIONS OF MY CHILDHOOD. 37 
 
 He shivered constantly, though he sat close by the 
 stove ; but I was never cold, and though I took care to 
 keep up a roaring fire, it was solely on his account. At 
 night, he wrapped himself in a sheepskin robe, and stretch- 
 ing himself out on an old leather-covered lounge near the 
 stove, he tried in vain to sleep. 
 
 As for me, I climbed on the huge stove, Russian fashion, 
 and curling myself up like a big dog, I slept the sound, 
 dreamless sleep of youth and perfect health. 
 
 When morning dawned, I jumped down from my perch, 
 filled up the still warm stove, which was soon roaring 
 gayly, made my father's tea; then arming myself with a 
 birch broom, I put the house in order. It was not always 
 very thoroughly done, I admit ; but untidiness and disorder 
 annoyed my father so much that I certainly felt a strong 
 desire to perform my task creditably. It was to please 
 him, too, that I bathed myself every morning from 
 head to foot in cold water, and brushed my clothes and 
 his. 
 
 Afterwards I ate a crust of bread with the best of appe- 
 tites, and after placing some mush intended for my father 
 on the fire, I considered myself free for the rest of the 
 day ; for though I knew perfectly well that it was my duty 
 to go straight to school, and there consume my daily 
 allowance of arithmetic and geography, I felt no scruples 
 about evading this duty almost constantly. I always had 
 some good excuse to offer. The weather was much too 
 fine to think of shutting oneself up in a schoolroom. Our 
 Russian summers are so short, that one ought to make 
 the most of them. September is a month of incomparable 
 beauty with us. How many Septembers should I see in 
 my life? Only a very limited number, and I would have
 
 38 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 all the other months of the year to study. Away then to 
 the fields ! In winter, it was too cold. I must needs in- 
 dulge in some violent exercise to keep warm. In the 
 spring, the weather was too warm; besides, I wanted to 
 study the revival of nature. In short, no season seemed to 
 be adapted to study, but all to idleness. 
 
 It is only right to say in my own defence that though I 
 was a poor student, I knew every inch of the surrounding 
 country, and was perfectly familiar with the habits of its 
 denizens. I had studied the customs and tricks of the birds 
 for hours together. I knew the tree in which they pre- 
 ferred to build their nest, its shape, and the number of 
 pink, gray, or blue eggs deposited there ; I knew the hour 
 at which the foxes start out on their foraging expeditions ; 
 I knew all the haunts of the ferret, the polecat, and even 
 the shy partridge ; I knew the hiding-place of the grouse, 
 and the pond the wild ducks most frequented. I certainly 
 would have been an invaluable guide to a hunter; but no 
 one hunted in our neighborhood. We had no lord of the 
 manor, and neither my father nor the schoolmaster cared 
 for sport. I had never even had a gun in my hand ; and 
 though I occasionally killed a bird for my father's dinner, 
 it was invariably by means of a sling shot. 
 
 As I have remarked before, I had no intimate friends 
 among the lads of the village, nor do I know why we were 
 so uncongenial. Elderly men generally regarded me as a 
 headstrong, idle fellow; the elderly women disliked me 
 because I often played jokes on them; their daughters, 
 because I made fun of them when they went to church 
 arrayed in all their finery, to show themselves to the 
 young men ; and the boys of my own age cared as little 
 for me as I did for them.
 
 RECOLLECTIONS OF MY CHILDHOOD. 39 
 
 There was but one occupation of which I was really 
 fond. Our pope?- Agathon Illarionovitch Poliakoff, had 
 organized a church choir. He himself like most 
 members of the Russian clergy, so far as my observation 
 goes possessed a remarkably powerful and flexible 
 bass voice, which he used very effectively in the church 
 service. I, whether I was alone or in company, always 
 had a song on my lips. If words were lacking, I improvised 
 them, putting my own ideas to any tune that chanced to 
 come into my head. I could whistle like a blackbird, and 
 there was no bird in the forest whose notes I could not 
 imitate well enough to deceive his fellows. The good 
 priest had noticed the compass and sonorousness of my 
 voice, and chosen me as a member of his choir. On the 
 eve of every church festival, I went to his house to 
 practise ; and I recollect what pleasure it afforded me to 
 hear my voice rise sweet and clear in the acauthiste, a 
 chant glorifying Christ and the Virgin, which Agathon 
 Illarionovitch made me sing on the feast of the Nativity. 
 I see again the dingy little church, whose only adornments 
 consisted of a few dilapidated icones ;* and Agathon, tall 
 and majestic, with his black beard reaching down to his 
 waist, made the very rafters ring with his powerful voice, 
 while mine, crystalline in its clearness, soared higher and 
 higher, and up to the very gates of heaven, it seemed to me. 
 I became as intoxicated with my trills and roulades as any 
 nightingale, and Agathon and I made up for the deficiencies 
 of all the rest, for I was the only lad in Sitovka who 
 possessed any voice or ear for music. All the others 
 
 1 The title given to a parish priest in the Greek Church. 
 
 2 Sacred images always placed in churches and in a corner of each room in 
 Russia. Persons salute them on entering and departing.
 
 40 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 sang terribly out of tune, and stoutly rebelled against any 
 musical instruction whatever. 
 
 So Father Agathon held me in high esteem, and often 
 dropped in of an evening to warm himself by our fire for 
 an hour or two, and to drink innumerable cups of tea with 
 my father. The pope's house was, if possible, even 
 more bare and desolate than ours. Akoulina Ivanova, 
 his wife, was cross and fault-finding. His sons Luke and 
 Porphyre were clumsy, ungainly fellows. Luke, the elder 
 of the two, had decided to become a priest, like his father : 
 but his lack of enthusiasm as well as of fitness for the 
 calling always amaze me when I think of it. 
 
 Porphyre, the younger son, a big, moon-faced, freckled 
 fellow about my own age, with tiny eyes that were almost 
 concealed from view by the plumpness of his cheeks, had 
 constituted himself my Pylades, and my alter ego ; though 
 why he should have done so, I really cannot tell. 
 
 Wherever I went, he was sure to follow, in spite of my 
 vehement protests ; and just when I was beginning to think 
 myself well rid of him, I generally discovered him follow- 
 ing in my track like a dog. Even when I explained to 
 him that I preferred to "be alone, and that his company 
 was irksome to me, it made no difference whatever. Por- 
 phyre had resolved that we should be friends, and in spite 
 of continual rebuffs, he remained my shadow. 
 
 I cannot imagine what satisfaction he found in it; in 
 fact, I often asked him that very question, for his persist- 
 ency incensed me so much that I did not pay much regard 
 to his feelings. I very rarely spoke to him, except to make 
 fun of him. The poor fellow was awkwardness personified ; 
 his every movement was attended with some catastrophe. 
 If he tried to skate, the ice gave way under him, and he
 
 RECOLLECTIONS OF MY CHILDHOOD. 41 
 
 fell into the water ; if he went fishing, he invariably pitched 
 headlong to the bottom of the river ; and if he approached 
 the gentlest horse, he was sure to be kicked. Even the 
 village geese pursued him with savage cries. He scalded 
 himself in drinking his tea ; he choked himself when he 
 ate, and tore his clothes twenty times a day, to his mother's 
 intense disgust; in short, he was the clumsiest and most 
 unfortunate being on earth. 
 
 He bore all his misfortunes with inexhaustible patience 
 however, merely remarking occasionally, with a wondering 
 air, 
 
 " Luck is always against me, you see." 
 
 Poor Agathon Illarionovitch ! I often wonder what has 
 become of him. Does he still wear the same long, soiled, 
 snuff-colored cassock dangling forlornly against his dilapi- 
 dated boots, which he shared with all the rest of the family, 
 after the old Russian fashion? 1 I believe that music was 
 the only thing that consoled him for the manifold trials of 
 his life. He taught me a host of melodies, which I sang 
 over and over again at the top of my voice, during my 
 wanderings. It is needless to say that I was superstitious, 
 as all good Russians are sure to be; and often when I 
 found myself alone in the gloomy forest, or on the steppes, 
 I sang, I must confess, not so much from a love of music 
 as to drive away the evil spirits that haunt the forest, the 
 mocking gnomes and the water nymphs, who have no power 
 over man unless they can succeed in enticing him into 
 the heart of their own kingdom. They endeavor to do 
 this by their singing, which is even sweeter than that of 
 
 1 One pair of boots generally serves for an entire family, father, mother, 
 and children. The women, who often wear a small fortune in jewelry, have 
 no decent shoes, and peasants usually wrap their feet up in rags.
 
 42 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 the skylark. But I to circumvent them sang so loud 
 that the wretches could not make themselves heard. I 
 even drove away by my singing the mischievous goblin 
 who plays so many tricks upon people, the uncanny sprite 
 who entices belated travellers from the most familiar paths 
 by the dancing, flickering light he waves before them, lur- 
 ing them straight on to the cold and dismal marsh where 
 his unhappy victims sink to rise no more. The sacred 
 melodies of our church service deprive these evil spirits 
 of their power, and make them flee in hot haste to their 
 secret haunts. 
 
 Truly one sees and hears marvellous things in the gloom 
 of our gigantic forests !
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE HAUNTED LAKE. 
 
 THE summer of that year had been unusually pleasant. 
 The month of September was fast drawing to a 
 close, and already a silvery sheen was visible mornings 
 on the tall trees whose russet foliage contrasted so charm- 
 ingly with the pale blue of the cloudless sky. A profound 
 stillness reigned everywhere, and the impending death of 
 nature imparted a melancholy charm to the beauty of the 
 landscape. 
 
 I left home very early one morning, for I had an unusually 
 exciting scheme in my head. A long way from Sitovka 
 much farther than I had ever gone indeed there was a 
 lake which I had long desired to visit. By walking 
 briskly, I might reach it by the middle of the day, and 
 explore it thoroughly during the afternoon ; but I could 
 hardly hope to get home again until late at night. It is 
 needless to say that this prospect did not trouble me in 
 the least; but I took good care to keep my project a secret 
 from my father, partly because I was naturally uncommu- 
 nicative, but chiefly because I felt almost sure that he 
 would not allow me to go. I started off with a big piece 
 of rye-bread and a magnificent fresh cucumber in my 
 pocket, a breakfast for a prince ! I should find plenty of 
 water by the wayside to quench my thirst
 
 44 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 As I was passing through the village I saw the master 
 standing by the schoolhouse door. 
 
 " Dmitri, Dmitri Fedorovitch, the bell has rung! " he 
 called out sharply. 
 
 I pretended not to hear him, however. 
 
 "Dmitri! don't you hear me? The bell has rung, I 
 tell you ! " 
 
 " I hear you, Master Lebewohl," I answered, pausing for 
 an instant, with my hands stuck in my trousers' pockets. 
 
 " Come here, then," cried the master, flourishing his 
 stick, as if he longed to apply it to my shoulders. 
 
 " I 'm not coming to school to-day," I responded coolly, 
 resuming my journey. 
 
 " What do you mean, you good-for-nothing? Don't 
 you intend to come when I call you ? " 
 
 But I only shrugged my shoulders, and walked swiftly 
 on. 
 
 " Those hateful Germans are all alike," I thought con- 
 temptuously. " They are always trying to shut us up and 
 make us as stupid as themselves. But thank Heaven, I 
 am a Russian ! " 
 
 And I continued my journey, enchanted with life and 
 with myself. 
 
 I soon reached the forest that bounded our village on 
 the east. Here the only sound that broke the stillness 
 was the ring of the woodman's axe attacking some large 
 tree ; but as I walked on, even this sound became fainter 
 and fainter, until it finally died away altogether in the dis- 
 tance. All around me giant birches and ash-trees reared 
 their tall forms heavenward, the dull tints of their bark 
 making the bright hues of their foliage appear even more 
 brilliant. Birds flitted blithely from branch to branch;
 
 THE HAUNTED LAKE. 45 
 
 ever and anon a bushy-tailed squirrel ran across the path 
 in front of me ; and beautiful flowers bloomed on every 
 side, while at the base of many large trees there was a 
 luxuriant growth of mushrooms of even more gorgeous 
 coloring than the flowers. To each denizen of this pri- 
 meval forest I addressed, in turn, a few friendly remarks. 
 
 " Yes, brother," I said to the squirrel, " lay up a good 
 store of nuts for winter use. You '11 need them for at 
 least nine months, you poor little creature! Take good 
 care, too, that the cunning old wolf does n't catch you ! 
 Sing on, pretty bird, sing on, while the sunshine lasts ! 
 Soon we shall find your little bodies cold and lifeless in 
 the snow, and you will not revive again in the spring 
 time, like your sisters, the flowers. It seems hard that you 
 must die, you, who are so gay and full of life; but it is 
 some comfort to think that you do not know what is in 
 store for you ! " 
 
 When I reached the farther edge of the forest, I saw by 
 the position of the sun in the heavens that it was past mid- 
 day ; so I seated myself on the edge of a little brook whose 
 waters were of crystalline clearness, and ate my lunch 
 with great enjoyment. 
 
 As I ate, I laughed at the recollection of the school- 
 master's rueful countenance. 
 
 " That poor idiot of a German does n't know how de- 
 lightful it is to roam about through the woods and fields," 
 I soliloquized. " He never leaves his stuffy old cottage 
 except to smoke his pipe on his doorstep, and even then 
 he always has a book in his hand. I can't imagine what 
 he finds so very interesting in his books. Perhaps they 
 tell about the poor wretches who never have any winter. 
 I wonder how those French people stand it. Father has
 
 46 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 told me about that Bonapartichko 1 who came here to 
 destroy our homes and take Moscow. But our good 
 soldiers sent him back to his own country on the double- 
 quick. I wish I had been living in those days ! How I 
 should have enjoyed knocking him on the head with a 
 stout cudgel ! But our brave prince Mika'flo Illarionovitch 
 Smolenski, with God's help, did it without me." 
 
 My ideas of history were certainly very vague. I was 
 about nine years old at the time, and my father often 
 laughed heartily at my ignorance then, and afterwards. 
 
 " He will have plenty of time to learn all that," he 
 remarked one day to the schoolmaster. " He is bright 
 enough, and so obstinate, that when he takes it into his 
 head to study, he will come out as well as any of them. 
 Isn't that so, Mitia?" 
 
 " Yes, Father." 
 
 " You are going to know a great deal some day, eh? " 
 
 " Yes, Father, as much as you know." 
 
 "But how are you going to learn it? By sleeping and 
 eating? " 
 
 " Oh, no, I shall take your books and read them." 
 
 "But what if you are not able to read them? They are 
 written in French and Greek and Latin." 
 
 " Then I shall send for a Frenchman and just say to 
 him, ' Teach me your lingo ; ' and if he refuses I '11 knock 
 him down." 
 
 And my father laughed as poor Lebewohl departed, 
 wringing his hands and exclaiming, 
 
 " What savages ! Good heavens ! what savages ! " 
 
 But one day I was listening to their conversation, 
 
 1 A contemptuous name for Bonaparte.
 
 THE HAUNTED LAKE. 47 
 
 though I did not let them know it I heard my father 
 explain his theory. 
 
 " Don't lose patience, Diedouchka" l he said pleasantly 
 to the schoolmaster. " You see what I am, a broken- 
 down consumptive, who goes around wheezing and cough- 
 ing worse than any old horse, though I am not much over 
 thirty years of age. / have never known what it is to be 
 really well, and all on account of the life I led as a child. 
 I was born delicate, and needed an outdoor life and plenty 
 of room and freedom. Instead of that, I grew up in a town, 
 and studied hard from my earliest childhood, only to dis- 
 cover toward the end of my days, that what I know is 
 nothing in comparison with what I do not know. I don't 
 want it to be so with this boy ; I want him to know, at least 
 during the early years of his life, what real enjoyment is, 
 
 mere animal enjoyment, you may call it if you like, 
 but the genuine happiness and enjoyment that health and 
 strength and freedom alone can give. I have succeeded, 
 
 the lad is hardy and honest and strong. He is no more 
 stupid than many of your so-called prodigies ; and if I am 
 spared a few years longer, I shall have no difficulty in 
 convincing him how disgraceful it would be for a grown 
 man to live in ignorance. I have no fears for his future, for 
 I firmly believe that the superb health with which I have 
 endowed him will be of invaluable assistance to him in his 
 future studies. Ah, if I but dared to hope that I might 
 live until he reached the age of twenty, I should have no 
 cause to blush for him, I am satisfied of that ! " 
 
 It seems to me I can hear him now. My beloved 
 father! no; you shall have no cause to blush for your 
 
 1 " Dear little uncle," an appellation familiarly applied to elderly persons 
 in Russia.
 
 48 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 son, I swear it ! And if you could read my heart, you 
 would not blush for me even now, in spite of the ignomini- 
 ous position in which I find myself. I never told you an 
 untruth. You, at least, would not doubt my word. You 
 would feel sure of my innocence. 
 
 But to resume my story: refreshed by my repast, I 
 rose to my feet, and casting a last lingering look at the 
 cool, shady forest, I directed my steps toward a high hill 
 some distance off, on the other side of which lay the lake 
 I had long desired to visit. 
 
 This sheet of water bore a very unenviable reputation, 
 however. It was rumored that a traveller had been mur- 
 dered upon its shores many years before ; that his body 
 had been cast into its dark waters ; and that his voice could 
 be distinctly heard on calm nights, and those whom he 
 called by name must expect to die during the year. For 
 this reason it was known as the Haunted Lake, and it 
 played quite an important part in the legends of our 
 village. 
 
 It was also considered a very dangerous spot on account 
 of the many quicksands which bordered it, and in which 
 one's feet sank deeper and deeper until the black, slimy 
 mud closed over one's head. It was useless to struggle, 
 or cling to the tall rushes that grew there in such profusion, 
 for having no roots, they yielded to your touch ; and the 
 treacherous slime rose higher and higher until one dis- 
 appeared from sight, and only the widening circles on the 
 silent surface of the gloomy lake revealed one 's horrible 
 fate. 
 
 I had long been tormented by a desire to visit the spot 
 I would be so prudent ! I had no fears that the quick- 
 sands would engulf me, with my trusty stick to test each
 
 THE HAUNTED LAKE. 49 
 
 foot of ground before I ventured upon it, and with my new 
 shoes made of bark, in which I felt as light as a fawn. 
 
 I walked steadily on toward the hill, through the luxu- 
 riant growth of flowers and reeds that covered the plain ; 
 but strange to say, as I advanced, the eminence seemed to 
 be farther and farther away, and by the time I reached the 
 summit the sun was nearing the horizon, and I was very 
 tired. 
 
 I paused for a moment to rest and gaze eagerly at the 
 untried but alluring region that stretched before me. 
 Yes, there lay the famous lake at the foot of a small 
 mountain, its waters sparkling brightly in the oblique rays 
 of the fast declining sun, and bordered on the side nearest 
 me by a dense belt of gloomy pines. There lay the 
 Haunted Lake ; but I must needs make haste if I wished to 
 reach it, explore its shores, and return to Sitovka before 
 my father became alarmed at my prolonged absence. 
 
 It took me only a few moments to descend the hill, so I 
 soon found myself among the pines, and I must confess 
 that my heart throbbed a little faster than usual as I made 
 my way through these grim and motionless sentinels ; but 
 nothing could have induced me to turn back now, or even 
 to admit to myself that the decidedly creepy feeling that 
 stole over me was fear. 
 
 But after all, the coward who realizes his terror, but con- 
 quers it and marches straight into danger, is more worthy 
 of admiration than the hero who courts it without a change 
 of color, merely because the sensation of fear is unknown 
 to him. Without troubling myself in the least about these 
 subtle distinctions however, I hastened on, and at last 
 reached the lake, whose deep and motionless waters were 
 now of almost inky blackness in the gathering twilight. 
 
 4
 
 5O SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 Several immense birds of prey were circling slowly through 
 the air above it, and the whole scene was inexpressibly 
 gloomy and awe-inspiring. 
 
 Suddenly, as I stood leaning against the trunk of a large 
 tree, surveying the dark waters with fascinated eyes, a 
 sharp, wild, despairing cry broke the profound stillness. 
 
 The blood curdled in my veins, and my knees shook 
 under me. Was it the murdered man calling me? I was 
 lost ! With a trembling hand I made the sign of the cross, 
 and turned to flee, when the shrill wail resounded again, 
 and this time I clearly distinguished the words, 
 
 " Mamouchka ! Mamouchka ! " l 
 
 I was ashamed of myself. All my fears vanished, as if 
 by magic, and I blushed to the very roots of my hair at 
 the thought of my cowardice. Without any further hesita- 
 tion I dashed off through the briers and bushes, in the 
 direction from which the sound had seemed to proceed, 
 and a deplorable sight soon greeted my eyes. 
 
 A woman clothed in rags was lying motionless on the 
 ground. Beside her knelt a little girl about four years 
 old, who was trying to arouse her by plaintive cries, and 
 to lift the head, which fell back inertly upon the ground 
 after each attempt. 
 
 I instinctively felt that the poor woman was dead ; but 
 how long had she lain there? Where could she and the 
 child have come from? The little girl was clad in a 
 shabby old pelisse, and her long dark hair streamed from 
 beneath a tattered red handkerchief down over her face 
 and eyes. She was so slender and so dark complexioned, 
 with her delicate features and immense eyes, that at first I 
 was inclined to take her for a witch's child. Certainly the 
 
 1 " Little mother."
 
 THE HAUNTED LAKE. 51 
 
 tiny creature possessed none of the characteristics of the 
 popular type of Russian beauty, namely, a plump pink 
 and white face, with coral lips, flaxen hair, and large, 
 broad feet to furnish a substantial support for the body. 
 The child had raised her head on hearing a crackling 
 sound in the bushes, and her lustrous, dark eyes were now 
 riveted on my face. For a minute or two I stood silent 
 and motionless, so intense was my astonishment. 
 
 " Come and wake Mamouchka," she called out to me 
 suddenly. " She is sleeping too long." 
 
 She spoke very indistinctly, and I scarcely know how 
 I managed to understand her; but I did, and in another 
 moment I was kneeling by the dead woman's side. I 
 took her cold and rigid hand gently in mine, then silently 
 replaced it on the ground. She was dead ; there could be 
 no doubt of it. 
 
 " Where did you come from?" I asked gently. 
 
 "From over there," replied the child, vaguely. 
 
 "And where are the others? Had you no compan- 
 ions? " 
 
 " No ; they went with the horses." 
 
 I had already noticed that the grass around us was much 
 trampled, and that the prints of horses' hoofs were plainly 
 visible on the turf. 
 
 " Did your father go, too?" I asked. But the child did 
 not seem to understand me. 
 
 " Wake her up ! " she sobbed. " Wake her up, quick ! 
 I don't want to stay here any longer." 
 
 "What is your name? Where would you like me to 
 take you? "I continued. 
 
 But she only sobbed wildly, without replying. I was 
 still kneeling beside her, uncertain what to say or do,
 
 52 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 when she hastily sprang to her feet, and throwing her 
 arms around my neck, cried imploringly, 
 
 " Oh, take me away ! take me away from here ! Let us 
 go now." 
 
 The caress brought the tears to my eyes; and without 
 stopping to reflect any longer, I gave her a warm embrace, 
 and said resolutely, 
 
 " Come, then, you shall be my little sister, and Fedor 
 Illitch shall be your father." 
 
 "And Mamouchka?" she asked, as I arose and took 
 her by the hand. 
 
 " We will come back for her. She is sleeping now." 
 
 "Wake her up, wake her up, you nice boy," she 
 pleaded. 
 
 " Yes, yes ; but come with me now, and I promise you 
 we will return for her by and by." 
 
 Taking off my coat, I laid it reverently over the face of 
 the dead, fastening it down securely at the edges with some 
 large stones ; then with feverish haste I piled some boughs 
 over her to form a sort of shelter ; and sure now that the 
 remains would be safe until we could give them Christian 
 burial, I again took the child by the hand, saying firmly, 
 
 " You must come with me now. It is getting late. We 
 will return for your mother presently." 
 
 The poor little thing followed me submissively, though 
 not without casting many a tearful glance behind her. 
 Poor child, my heart bled for her! I loved my own 
 father so much that I could truly sympathize with the 
 desolate little creature whose cold and trembling hand lay 
 so confidingly in mine. Soon she paused, too exhausted 
 with hunger and fatigue to take another step. Without 
 an instant's hesitation, I took her up in my arms; she
 
 MY FATHER APPEARED UPON THE THRESHOLD, LAMP IN 
 HAND."
 
 THE HAUNTED LAKE. 55 
 
 slipped hers around my neck, and in another minute she 
 was sound asleep. 
 
 Oh, how interminable the road seemed to me ! One by 
 one the stars appeared in the firmament above me, as I 
 staggered on with my heavy burden. How little progress 
 I seemed to make ! Again and again I paused, completely 
 out of breath, and covered with perspiration ; but the child 
 slept quietly on. 
 
 It was long after midnight when I emerged from the 
 forest, and saw the broad highway before me, and a light 
 shining in the window of the little cottage where my father 
 was doubtless anxiously awaiting my return. 
 
 Summoning up all my strength, I hastened through the 
 village almost on a run, and at last reached our house. 
 Before I had time to rap, the door was hastily thrown 
 open, and my father appeared upon the threshold, lamp 
 in hand. 
 
 " Is it you, Dmitri? " he asked anxiously. 
 
 " Yes, Father." 
 
 " Heaven be praised ! Come in ; you have frightened 
 me half to death, child. Where have you been ? " 
 
 I had dropped down exhausted upon a bench that stood 
 against the wall near the door, and it was not until my 
 father had placed the lamp on the table and again turned 
 to me, that he noticed the child in my arms. 
 
 "What have you there?" he cried in great astonishment. 
 
 "I found her in the woods; her mother is dead, so I 
 brought her home with me," I faltered, for all my strength 
 seemed to have suddenly deserted me. 
 
 My father perceived this fact, and without asking me 
 any further questions, he hastily poured out a large 
 tumbler of tea, and added a few drops of rum to it.
 
 56 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 " Drink this first, and tell me all about it afterwards," 
 he said kindly. 
 
 I obeyed ; and after draining the glass at a single draught 
 I was myself again. 
 
 Meanwhile, my father had taken the little girl from me, 
 and without waking her, had deposited her gently in a big 
 armchair near the stove. I followed him ; and as I gave 
 him a brief account of my adventure, he listened gravely, 
 gazing thoughtfully all the while at the face and garments 
 of the little waif. Her clothing was entirely different in 
 style and cut from any we had ever seen, and the child 
 herself was of an essentially foreign type. 
 
 " It is more than likely that the mother, being too weak 
 to go any farther, was deserted by one of those bands of 
 roving Cossacks that frequent the banks of the Don," 
 remarked my father, when I had finished my story. " It 
 is fortunate indeed, Mitia, that you chanced to go to the 
 lake to-day; as but for you the child would doubtless 
 have shared the fate of her unfortunate mother." 
 
 "You will keep her, Father, will you not?" I pleaded. 
 
 He bowed his head gravely, in token of assent. 
 
 " I shall have two children now, instead of one," he 
 remarked. "Did she tell you her name?" 
 
 " She did n't even seem to understand what I meant when 
 I asked her." 
 
 " Then we will call her Sacha, 1 after your dear mother," 
 said my father, in a voice that trembled with emotion. 
 
 And from that day I had a sister. 
 
 1 A contraction of Alexandra.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 SACHA. 
 
 EARLY the next morning, my father started off in his 
 tfltgue in company with the pope and the village 
 grave-digger. I begged hard to accompany them ; but he 
 convinced me that it would be better for me to remain at 
 home, in order that I might be at hand to quiet the little 
 girl's fears when she woke and found herself in a strange 
 place without her mother. 
 
 Good Agathon Illarionovitch objected to going at first, 
 on the plea that nobody knew what kind of people these 
 strangers were. Very possibly, judging from the child's 
 appearance, they might be gypsies or Tartars or some 
 other kind of heathen. 
 
 He could not reconcile it with his own conscience to 
 bury the poor woman among his parishioners ; and though 
 he finally consented to honor her interment with a prayer, 
 it was only on condition that she should be buried alone on 
 the border of the Haunted Lake, and that my father 
 would allow him to baptize the little girl on his return. 
 
 This was done, and the little waif received the names of 
 Alexandra F^derovna. 
 
 In fact, it was the touch of the baptismal water upon 
 her forehead that awakened her from her long sleep. She 
 started violently and cast a terrified glance around her. 
 My father was holding her in his arms ; Agathon, stand-
 
 58 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 ing before the sacred images, with eyes devoutly raised to 
 heaven, had just placed his hands upon her head, and I was 
 kneeling beside him holding the cup of holy water. 
 
 Though evidently much frightened, the child did not 
 move, but allowed the rite to be completed in silence. 
 When it was over, my father set her gently on the floor, 
 and after kissing her on the forehead, left the house with 
 the pope. 
 
 The little girl rushed to me. 
 
 "Where is my mamma?" she whispered, seizing my 
 hand. " Come and find her." 
 
 " Your mamma is not here, my little dear. She is in 
 heaven." 
 
 "Where? I want to see her, quick ! " 
 
 " You can't see her now, my poor little dove. You are 
 going to live with us now, and I will be your brother." 
 
 The child pushed me violently away and burst into a fit 
 of sobbing. Then rushing wildly to the door, she tried to 
 open it with her little hands, and failing in this, threw her- 
 self upon the floor, sobbing even more violently than 
 before. I was miserable. I did not know how to console 
 her in her terrible affliction; but seating myself on the 
 floor beside her, I put my arm tenderly around her, and 
 whispered, 
 
 " Don't drive me away, little sister. I will love you so 
 much that you won't be unhappy, especially when you 
 find out how kind my father is. We won't forget your 
 mamma ; we '11 talk of her every day, and " 
 
 " Oh, Mamma, Mamma ! " repeated the child, with a 
 heart-rending sob ; but she no longer repulsed me, and soon 
 began to weep more quietly, with her head resting upon 
 my shoulder.
 
 SACHA. 59 
 
 Her tears ceasing at last, I laid her on the lounge and 
 ran to the baker's, where I bought a warm roll, which I 
 placed before her, together with a large bowl of milk. 
 Accustomed to eat with the appetite of a young wolf my- 
 self, I was greatly surprised and disconcerted to see how 
 little my protg$e seemed to appreciate the fine breakfast 
 I had prepared for her. She ate but little more than a 
 bird, and scarcely touched her lips to the bowl of creamy 
 milk, though she could have partaken of no other nourish- 
 ment for a long time. 
 
 After she finished eating, I thought I would try to comb 
 the long hair which hung in such disorder about her pretty 
 face ; but this attempt proved a failure. She began to cry, 
 and I was standing before her, comb in hand, greatly per- 
 plexed, when my father entered. 
 
 He laughed heartily on seeing us. 
 
 " You have n't had experience enough for that, I fear, 
 my boy," he said kindly, " so I 've brought Tatiana to look 
 after my little daughter. Come in, Tatiana, don't be afraid." 
 
 A buxom, rosy-cheeked girl, the niece of the village 
 elder, was standing on the threshold, giggling and hiding 
 her face in her sleeve. 
 
 " Dress her from head to foot as I asked you, Tatiana," 
 continued my father ; " and I '11 attend you all for nothing 
 as long as you live." 
 
 " You would do that anyway, Fedor Illitch," replied the 
 girl, laughing. 
 
 And it was really so. My father seldom received a 
 grivenik? much less a rouble? from his patients. They paid 
 
 1 A Russian coin equivalent to about twelve and one-half cents in United 
 States currency. 
 
 2 A Russian coin equivalent to about seventy-five cents in United States 
 currency.
 
 60 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 him in affection, in respect, in household provisions, and in 
 hay ; but he never complained, and attended the poorest 
 peasant in Sitovka as faithfully as he would a baroness. 
 
 Little Sacha tried to hide herself behind me, but Tatiana 
 picked her up and carried her home. Half an hour after- 
 wards she brought her back to us, transformed. The child's 
 luxuriant brown hair had been neatly combed and ar- 
 ranged in two heavy braids, and she wore a pretty scarlet 
 skirt and a white chemisette, tucked and embroidered at 
 the throat and wrists. Tatiana had not even neglected to 
 put around her neck the necklace of amber beads worn by 
 all Russian girls. 
 
 I clapped my hands with delight ; my father, too, seemed 
 well pleased. 
 
 " See what I found around the little girl's neck, Fedor 
 Illitch," said Tatiana, holding up a round medal, or amulet, 
 made of platinum. Upon it was inscribed in gold the 
 letters A. I. B. 
 
 " Perhaps this will assist us in discovering the child's 
 relatives some day," remarked my father, after examining 
 it long and carefully. " We must take good care of it. It 
 is the only clew we have. I thank you for the trouble you 
 have taken, Tatiana. You 're a good girl. Now will you 
 oblige me by continuing to take charge of her until she is 
 old enough to take care of herself ? All the village children 
 are fond of you, and it is because you love them and are 
 kind to them ; so I feel sure that I shall not annoy you by 
 asking this favor." 
 
 " I '11 take charge of her very willingly, Fedor Illitch. 
 I was almost afraid of her at first, she looked so wild 
 and implike ; but she looks very different now she 's 
 been washed and dressed, and I think I shall soon get
 
 SACHA. 6 1 
 
 really fond of her. I believe you will love me, too, eh, 
 Sacha?" 
 
 But Sacha's heart was not so easily won. As soon as 
 she returned, she again hid herself behind me, keep- 
 ing a tight hold on my hand. Tatiana smiled good 
 naturedly, however, and departed, promising to return on 
 the morrow. 
 
 From that day, Sacha and I were inseparable. She re- 
 mained rather shy and reserved toward every one except 
 my father; but she accepted me without reserve as a 
 brother, and in six months I found it hard to believe that I 
 was not so in reality. She was very bright and intelligent. 
 It was never necessary to repeat anything to her twice ; 
 she seemed to comprehend an explanation instantly. In a 
 few weeks, she spoke Russian with ease, and French 
 seemed equally easy to her ; but all her childish memories 
 seemed to be enshrouded in mystery and gloom. She 
 had an indistinct recollection of a long and fatiguing jour- 
 ney, wild horses, and savage looking men; but these 
 memories seemed to excite and terrify her so much that 
 my father forbade me to make the slightest allusion to 
 them, and gradually all remembrance of this mysterious 
 past faded from her mind. 
 
 My little sister soon learned to dress herself without 
 assistance, and after watching my awkward attempts at 
 housework for some time, she relieved me of my duties and 
 of my broom, to my infinite delight. 
 
 Sacha seemed even less inclined to associate with the 
 village children than I was. The strange way in which I 
 happened to find her created quite a sensation at first ; but 
 the Russian peasant is a stolid creature who takes very 
 little interest in his neighbors' affairs, and the affair was
 
 62 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 soon forgotten. True, a schoolboy called her " that 
 gypsy brat " one day ; but I turned on him then and there, 
 and gave him such a thrashing that he never repeated the 
 offence, at least in my hearing. 
 
 I must not forget that Porphyre also espoused Sacha's 
 cause very warmly, and came out of the fight with a fine 
 black eye. His valor softened my heart a little, and con- 
 vinced me that there might be some good in the fellow 
 after all. Sacha, however, was not in the least touched by 
 his devotion, but made open fun of his awkwardness and 
 stupidity upon all occasions, and I must admit that I was 
 only too willing to second her. 
 
 Not that Sacha and I were always on the best of terms, 
 however. Far from it. We had quarrels in plenty. At 
 first her sorrow and loneliness made me her willing slave, 
 and I submitted to her slightest caprice without a murmur ; 
 but as I grew older, I became a terrible tease. Sacha was 
 jealous and very sensitive, and it did not take me long to 
 discover the fact. The merest trifle an affectionate word 
 from my father to me, or from me to my father, or a caress 
 bestowed upon Vodka often sufficed to excite her wrath 
 and jealousy. After an incident of this kind, she usually 
 fled to the woods, and sometimes refused to speak to 
 me for days afterwards. Her subsequent penitence was 
 equally profound. I possessed a much more equable 
 temperament, and thought little Sacha's paroxysms of grief 
 and anger the strangest and most amusing thing in the 
 world; so, though I really loved her devotedly, I often 
 made her very unhappy. 
 
 My father never paid any attention to our quarrels, 
 while Sacha was generous to a fault, and nothing could 
 have induced her to complain of me. I well remember the
 
 SACHA. 63 
 
 jealousy my dog, Snap, aroused in the heart of my little 
 sister. He was given to me two or three years after 
 Sacha's arrival in our midst by a nobleman who happened 
 to be in our village. This baron was an impecunious 
 cousin of Mme. Lebanon , who had taken him into her 
 household, a very common thing in Russia. His dog, 
 while running across a field near our house, fell into a trap 
 that had been set for a wolf, and his leg was badly injured. 
 He suffered terribly, so terribly indeed, that his owner was 
 on the point of shooting him to put him out of his misery. 
 
 Hearing the noise, Sacha and I hastened to the spot. 
 
 The poor dog was lying on the ground, moaning and 
 licking his injured paw, and gazing up beseechingly at his 
 master, a fine looking, elderly gentleman, who seemed 
 deeply distressed to see his faithful hound in such a sorry 
 condition. 
 
 "What is to be done, Stepan?" he asked, turning to 
 the servant in attendance. 
 
 " It 's only a dog," the man replied, shrugging his 
 shoulders. 
 
 " Yes, but a very valuable dog, you idiot ! One of the 
 finest dogs in the country, a dog that the princess im- 
 ported from France. How very annoying ! I would 
 much rather it was you, Stepan. But don't stand there 
 like a gaping idiot. What is to be done? Can't you 
 suggest something?" 
 
 "It is for you to say, of course, Arcadion Semonovitch." 
 
 " Would you kill him to put him out of his misery, if 
 you were in my place?" 
 
 " There would be one dog less in the world, that is all." 
 
 " Poor Snap," murmured the gentleman, patting the 
 dog on the head. " I cannot leave you here, and I can't
 
 64 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 take you with me, as we start for Paris to-morrow; so I 
 shall have to kill you. It seems to me that I shall be com- 
 mitting a murder, though," he added, averting his face, 
 which was pale with emotion. 
 
 The dog, who had been watching his master's every 
 movement with evident anxiety, pricked up his ears as 
 the gentleman slowly raised his gun. 
 
 I ran to him. 
 
 " Don't kill the dog, Baron ! " I cried. " Give him to 
 me instead." 
 
 " What will you do with him? Don't you see that he is 
 badly hurt? I fear his back is broken." 
 
 " That makes no difference. Don't kill him. I '11 take 
 good care of him, and if he can be cured, I '11 cure 
 him." 
 
 " ~Butyou can't cure him." 
 
 " Let me try, please let me try ! It will spare you the 
 pain of killing him." 
 
 "But will you know what to do for him if I leave 
 him?" 
 
 " My father is a doctor, and he will tell me what to do 
 to cure the dog." 
 
 " Very well, then, I '11 give him to you. Poor Snap ! to 
 think that you will end your days in a Sitovka hovel ! It 
 is hard. But you 're not a bad-looking boy, after all," he 
 added, turning to me. " Take good care of him. Here 's 
 a rouble for you." 
 
 He threw a piece of money at me as he spoke. 
 
 Crimson with anger, I picked it up and tried to return it 
 to him. 
 
 " I did not ask for pay, Arcadion Semonovitch," I said 
 haughtily.
 
 SACHA. 65 
 
 " Indeed ! what fine gentleman is this? He has quite a 
 lordly air ! " he exclaimed in French. " Keep the money, 
 I don't want it," he added in Russian. 
 
 " Nor do I ! " I retorted, also in French, which seemed 
 to surprise him very much. " Here, take it ! " I cried, 
 turning angrily to Stepan, and throwing it straight in 
 his face. 
 
 Stepan shrugged his shoulders and pocketed the coin. 
 The baron picked up his gun, bestowed a last caress on 
 his dog, and walked away without honoring me with an- 
 other glance. The faithful animal attempted to get up 
 and follow his master, but sank down again with a long, 
 lugubrious howl. 
 
 Sacha, who had not spoken up to that time, clutched 
 me wildly by the arm, and exclaimed, 
 
 " I 'm afraid, Mitia ! Let us go, I 'm afraid of him ! " 
 
 " Nonsense ! " I retorted angrily. " The dog only shows 
 his sense by crying for his master. There, there," I added, 
 stroking his handsome head ; " don't grieve, my good fel- 
 low ; I '11 take care of you and cure you, and you '11 soon 
 get fond of me. Sacha, too, will love you." 
 
 " No, I love you ; I don't love the dog." 
 
 " But I love you and the dog, too. See how handsome 
 he is ! What a broad chest he has, and what powerful 
 paws, and such beautiful eyes ! What a grand fellow you 
 are! Let me look at your paw. Ah, I Ve hurt you, but 
 it 's all for your good, as you will see by and by. Sacha, 
 give me your handkerchief." 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Selfish thing," I said coldly, pushing away the hand 
 she tried to slip into mine; and in a few minutes I had 
 improvised a splint out of some moss, two pieces of 
 
 S
 
 66 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 board, and a bandage, made by tearing up one of my shirt 
 sleeves. 
 
 The poor animal did not move ; but when I had finished, 
 he began to lick my hands, and the expression of his eyes 
 was almost human. 
 
 " We must carry him home, now. Will you help me, 
 Sacha?" 
 
 But as she pouted and still refused to answer, I lifted 
 the dog and carried him to our little stable without any 
 assistance from her. Sacha followed me in silence, with 
 compressed lips and knitted brows. She was evidently 
 jealous of the dog. 
 
 I laid the animal on a pile of straw, and noticing that 
 his nose was hot and dry, a sure sign of fever, I placed 
 before him a big earthen pan of water, which he emptied 
 almost at a single draught. As soon as my father re- 
 turned, I showed him my patient. He complimented me 
 on the skilful manner in which I had dressed the injured 
 leg, and said there was nothing for him to do but administer 
 some cooling medicine to the poor beast. 
 
 I held his mouth open while my father poured down 
 the mixture ; and in his frantic efforts to escape, poor Snap 
 splashed nearly half of the medicine on my nose and lips. 
 Ugh, how bitter it was ! But this ordeal over, the dog 
 stretched himself out on the straw with a long sigh of relief, 
 laid his nose between his paws, and fell into a deep sleep. 
 
 " He '11 get over it," remarked my father, rising from 
 his knees ; " and you '11 have a nice playfellow, Mitia." 
 
 " Yes ; but Sacha does n't like him." 
 
 " Oh, that will be all right by and by. You have n't had 
 any difficulty with her about the dog, I hope," continued 
 my father. " Sacha is n't a big strong boy like you. A
 
 " I PLACED BEFORE HIM A BIG EARTHEN PAN OF WATER."
 
 SACHA. 69 
 
 person might tease you and hustle you about, as much as 
 he pleased, and you would be all the better for it. You 
 must spare the weak, Mitia; never forget that." 
 
 I hung my head, and started off in search of Sacha. I 
 found her sitting in the corner by the stove, gloomy and 
 silent. 
 
 " Why are you angry with me? " I asked. 
 
 She made no reply. 
 
 " You certainly would not have had me leave that poor 
 dog to die," I continued impatiently. 
 
 " You care more for him than you do for me." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 " Go back to your dog, go ! " she cried passionately. 
 " Why did you bring me here if you must go and take in 
 the first dog you find on the roadside in the same way. 
 Go away, go away, I tell you ! You 're not my brother 
 any longer." 
 
 "Why, Sacha!" 
 
 She burst into a violent fit of sobbing. I tried to con- 
 sole her, and to make her understand that I could love her 
 and love the dog, too ; but in vain. 
 
 All this grieved me the more because I had already 
 taken a great liking to poor Snap ; and feeling myself re- 
 sponsible for his recovery, I devoted most of my time to 
 him. If Sacha had not taken such a dislike to him, we 
 might have teased and spoiled him together, and as he was 
 as affectionate as he was handsome, we should have been a 
 jolly trio of friends ; but she pretended to consider him 
 a very dangerous animal, and to be very much afraid that 
 he would bite her. I say pretended, for it seemed to me 
 impossible that she should really be afraid of such a gentle 
 and affectionate dog.
 
 7O SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 He was soon completely cured, and able to gambol 
 about as before, for he was a young dog. I was very 
 proud of his beauty and courage, and we became more 
 and more fond of each other every day. 
 
 Sacha and I were on much less friendly terms, however. 
 We quarrelled about the most trivial matters ; and I was 
 becoming more and more inclined to tease, and she was 
 becoming more and more sensitive, when I played a joke 
 on her which came so near being fatal in its consequences 
 that it proved a bitter lesson to me, and so effectually 
 cured me of this foolish and disagreeable habit that my 
 dear little sister never had any further cause to complain 
 of her adopted brother.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 A THRILLING ADVENTURE WITH A WOLF. 
 
 ONE day my father brought Sacha a package, which he 
 advised her to open very carefully. He had just 
 
 returned from the town of V , about sixty miles away, 
 
 whither he had been summoned for consultation. 
 
 Greatly excited, my little sister opened the box and 
 took from it a doll, the like of which she had never seen 
 before. It must have come from Paris, judging from its 
 costume ; a gown of blue velvet, en traine, a plumed hat, 
 a dainty fan suspended from the waist, and a profusion of 
 golden hair dressed in the most elaborate manner. 
 
 Sacha gazed at it for a moment in silent ecstasy ; then she 
 uttered a cry of delight, and began to lavish kisses and all 
 sorts of endearing names upon her treasure. Next came 
 my father's turn and mine ; but Snap having put out his 
 nose to smell the new comer, Sacha pressed her child to 
 her heart with an essentially maternal gesture. I had 
 never seen her so delighted ; she talked and talked, her 
 eyes sparkled ; she was really beside herself with joy. 
 
 How enraptured she was when she found that the doll's 
 garments could be taken off and put on again, a great 
 advantage, it seems, and one that is quite rare with these 
 young ladies. I speak only with reference to the dolls we 
 had seen in Sitovka, and those sold at our annual fair,
 
 72 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 unwieldy creatures whose gaudy clothing was either nailed 
 or glued upon their bodies ; while this elegant damsel wore 
 not only a dress and a dainty white skirt and fine under- 
 clothing, but silk stockings, and lovely little shoes that 
 filled Sacha's heart with rapturous delight. The doll was 
 dressed and undressed twenty times that evening ; Sacha 
 had her sit beside her at table, and she went to bed that 
 night with her treasure pressed to her heart. 
 
 From that day, Mademoiselle, as we called her, was 
 seldom out of her mother's arms. She even shared the 
 lessons which my father gave Sacha, and by which she ap- 
 peared to profit in a truly marvellous manner, at least so it 
 seemed to me. That she studied cheerfully herself seemed 
 strange enough ; but when I saw her making tiny blank- 
 books for her doll, in which she recopied all her exercises 
 in the finest possible hand, I never ceased to marvel. To 
 make all this seem more real, Sacha always wrote her 
 exercises and those of Mademoiselle a little differently; 
 and my father, entering into the spirit of the little comedy, 
 examined both with equal care, and it was sometimes 
 Sacha and sometimes Mademoiselle who stood at the head 
 of the class. 
 
 In spite of my twelve years and my pretensions to being 
 a big boy, I seldom disdained to join in the play of Sacha 
 and Mademoiselle, though the elaborate costume of the 
 latter furnished me with food for continual ridicule and 
 more or less ill-tempered jibes ; but when they gave a ball, 
 I never failed to appear at the appointed hour to take part 
 in the festivities. True, I confined myself principally to 
 devouring the refreshments, but Sacha and Mademoiselle 
 were generally too much engrossed in dancing to pay any 
 attention to that. After the stock of eatables was ex-
 
 A THRILLING ADVENTURE WITH A WOLF. 73 
 
 hausted, I would take Snap by his forelegs and compel 
 him to dance with me ; and when we became weary of that 
 sport, I would take down my balalaika? and we would sing 
 our sweet but melancholy Russian folk-songs. Sacha's 
 voice was as clear as that of a skylark, and my father 
 seemed to listen with pleasure, and never complained of the 
 noise we made on these festive occasions. Snap, lying at 
 his feet, and still panting from his enforced exercise, sur- 
 veyed us all with a kindly smile, for no Christian ever 
 had a more frank and benignant smile; and I do not 
 believe that the most magnificent ball in St. Petersburg 
 ever afforded its guests as much pleasure as ours. 
 
 How the diabolical idea of marring this happiness 
 originated, I know not ; but it had lasted several months, 
 and was doubtless beginning to pall upon me. 
 
 At all events, the following is a truthful account of the 
 affair. 
 
 Tatiana Ipronovna came for Sacha in hot haste one day. 
 She was to be married soon, and as Sacha was to serve as 
 her attendant, it was necessary that some dress or piece of 
 finery should be tried on ; and Sacha departed so hurriedly 
 that she forgot Mademoiselle, and left her on the table, 
 where she was presumably engaged in doing her exercises. 
 
 My father was away, and I was consequently left alone 
 with the doll. 
 
 I solemnly declare that at first I merely intended to 
 look at her. I picked her up, made a few faces at her, 
 then turned her round and round in my hands, vaguely 
 wondering how Sacha could take such intense delight in 
 fondling this bit of kid and china. Suddenly an idea, in- 
 spired, I am sure, by the Evil One himself, flitted through 
 
 1 A musical instrument resembling a guitar, but with only three strings.
 
 74 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 my brain. What would Sacha say if, on her return, she 
 saw in place of her gorgeously arrayed Mademoiselle a 
 youroudivyi 1 as fantastically dressed and hideous in ap- 
 pearance as one we had seen pass through our village a 
 short time before? 
 
 It would certainly seem very funny to her. Animated 
 by this brilliant idea, and without giving a thought to the 
 bitter grief I was about to inflict upon my poor little 
 sister, I began my work of destruction. 
 
 I took the scissors : Snip ! snap ! and the doll was shorn 
 of her golden tresses. This done, I dexterously divested 
 her of her fine apparel, and soon had poor Mademoiselle 
 attired in a ragged smock made from the torn sleeve of an 
 old overcoat. Out of her beautiful velvet gown I made a 
 wallet, or bag, which I took the trouble to improve by 
 rubbing on the stove, and which I afterwards suspended 
 from the doll's shoulder by a string. I even slipped in a 
 piece of rye bread to make the resemblance complete. 
 Then, seizing the gluepot, and taking a handful of the 
 shorn tresses which were lying on the table, I glued them 
 on the doll's rosy cheeks for a beard, after which I in- 
 geniously cut the tips of the pretty shoes so the toes would 
 protrude ; and then placing my chef d'ceuvre in a conspi- 
 cuous position, I awaited the result of my labors. 
 
 If I live a hundred years, I shall never forget Sacha's 
 look when she re-entered the room, and dancing up to the 
 table, beheld her doll. She turned pale, her lips quivered, 
 her eyes seemed to start from their sockets ; she recoiled in 
 horror, and in that instant, as if a veil had been suddenly 
 torn from my eyes, I realized the atrociousness of my 
 crime ! I saw how cruel I had been, and how deeply I 
 
 1 A mountebank, or peddler
 
 A THRILLING ADVENTURE WITH A WOLF. 75 
 
 had injured the child whom I nevertheless sincerely loved ! 
 It was the first time I had ever felt the sting of remorse, 
 and though the cause was comparatively frivolous, my 
 compunctions of conscience were none the less bitter. 
 My poor little Sacha ! What would I not have given if 
 that fatal idea had never occurred to me! 
 
 Neither of us uttered a word. I stood breathlessly 
 watching the child, who had taken the victim in her two 
 hands, and was gazing at it with a bewildered air. I would 
 greatly have preferred that she had flown at me like a 
 young tigress. At last I could endure the silence no 
 longer. 
 
 " Sacha," I faltered in a smothered voice, " I did n't 
 mean to grieve you. See, it is a youroudivyi" 
 
 On hearing my voice, she started violently, and turning, 
 gave me a look that cut me to the heart. I took a step 
 toward her ; but she repelled me with a passionate gesture, 
 and in a trembling voice that I scarcely recognized, 
 exclaimed, 
 
 " So it was you ! you ! Oh, Mitia, how could you do it? 
 Never speak to me again, never ! Oh, it was vile, 
 cowardly ! " 
 
 She paused, overcome with emotion. As for me, there 
 was such a big lump in my throat that I could not utter a 
 word. I would gladly have given everything I possessed 
 in the world if I had not done the deed. In a moment she 
 dropped the mutilated body of her doll on the floor, and 
 turned toward the door. 
 
 "Where are you going?" I cried in anguish. "It 
 is terribly cold, and the ground is covered with snow." 
 
 " Let me alone," she retorted savagely. " I forbid you 
 to follow me."
 
 76 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 And she rushed out, leaving me rooted to the spot. I 
 heard the sound of her rapid footsteps die away in the 
 distance. Where was she going? I dared not follow her. 
 The sound of her departing footsteps upon the frozen 
 ground, the disfigured doll lying on the floor, the terrible 
 grief I had seen depicted on Sacha's poor little face, all 
 combined to overpower me, and sinking into a chair, I put 
 my head on the table and burst into tears. 
 
 " Fool, coward, wretch that I am ! " I groaned, beating 
 my head with my clenched fists. "Can it be I have done 
 such a thing ! I, and to that poor child ! Oh, Sacha, 
 Sacha, if I could only give you back your doll ! " 
 
 I do not know how long I sat there ; but the opening of 
 the door at last aroused me from my sorrowful revery. I 
 looked up quickly, hoping to see Sacha enter, but it was 
 Porphyre. 
 
 He seated himself by the stove, and I sullenly buried 
 my face in my arm again to shut out the sight of him. 
 After a moment, I heard a sort of guffaw. He had just 
 perceived the youroudivyi, and he was laughing at it. 
 
 His mirth exasperated me. It made me realize even 
 more thoroughly the enormity of my act ; and adding in- 
 justice to my other crimes, I turned, and without a word of 
 warning, gave him a violent box on the ear. 
 
 " That will teach you to laugh, you idiot ! " I roared 
 wrathfully. "Well, aren't you going to hit me back? 
 What are your fists for?" 
 
 " But I 'm not mad," he replied, staring at me in such 
 artless surprise that I could not help laughing in spite of 
 my grief. 
 
 " You are the biggest simpleton I ever saw ! " I ex- 
 claimed, giving him another blow, a friendly one this
 
 A THRILLING ADVENTURE WITH A WOLF. 77 
 
 time on the shoulder. "What did you come for? " I 
 added, without even caring to hear his response, however. 
 
 " I came to tell you that the wolf has been seen again," 
 Porphyre answered stolidly, evidently not making the 
 slightest effort to fathom the cause of my agitation. 
 
 " The wolf? " I repeated absently. 
 
 " Yes ; you know. His tracks were seen near the vil- 
 lage awhile ago, you remember. Well, the cold has driven 
 him out of the woods, and he was seen again this morning. 
 They say he 's enormous." 
 
 I sprang to my feet. The wolf was prowling around 
 the village, and Sacha where was she? What if the poor 
 child had fled to the woods to conceal her grief, as she 
 had done more than once when I was tormenting her. 
 My head swam, and a thousand horrible visions flitted 
 before my eyes. 
 
 I seized the astonished Porphyre by the throat, and wild 
 with terror and anxiety, I shook him violently. 
 
 " Where is she?" I cried. "Where is she, I say?" 
 
 " Eh ! what? You 're strangling me, Dmitri." 
 
 " Sacha, Sacha ! " I cried, relaxing my hold so suddenly 
 that Porphyre fell to the floor, overturning bench and table 
 in his fall. "Where is she? Where shall I look for her? 
 Here, Snap, here ! " I shouted, throwing him a little hand- 
 kerchief Sacha was in the habit of wearing around her 
 neck. " Find her, find her, my good dog ! Find Sacha." 
 
 I opened the door ; he sprang out, and in another second 
 I heard the peculiar bark that a hunting dog gives When 
 he finds the scent, and saw him dart off like a streak of 
 lightning toward the forest. My blood curdled in my 
 veins. The wolf was there unquestionably. Could we get 
 there in time ?
 
 78 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 I caught up a heavy stick and rushed after the dog, who 
 uttered a shrill bark now and then as he flew swiftly on, 
 without turning either to the right or left. 
 
 Night was coming on ; the snow-covered fields stretched 
 before us, silent and deserted. No human being was visi- 
 ble. All the houses were closed ; but as I ran by, I pounded 
 on several windows with my stick and shouted, " Help, 
 help, the wolf! " then hastened on without pausing to see 
 if I had been heard. 
 
 The dog ran swiftly on and on. Good heavens ! how 
 far it was ! Yes, I knew now. When anything troubled 
 her, she was wont to flee to the heart of the forest, like a 
 wounded doe; but never in winter until now. The cold 
 alone was enough to kill her, she was so frail and 
 delicate. 
 
 Frantic with terror, I rushed on. Big tears, that the 
 cutting wind froze on my cheeks, streamed from my 
 eyes. 
 
 Suddenly Snap seemed to redouble his speed. As he 
 did so, he uttered a still more piercing bark ; and above it 
 I heard a despairing cry of " Help, Mitia, help ! " 
 
 Oh, what a cry of anguish I uttered in reply ! " Here 
 I am, Sacha, here I am! Where are you?" I shouted 
 wildly, despairingly. 
 
 There was a sharp turn in the road just before me. 
 When I reached it, a terrible sight met my gaze. Sacha 
 was lying on the snow at the edge of the forest. Over 
 her, with one paw already on her breast, but with his 
 foaming mouth and bristling mane turned toward me, 
 stood an enormous wolf, his red eyes shining like rubies 
 in the dim light. 
 
 Oh, how far off it seemed ! Should I get there in time
 
 DMITRI RESCUING SACHA FROM THE WOLF.
 
 A THRILLING AD VENTURE WITH A WOLF. 8 1 
 
 to save her? How could I hope to succeed with no 
 weapon but my stick ! Just at that instant my foot 
 caught in the root of a tree, and I fell full length upon 
 the ground. 
 
 Another piercing shriek rent the air. My head had 
 struck the tree with such violence, that I should have 
 been stunned had not my little sister's cry aroused me 
 from my torpor. I sprang up, but my brave dog was 
 ahead of me. With a savage growl, he had sprung upon 
 his formidable adversary, and planted his sharp teeth 
 firmly in his throat ; and the two animals were now rolling 
 over and over each other on the ground in deadly combat. 
 
 Quick as thought I ran to Sacha and set her on her feet. 
 She was half dead with fright, but otherwise unhurt. A 
 single glance convinced me of that, though her clothing was 
 badly torn. A second more and all would have been over. 
 
 I pressed her passionately to my heart. Oh, the joy 
 of that moment ! But we were not out of danger yet. If 
 my brave Snap was worsted in the struggle, what would 
 become of us? I placed myself in front of Sacha to protect 
 her if worst came to worst, and turned my attention to 
 the combatants. 
 
 The snow around them was stained with blood, but the 
 conflict was raging with undiminished fury. The wolf 
 seemed likely to come off victorious however ; so I rushed 
 forward and dealt him a violent blow on the head with my 
 stick. This partially stunned him at the very instant that 
 the dog with one final effort tore the beast's throat from 
 ear to ear. A torrent of blood spurted in my very face ; 
 the wolf uttered a lugubrious howl, and turning a somer- 
 sault in the air, fell dead upon the snow. 
 
 Just then Porphyre, pale with terror, came running up, 
 
 6
 
 82 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 followed by several peasants armed with clubs and pitch- 
 forks. They assisted me in moving the body of the wolf, 
 which had fallen upon Snap. The poor dog was, to all 
 appearance, lifeless; his snowy coat was stained with 
 blood in twenty places ; his eyes were closed, and he had 
 ceased to breathe. 
 
 " Snap," I cried despairingly, " you 're not dead ! you 
 can't be dead ! Wake up ! It is I, your master." 
 
 But he remained motionless ; and falling on my knees 
 beside him, I wept as if my heart would break. I could 
 not believe that he was dead. 
 
 " Come," said Porphyre, " come, brother. We must go 
 home. It is getting late." 
 
 " Do you suppose I am going to leave him here for the 
 wolves to eat? " 
 
 " We will take him with us." 
 
 " But we shall have to carry Sacha." 
 
 " No, no, I will walk," sobbed Sacha. " Yes, let us 
 take him home with us, Mitia. Poor dog, he was a thou- 
 sand times better than I ! To think that he should give his 
 life for me when I have always treated him so unkindly, and 
 given him nothing but harsh words. You did right to love 
 him, Dmitri. How can you ever forgive me for being the 
 cause of his death ? " 
 
 " Oh, Sacha, how can you ever forgive me for what I 
 did to-day? It is all my fault! But for me, you would 
 not have run away, and poor Snap would still be alive. I 
 did not intend to grieve you, I assure you. I only did it 
 for fun." 
 
 Sacha bowed her head to conceal her tears. 
 
 " Come, Mitia, let us pick him up," interposed Porphyre, 
 suddenly. " I will help you carry him."
 
 A THRILLING ADVENTURE WITH A WOLF. 83 
 
 But as we lifted the brave dog, he gave a faint moan. 
 In his astonishment, Porphyre let the poor beast fall to 
 the ground with such violence that Snap opened his lan- 
 guid eyes and tried to show his teeth. In our excessive 
 joy, we committed all sorts of absurdities. I began to 
 dance and sing, throwing my cap into the air and embrac- 
 ing Sacha, Porphyre, and the dog indiscriminately. 
 
 While the peasants were engaged in measuring the wolf, 
 which was unusually large, fully six feet in length, if I 
 remember rightly, I heard the sound of approaching car- 
 riage-wheels. It proved to be my father returning home 
 as fast as Vodka could bring him. I explained the situa- 
 tion of affairs to him. Sacha and Snap were placed in the 
 vehicle, and my father drove swiftly off, leaving all the rest 
 of us to follow. 
 
 The peasants carried the body of the wolf to the village, 
 and the skin was tanned and subsequently used as a rug 
 by my father. It must still be in our house in Sitovka. 
 My dear old home, shall I ever see it again? 
 
 Sacha soon recovered from her fright. As for poor 
 Snap, it took skilful doctoring and careful nursing to save 
 him, for his wounds were numerous and severe ; but my 
 father devoted himself heart and soul to the work, and 
 Sacha would have died rather than abandon her post by 
 the invalid. It was really to her that he owed his re- 
 covery, and he repaid her devotion with the true affection 
 of an honest nature. 
 
 My father did not scold me when I confessed my fault, 
 but contented himself with saying, in an earnest tone that 
 went straight to my heart, 
 
 " I shall not reproach you, my boy, for you have seen 
 the almost fatal consequences of your joke. I am sure
 
 84 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 you understand that the perpetration of such tricks are no 
 sign of courage or wit, especially when the victim is a 
 weaker person than yourself." 
 
 " Yes, Father, yes, I will never be guilty of such a thing 
 again. Sacha has forgiven me. It is the last time I will 
 ever tease her, I swear it ! " 
 
 And it was the last. The lesson had been a terrible one, 
 but I profited by it. 
 
 One day, after Snap had entirely recovered from his 
 wounds, I brought Sacha a little coffin, which I had con- 
 structed with all the care and skill of which I was cap- 
 able. In it we placed the remains of poor Mademoiselle, 
 wrapped in a handkerchief, and covered with flowers. 
 Sacha shed a few tears, but bravely concealed her grief 
 so as not to pain me. I officiated as pope at the funeral 
 services, and Snap followed the coffin with a long black rib- 
 bon tied to his tail. We buried her at the foot of the 
 garden. Peace to her ashes !
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE SITOVKA FAIR. 
 
 THE great event of the year to us was the Sitovka 
 Fair. I still remember our feverish waiting just 
 before the great festival, when the gypsies began to en- 
 camp on the steppe, and the various side-shows established 
 themselves in the public square. This fair attracted a 
 great many people to our village. Our towns are so far 
 apart that a journey of a hundred and fifty versts 1 is con- 
 sidered a mere trifle when one's pleasure or profit is in- 
 volved ; besides, coming as this fair did, in the spring of 
 the year, the weather was no drawback. The long winter 
 was over, and I do not remember a single fair when the 
 weather was not superb. 
 
 In foreign books I have always seen Russia depicted as 
 a gloomy country, shrouded in eternal snow ; but this is 
 a great mistake. Our springs are usually delightful, and 
 that which immediately followed my thirteenth birthday 
 was unusually fine. 
 
 I rose before the sun on the opening day of the fair, 
 and took a run through the fields in order to make the 
 most of the beautiful morning, and enjoy, in anticipation, 
 the pleasures in store for me. 
 
 The larks were singing their sweetest songs ; the crows 
 were chattering gayly in the tree-tops, and the azure sky 
 
 1 A verst is 3,501 feet.
 
 86 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 was flecked by only a few light, fleecy clouds. It was 
 happiness enough to be living on such a morning as this. 
 It was vacation, so I could be as idle as I chose. There 
 was no recollection of lessons unlearned to mar my enjoy- 
 ment, as was too often the case, even on the days when I 
 did not honor the schoolhouse with my presence. 
 
 I was becoming a little more studious as I grew older 
 however, and Master Lebewohl began to cherish some 
 hope of seeing me become less of a dunce; it was thus 
 that he encouraged me to climb the rugged hill of 
 learning. 
 
 When I returned from my walk, vehicles of every descrip- 
 tion were pouring into the village, droschkts, tttegues, 
 covered wagons, and chaises, some dilapidated affairs, 
 others well kept and shining, but all crowded with people 
 from the surrounding country, some clad in fine apparel, 
 others in sheepskin. 
 
 I found Sacha waiting for me on our doorstep ; and seat- 
 ing myself beside her, I began to talk over our plans for 
 the day. Porphyre was sure to join us shortly. 
 
 It is needless to say that all three of us were enthusias- 
 tic admirers of all the side-shows. Fat women, educated 
 monkeys, menageries, panoramas, and wax figures all pos- 
 sessed a wonderful charm for us ; but what we loved best 
 of all was the circus. We equalled the ancient Romans 
 in our profound appreciation of this species of diversion. 
 If a circus came to Sitovka we soon knew each rider by 
 name, and his every word and gesture had a wonderful 
 charm for us. What would we not have given to attend 
 every performance ! an impossibility of course, on ac- 
 count of the very limited state of our finances; but my 
 father managed to send us occasionally, and our recollec-
 
 THE S1TOVKA FAIR. 87 
 
 tions of it served to enliven our sports all the rest of the 
 year. 
 
 We imitated the bareback riders, Sacha representing 
 the leading lady being escorted to her fiery steed the 
 trunk of an old tree in the garden by Porphyre, who 
 also filled the important r61e of clown of the troupe. I 
 assumed the duties of director, and had even made several 
 attempts to stand erect upon Vodka's back ; but this pro- 
 ceeding proved so distasteful to him that he deposited me 
 on the ground without the slightest ceremony. As for 
 Snap, all my attempts to make him walk on a cask proved 
 utterly futile, and I was obliged to content myself with 
 making him leap high in the air on hearing the name of 
 the czar, and show his teeth ominously at the mention of 
 the odious Turk. If I had been given my choice of a 
 profession at that time, I should certainly have decided 
 upon that of a circus rider, and Porphyre and Sacha 
 would have followed my example. 
 
 " Tiihr's circus has come ! " shouted Porphyre, as far off 
 as he could see us. " He has two elephants and a trained 
 horse that beats the very deuce. I have a rouble- to spend. 
 My godfather gave it to me," his godfather was a rich 
 farmer in the neighborhood, " and do you know, Dmitri, 
 that they say Tiihr is going to hire out some of his saddle 
 horses? They 're very different from your poor Vodka, - 
 real trained saddle horses, you know, that will obey the 
 slightest pull of the rein. Upon my word ! I've a great 
 mind to take a ride. It will cost a good deal, to be sure, 
 but it will be great fun. You 'd like to have one, too, 
 wouldn't you, Sacha? Oh, well, you'll have a chance 
 some day or other, perhaps." 
 
 Seeing Porphyre's air of importance, a feeling of
 
 88 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 envy at his good fortune took possession of our 
 souls. 
 
 " I 've only a few kopecks" said Sacha, jingling them in 
 her apron pocket, with a little sigh. 
 
 " I have two griveniks and three kopecks," I added, 
 " but I want them for something else." 
 
 I intended to purchase a doll for Sacha to take Made- 
 moiselle's place. 
 
 " Oh, well, you two can have a ride some other time," 
 said Porphyre, condescendingly; and he left us, after 
 promising to meet us a little later in the square, for 
 Father needed us at home that morning. 
 
 Our usually quiet cottage was the scene of unwonted 
 commotion on Fair days. Ever since daybreak, people 
 from the surrounding country had been coming in to con- 
 sult my father, whose medical skill was held in high esteem 
 throughout the district. It was rumored that a wealthy 
 resident of St. Petersburg who had an estate in the neigh- 
 borhood had publicly declared that one would have to go 
 to the capital in order to find a physician equal to F6dor 
 Illitch Terentieff, and I was very proud of the report. 
 
 Sacha and I were charged with the duty of ushering the 
 peasants and farmers' wives, one by one, into the front 
 room, and subsequently into the presence of my father, who 
 sat in his big armchair, awaiting them. 
 
 Those who did not pay in money and by far the greater 
 number did not paid us in provisions, which were a very 
 welcome addition to the contents of our larder. They 
 brought salt meat, honey, butter, cheese, home-made wines, 
 and dried mushrooms, which would have gladdened the 
 heart of our thrifty little housekeeper, if she had not 
 known that they would disappear almost before she had
 
 THE SITOVKA FAIR. 89 
 
 arranged them on her pantry shelves ; for my father always 
 had some patient who needed this or that delicacy, and he 
 gave it without the slightest hesitation. The farmers' 
 wives often presented themselves with a pair of chickens 
 tied fast together, in their hands. They respectfully de- 
 posited their offering on the doorsill before entering the 
 house, and Sacha and I were instructed to set the fowls 
 free. As soon as we had succeeded in untying them, 
 no easy task by reason of their fluttering and pecking, we 
 carried them to the little chicken-yard back of the house, 
 where they were fed and watered. 
 
 But at last the moment of release came ; and with faces 
 shining with soap, and our Sunday clothes on our backs, we 
 hastened toward the Fair grounds. The noise and uproar 
 could be distinctly heard even as far off as our house. It 
 was a confused medley of neighing, bellowing, and snort- 
 ing, dominated by the shrill cries of geese and the barking 
 of angry dogs, with a constant accompaniment of hand- 
 organs, clashing cymbals, powder crackers, and firearms, 
 all making a hubbub that was sweetest music to our ears. 
 
 We soon reached the square where the fair was held. 
 
 The enclosure was surrounded by several rows of vehi- 
 cles. It was here that the horses were sold. They were 
 of every sort and kind, large and small; big, clumsy 
 draught horses, handsome carriage horses, long legged 
 trotters, animals whose days of usefulness were long since 
 over, and young, half broken steeds from the Ukraine, 
 horses from Viatka, with their manes and tails gayly 
 adorned with red ribbons, and harness elaborately deco- 
 rated with brass mountings. But connoisseurs did not 
 allow themselves to be influenced by this display, and de- 
 manded that the horse should be divested of all this
 
 9O SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 toggery before they decided upon its merits. It was as 
 good as a play to hear the owner swear by all the gods 
 that the animal was a marvel of beauty, a jewel, a steed 
 worthy of Jupiter, and see the would-be purchaser survey 
 the horse with a contemptuous air, poking out his under 
 lip and expectorating every other second. 
 
 Congregated around the horses was a motley throng of 
 buyers, spectators, jockeys, and mounted Cossacks, gypsies 
 with circles of bistre around their eyes, peasants in long 
 sheepskin overcoats, and Jews with greasy corkscrew ring- 
 lets hanging about their ears, all talking and shouting and 
 gesticulating and pushing and scolding with all their might. 
 It was with no little difficulty that we succeeded in forcing 
 our way through this crowd, and I recollected that my 
 father had bidden me take great care of Sacha. 
 
 " Above all, don't let her get too near the horses," he 
 had said to me ; " one of them might kick her." So, see- 
 ing that the crowd was becoming more and more dense, I 
 elbowed my way to a shed at the end of the square, where 
 the dealers in fancy articles and household utensils had 
 established themselves. 
 
 Here there were many more women and children than 
 men, and the counters were covered with gay ribbons and 
 gaudy stuffs, silk handkerchiefs, boots and shoes, and all 
 sorts of feminine adornments. Many of the women wore 
 the national head-dress, the kakochnik, which is shaped 
 like a big inverted horseshoe, and which married women 
 alone have the right to wear. Some rosy-cheeked maidens 
 wore the kika, which covers the hair entirely, or the tiara- 
 like paroinik adorned with long, floating ribbons ; others, 
 who were inclined to abandon ancient customs and our 
 graceful and becoming national costume, contented them-
 
 THE S1TOVKA FAIR. 91 
 
 selves with a silk handkerchief, knotted under the chin. 
 The faces were almost invariably red and shining, for the 
 heat was intense. Suddenly we caught sight of Porphyre, 
 whose face was as luminous as the sun. In obedience to 
 his mother's orders, he was purchasing a hat to take the 
 place of the cap he usually wore, and he seemed utterly 
 unable to decide upon the relative merits of the different 
 styles a garrulous old woman was displaying for his 
 benefit. She had just placed on his head a straight- 
 brimmed white straw hat, with a plaid ribbon around the 
 crown. The hat was much too small for him, but the poor 
 boy was too much afraid of the voluble saleswoman to pro- 
 test, though his face was as red as a strawberry, and he cast 
 despairing glances around him ; so Sacha, unwilling to add 
 to his embarrassment, dragged me away. 
 
 But I must say that when Porphyre passed us shortly 
 afterwards with his gray caftan it was made out of one of 
 his father's, and cut large enough to last him several sea- 
 sons fastened around his waist with a blue sash, and his 
 new hat perched rakishly on one side of his head, I thought 
 his appearance quite imposing. He was brandishing a 
 switch that he had cut from a tree near by, and he called 
 out to us in a shrill falsetto voice, a real Russian voice : 
 
 " It 's all right ! I 'm going to take my horseback 
 ride now." 
 
 " Take care you don't lose your hat. It looks to me as 
 if it was too small," replied Sacha, rather maliciously, little 
 thinking how soon her words would prove true. 
 
 A few minutes afterward Porphyre rode proudly by us, 
 mounted on a big white horse with a Roman nose. 
 
 " He 's as gentle as a dove," he cried, as he trotted past. 
 
 He was proceeding quietly down the road when a beg-
 
 92 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 gar, seated by the roadside, suddenly began to grind out 
 the opening measures of the waltz from " Faust " on his 
 little hand-organ. 
 
 The white horse pricked up his ears. 
 
 " Quiet, old boy," faltered Porphyre, patting the neck of 
 his steed ; but lo and behold ! the animal stretched out his 
 right leg to its full length and began to whirl round and 
 round like a top. Porphyre tugged fiercely at the reins, 
 and almost pulled his horse over backward; but without 
 avail. It was utterly impossible to check this determined 
 waltzer. 
 
 "It's an educated horse!" cried Sacha, laughing; 
 "but I think I'd rather ride the trunk of a tree for all 
 that." 
 
 Our friend, now thoroughly frightened, quite uncon- 
 sciously pressed his father's boots, which unfortunately 
 happened to be provided with spurs, into the horse's 
 flanks, whereupon the animal started off on a swift gallop, 
 and we could hear Porphyre call out tremblingly, 
 
 " Gently ! be quiet, now ! Whoa ! whoa ! ! whoa ! ! ! " 
 
 But all in vain. The white horse had never had a 
 rider of this sort on his back before. He wondered what 
 it meant ; he lost his head completely, and flew on and on 
 with the speed of the wind. Porphyre's new hat flew off, 
 and the gray caftan and blue sash streamed wildly out 
 behind him. The dogs, too, started in pursuit, barking 
 with all their might. 
 
 Porphyre clasped his arms around the horse's neck ; he 
 clung to his mane, to his ears; he shrieked wildly for 
 help. Sacha and I, in company with the dogs, Snap was 
 at the head of the gang, started after him. Soon the 
 horse and rider became merely a white speck in the distance.
 
 PORPHYRE AND THE CIRCUS HORSE.
 
 THE S1TOVKA FAIR. 95 
 
 " He '11 be killed ! the poor fellow will certainly be 
 killed ! " cried Sacha. 
 
 Just then the horse leaped a hedge. A shallow pond 
 lay on the other side of it, and with a terrible cry, Por- 
 phyre fell to the ground. 
 
 We ran with all our might, raised him up, and examined 
 him. 
 
 " There are no bones broken," said Sacha, joyfully. 
 " What a terrible scare you gave us ! " 
 
 Porphyre had really received no injuries except a few 
 slight bruises, but the fine gray caftan and handsome blue 
 sash were in a frightful condition. Both were a mass of 
 mud; even Porphyre's round face and thick yellow hair 
 were covered with it. 
 
 " Luck is always against me : there is no doubt about 
 it," groaned Porphyre, tragically. 
 
 " Don't complain," said Sacha, biting her lips to keep 
 from laughing. " The mud eased your fall. You might 
 have been killed but for that! " 
 
 As for me, I was holding my sides ; but though I did n't 
 hesitate to laugh at my unfortunate friend, I very willingly 
 assisted Sacha in her efforts to restore the unfortunate 
 cavalier to some semblance of his former self. We brushed 
 him and rubbed him with grass, torn up by handfuls on the 
 roadside ; but he could not be made presentable, for to 
 crown his misfortunes he had fallen in the nettles that 
 bordered the pond. It seemed to him that his face was on 
 fire, and he scratched it so furiously that big white blisters 
 appeared upon his cheeks and nose. 
 
 " Where is my hat? " he suddenly cried, in a voice that 
 made us tremble, as he raised both hands despairingly to 
 his head.
 
 96 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 I ran to look for it, but what a sight it was ! Snap had 
 found it and torn it nearly into fragments. It was a 
 tattered, shapeless piece of headgear that even a gypsy 
 would scorn to wear. On seeing me, Snap dropped it, 
 wagged his tail in the most engaging manner, and laid 
 his paw on the hat as if to challenge me to a game. He 
 was in excellent spirits, and seemed to think I ought to 
 share his gayety. I gave him a violent cuff, that appeared 
 to surprise him very much ; but he persisted in believing 
 that this was only a part of the fun, and bounded gayly 
 after me. 
 
 On regaining possession of his hat, Porphyre uttered a 
 cry of mingled wrath and dismay. 
 
 " My new hat ! " he groaned. " Oh, what will Mother 
 say? She told me to be so careful of it." 
 
 The pope's wife was not likely to view her son's escapade 
 with a lenient eye. She was a strict disciplinarian, and dry 
 bread, solitary confinement, and perhaps the lash, these 
 were what our companion had every reason to anticipate. 
 
 We gazed at each other in speechless consternation for 
 several minutes. 
 
 " Listen to me," said Sacha, at last. " Dmitri meant to 
 give me a doll; I have several kopecks, and you, Por- 
 phyre, must have some of your rouble left " (there was a 
 gleam of mischief in her eyes as she uttered these words) ; 
 " well, let us all put our money together, and buy another 
 hat for Porphyre." 
 
 I made a slight grimace, and Porphyre protested a little, 
 but Sacha had her way. 
 
 We selected another hat, a larger one this time. 
 
 " Now, let 's hurry home so you can dry yourself," 
 Sacha remarked, after the purchase was made.
 
 THE SITOVKA FAIR. 97 
 
 As we were plodding toward our cottage we very nar- 
 rowly escaped being knocked down by the big white horse, 
 who was galloping back to his stable with quivering nostrils 
 and tail high in the air. 
 
 " How fortunate ! He might have made his escape to 
 the plains, and then there would have been nothing left for 
 me to do but kill myself! " cried Porphyre, gloomily. 
 
 Sacha did her best to remove all traces of the accident 
 by a lavish use of warm water and soap. My father ap- 
 plied a soothing lotion to the poor lad's face, and the day 
 ended very peacefully. In the evening, my father took all 
 three of us to the circus, where we had the satisfaction of 
 seeing the white horse fire a pistol and say his letters 
 as if he had spent his life in a shooting gallery and a 
 school-room.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 AN IRREPARABLE LOSS. 
 
 T HAVE lingered over the memories of those happy 
 days, for I am nearing the most sorrowful period of 
 my life, and I shrink from speaking of it. Very soon 
 after the events I have just narrated, I lost my father. I 
 have known many bitter trials since, and I have spent 
 many gloomy hours, but no misery that could be com- 
 pared with my utter desolation and despair when my only 
 friend departed, leaving me alone in this dreary world. 
 
 Up to that time, I had been only a thoughtless, light- 
 hearted child ; but my father's death effected a complete 
 transformation in me. My childhood ended then and 
 there, and everything assumed a changed aspect in my 
 eyes. 
 
 It was autumn, and my fourteenth birthday had just 
 passed, when the condition of my father's health became 
 much more alarming. Day by day he became thinner, 
 and his chest more contracted, while the hectic flush upon 
 his cheeks made the wax-like pallor of the rest of his face 
 all the more noticeable, and his sunken eyes gleamed with 
 extraordinary brilliancy. Still, I suspected nothing; but 
 one day, as I was passing a field bordered by a thick 
 hedge, in which two men were working, my father drove 
 by in his shabby old tftegue. He spoke to them pleasantly, 
 calling them both by name.
 
 4N IRREPARABLE LOSS. 99 
 
 " God help you, Fe" dor Illitch ! " they responded solemnly. 
 
 " Until time shall be no more," answered my father. 
 
 The laborers stood for a moment watching him. 
 
 " He will soon see the Saviour face to face," said the 
 elder of them, as he stooped to pick up his spade again. 
 
 His companion sighed. 
 
 " He to-day ; you or I to-morrow, perhaps," he answered, 
 with an air of resignation. 
 
 And they resumed their work. 
 
 But I stood on the other side of the hedge, as if petri- 
 fied, so completely was I stunned by this terrible revela- 
 tion. Was it possible ? Could it be that my father was 
 about to leave me, me, who had never been separated 
 from him a day in my life ? I was about to lose him ! A 
 little while, and I should see his kind face and hear his 
 loving voice no more ! I should be left without a single 
 near relative to help me endure existence in a world which 
 had suddenly become intolerably cold and desolate ! And 
 I might live on without my father sixty, even eighty years 
 perhaps, I was so strong and healthy ! A feeling of abject 
 terror seized me. It seemed to me that it would be im- 
 possible to endure such a calamity. The mere thought 
 of death was unspeakably revolting to me, and in my 
 agony of soul I could scarcely refrain from shrieking 
 aloud ; but I could not bear that the peasants should see 
 my grief, so I precipitately fled. 
 
 Like Sacha, I rushed to the forest to hide my misery. 
 Poor little Sacha ! she, too, would be left without a home 
 or protector. Tears of compassion for her as well as for 
 myself filled my eyes; and throwing myself down upon 
 the moss, I wept as if my heart would break. Oh, my 
 father, my only friend ! why should you be taken from us?
 
 100 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 For several years I had felt a vague fear of this misfortune, 
 but never once had I looked the reality full in the face. 
 I had resolutely blinded myself to the ravages the disease 
 was making, no very difficult task, as my father was 
 always so cheerful and courageous, and so loath to admit 
 he was suffering, that he seemed to defy his malady to get 
 the better of him. 
 
 But undeceived by the remarks I had just heard, I could 
 not doubt that his days were numbered. A thousand tri- 
 fling incidents, a thousand petty details, recurred to my 
 mind, his shorter and more labored breathing ; the fre- 
 quent fits of coughing that tore his lungs and stained his 
 lips with blood ; the evident effort it cost him to get in and 
 out of his carriage ; his almost insurmountable aversion to 
 our coarse food; and above all, that anxious, sorrowful, 
 far-away look, which I had sometimes noticed in his eyes, 
 and which recurred to me so distinctly now, the far-away 
 look of one already on the borders of the celestial land. 
 
 As I gazed tearfully around me, the thought that this 
 still beautiful earth would soon close over him forever 
 filled me with despair. It seemed to me that the autumnal 
 sunshine, the calm repose of nature, the lovely landscape, 
 were all cruel and unfeeling. What did my grief and de- 
 spair matter to them? The grass would be no less green, 
 the sky no less blue. At the same time, I remembered 
 how little comfort I had been to this beloved parent. I 
 had not even given him the satisfaction of seeing me profit 
 by the advantages he had given me ; I had even allowed 
 the few talents with which I was endowed to remain idle. 
 How mortified such a learned and clever man must have 
 felt to see his son so dull ! I longed to run after him and 
 promise to do better in the future ; to swear that I would
 
 /IN IRREPARABLE LOSS. IOI 
 
 never again selfishly yield to my love of idleness ; but the 
 strange difficulty I had always had in expressing my feel- 
 ings deterred me. Had I ever overcome my natural re- 
 serve sufficiently to give him any verbal assurance of my 
 affection ? No ; and yet I loved him, loved him with 
 my whole heart! But this new grief was assuaged in a 
 measure by the conviction that he knew my affection for 
 him, and that we really understood each other. 
 
 I recalled a hundred proofs of his tender love for Sacha 
 and me. My father, my beloved father ! And he would 
 soon leave me forever ! I should have him only a little 
 while longer now ! I thought bitterly of the middle-aged 
 people in our village old people they seemed to me 
 whose aged parents were still spared to them, while my 
 father was soon to be taken from me. Ignat Stepanovitch, 
 the peasant whose ominous remark I had overheard a few 
 minutes before, had a son thirty years old, and yet his poor 
 old father was still alive, bent almost double, toothless, im- 
 becile, and half blind. Why should this old man, whose life 
 must be a burden to him, live on, and my father be cut 
 down in his prime? Not that I wished any harm to Ignat or 
 old Stepan ; but I said to myself that at their age they 
 must certainly feel more resigned to parting with each 
 other than my father and I ! 
 
 It was not until nightfall that I left the forest and slowly 
 wended my way homeward. I found my father lying back 
 in his big armchair, gasping for breath. It was so dark 
 in the room that I could not see his face; but I crept softly 
 up to him and 'seated myself on the floor at his feet. A 
 few minutes passed in silence ; then, placing his emaciated 
 hand tenderly on my head, he asked gently, 
 
 "What are you thinking about, Mitia? "
 
 102 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 But I could not answer him. A big lump rose in my 
 throat; I bowed my head, and in another moment I was 
 sobbing wildly. 
 
 " My poor child, my poor dear boy ! " said my father. 
 " My heart bleeds at the thought of the loneliness in store 
 for you. You must see, my son, that I have not long to 
 live ; I feel that I have made my last round of visits to-day. 
 We must soon bid each other farewell, my dear child. I 
 shall leave you alone in the world, without fortune, without 
 relatives, without even a protector ! I have nothing to 
 bequeath to you but an unsullied name, that I once hoped 
 to make illustrious. Alas ! that was not to be ! But you, 
 my son, will you not achieve something for your father's 
 sake? Will you not make an effort to rise from the ob- 
 scurity to which fate condemned him? You are not with- 
 out ability, and you can, if you choose, elevate yourself 
 above the common herd. During your childhood, as you 
 know, I would not consent to torment you with studies 
 that had no attraction for you. Do not make me regret 
 my indulgence, my dear son. Now that you will soon 
 be without a friend or adviser, and have your adopted 
 sister to take care of, it is time for you to put away child- 
 ish things and become a man, in order to protect yourself 
 and her. Can I depend upon you, Dmitri?" 
 
 " Yes, Father," I replied, choking down my sobs. 
 
 " Never forget that there is nothing half so precious as 
 your honor," continued my father. " Suffer everything, 
 hunger, thirst, even death itself, if need be ! rather than 
 commit a base or dishonorable act. Never attack one who 
 is weaker than yourself; respect the poor and unfortunate ; 
 never cringe to the rich and powerful. Recollect that 
 a man's worth depends entirely upon personal merit,
 
 /IN IRREPARABLE LOSS. 103 
 
 and that the humblest peasant is the peer of the throned 
 czar, if his heart is pure and his life upright. Be honest, 
 truthful, and just. Your poverty and isolation will perhaps 
 expose you to many temptations, but never yield to them, 
 Dmitri. Choose death rather than dishonor ! " 
 
 I have never forgotten those words. 
 
 We sat in silence a long time. I had taken my father's 
 hand in mine, and was clasping it tightly, as if hoping in 
 this way to keep him with me. 
 
 Sacha had stolen noiselessly in, and was kneeling beside 
 me. 
 
 After a little, he spoke again, but in a much feebler 
 voice this time. 
 
 " Listen to me, my children," he said tenderly. " Now, 
 I know that death is so near, don't sob so, Sacha, dear, 
 I must talk with you and tell you what you had better 
 do. I have given much thought to the subject. It would 
 not be hard for me to die if it were not for my anxiety 
 concerning your future. I have a friend in Moscow. 
 You have heard me speak of him, Dmitri. His name is 
 Nicholas Ivanovitch Berezoff. We were playmates in 
 childhood. He, his brother Alexis, and I were also fellow 
 students at the University in Moscow ; and though circum- 
 stances have caused us to drift apart, and almost lose 
 sight of each other, I have always felt a deep affection for 
 him, and have every reason to believe that his sentiments 
 toward me have undergone no change. I have therefore 
 written to him, explaining the situation in which you will 
 be placed. Heaven grant that he replies in time for me 
 to know that you will have a protector before our last 
 farewell ! But alas ! my strength is failing fast ! The end 
 is near at hand. Dmitri, if this hope should not be
 
 IO4 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 realized, my last request is that you should acquire a good 
 education, I have been very much to blame ; I ought 
 not to have allowed you to neglect your studies so much, 
 perhaps." 
 
 " Oh, Father, don't say that ! You acted for the best. 
 I will work now, I give you my word I will ! You don't 
 know how hard I will study, and Sacha, too, shall have 
 an education." 
 
 " She will have much less difficulty in acquiring it than 
 you will, I think," said my father, stroking the little brown 
 head tenderly. " But don't allow yourself to become dis- 
 couraged, my dear, dear boy. Patience and perseverance 
 will conquer all things ; and though you may not be very 
 fond of books, you are very patient, are you not, 
 Mitia?" 
 
 " Yes, Father ; and determined, too, when I once make up 
 my mind to do anything." 
 
 And almost unconsciously I clenched my fists as I 
 thought of the struggle before me. Ah, if physical 
 strength had been the only requisite ! still, that might 
 be of no slight assistance. 
 
 My father seemed to read my thoughts, for he laid his 
 burning hand on the brawny shoulders of which I was so 
 proud, and said, 
 
 " Fortunately you are strong and well, and a few priva- 
 tions will do you no harm. Perhaps they will even be an 
 advantage to you. But this child, this frail delicate flower 
 I feel very anxious about her, even more anxious than 
 about you, Mitia. What shall we do about her, my son?" 
 
 " God only knows ! " I sighed. 
 
 " I am not afraid so long as I have Mitia," said Sacha, 
 quickly.
 
 AN IRREPARABLE LOSS. 105 
 
 " Dear child ! " exclaimed my father, deeply touched. 
 And he pressed us both to his heart. 
 
 From that time on, my father failed rapidly. The next 
 morning he tried to go out and visit his patients as usual; 
 but this proved an impossibility, as he had predicted ; and 
 he seated himself in the large armchair which I had placed 
 by the open window, for the one thing absolutely necessary 
 to him now was air. Every few minutes his labored 
 breathing was interrupted by fits of terrible suffocation, or 
 of frightful coughing, which shook him from head to foot, 
 and left him completely exhausted. 
 
 The sight of his sufferings was agony to me, and I hid 
 behind the sofa, trembling all over with grief and impotent 
 rage ; but Sacha, more courageous than I, remained beside 
 him, tenderly wiping off the cold sweat that bedewed his 
 forehead, bathing his temples with fresh water and aro- 
 matic vinegar, and fanning him gently with a big palm-leaf. 
 Indeed, I could not but marvel at the skill with which she 
 replaced the pillows and cushions about his shoulders, and 
 the promptness with which she handed him the desired 
 glass of cold tea or lemonade before he even had time to 
 express a wish for it 
 
 During the week that followed, our little cottage was 
 constantly thronged with neighbors who came to offer 
 assistance or express their sympathy; but as a general 
 thing they remained seated in silence upon the benches 
 that lined the walls. Occasionally one of them would 
 awkwardly rise, and say, 
 
 " Life is hard, Fe"dor Illitch. Rest will be sweet to 
 you." 
 
 " Yes, brother." 
 
 " May eternal happiness be your portion ! "
 
 106 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 " I thank you." 
 
 " God be with you ! " 
 
 Then the visitor would steal out, shaking his head sorrow- 
 fully. The women wept softly as they sipped their tea. 
 
 " Poor soul, his time has come ! " they often exclaimed 
 compassionately. 
 
 Every human soul in the village grieved sincerely, for 
 everybody loved my father. Every one, even the humblest 
 peasant, had experienced numerous proofs of his kindness 
 of heart and unfailing generosity. 
 
 One afternoon as we were all sitting around him, the 
 door opened, and the Princess Lebanoff appeared upon the 
 threshold. I did not even know that she was in the neigh- 
 borhood. Her cousin, the venerable Prince Arcadion 
 Semonovitch Bekounine, was with her. 
 
 " They tell me you are seriously ill, Fedor Illitch," she 
 remarked, as she entered. 
 
 I was struck by her foreign accent. Though she spoke 
 Russian very correctly, one could see that it was not the 
 language she used ordinarily. I learned afterwards that 
 she spoke French almost invariably. Mme. Lebanoff was, 
 in every sense of the word, a great lady; but she had 
 always evinced a marked respect for my father ; and even 
 at that sad time, I noticed the deference she manifested, 
 and the graceful ease with which my father answered her. 
 To other people, the lady's manner was extremely haughty. 
 Meanwhile our humble friends had discreetly retired. 
 
 " Very ill indeed, Daria Alexandrovna," replied my 
 father. " I have not many more days to live now." 
 
 " You may recover." 
 
 " No, I am doomed. I submit to my fate. Dmitri, bring 
 a chair for the princess."
 
 " THAT CHILD IS CHARMING ! "
 
 AN IRREPARABLE LOSS. 109 
 
 "Is that your son?" 
 
 " My only son." 
 
 " And that little girl, I see there? " 
 
 " Is my adopted daughter." 
 
 " Ah ! " 
 
 As she continued her conversation with my father, Mme. 
 Lebanoff drew from her belt a long-handled tortoise-shell 
 eyeglass, and began to examine Sacha. Soon, pausing 
 abruptly in the middle of a remark, she exclaimed, point- 
 ing to my sister with her lorgnette, 
 
 " Do you know, F^dor Illitch, that that child is charm- 
 ing, positively charming? She certainly is not a peasant 
 by birth." 
 
 " I know nothing whatever about her origin," replied 
 my father. 
 
 "Is it possible? Well, she is a little beauty, I assure 
 you ; and I am certainly a judge. What lovely eyes she has, 
 and what hair ! Such an exquisite profile, too ! Yes, she 
 is that rarest of all things, a true aristocrat in appear- 
 ance. Come here, my dear, and let me get a better 
 look at you. Arcadion Semonovitch, is she not charming? " 
 
 " Truly charming," responded the old nobleman, bowing 
 gallantly. 
 
 The princess took Sacha's little brown hands in hers, 
 and again burst out into enthusiastic praises of the em- 
 barrassed child's grace and beauty. I was amazed, for 
 though I loved Sacha dearly, it had never once occurred 
 to me to ask whether she were pretty or ugly. 
 
 " She is a perfect beauty, I assure you ! " exclaimed the 
 princess. " What a divine creature one could make of a 
 child like this ! What do you intend to do with her, 
 Fedor Illitch ?'*
 
 110 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 My father's face clouded. 
 
 "Alas! the thought of the child's future appalls me. I 
 can only leave her fate to Providence. I am a poor man, 
 and can make no provision for her ; but I have written to 
 an old schoolmate in Moscow, and I hope and believe 
 that he will take charge of these poor children after my 
 death." 
 
 The lady's eyes sparkled with delight at these words. 
 
 "An old schoolmate!" she exclaimed. "What could 
 a man do with a child like that? No, no, you must give 
 her to me." 
 
 "To you?" 
 
 " Yes, to me. Do you doubt my ability to rear her 
 properly?" 
 
 " Certainly not. Still " 
 
 " Don't make any more objections, I beg of you, my 
 dear Te"rentieff; I will not listen to them. This child is 
 charming, and it would be a positive crime, to let her 
 vegetate here ; I beg your pardon, Fedor Illitch, but 
 that fact must be apparent to any one. She was born to 
 shine in society. She has noble blood in her veins, un- 
 questionably, and she ought to be restored to her proper 
 sphere ; that is what I propose to do, my friend, with 
 your permission, of course." 
 
 My father seemed greatly perplexed. 
 
 " Why, in Heaven's name, should you object? " cried the 
 princess, impetuously. " I offer the child a superior edu- 
 cation, every comfort, and a place in the best society. 
 You have nothing to give her but the possible protection 
 of an old schoolmate, and yet you hesitate ! " 
 
 " If I were sure that the arrangement would be perma- 
 nent," murmured my father, anxiously.
 
 AN IRREPARABLE LOSS. Ill 
 
 " Oh, nothing can last forever in this world," responded 
 Mme. Lebanoff, carelessly. " You adopted her yourself, 
 and now propose passing her over to an old friend. Why 
 should not I do the same, if need be ? " 
 
 " God is my witness that it is not of my own free will I 
 abandon her," faltered my father; " but " 
 
 " Don't have a worse opinion of me than I deserve, 
 Fedor Illitch. If I ask you for the child, it is for her own 
 good, rest assured." 
 
 " What do you think of Mme. Lebanoff's proposal, 
 Sacha?" asked my father. 
 
 " I don't want to leave Dmitri," stammered Sacha, draw- 
 ing closer to me. 
 
 "That big boy?" responded the princess, haughtily. 
 " Why, that is all nonsense, child. How could he take 
 care of you? How could he procure the masters that you 
 need, and the money to pay them. All this will cost a 
 good deal, I assure you." 
 
 " I thank you for your generous offer, Daria Alexan- 
 drovna," answered my father; " but you must forgive me, 
 if I say that I cannot accept it unless my friend refuses to 
 take charge of the child. I confess that I should prefer a 
 less exalted position in life for her; but, as she may find 
 herself without protection, I thank you for offering yours, 
 and under those circumstances, shall be glad to accept it." 
 
 " But only as a last resort, I see," retorted the princess, 
 dryly. " Well, I shall not retract my promise. I have 
 taken a great fancy to the little girl, so I will consent to 
 your conditions. When do you expect to hear from your 
 friend?" 
 
 " I may never hear from him," murmured my father, 
 despondently.
 
 112 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 " Then if you do not recover, and there is very little 
 chance of that, I fear, my good Terentieff, and if your 
 friend does not give you a satisfactory answer, I am to 
 have the child; and she will have no cause to regret it, 
 I assure you. Dear little thing! I love her already. 
 Arcadion, confess that she is a perfect beauty." 
 
 She caught Sacha up in her arms and kissed her affec- 
 tionately, without appearing to notice my little sister's 
 evident desire to avoid the caress; then, seeing that my 
 father seemed greatly exhausted, she concluded her visit 
 with a few commonplaces, expressive of a hope that he 
 might speedily be restored to health, and gracefully re- 
 tired. Our hearts were heavier than ever when she left 
 us. Sacha wept so bitterly that my father at last called 
 her to him, and in spite of his great weakness, tried to 
 make her understand that it was impossible for him to 
 refuse Mme. Lebanoff's offer. Uncertain as this proffered 
 protection might be, he could die with a more tranquil 
 mind if he knew that she was provided for. So conquer- 
 ing my own grief, I united my entreaties to his ; but poor 
 Sacha still rebelled. 
 
 " Oh, Dmitri, let me stay with you," she pleaded. 
 "What will become of me if I have to go with that lady? 
 I am afraid of her. Oh, keep me with you ! " 
 
 We were unspeakably wretched. Suspense and the 
 likelihood of a speedy separation made the sadness of 
 these last days of my father's life all the more poignant. 
 
 My father was dying; the only thing that seemed to 
 keep him alive was the hope of a letter from Nicholas 
 Be'r^zoff, and this letter did not come. 
 
 At last the hour of parting came. Words are powerless 
 to describe the anguish that filled my soul when I saw the
 
 AN IRREPARABLE LOSS. 113 
 
 light of consciousness slowly fade out of my father's eyes, 
 and the terrible and mysterious shadow of death settle 
 down upon his features, the dread change one can never 
 forget when he has once seen it upon a beloved face. But 
 once more his eyes opened and met my agonized gaze. 
 " Courage ! " murmured the livid lips. 
 
 Then all was over. I rushed out into the old shed like 
 one bereft of reason, and throwing myself face downward 
 on the ground, wept as if my heart would break. 
 
 Dead ! my father dead ! It seemed to me that every- 
 thing had been swept away with him. The immensity of 
 my loss overwhelmed me. I was alone in the world !
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A CRUEL DISAPPOINTMENT. 
 
 SEVERAL days had elapsed. The remains of my be- 
 loved parent had been interred in the dreary little 
 cemetery on the plain just outside the village. I realized 
 now that all was indeed over, that I could never hope 
 to see my dear father again, or hear his voice, or meet his 
 loving gaze. How dreary the cottage seemed ! I could 
 not bear the sight of his big armchair, which appeared to 
 be always waiting for him. The books he had read, his 
 inkstand and pen, his very garments, all seemed to be 
 expecting his return ; and he would never return. 
 
 I did not crave sympathy in my bereavement ; on the 
 contrary, I shunned it, and would not even allow Sacha to 
 mourn with me. I roamed about the fields all day, with 
 my good dog Snap for my sole companion. It seemed 
 to me that he understood me better than any one else. He 
 even seemed to realize our loss. Sometimes he got up and 
 wandered around the room; then (when the hour came 
 at which my father had been wont to return) he went to 
 the door, and scratched and barked; and after waiting 
 awhile in vain, howled wildly and lugubriously. 
 
 I do not know how long this state of stupor would have 
 lasted, if I had not been aroused from it by Sacha's depar- 
 ture. The princess sent for her one morning. She was 
 about to start for Nice, her messenger, Prince Be"kounine,
 
 A CRUEL DISAPPOINTMENT. 115 
 
 said, and he had come for the little girl, in accordance with 
 the agreement made with Fedor Illitch. 
 
 Our grief and consternation were intense. How bitterly 
 I reproached myself now for having neglected my dear 
 little sister, and rejected her loving sympathy in the great 
 bereavement which should have united us even more 
 closely ! It is generally so in life : one seldom shows one's 
 real appreciation of the society of those one loves, or 
 manifests half one's real affection for them; then comes 
 separation or death, and after that, lifelong regret. 
 
 We pleaded in vain for a reprieve. We might yet receive 
 *a letter from M. Ber6zoff. Might we not be allowed at least 
 a few days to accustom ourselves to the idea of parting? 
 But Mme. Lebanoff was inexorable. She could not defer 
 her departure another day, and Sacha bade me a tearful 
 farewell. We did not part without exchanging a solemn 
 promise, however. 
 
 " Sacha, as soon as I am grown, and I have secured a 
 good situation, I shall come for you, wherever you may be. 
 Don't forget it." 
 
 " I shall wait for you, Mitia, I promise you that." 
 
 Then the prince took her away. 
 
 Two hours afterwards, hearing the sound of carriage 
 wheels, I ran to the door, and saw Mme. Lebanoff's 
 big travelling carriage pass, drawn by three superb horses. 
 Sacha's little brown head was leaning out of the window ; 
 she waved me a farewell, and the vehicle disappeared from 
 sight in a thick cloud of dust. 
 
 I re-entered our deserted home with a breaking heart. I 
 passed two days in utter solitude; on the third came a 
 letter from Moscow, addressed to my father. I tore open 
 the envelope, and read the following :
 
 Il6 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 MANSION, THE P^TROVKA, 
 Moscow, Dec. 25, 18 . 
 
 MY DEAR FDOR ILLITCH, You certainly have every reason 
 to believe that I have not forgotten you, and that I shall be 
 only glad to comply with your wishes. I should indeed be the 
 possessor of a bad and ungrateful heart if I failed to remember 
 you. Are you not the man of all others to whom I am most 
 indebted ? Can I ever forget that it was through your aid I was 
 enabled to escape without disgrace from an unfortunate dilemma 
 in which my own imprudence had placed me, and that my elevation 
 to the high position I now hold was due in a great measure to 
 your wise councils ? Besides, did you not save my life when I 
 had that attack of malignant typhoid fever while we were fellow 
 students at the University? But for your care and assiduous 
 nursing, I should certainly have died. Consequently, I shall but 
 partially repay my manifold obligations to you by taking charge 
 of your son, if you are taken from him. Immediately upon 
 receipt of your letter, I made arrangements for entering him 
 at the Saint- Vladimir Gymnasium, the best preparatory school 
 for our famous University. Give yourself no anxiety in regard 
 to your son's future, my dear Fe"dor; I will take charge of 
 that. I am rich and childless, with no near relatives since 
 the mysterious disappearance of my brother Alexis. I do not 
 know whether you ever heard the particulars. Many years have 
 passed since I heard from him, and it is more than probable 
 that he is dead. I certainly have every reason to fear it, 
 for I cannot believe that he would have allowed so long a 
 time to elapse without communicating with me if he were still 
 alive. 
 
 I will not express a hope for your restoration to health, my 
 dear friend, for I feel that it would be a mere waste of words. 
 You are a brave man, and you are prepared to face death; 
 besides, you are the best possible judge of your condition ; but 
 I shall always regret that we did not have an opportunity to meet 
 again, and to exchange one more cordial grasp of the hand, as
 
 A CRUEL DISAPPOINTMENT. ll'j 
 
 in the days of our youth. God bless you in this life and in the 
 life to come. 
 
 N. BRZOFF. 
 
 Enclosed is a Hundred Rouble note for your son. 
 
 So my fate was decided ! But not a single word in re- 
 gard to Sacha ! This oversight seemed incomprehensible 
 to me, and for the first time I rejoiced that she was safe 
 with the princess. Poor child ! sensitive as she was, how 
 could she have borne the thought of presenting herself 
 uninvited at the house of a stranger? 
 
 My preparations for my journey were soon completed. 
 I packed some linen, a few other articles of clothing, and 
 some papers that had belonged to my father, in a small 
 valise ; then I paid a visit to our priest and made him a 
 present of our horse Vodka, and the old titegue. After- 
 wards, I bade everybody good-by, riot even excepting Por- 
 phyre, who seemed utterly unable to comprehend such a 
 marvellous thing as my intended departure. I entrusted 
 Snap to his care, for in spite of the grief it caused me to 
 part with him, I dared not take him to the house of my 
 unknown benefactor without permission ; and the next morn- 
 ing I departed on the wagon of a neighboring farmer for the 
 little town of V , where I took the train for Moscow. 
 
 I had never been out of our village before, and the 
 wonderful sights I beheld filled me with astonishment; 
 but I felt it obligatory upon me to conceal this fact under 
 an air of profound indifference. 
 
 I reached Moscow early on a December morning, with 
 only a few roubles in my pocket, and a heart heavy with 
 grief and loneliness. I little suspected what new trials 
 awaited me there ! 
 
 If I had had more experience I should have so arranged
 
 Il8 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 as not to arrive in this strange city at such an early hour. 
 The recollections of my first entrance into Moscow are 
 far from pleasant. The sun had just risen, but its pale 
 rays seemed unable to force their way through the leaden 
 clouds that obscured the sky. A heavy frost, the fore- 
 runner of a fresh fall of snow, covered everything; and a 
 chill that penetrated to the very marrow of my bones 
 seized me as I stepped from the train which had brought 
 me, my sorrows, my hopes, and my scanty wardrobe, to 
 this new abode. 
 
 I made my way hastily through the crowd of importu- 
 nate coachmen and porters. I did not need their services ; 
 my valise was not heavy, and I counted upon reaching my 
 benefactor's house without making any further inroads 
 upon the small sum of money I had in my pocket. 
 
 The amount was now very small. One imperial, 1 two 
 roubles, and a few kopecks, this was all that remained of 
 the hundred roubles I had received from M. Be're'zofif. 
 
 For years I had longed to behold the splendors of Mos- 
 cow. I had often dreamed of its graceful, richly orna- 
 mented spires, its gilded cupolas, and its marble palaces. 
 How entirely different were the scenes that met my gaze, 
 as I roamed for more than an hour through narrow, 
 crooked streets bordered with shabby log-huts in no way 
 superior to those occupied by the poorest peasants of our 
 village ! Through the rough board-fences that enclosed 
 the tiny yards, I caught occasional glimpses of ragged and - 
 dirty children ; and though a two story dwelling of more 
 respectable appearance was visible here and there, the 
 general aspect of the locality was poverty stricken and 
 squalid in the extreme. 
 
 1 A coin worth about four dollars.
 
 A CRUEL DISAPPOINTMENT. 119 
 
 Turning at last into a broader thoroughfare, I perceived 
 an omnibus that had just stopped to pick up a passenger. 
 I questioned the driver, and finding that he would take 
 me to the centre of the city for the very modest sum of 
 five kopecks, I entered the vehicle, and in a few minutes 
 found myself riding along through broad, clean, and well 
 paved streets. As we whirled around a corner, the Krem- 
 lin, with its massive walls, burst upon my wondering gaze, 
 the Kremlin, with its eighteen towers, its five cathedrals, 
 its convents, its dozen or more churches, its countless 
 gilded cupolas, and gorgeously painted turrets, now 
 slightly powdered with snow. 
 
 A feeling of awe took possession of me. Now, I indeed 
 realized that this was Moscow, the Holy city! Here 
 I might justly feel proud to call myself a Russian. 
 Here, I was in the real sanctuary of my country, in 
 the very heart of my native land, the real capital of our 
 nation ! 
 
 Recollections of its heroic defence in 1812 recurred to 
 my mind. I pictured Napoleon's fierce but futile attacks 
 upon our citadel ; and then the flames of an immense fire 
 that embraced the entire city, mounting heavenward, a 
 fire lighted by that city's valiant defenders ; and in a 
 transport of enthusiastic patriotism, I cried aloud, " Long 
 live Russia ! " 
 
 The words had scarcely escaped me before I was deeply 
 ashamed of them, so great was the astonishment of the 
 people around me, who evidently thought me an escaped 
 lunatic. 
 
 Resolved to be more cautious in the expression of my 
 feelings hereafter, I left the omnibus when it reached the 
 terminus of the route, and after inquiring my way several
 
 120 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 times, I at last reached the door of Nicholas Ivanovitch 
 Berezoff' s dwelling. It was a handsome house, but I was 
 surprised to see that every window was closed, and every 
 curtain down. 
 
 " Nicholas Ivanovitch must be a late riser," I said to 
 myself, as I lifted the massive knocker. 
 
 I rapped; but no one answered the summons, so I 
 knocked again, louder this time, but with no better suc- 
 cess. A third and fourth attempt proved equally futile. 
 At last, a man sitting in the doorway of the adjoining 
 house asked me rather curtly if I was trying to batter the 
 door down. 
 
 " I want to see M. Berezoff," I replied. 
 
 " Nicholas Ivanovitch Berezoff? " 
 
 " Yes, certainly." 
 
 " Don't you know that Nicholas Ivanovitch Bere"zoff was 
 buried yesterday? " 
 
 " Buried yesterday," I repeated mechanically, quite 
 stunned by this unexpected announcement. 
 
 "Yes, buried. It was quite time, as he died on Tuesday," 
 added the man, half sneeringly. 
 
 "Was he sick long? What was the matter with him? " 
 I stammered. 
 
 " He died very suddenly. He must have been taken ill 
 after dinner, the servants said. He went into his study to 
 write, he was always writing, and they found him there 
 the next morning seated at his desk, dead. Apoplexy, 
 probably. He lived too well, I suppose. He was a rich 
 old bachelor, and never did an hour's work in his life. We 
 poor people have nothing of that sort to fear ; that is one 
 comfort. 
 
 " The news seems to astonish you very much," continued
 
 ' ' I WANT TO SEE M. BEREZOFF,' I REPLIED."
 
 A CRUEL DISAPPOINTMENT. 12$ 
 
 the garrulous porter ; " I wonder, though, that you have n't 
 heard of it before. Everybody has been talking about 
 ,it. The strangest thing about the whole affair, though, is 
 that he died while he was making his will, or at least 
 trying to." 
 
 "What do you mean?" I asked wonderingly. 
 
 " Why, as I told you before, he died while he was at his 
 desk writing, and what he was writing at the time proved 
 to be his will. It began in the usual way, they say ; then 
 came something like this, I believe : ' In the fear of being 
 stricken down by death, etc., I desire to make my will, 
 and so I leave this to this one, and that to that one ; and 
 lastly, in default of natural heirs, I hereby designate as the 
 heir to all the rest of my property, the son of my dearest 
 friend, young Dmitri '' 
 
 " Dmitri ? " I exclaimed involuntarily; " Dmitri what? " 
 
 " That was all. Death overtook him in the middle of 
 the name, and no one will ever know who this young 
 Dmitri was." 
 
 " But I know ! " I thought ; " I know ! " 
 
 " If you take such an interest in the affair, why don't 
 you buy a newspaper?" continued the porter. "In the 
 ' Muscovite Chronicle ' you '11 find a full account of it in 
 black and white." 
 
 I thanked the man, and ran off to purchase the paper he 
 had mentioned. This journal confirmed the truth of his 
 story. My father's old friend was dead, and his house was 
 closed. I had his letter in my pocket, and I read it over 
 again. It had been written on the very day of his death, 
 and probably only a short time before he began the will by 
 which he intended to bequeath the bulk of his fortune to 
 me, for his letter proved beyond a doubt that I was the
 
 124 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 young Dmitri referred to. Though greatly depressed by 
 the sad news, it was not the loss of fortune that grieved 
 me most. Reared as I had been, I attached very little 
 value to money; and my chief regret was that this old 
 friend of my father a man who could have talked to me 
 of my beloved parent, and told me about his youth, and 
 who seemed to be the only connecting link between my 
 present desolation and my past happiness should have 
 been removed from earth. 
 
 I sat a long time on a bench in the neighboring park, 
 reading and re-reading the newspaper and M. Bere'zoff's 
 letter alternately. What would become of me now? Un- 
 practical as I was, this question could not fail to present 
 itself to my mind. What would become of me in this 
 strange city, without relatives, money, or friends? 
 
 I had eaten nothing that morning, and after a while my 
 youthful stomach became clamorous for food. It takes a 
 good deal to deprive a fourteen-year-old boy of his appe- 
 tite ; so I entered the first bake-shop I came to, and pur- 
 chased a loaf of bread. 
 
 Seating myself on a huge pile of snow on the river-bank 
 almost opposite the Kremlin, I ate my frugal meal. 
 
 This Moscow bread was certainly much better than that 
 of my native village, for I had bought the white loaf which 
 Sacha and I had always considered such a delicacy; but 
 she was not here to share it, fortunately for her ! It was 
 the bread of exile, and it seemed very bitter to me. 
 
 As I ate, I watched some men who were working on the 
 river-bank. They were very poorly clad, but they did not 
 seem at all troubled by their humble condition. On the 
 contrary, several of them were singing, and their not un- 
 musical voices rang out cheerfully on the morning air.
 
 A CRUEL DISAPPOINTMENT. 12$ 
 
 " There are some men who are no better off than I am," 
 I said to myself. " They are obliged to work for their 
 living, and yet they seem cheerful and even contented with 
 their lot. I have lost all who were dear to me, it is true, 
 and my loneliness saddens and discourages me ; but ought 
 I to yield to this despondency? Did I not promise my 
 dear father to be an honor to the name he bequeathed to 
 me? I am an orphan, and poor, but I am well and strong, 
 and no milksop ! Shall I give up in despair like a girl ? 
 No, that would be cowardly ! " 
 
 And I sprang to my feet, resolved to triumph over fate. 
 
 One hope remained. Nicholas Berezoff had said in his 
 letter that he had entered me as a pupil in Saint- Vladimir 
 College. Might there not still be a chance of my 
 admission there, in spite of my benefactor's death? I 
 resolved to satisfy myself on this point. 
 
 A policeman told me how to find my way to the college, 
 which was in the heart of the city, about twenty minutes' 
 walk from the Berezoff mansion. 
 
 As I approached it, I was greatly impressed by the im- 
 posing appearance of the immense granite structure, with 
 its long colonnade and lofty pillars. Over the main door- 
 way was a has relief depicting Saint Vladimir in royal 
 robes, with a crown upon his head, surrounded with youths 
 holding books and philosophical apparatus of divers kinds. 
 Below it was this inscription in Latin : " Learning makes 
 all men equal;" and above, in gold letters, "Saint- 
 Vladimir Gymnasium." 
 
 As I paused in front of the building, one of the doors 
 opened, and a crowd of young men and boys came out. 
 It was noon, and the morning recitations had ended. 
 
 I gazed with intense curiosity at these students, my
 
 126 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 future comrades, at least I hoped so, as they filed out 
 of the building and dispersed in different directions. They 
 all wore red, blue, or white caps, and I judged that the 
 color of the cap indicated the class to which its wearer 
 belonged, a supposition that was entirely correct, as I 
 soon learned. Most of them were very neatly dressed ; 
 some few, however, were plainly, even shabbily clad. All 
 carried books under their arms. 
 
 The ponderous door closed again, and I remained 
 standing in the same spot, undecided what course to 
 pursue. Should I venture to present myself before the 
 president? Had I the slightest chance of admission? I 
 must of course make the attempt ; but first of all, I had 
 better freshen myself up a little, if I wished to make a 
 favorable impression. The dust of travel was still thick 
 upon me, and my shoes were covered with mud. The 
 cleanly habits I had learned from my father, who was 
 extremely fastidious in all such matters, made me un- 
 willing to appear before any one in such a plight, and the 
 best thing for me to do was to find some modest inn where 
 I could get a room and change my clothing. 
 
 In a narrow side street, not far from the college, I dis- 
 covered a small green house that I thought would suit me, 
 as the sign-board bearing the words, " The White Bear," 
 which creaked dismally in front of it, declared it to be a 
 place of public entertainment. On entering I found myself 
 in a low, dingy room, redolent with the fumes of liquor and 
 poor tobacco. For an instant I felt strongly inclined to 
 beat a hasty retreat ; but as the accommodations were so 
 poor the rates must be correspondingly low, and cheapness 
 was the chief consideration with me now. 
 
 An extremely unprepossessing-looking old woman was
 
 A CRUEL DISAPPOINTMENT. I2/ 
 
 sitting by the window, knitting, when I entered, and several 
 men were sprawled out, asleep, in front of the stove. 
 
 " I would like a room. Have you any vacant? " I asked. 
 
 "A room, or a bed?" inquired my hostess, glancing 
 sharply at me out of the corner of her eye. 
 
 "A bed?" I repeated, not understanding her in the 
 least. 
 
 " Yes, a bed in a room with seven, or eight others, or a 
 room to yourself? " 
 
 " Oh, a room to myself, of course," I exclaimed, 
 glancing at her disreputable looking guests. 
 
 " But will you pay for it? " 
 
 " Of course," I replied, displaying my five-rouble gold 
 piece. 
 
 " Very well ; come this way, little father." 
 
 I followed her up a dark and narrow staircase to a small 
 room directly under the roof. The only articles of furni- 
 ture in it were a dilapidated bed and a rickety chair. 
 
 It was a miserable hole ; but it suited me, or rather my 
 purse, all the better for that. 
 
 " Will this do, little father? " asked the old woman. 
 
 " If you will sweep and dust it, and bring me a bucket 
 of fresh water immediately." 
 
 " It 's a nice, clean room," whined the old woman. 
 " You won't find a roach in it." 
 
 " I should think not. It 's so cold that even a warmly 
 clad Christian can hardly keep alive here. It is n't very- 
 likely that a roach would stay any longer than it could 
 help," I replied good naturedly. In the mean time, my 
 hostess had found a broom, or rather the remains of one, 
 for there was not much more than the handle of it left, 
 and she now proceeded to sweep off the cobwebs and dirt
 
 128 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 that covered the tiny window. Soon afterwards, she 
 brought up a big stone pitcher full of water, and I pro- 
 ceeded to take a bath. 
 
 How many times I have felt grateful to my father for 
 accustoming me from infancy to the cold baths which 
 are so healthful and invigorating, alike to mind and 
 body. 
 
 Afterwards, when I found myself once more arrayed in 
 clean linen, neatly brushed clothes, and brightly polished 
 shoes, I felt like another boy; and it was with a much 
 lighter heart that I descended the stairway of the White 
 Bear. 
 
 I had taken the precaution to lock the door of my room 
 and put the key in my pocket, for I felt sure that the old 
 woman would examine my belongings during my absence, 
 if it was in her power to do it. 
 
 "Won't you have something to eat now?" she asked, 
 seeing that I was about to go out. 
 
 " No, not until evening." 
 
 " You Ve left your valise, so you '11 be sure to come 
 back, I suppose, little father?" 
 
 " You need have no anxiety about that," I replied, con- 
 gratulating myself upon the precaution I had taken. 
 
 And a few minutes afterwards, I again found myself 
 standing in front of Saint-Vladimir College.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 + 
 
 HOMELESS AND FRIENDLESS IN A STRANGE CITY. 
 
 HAVING become a little accustomed to the edifice, it 
 seemed less imposing when I beheld it a second 
 time, and I walked boldly up to the north door and rang 
 the bell. 
 
 A man in uniform, with brass buttons bearing the college 
 device, promptly appeared. 
 
 "I would like to see the superintendent," I said 
 deferentially. 
 
 " Right corridor, stairway to the left, second story, first 
 door," was the janitor's rather surly reply. 
 
 I obeyed his instructions ; and soon found myself in the 
 presence of a clerk, who immediately motioned me to a 
 second clerk, who in turn handed me over to a third 
 functionary, a very elegant young gentleman, who seemed 
 to be chiefly engrossed in keeping a glass in his right eye, 
 but who finally condescended to ask my name. 
 
 " Dmitri Fedorovitch T6rentieff, the pupil entered by 
 Nicholas Ivanovitch Berezoff," I answered. 
 
 The young man's only response was a frightful grimace, 
 the real object of which was the retention of the refractory 
 eyeglass in its proper place ; then he disappeared behind 
 a baize-covered door. 
 
 9
 
 130 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 " Wait a moment, Dmitri Fedorovitch. The superin- 
 tendent will soon be at liberty," he said to me, on his return 
 a few minutes afterward. 
 
 My heart throbbed wildly as I seated myself upon a 
 cushioned bench. What would the president's decision 
 be? Was it at all likely that he would admit into the in- 
 stitution a homeless, friendless, penniless boy, a stranger 
 in the city? But if he refused, what would become 
 of me? 
 
 I was startled by the sharp peal of an electric bell 
 near me. 
 
 " Pass in, Dmitri Fedorovitch," said the young man, 
 who was now engaged in admiring himself in a small 
 pocket-mirror; "the president is waiting for you." 
 
 I pushed open the baize-door, and found myself in a 
 large, bare, and cheerless room. An immense desk cov- 
 ered with books, pamphlets, and paper formed a sort of 
 oasis in the middle of this desert ; and almost hidden from 
 sight behind the huge piles of books, sat a small, bald- 
 headed, elderly gentleman. On hearing me enter, he raised 
 his head, disclosing to view a kindly, honest, smoothly 
 shaven face, and took a quick look at me over the tops of 
 his gold-bowed spectacles ; but I had barely time to catch 
 a glimpse of his features before he resumed his writing, so 
 rapid was his glance. 
 
 I stood there, the picture of embarrassment. Ought 
 I to address him, seat myself, be silent, or remain stand- 
 ing? It seemed to me that the best thing for me to do 
 was to wait until the president saw fit to speak to me, 
 and I did so. 
 
 He seemed to have forgotten my presence, and his pen 
 flew swiftly over the paper as he wrote on and on. The
 
 HOMELESS AMD FRIENDLESS IN A STRANGE CITY. 131 
 
 ticking of the clock that hung on the wall between a ther- 
 mometer and barometer, was the only sound that broke 
 the stillness ; the minute hand had nearly completed its 
 round, and still I stood there motionless, scarcely daring 
 to breathe, perched like a stork first upon one foot, then 
 upon the other, and twirling my cap in my hands. 
 
 Suddenly I felt an ominous tickling in my nostrils, 
 probably the result of my long revery on the snowbank 
 by the river-side, and before I could repress it, a loud 
 " atchi ! " resounded through the room ; then another, 
 and another, and another. It seemed to me that I should 
 never stop. Deeply mortified, I glanced at the superin- 
 tendent, and found that he was surveying me over the tops 
 of his spectacles with an air of profound astonishment. 
 
 " What are you doing here? What is your name? " he 
 asked abruptly. 
 
 I was so unprepared for this question that I could make 
 no coherent response. 
 
 " Eh, what? What do you say ? " 
 
 "But, sir " 
 
 i 
 
 " Ivan Alexandrovitch Perevsky is my name." 
 
 " I have come, Ivan Alexandrovitch, to ask you to 
 kindly admit me as a pupil," I faltered, summoning up all 
 my courage. 
 
 "Where is your father? Why didn't he come with 
 you?" 
 
 " I have lost my father." 
 
 " Your mother, then?" 
 
 " She is dead." 
 
 "Your guardian?" 
 
 " I have none." 
 
 " Then your uncle or aunt, or your grandparents, or
 
 132 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 somebody? " said the superintendent, a little impatiently, 
 glancing at his papers as if he longed to return to them 
 again ; and yet his manner was really so kind in spite of its 
 brusqueness, that I conceived a real affection for him then 
 and there. 
 
 " I have no relatives. There is no one who takes any 
 interest in me," I said in reply to his last question. 
 
 The president looked at me searchingly for a moment. 
 
 " Do you suppose that I receive pupils without any 
 references ? " he asked, at last. 
 
 " My name was sent in." 
 
 "By whom?" 
 
 " By Nicholas Ivanovitch Bere"zoff, a friend of my 
 father." 
 
 " Why did n't you say so before? Your name? " 
 
 " Dmitri Fe"dorovitch Terentieff." 
 
 The president pressed the knob of an electric bell. A 
 gentleman about fifty years old, very tall and imposing in 
 appearance, entered immediately. It was M. Bare" vine, the 
 assistant superintendent, as I learned shortly afterwards. 
 
 " Paul Petrovitch, here is a new pupil, Dmitri Fedoro- 
 vitch T6rentieff, entered by Nicholas Ivanovitch Bere'zoff. 
 Will you have the goodness to see if everything is all right? " 
 
 And the president, without another word, resumed his 
 writing, while I followed Paul P6trovitch into an adjoining 
 room. 
 
 There he consulted an official register and read aloud 
 the following entry : - 
 
 " Dmitri Fedorovitch Terentieff, entered by Nicholas Ivanovitch 
 Be"rezoff, a resident of Moscow, born in Sitovka, aged fourteen 
 years. Tuition paid one year in advance."
 
 HOMELESS AND FRIENDLESS IN A STRANGE CITY. 133 
 
 The assistant superintendent asked me no questions, 
 and I thought it useless to tell him that I was entirely 
 without resources. It was an immense relief to find that 
 my tuition was paid for one year in advance. Before that 
 period had elapsed, I must devise some means for the 
 continuance of my studies. 
 
 " Your papers are all right," remarked Paul Petrovitch, 
 " and from this time you may consider yourself one of the 
 pupils of the Saint-Vladimir Gymnasium." 
 
 I asked him when I should begin my studies. 
 
 " Immediately," was the reply. " One of the recitations 
 of your class will begin in a few minutes, and you would 
 better attend it. There are three classes in the college: 
 the third, second, and first classes, each of which is divided 
 into two sections. The prescribed course of study for each 
 class lasts two years. The classification is as follows : 
 
 Third Class, 2d section, age of pupils 12 to 13 years. 
 
 " " ist " " " 13 to 14 " 
 
 Second " 2d " " " 14 to 15 " 
 
 " ist " " " 15 to 16 " 
 
 First " 2d " " " 1 6 to 17 " 
 
 " " ist " " " 17 to 18 " 
 
 " Your age places you in the first section of the Third 
 Class. You must try to keep there. Your section has a 
 French theme and an exercise for translation this after- 
 noon, and you will have a chance to see how you stand in 
 this study, which holds a very important place in our 
 curriculum." 
 
 Paul P6trovitch then took me to the class-room reserved 
 for the first section of the Third Class, stopping on the way 
 at the office of the bursar, who supplied me with pencils,
 
 134 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 pens, and note-books, as well as a program of the course 
 of study. I examined this last in the brief interval before 
 the commencement of the recitation, and was appalled at 
 the number of studies I was expected to pursue before 
 that most terrible of ordeals, the final examination ! 
 Russian, Latin, Greek, French, German, literature, religion, 
 sacred history, the history of Russia, natural history, phy- 
 sics, chemistry, mathematics, the differential and integral 
 calculus, all these subjects danced about before my eyes 
 in the wildest confusion. Should I ever succeed in mas- 
 tering them? Then I turned the leaf to see the list of 
 classical authors I should be obliged to read : Tacitus, 
 Virgil, Herodotus, Homer, Sophocles, Montaigne, Cor- 
 neille, Racine, Moliere, Voltaire, Goethe, Herder, Schiller, 
 how formidable they appeared, grouped within the 
 horizon of a five years' course of study ! 
 
 The sharp tap of a ruler upon the master's desk drew 
 my attention from future trials to those of the present 
 time. 
 
 This was no dream. I was really a student of Saint- 
 Vladimir College. I was sitting in a spacious class-room, 
 lighted by a long mullioned window ; and surrounding me 
 on every side I saw thirty-five or forty boys of my own 
 age, who had hung their red caps on hooks ranged along 
 the wall for that purpose. 
 
 So red was the Third Class color, as blue was that of 
 the Second Class, and white that of the First Class. 
 
 In spite of my efforts to give my undivided attention to 
 the professor, one question would persist in forcing itself 
 upon my mind. How was I to procure the red cap which 
 seemed to be an essential? Was this head covering so 
 exorbitant in price as to be entirely beyond my reach?
 
 HOMELESS AND FRIENDLESS IN A STRANGE CITY. 135 
 
 Should I be any less a student of Saint- Vladimir if I was 
 unable to purchase this article of dress? During my 
 wanderings that morning, I had seen several large hat 
 stores on such fashionable thoroughfares as the P6trovka, 
 the Loubjanka, and Gasetnyi. Were the caps purchased 
 there or at the college ? A sudden and profound silence put 
 an abrupt end to my reflections upon this important subject. 
 
 " Young gentlemen," began the professor in French, 
 " I will now give you a passage for translation." 
 
 " How lucky it is for me that I have French first ! " I 
 said to myself. " It is almost the only modern language 
 I know anything about." 
 
 How glad I felt now that my father had insisted upon 
 the daily use of this refined and euphonious language in 
 our little household ! And what a sigh of relief I gave, 
 as I thought of the French fables, as amusing as those of 
 our own Yvan Krilof, 1 that Sacha and I had been accus- 
 tomed to recite to my father every evening ! The hope 
 of covering myself with glory took possession of me as I 
 began to write the required translation. It proved to be 
 a page from Moliere that the professor had chosen, the 
 speech of Master Jacques in the " Miser," beginning, 
 
 " Monsieur, puisque vous le voulez, je vous dirai franchement 
 qu'on se moque partout de vous, qu'on nous jette de tous cotes 
 cents brocards, etc." 
 
 And I had fancied myself proficient in French! It 
 did not take me two minutes to discover that this trans- 
 lation was going to be no easy matter. I was obliged to 
 make it without a dictionary of any kind, and what did 
 such expressions as brocards, tisine, la fable, and la riste, 
 
 a .The Russian La Fontaine.
 
 136 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 ladre, and mlaine mean? I had never heard these words 
 in ordinary conversation, and I had not the faintest idea 
 of their meaning; and though there were many phrases 
 that I did understand tolerably well, I found it impossible 
 to translate them in any but the most awkward and 
 blundering manner. 
 
 I hoped to appear to a little better advantage in the 
 theme. We had a selection from Gogol's " Sorcerer " to 
 put into French, and when I read my version it seemed 
 quite satisfactory. 
 
 After the dictation was ended, a profound silence reigned 
 in the class-room until four o'clock, the stillness being 
 broken only by the scratching of pens and an occasional 
 sigh of discouragement when one of the students found his 
 task too much for him. 
 
 M. Lapenelle, the professor of French, was, as I subse- 
 quently learned, a Parisian who had resided in Moscow 
 nearly thirty years, and who had initiated hundreds of 
 young Russians into the mysteries of his mother-tongue. 
 
 Unconsciously relapsing into that state of abstraction 
 that is my besetting sin, I had sat for some time nibbling 
 the end of my penholder, and absently gazing at the tight- 
 fitting surtout and still youthful face of our instructor, 
 when he glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall, and 
 said, 
 
 " You have only five minutes more, young gentlemen." 
 
 And my theme was still uncopied, scarcely reread, in 
 fact ! I was obliged to hand in my scrawl just as it was, 
 erasures, blunders, and all ; and I cast an envious glance at 
 my next neighbor, who had just completed an irreproach- 
 able copy with a magnificent flourish- enclosing the sig- 
 nature, Serge A. Kratkine.
 
 HOMELESS AND FRIENDLESS IN A STRANGE CITY. 137 
 
 This elaborate signature gave me an exalted idea of my 
 neighbor's talent, and I blushed deeply when M. Lap- 
 enelle having left the room Kratkine addressed me with 
 a rather condescending air as he neatly arranged his note- 
 books in a morocco portfolio. 
 
 " You are a new scholar, are you not? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " What is your name? " 
 
 I told him ; whereupon he informed me that his father, 
 Arcade Nicolaievitch, bore the title of Councillor; that is 
 to say, he belonged to the sixth grade of nobility. Seeing 
 that this announcement made no impression on me, the 
 fact is, I had never heard anything about these different 
 grades in Sitovka, my father having entirely neglected to 
 instruct me in regard to the tsin, or civil nobility, of our 
 country, Serge was kind enough to explain the laws that 
 govern it. I thus learned that any Russian may elevate 
 himself to the rank of a nobleman by his own exertions ; 
 in fact, that it was the easiest thing in the world, as one was 
 merely obliged to pass a certain number of examinations 
 to accomplish it. 
 
 " Ordeals, I suppose you mean," I replied, thinking of 
 those to which the candidates for knighthood had been 
 subjected in mediaeval times. 
 
 " No ; examinations, I tell you. There is my father, for 
 instance. True, he was not a moujik; but since the eman- 
 cipation of the serf even a moujik may elevate himself to 
 the rank of a nobleman. My father was the son of the 
 sacristan of the church of Wassili Blaujeuni. You know 
 the church. It is near the Kremlin." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Well, he is a nobleman now, and to make himself one,
 
 138 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 he has only been obliged to serve the State in a civil capa- 
 city, and pass the stipulated examinations." 
 
 " Your father has passed six examinations ! " I cried, 
 appalled at the thought of the many trying ordeals before 
 me if I, too, desired to rise in the world. 
 
 " Twice that number, counting those at the college and 
 University," replied my new friend ; " and he has n't fin- 
 ished with them yet, for he has only reached the sixth 
 grade. The title does not become hereditary until one 
 reaches the eighth grade ; and as my father, who possesses 
 no private fortune, wishes me to profit by what he has 
 achieved, he will go on with the examinations; but if 
 from any cause he should be obliged to stop before he 
 has reached the eighth grade, I shall be under the neces- 
 sity of beginning again from the very beginning." 
 
 The thought of such marvellous perseverance astonished 
 me. Should I, too, be obliged to pass a dozen or more 
 examinations when I shuddered at the mere mention of 
 the one that awaited me on leaving college? 
 
 We had left the class-room, and as Serge put on his cap 
 in the corridor he remarked, 
 
 " You have n't your cap yet, I see. Had n't you better 
 go and get it now?" 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " At the bursar's office. I '11 show you the way." 
 
 Deeply grateful to my new friend, I followed him, 
 though not without some misgivings as to the probable 
 cost of the famous cap. 
 
 In the bursar's office I found myself face to face with the 
 same clerk who had furnished me with my exercise-books. 
 
 " You have come for your cap, I suppose," he remarked. 
 " Try some on, and take any one that fits you."
 
 V 
 
 HOMELESS AND FRIENDLESS IN A STRANGE CITY. 139 
 
 I soon made my selection ; then I ventured, timidly, 
 
 " Is there anything what is there to pay, sir? " 
 
 "Nothing. The gentleman who entered you paid for 
 everything in advance. Your books will be given to you 
 to-morrow. They, too, are paid for." 
 
 I left the room with a much lighter heart, secretly 
 heaping blessings upon the head of good Nicholas 
 Berezoff. 
 
 Serge was waiting for me at the door. 
 
 " Ah, ha ! you are really one of us now ! " he exclaimed, 
 seeing me reappear. " There is nothing to prevent you 
 from availing yourself of all our privileges now." 
 
 " What privileges? " 
 
 " Oh, we have a good many, I assure you. In the first 
 place, we pay only one-fourth of the regular rates at the 
 theatre when we wear our caps. Then, the merchants all 
 make a reduction when they sell to us, and we are admitted 
 free to all the galleries and museums." 
 
 We had left the building, and as we discovered that we 
 were living in the same part of the town, we continued to 
 walk along together. 
 
 Serge Arcadievitch, who was certainly very communica- 
 tive, told me a great deal about himself, his family, his 
 tastes, and his opinions in regard to matters and things in 
 general. It was easy to see that he was an exceedingly 
 sensible and practical fellow, whose ideas were as well 
 regulated and orderly as the lines I had seen traced in his 
 exercise-book. Roving fancies and idle dreams were un- 
 known to him; good sense, frankness, and integrity were 
 evidently his chief characteristics. I took a great liking to 
 him at once, and sincerely congratulated myself upon 
 having had him for a neighbor.
 
 140 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 From him, too, I learned many of the rules and regula- 
 tions that were to govern my new life. " Recitations be- 
 gan," he said, " at seven o'clock in summer and eight in 
 winter. The morning session closed at eleven o'clock in 
 summer and twelve in winter. During the morning session 
 there was a recreation period of half an hour, when stu- 
 dents could eat the lunch they brought in the morning, if 
 they chose. At noon, they all went home to dinner, 
 though some of the boys, whose parents resided in the 
 suburbs or at too great a distance in the city, took their 
 meals at some of the boarding-houses kept especially 
 for students." 
 
 " Is the board very dear? " I inquired. 
 
 " It varies. Down at the corner of the street, where you 
 see that blue sign, you can get a dinner or supper for 
 fifteen or twenty kopecks, at least so Grichine Y6gov 
 tells me." 
 
 " I ask because I am far from rich, and must arrange to 
 take my meals at some cheap place. Is it there that your 
 friend Y^gov boards ? " 
 
 " Yes, when he has the money, poor fellow ! That is not 
 the case every day, however." 
 
 " And when he has no money what does he do ? " I 
 asked, with some very natural curiosity, as Grichine Yegov's 
 situation so thoroughly resembled mine. 
 
 " Upon my word, I never asked him ; but I Ve heard the 
 boys say that he has been seen to slip up to the bread- 
 basket more than once at recess." 
 
 " And what is the bread-basket, pray?" 
 
 " It hangs on the wall in the courtyard. When we have 
 finished eating, we put any scraps of food we may have left 
 into this basket. Any student who throws food on the
 
 HOMELESS AND FRIENDLESS IN A STRANGE CITY. 141 
 
 ground is punished with an extra lesson. Every one is 
 obliged to put the remains of his lunch in the basket, and 
 the contents are given to the poor. It is said that Grichine 
 often hangs around the basket in order to snatch out a 
 piece of bread when no one is looking. It is true, perhaps ; 
 but I always feel ashamed of myself when I laugh about it. 
 It is not his fault that he is poor." 
 
 " Certainly not," I responded, much more warmly than I 
 might have done if I myself had been rolling in gold, as 
 the saying is. 
 
 By this time we had reached the point where our paths 
 diverged, so, after exchanging a cordial shake of the hand 
 with my new friend, I directed my steps toward my 
 dreary lodgings. 
 
 Still greatly fatigued from my long journey, as well as 
 from the many exciting events of the long day, I intended 
 to go straight to bed without any supper except the 
 tiny loaf of bread I purchased before entering the house ; 
 but the old woman waylaid me as I passed. 
 
 " Have some supper, little father, have some supper," 
 she exclaimed. " See the nice tchi 1 and hot racha* I Ve 
 got for you." 
 
 I wanted to refuse, though solely from motives of 
 economy, for I was very hungry, and longed for a plate of 
 the soup that was smoking on the table ; but pride forbade 
 in the presence of the moujiks seated there. I feared if I 
 refused to dine that they would think it was for want of 
 money, which would have been the plain truth; and 
 actuated by this laudable reason, I took my seat among 
 them. 
 
 I soon despatched the soup, though it consisted princi- 
 
 1 Cabbage soup. 2 Buckwheat porridge.
 
 142 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 pally of greasy water ; but the porridge proved too much 
 for me in spite of my long fast, it reminded me too forci- 
 bly of a lukewarm poultice, and I soon arose to leave 
 the table. 
 
 " Wait, you must be thirsty, too. Stop and have a glass 
 of kvass." 1 
 
 " I don't wish any, thank you." I had never taken a 
 glass of liquor in my life, and I had no desire to do so 
 now; but the men who were at the table began to laugh 
 boisterously. 
 
 " This fine little gentleman must be afraid of burning his 
 throat," sneered one. 
 
 " I believe it's a girl in disguise," remarked another. 
 
 " No, he 's going to dine with the czar this evening, so 
 he's saving up for it." 
 
 Blushing deeply with rage and mortification, I took the 
 dirty glass the old woman was holding out, and swallowed 
 the vile stuff at a single draught, though it seemed to set 
 my throat on fire. 
 
 " Ah, ha ! look at the face he makes ! " 
 
 " Poor little thing, we '11 have to give him his bottle. 
 Where is his nurse?" asked one moujik. 
 
 Exasperated beyond endurance by these taunts, I re- 
 solved to show these men that I was no child ; so pound- 
 ing upon the table with my fist, I called out to the old 
 woman, 
 
 " This brandy is splendid. Give me another glass ! " 
 
 A burst of applause greeted this absurd act of bravado, 
 and thus encouraged, I resolved to persist in the noble 
 course I had seen fit to adopt; so I emptied the second 
 
 1 Brandy.
 
 DMITRI S EXPERIENCE AT HIS LODGING-HOUSE.
 
 HOMELESS AND FRIENDLESS IN A STRANGE CITY. 145 
 
 glass, though it made the tears rise to my eyes, and it was 
 in a husky voice that I cried, 
 
 " Another glass, mother ; and one for each of these 
 gentlemen, please. I '11 pay the bill. To your good 
 health, my " 
 
 But I could not finish the sentence. My knees gave 
 way under me, my head swam wildly. The suffocating 
 atmosphere of the room, the strong odor of tobacco 
 smoke, the nauseating taste of the vile food I had just 
 eaten, the fumes of alcohol which were fast mounting to my 
 brain, the intense shame created by my folly, all com- 
 bined to make me unspeakably wretched and ill. 
 
 " Air, air, I must have air ! " I said to myself; and 
 spilling the entire contents of my third glass on the table 
 as I rose with the others, I started for the staircase leading 
 to my garret. 
 
 I must have described several zig-zags during the short 
 journey, for I lurched against a small table loaded with 
 dishes ; and a pile of plates fell to the floor with a crash 
 amid the uproarious laughter of the spectators, whose 
 mirth was excited to the highest pitch by this last exploit 
 on my part. 
 
 Intoxicated with rage but why do I use that expres- 
 sion? Was I not, alas! intoxicated before, and not with 
 rage alone ? I aimed a blow at my tormentors ; but my 
 arm, which was usually so strong and agile, seemed to be 
 made of lead, and dropped heavily at my side. I stag- 
 gered violently, and would have fallen if I had not clutched 
 at the wall for support. 
 
 The shouts of laughter grew even more boisterous. 
 Enraged, humiliated, sick at heart, I finally succeeded 
 in climbing the stairs and reaching my room, where 
 
 10
 
 146 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 I threw myself upon the bed without removing my 
 clothes. 
 
 Oh, if my father had seen me at that moment ! Tears 
 of shame and remorse streamed down upon my miserable 
 pillow at the thought of my disgrace; but fortunately I 
 soon fell asleep.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 NEW FACES. 
 
 AFTER several hours of heavy slumber, I woke with 
 wildly throbbing temples, head on fire, and throat 
 parched with thirst. I felt weak and miserable in mind, 
 as well as body ; but the hardest thing of all to bear was 
 my intense shame at having behaved myself in such a 
 disgraceful manner. I the son of Fedor Te" rentieff, who 
 had reared me with such care and solicitude, and who had 
 been a living example of sobriety, moderation, and dignity 
 in every act of his life I had been intoxicated, I had 
 voluntarily obscured in my soul the divine spark of reason 
 which alone distinguishes us from the brutes ! 
 
 Oh, how unspeakably wretched I was ! I almost wished 
 that the earth would open and swallow me up. It seemed 
 to me that my disgraceful conduct had left its impress on 
 my face, and that every one would see it on the morrow. 
 As I reviewed each detail of this most unfortunate affair, I 
 saw that I had been guilty of that contemptible spirit of 
 bravado which I so bitterly despised in others. 
 
 I tossed about, unable to sleep, and at last, toward 
 morning, after having spent the most wretched night of 
 my life for never before had I been kept awake by the 
 stings of conscience I made a solemn vow which helped 
 to assuage my regret.
 
 148 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 As I had allowed myself to be surprised and worsted by 
 an enemy so despicable as intemperance, I would never 
 touch a drop of ardent spirits again ! This vow I have 
 faithfully kept. Never again shall my father's son have to 
 blush for so degrading himself. 
 
 Had I known at the time the ingredients employed in 
 the manufacture of the liquors sold in our low taverns and 
 saloons, that knowledge would have more than sufficed to 
 deter me from tasting them. Russian brandy is of a very 
 inferior quality at best. The distillers add a great deal 
 of water to it to increase their profits ; but far from 
 rendering it less dangerous in its effect, they impart an 
 unnatural strength to it by means of a mixture of the most 
 heterogeneous articles, such as pepper, copperas, tobacco 
 leaves, nitric acid, and even vitriol. And I had swallowed 
 this vile compound out of pure bravado, or rather from a 
 cowardly fear of the taunts of a few disreputable loafers ! 
 I blush now when I think of it. 
 
 When morning came I got up, though not without con- 
 siderable difficulty, for I felt very weak, and my head still 
 ached frightfully; but I plunged my head into ice-cold 
 water again and again, and this relieved the pain in a 
 measure. So after my bath, I went downstairs feeling 
 better mentally as well as physically. 
 
 My hostess was already moving about in the dingy 
 room below, which was still full of tobacco smoke, while 
 the men sleeping around the stove presented a repulsive 
 spectacle of intoxication and brutishness. 
 
 " Well, little father, may I offer you a drop of kvass this 
 morning?" asked the old hag, with a smile that disclosed 
 her toothless gums in a most ghastly way. 
 
 Though I blushed a little at the allusion, I responded 
 in my most dignified manner,
 
 NEW FACES. 149 
 
 " I want nothing, thank you. Will you have the good- 
 ness to make out my bill ? I intend to leave at noon." 
 
 And without stopping to listen to her eager protests, I 
 hastened to the Gymnasium. 
 
 The clock was striking eight when I reached the door, 
 where I found Serge Kratkine waiting for me. 
 
 " I thought you were not coming," he remarked. " They 
 are great sticklers for punctuality here. A student who is 
 tardy three times in one term is expelled. I advise you to 
 come early. It is the only way one can be sure of being 
 on time." 
 
 " Yes, it is very hard to be exactly on time, neither 
 too early nor too late," I replied. 
 
 "And for that very reason, instead of saying to myself, 
 4 Recitations begin at eight o'clock,' I say, ' Recitations 
 begin at ten minutes of eight; ' and in that way I always 
 manage to be on hand." 
 
 I could see the importance of my new friend's warning, 
 for the doorkeeper was already at his post, impatiently 
 jingling his keys. I soon learned that he showed tardy 
 students no mercy ; it was even said that he did not hesi- 
 tate to set the hands of the college clock a few minutes 
 ahead in order that he might have the pleasure of shutting 
 the door in the faces of unfortunate youths who deluded 
 themselves with the idea that they had plenty of time, 
 and consequently failed to put in an appearance until the 
 very last minute. 
 
 I learned, too, that Gavruchka for that was the jani- 
 tor's name had a very irritable disposition, and that 
 there had been open war between him and the boys from 
 time immemorial. The small children of the neighbor- 
 hood regarded him as a positive ogre, and the older
 
 150 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 gamins were continually playing jokes on him, thus 
 keeping him in a furious passion. One of their favorite 
 tricks consisted in ringing his bell, and then hiding; and 
 when the janitor came out and saw no one, he invariably 
 re-entered the lodge in a towering rage, to the intense 
 delight of the culprits. They wrote, too, all sorts of in- 
 sulting epithets on the wall, such as, " Gavruchka, the mad 
 man ; Gavruchka, the old tippler ; Gavruchka, the old beer 
 barrel," etc. ; and one day they even went so far as to 
 tie a live cat to the bell-knob. 
 
 Consequently, he held all boys, great and small, in holy 
 horror ; and nothing pleased him better than to detect one 
 of them in a fault. He was a tall and exceedingly cor- 
 pulent man, with a surly face of a suspiciously florid hue. 
 He had served in the Crimean war, and it was currently 
 reported^ that he had gobbled up a Frenchman and an 
 Englishman at a single mouthful at Sebastopol, and that 
 it was their brass buttons that had spoiled his digestion, 
 and at the same time soured his disposition. 
 
 We entered the class-room, where all the pupils de- 
 posited their books on their desks while awaiting the en- 
 trance of the professor. Most of the students were talking 
 together in subdued tones. There was no surveillance of 
 any kind. 
 
 "Why was I given a seat in the front row near you, 
 yesterday?" I inquired of Serge. "I should think a new 
 pupil would be placed at the foot of the class, and be 
 compelled to make his way up." 
 
 " Oh, good students are not distinguished from poor 
 students by the places they occupy in the class-room. 
 I have a seat in the front row merely because I am near- 
 sighted, and cannot see the blackboard and maps any-
 
 NEW FACES. 151 
 
 where else. All who have seats in this row are troubled 
 in the same way that I am. Directly behind us sit the 
 students whose vision is less defective, while the far-sighted 
 pupils have seats at the other end of the room." 
 
 " But I am not near-sighted, so why was I placed here?" 
 
 " Because your eyes have not been examined yet. The 
 doctor makes his tour of inspection every Monday. You 
 will be called up ; he will satisfy himself in regard to the 
 acuteness of your vision ; the result will be recorded in a 
 register, and a corresponding seat will be assigned you." 
 
 Every sound suddenly ceased ; you could have heard a 
 pin drop in the room. The professor had just entered. 
 
 " M. Golovetchov, our instructor in Latin," whispered 
 Serge. 
 
 M. Golovetchov was a slender man of medium height, 
 with thin, gray locks and side whiskers. He was about 
 fifty years of age, and though he impressed me at first as 
 being very austere both in appearance and manner, his 
 steel-gray eyes kindled when he talked, and at times as- 
 sumed a really genial expression. He was severe, but 
 universally respected. 
 
 The Latin class took up the first half of the morning. 
 The recitation of one of Virgil's Eclogues was first given, 
 and occasionally the professor interrupted the pupil and 
 repeated a few lines in his stead. It was a pleasure to 
 listen to his melodious voice and graceful rendering of 
 the lines. It was evident that he derived a keen artistic 
 enjoyment from the well-rounded periods, and that it must 
 have been torture to him to hear these beautiful verses 
 murdered by a drawling, monotonous voice, or an in- 
 correct rhythm. It must be admitted that he was often 
 obliged to suffer in this way in the Third Class, however.
 
 152 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 The recitation of the eclogue was followed by the trans- 
 lation of a page of Sallust. A pupil designated by the 
 professor read a few lines aloud, then made a literal trans- 
 lation into Russian ; another pupil remodelled this literal 
 translation into a more elegant form ; and finally a third 
 student explained the grammatical construction and pointed 
 out the idioms, M. Golovetchov all the while correcting and 
 explaining in the most lucid and animated manner. 
 
 My father himself had taught me all the Latin and 
 Greek I knew, and I took a genuine interest in the lesson, 
 and was astonished at the swiftness with which the two 
 hours devoted to this recitation passed. 
 
 As I was looking at the professor, he motioned me to 
 approach his chair, asked me my name and age, and then 
 told me to prepare the lesson assigned for the next day, 
 a translation of a passage from Lucian and some verses of 
 the Iliad to be learned by heart 
 
 Then he withdrew, and we boys went out into the 
 courtyard to enjoy our recess. 
 
 " Te" rentieff ! " cried Serge, " I say, wait for me ! " 
 
 On hearing this exclamation a youth in front of me 
 turned, and began to stare at me in a most remarkable 
 manner. 
 
 I returned the stare with interest, I presume, for I was 
 greatly astonished. 
 
 He was a tolerably good-looking, light complexioned 
 fellow, about my own size, but he had a rather consequen- 
 tial, conceited air. At last, tired of being stared at, I put 
 on my cap, and plunging my hands in my pockets, said, 
 with a rather forced smile, for I was considerably 
 embarrassed, 
 
 " You "11 know me when you see me again, I hope." He
 
 NEW F4CES. 153 
 
 made no reply, however, but turning his back on me, 
 walked rapidly away. 
 
 "Did you bring any lunch?" inquired Serge, as he 
 slipped his arm through mine. 
 
 "No; did you?" 
 
 " No, indeed ; my father will not allow it. He thinks 
 that eating too often dulls the mind and makes study very 
 difficult." 
 
 " It strikes me that this is a precept I shall be very 
 likely to observe," I said to myself. " What is going on 
 down there?" I added aloud, pointing to the farther end 
 of the courtyard, where quite a crowd of students had 
 already assembled. 
 
 " Ah, they are going to skate. What a pity I forgot 
 my skates this morning ! Have n't you yours? " 
 
 " No, I did n't bring them." 
 
 " Oh, well, let us go and look on." 
 
 When we joined the others we found that most of the 
 boys had their skates on, and were already skimming 
 swiftly over the sheet of ice at the end of the playground. 
 I saw, too, that this was not a pond, as I at first supposed, 
 but a perfectly level grass-plot covered with a thick coat- 
 ing of ice. 
 
 " It 's a splendid skating-rink," explained Serge, " though 
 I 'm not sure you ever saw one like it before. As soon as 
 the first cold weather comes, we flood the plot a little 
 every day, of course the grass is cut short first, and 
 the ice soon becomes so thick that it lasts far into the 
 spring, and long after the ice on the ponds has melted. 
 The only trouble is that we can enjoy it only a half hour a 
 day, for we have but one recess." 
 
 " How about the afternoon? "
 
 154 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 " Oh, the afternoon session is only two hours long, 
 with but five minutes intermission, so there is no time for 
 skating ; besides, we have afternoon class but four times a 
 week. We have no afternoon session Wednesdays and 
 Saturdays." 
 
 We had been watching the skaters but a few minutes 
 when a shower of snowballs struck me on the head and 
 back, and turning quickly, I saw a crowd of Third Class 
 boys half concealed behind a snow-bank, from which they 
 were manufacturing their ammunition. 
 
 " Help, Serge, help ! " I cried delighted, for I was 
 an adept in this sport. Indeed, it was almost the only 
 game I had ever enjoyed playing with the children of our 
 village. Serge, Grichine, and I, together with a few 
 others, soon gathered a big pile of snow, and returned the 
 enemy's fire with a well directed cannonade. 
 
 We soon gained a partial victory over our assailants, 
 and were about rushing forward to carry the fortress by 
 assault, when the bell rang, and we raced back to the 
 college pell-mell, warmed and enlivened by this stirring 
 sport. All my timidity had vanished so far as my fellow 
 pupils were concerned, and it seemed to me I had been a 
 student of Saint- Vladimir College all my life. 
 
 The boy who had stared at me in such an insolent 
 manner, and whom I had heard addressed as Strodtmann, 
 had been at the head of the attacking party in our snow- 
 ball fight ; but I was a little surprised when he jostled me 
 rather roughly in the corridor on our return, and I fancied 
 I overheard some muttered remarks about " Stepneaks " 1 
 and " peasants who force themselves in among city 
 people." I was by no means sure that these remarks were 
 1 A dweller upon the steppes, synonymous with peasant or rustic.
 
 HEW FACES. 155 
 
 intended for me, however ; and not being at all sensitive, 
 my return to the class-room was attended with no incident 
 of importance. 
 
 It was Saturday, so we were free for the rest of the day 
 when the morning recitations were over ; and after bidding 
 Serge good-by, I hastened back to The White Bear, 
 resolved to devote the afternoon to a search for other 
 lodgings. 
 
 I went straight up to my garret, packed my things, and 
 came downstairs with my valise in my hand. 
 
 "Is my bill ready?" I inquired of my hostess, who sat 
 by the stove knitting, with a rather surly expression on her 
 face. 
 
 " Of course. Did n't you ask me for it? " 
 
 " Then give it to me, if you please." 
 
 The old woman handed me a dirty scrap of paper. 
 " Here it is," she remarked, " four roubles, five kopecks ; 
 and I call upon all the saints to witness that it is cheap, 
 dirt cheap, for such a nice room, and a young man that 
 I waited on like my own son " 
 
 I interrupted her with an exclamation of wrath and 
 dismay. Four roubles, five kopecks ! It was a clear case 
 of robbery ! Why, it would take nearly all the money I 
 possessed in the world to pay it ! 
 
 But the old woman began to cry out as if some one was 
 abusing her. 
 
 " Room, half a rouble," she whined ; " dinner only 
 half a rouble, a dinner for a prince, too! brandy for 
 eight persons, upon my word as an honest woman, I 
 charge less for the brandy than it cost me, two and a 
 half roubles ; and the broken plates, plates that belonged 
 to my poor dead father, the only relic I had left of that
 
 156 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 sainted man, one rouble, five kopecks ; and not a single 
 kopeck for all the trouble you have given me, nothing 
 for taking up all that water, that nice, fresh water to your 
 room ! No nobleman in his palace could have been better 
 served. If you want to cheat a poor widow you can, but 
 may the curse of heaven fall upon you ! " etc. 
 
 There seemed to be no way to escape from the horrible 
 old creature but to pay her. I did so, and left the inn 
 with an almost empty purse, and far from pleased with the 
 results of my first day of independence. Then I began to 
 wander about the city in search of a shelter, intending at 
 the same time to try and find some work by which I could 
 support myself. I roamed about a long time without suc- 
 cess, however, for my experience at the White Bear made 
 me shrink from the thought of entering another den of that 
 kind, and all the lodgings I liked were too expensive for 
 me. While searching for lodgings, I also kept a sharp 
 look-out for places where I thought they might need an 
 honest, industrious boy. Thus, I tried in turn a bookseller 
 who needed a copyist, a harness-maker who had adver- 
 tised for an apprentice, and a fire-engine station where the 
 services of a boy willing to make himself generally useful 
 were desired ; but some wanted references, others thought 
 me too young, or the position was already filled. 
 
 When night came, I was no better off than when I be- 
 gan. I was tired and disheartened, and as I dragged my- 
 self wearily along, laden with my valise, which seemed 
 intolerably heavy now, I asked myself despondently what 
 was going to become of me. 
 
 Meanwhile, my peregrinations had brought me back to 
 the same railway where I left the train on my arrival in the 
 city, and an almost homelike feeling stole over me at the
 
 DMITRI IX PERPLEXITY ABOUT HIS NIGHT'S LODGING.
 
 NEW FACES. 159 
 
 thought that this iron track which dwindled away to a 
 mere thread in the distance led to Sitovka. Almost un- 
 consciously, I entered the depot, and taking advantage of 
 the fact that I had my valise with me, I did what any 
 person who was waiting for a train was at liberty to do, 
 that is, selected a bench and stretched myself out upon it, 
 using my valise as a pillow. In a few moments I had 
 fallen into a deep sleep, from which I did not wake until 
 the next morning. No one had troubled himself in the 
 least about my presence. A good-natured looking porter 
 was opening the baggage-room when I woke, and I ven- 
 tured to ask him to take charge of my valise until evening. 
 He consented ; and after I had taken out my skates and 
 thanked him for his kindness, I left the station just as the 
 sun made its appearance above the eastern horizon.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 A FAMOUS MUSICIAN. 
 
 I WALKED briskly toward the city with my head well 
 up in the air, and a few kopecks still jingling in my 
 pocket. My breakfast consisted of a big piece of rye 
 bread ; and while eating it, I seated myself on a bench in 
 one of the public squares to review the situation. As I 
 was sitting there Strodtmann passed. I recognized him in- 
 stantly. He was quite gorgeously attired in a pair of wide 
 black velvet trousers, and his broadcloth pelisse was 
 trimmed with costly fur. He gave me a contemptuous 
 glance, and I felt the hot blood rush to my face. The 
 thought occurred to me that I might be disgracing my 
 uniform or rather the famous cap of the institution 
 by munching black bread in a public place, and if I had 
 yielded to my first impulse, I should have stepped up to 
 my fellow pupil and expressed my willingness to explain 
 then and there if he wished it; but either he did not per- 
 ceive my intention, or he was resolved not to give me the 
 desired opportunity, for after having surveyed me from 
 head to foot with a supercilious air, he continued on his 
 way, whistling in a manner that seemed positively insult- 
 ing to me. Although I was generally not at all prone to 
 take offence, Strodtmann's behavior greatly disconcerted 
 me ; and as soon as he disappeared from sight around the 
 next corner, I took a very dejected survey of myself. My 
 toilet, made at the pump in the courtyard of the railway
 
 A FAMOUS MUSICIAN. l6l 
 
 station, had been of the most primitive kind, and my 
 clothes needed brushing sadly ; but though this was very 
 annoying, how could I help it? I could certainly sub- 
 mit to this trifling inconvenience after so many greater 
 trials. 
 
 The morning was magnificent, and as it was Sunday, the 
 bells of the fifteen hundred churches of Moscow were fill- 
 ing the clear, crisp air with a flood of melody. The trees 
 were thickly hung with icicles, to which the bright sunlight 
 imparted all the brilliant hues of the rainbow. The ground 
 was covered with a thick coating of snow and ice, and I 
 saw a number of children gliding swiftly along on skates 
 instead of walking like the staid and respectable citizens. 
 
 I had noticed the same thing the evening before, and 
 this had caused me to take my own skates out of my 
 valise before leaving the depot; and as soon as I had 
 finished my breakfast, I put them on and resumed my tour 
 of inspection. 
 
 The streets were very quiet, and the people I met wore 
 that thoughtful, rather austere expression usual with us on 
 Sunday. I met entire families on their way to church, the 
 ladies and children warmly dressed in fur-lined pelisses, 
 and followed by tall footmen carrying their prayer-books. 
 
 As I knew nothing about the city, I thought I would go 
 to the Kremlin, and take another look at it; so I started 
 off, gliding swiftly and smoothly through the peaceful 
 streets. Oh, what good exercise skating is ! I was soon 
 warm, almost too warm in fact, and my situation seemed 
 much less gloomy to me by the time I reached the Krasno'f 
 Plocshad, or Red Square. 
 
 A church loomed up before me, a strange, fantastic edi- 
 fice, covered with towers and domes, all of different shapes 
 
 ii
 
 1 62 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 and sizes and colors; one, painted to represent a green 
 net-work over a yellow ground, another red, with broad 
 white stripes, another blue and yellow, and still another 
 gilded. From a belfry in one of the towers, the bells 
 were ringing joyously. 
 
 " Oh, yes, this must be the church Serge ArcadieVitch 
 was telling me about," I said to myself. " I think I '11 go 
 in and take a look at it." 
 
 The massive doors stood open. The worshippers were 
 in their places, and the rich tones of the great organ al- 
 ready filled the nave. I stepped in, but paused almost 
 instantly, overcome with admiration, for never before had 
 I heard any music to be compared with this. First came 
 a rich burst of majestic melody that died away in a sigh 
 softer than the murmur of the summer breeze; then a 
 pure, ethereal note, softer and more mellow than any 
 human voice, took up the refrain again, which ended, as it 
 had begun, in another glorious and inspiring burst of 
 melody. 
 
 Never had I dreamed of anything like this. I turned 
 hot and cold by turns as I listened to the magical strains 
 with breathless eagerness, and when they died away, I 
 found that my eyes were full of tears. 
 
 I stole softly down to the other end of the church ; and 
 seeing a little winding staircase before me, I mounted it 
 and found myself standing in front of the organ. 
 
 A venerable man dressed in black was seated at the 
 instrument, his long white hair hanging in wild disorder 
 about his austere face. He played without even glancing 
 at the music in front of him ; for though his fingers moved 
 over the keyboard with marvellous celerity and precision, 
 his sparkling eyes were fixed on vacancy.
 
 A FAMOUS MUSICIAN. 163 
 
 About thirty lads from ten to sixteen years of age were 
 grouped behind him. Among them I perceived one ot 
 my classmates that same Grichine Yegov, of whom Krat- 
 kine had spoken. I ventured to approach him, for he was 
 standing a little behind the others. 
 
 " Who is that? " I asked eagerly, pointing to the organist. 
 
 "Why, that is Master Nepomuk Raabzinsky, the great 
 Hungarian composer," replied Grichine. " Did you never 
 hear of him?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Well, you can boast of being the only person in Mos- 
 cow that has not. Everybody comes to St. Basil's on 
 Sunday to hear him play, even the czar has been here, 
 for Nepomuk Raabzinsky won't put himself out for any 
 one, and plays nowhere but here. For more than thirty 
 years he has never been heard anywhere else." 
 
 An impressive chant interrupted us. The service had 
 begun. The choristers drew nearer to the great musician, 
 and suddenly began to sing one of the most triumphant 
 and inspiring canticles of our liturgy; and their pure, 
 sweet voices, supported by the rich, full tones of the 
 organ, were wonderfully effective, as the waves of melody 
 rose and fell through the arches of the ancient edifice. 
 
 I was familiar with this canticle from having often sung 
 it at Sitovka with my poor Agathon Illarionovitch. 
 
 When they began the second verse, I could not resist 
 the desire to unite my voice with those of the choristers. 
 I sang at first almost under my breath ; then seeing that 
 the sopranos seemed weak, I aided them with the whole 
 power of my voice, thus carrying the air alone, as it 
 were. 
 
 Nepomuk Raabzinsky turned and fixed a stern eye upon
 
 1 64 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 me, without ceasing to play ; but instead of being intimi- 
 dated by his glance, I fancied I read a sort of encourage- 
 ment in it, and intoxicated by the beauty of the music, 
 I yielded to the spell, and sang on to the end with my 
 whole heart and soul. 
 
 As the inspiring strains died away in one rich, long 
 sustained, vibrating chord, the maestro rose, or rather 
 bounded from his seat, and came toward me. I fancied 
 he was going to pitch me headlong downstairs to punish 
 me for my intrusion. In fact, I felt almost certain that 
 was to be my fate as I saw him push through the crowd 
 of choristers. On reaching me, he seized me in an iron 
 grasp that would have crushed shoulders less sturdy than 
 mine, dragged me up to the organ, and placing me on 
 his right, said imperiously, 
 
 " Stand there ! Don't you dare to move ! " 
 
 I took good care not to disobey him; but when the 
 choir began an anthem, I dared not open my lips. 
 
 " Sing, you egregious idiot ! "growled N6pomuk, savagely. 
 
 I joined in the chorus, and somehow fancying I again 
 read approval and encouragement in the conductor's eyes, 
 I took it into my head to display my modest talents for 
 his benefit ; so ever and anon I amused myself by chang- 
 ing from one part to another, singing now alto, and now 
 soprano, and embellishing the air with the trills and runs 
 in which my soul delighted, exactly as I had been wont 
 to do in Sitovka. 
 
 The anthem ended ; the maestro, who had not uttered 
 a word, began to play a wild, sweet melody that thrilled 
 me with rapturous delight; I listened breathlessly, and 
 when the last note died away, I could not repress a deep 
 sigh.
 
 A FAMOUS MUSICIAN. 165 
 
 He leaned toward me. 
 
 " Do you know the Invocation solo in G-flat?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Sing it, then ; and mind you, no nonsense this time." 
 
 My heart throbbed almost to bursting; but when the 
 choir finished the prelude, I began the solo. The solemn, 
 majestic strains wafted me upwards as if upon wings ; my 
 embarrassment was forgotten. I gave full vent to my 
 voice, and was filled with wonder myself as I heard it ring 
 out pure and rich, filling the immense structure even to 
 the vaulted roof. 
 
 The service ended; the old musician beckoned me 
 to him. 
 
 " Why don't you come and sing here every Sunday? " 
 he asked curtly. 
 
 " I am a stranger in Moscow. I have but just arrived in 
 the city." 
 
 " Very well, henceforth you are a member of this choir. 
 Do you understand that? If you are poor, and you look 
 as if you were, I '11 give you four roubles a month. Do you 
 hear, boys? This lad is engaged as first soprano." 
 
 I tried to thank him. 
 
 " That will do ! that will do," interrupted the maestro. 
 " See that you are on time. Punctuality is indispensable. 
 Look here, you had better come and see me this evening. 
 We can talk the matter over." 
 
 Without another word, he walked away. 
 
 " Wonders of wonders ! " ejaculated Grichine, who had 
 joined me. " What a success ! " 
 
 " I don't know what you mean." 
 
 " Why, never within the memory of man has the great 
 Nepomuk Raabzinsky been so corrtplimentary. We have
 
 1 66 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 never before heard from his lips any epithets save ' egregi- 
 ous idiot ' and ' consummate ass ' ! And he wants to have a 
 talk with you. It is truly marvellous ! " 
 
 I left the church in company with Grichine. Seven or 
 eight choristers were standing in the doorway as we passed 
 out. They all stopped talking on seeing us. 
 
 " Savine does n't look very well pleased," remarked 
 Grichine, laughing. 
 
 "Who is Savine?" 
 
 " That dark-complexioned fellow who was holding forth 
 in the middle of the group. He has been our first so- 
 prano. Of course it is not very flattering to him to find 
 himself ousted by you." 
 
 The lad referred to surveyed me contemptuously, then 
 turning away, with a shrug of the shoulders, remarked loud 
 enough for me to hear, 
 
 " Bah ! the maestro has lost his senses ! He '11 get over 
 it, though. These violent fancies of his never last long ! " 
 
 He walked away. I noticed he too wore the red cap of 
 a Third Class student. 
 
 " Does he go to our school? " I inquired of Grichine. 
 
 "Savine Podnier? Oh, yes; he belongs to our school 
 and to our class. You '11 know him by and by." 
 
 " Are there any other of our schoolmates in the choir? " 
 
 " No, only we three. I come here, you know, merely to 
 earn a little money, and the rich students think it quite be- 
 neath their dignity to do such a thing. Savine, however, 
 sang for the sake of the glory, he being first soprano ; but 
 now you've taken his place, I doubt if he comes any 
 more." 
 
 I had quite a pleasant chat with Grichine, who seems to 
 be a very nice fellow. He told me a good deal about him-
 
 A FAMOUS MUSICIAN. 1 67 
 
 self. It seems he has lost his father, and his mother is 
 very poor, and they find it difficult to get along. He told 
 me, too, that it was the height of his ambition to become a 
 doctor. I, in turn, gave him a brief history of my own life, 
 and he made me promise that I would come and dine 
 with him some day at the Pension Goltchov, that Serge 
 pointed out to me. 
 
 We parted very good friends, and I continued my walk, 
 greatly relieved to know that my immediate wants were 
 thus provided for. In the evening, I went to call on the 
 maestro, as I had been ordered to do. Grichine gave me 
 the address. 
 
 Nepomuk Raabzinsky lives in a dingy old house in a 
 gloomy street. He opened the door himself when I 
 rapped, and ushered me into his own private apartment. 
 The wildest confusion reigned there. The chairs and 
 tables, and even the floor, were piled high with music and 
 musical instruments, all mixed pell mell with boots and 
 shoes, clothing and cooking utensils. 
 
 He had evidently been engaged in playing the violin 
 when I entered, and he resumed the interrupted melody 
 without appearing to pay the slightest attention to me. It 
 was an unspeakably sad and weird composition. The violin 
 wailed and sobbed like some human soul in mortal an- 
 guish ; there were strange discords, sudden transitions, 
 abrupt changes of key; then snatches of savage mirth, 
 which, together with the dimly lighted room and the fur- 
 rowed, care-worn face of the musician, produced an inde- 
 scribable effect upon me. 
 
 I wept in spite of myself, my grief, my loneliness, my 
 gloomy future, seemed to be so faithfully depicted in this 
 melody; then, without pausing, the maestro glided into
 
 1 68 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 a smooth, soft movement of marvellous sweetness and 
 peacefulness. 
 
 " Wrat do you think of it? " he asked, as the last note 
 died away. 
 
 " You broke my heart at first, but afterwards you more 
 than consoled me," I answered, wiping my eyes. 
 
 The old musician's smile was one of profound satis- 
 faction. 
 
 " Well, it was Nepomuk Raabzinsky who composed that 
 melody," he replied. " People refused to acknowledge his 
 talent when he was young, you know ; they sneered at him 
 and ridiculed him and made his hair turn white while he 
 was still young. Now when old age has come, and the 
 grave is clamoring for my bones, and I have only a few 
 more miserable days to drag out in a foreign land, they 
 would gladly recall and applaud me. What do I care for 
 their praise now? I am too proud! I scorn their stupid 
 flattery, and they shall never hear the melodies that ran 
 riot in my brain when I was in my prime, never! They 
 are all here," he added, striking his clenched fist on the 
 table before him, a table piled with sheets of music ; " and 
 when death comes, when my last hour is near, I, Nepomuk 
 Raabzinsky, will thrust all this into the flames with my own 
 hand, and my works will perish with me, and by me." 
 
 His gestures revealed a savage exultation. I believed 
 him mad then ; afterwards I learned that his peculiarities 
 and his misanthropy were alike due to great suffering. 
 For a long, long time he had been pitilessly ridiculed and 
 misunderstood; then he left his ungrateful country, and 
 came to Moscow, where he led a life of absolute seclusion 
 for years, going only to church, where he gave his ser- 
 vices gratuitously.
 
 DMITRI IN THE OLD MUSICIAN'S ROOM.
 
 A FAMOUS MUSICIAN. I /I 
 
 When he became a little calmer, he questioned me 
 about myself; and I tried to tell him how grateful I was 
 to him for having taken me as a pupil. 
 
 " Bah ! You will do like all the rest of them," he ex- 
 claimed bitterly. " I shall develop your musical talents, 
 and form you, as it were ; then, when you become famous, 
 for you are gifted enough to become so, if you will, 
 you '11 forget all your teacher has done for you ; you '11 
 even cease to remember that you were ever a pupil of 
 that old musical fanatic Raabzinsky." 
 
 I protested in vain. 
 
 " Silence ! I tell you you '11 do like all the others ! " 
 cried the old maestro. " I Ve known only too long what 
 one may expect to reap here below, nothing but in- 
 gratitude and black hypocrisy. Here, try this page." 
 
 I glanced at the lines of music jotted down, haphazard, 
 in characters as strongly marked and erratic as Nepomuk 
 Raabzinsky's own traits of character ; and feeling sure that 
 it was a melody of his own composition, I did my best to 
 render it correctly and with feeling. 
 
 "You sang it very badly," he said sternly, when I had 
 concluded. " Try again, and do it better this time." 
 
 I strove to obey as I sang the composition again, and 
 yet again. As I was about to begin for the fourth time, 
 he interrupted me. 
 
 " Enough ! " he said brusquely. " You have a good 
 voice, and what is better, a good ear. You love music ; I 
 can see that. It is a great pity, though. You had much 
 better like something else, mending shoes or measuring 
 calico, for instance. But what idiot was it that taught you 
 to sing?" 
 
 " It was no idiot. It was the clergyman of our village,
 
 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 and he has a very fine voice. If I have any talent for 
 music, I owe it to him." 
 
 " Hum ! You 're faithful to your old friends, I see. 
 How strange ! Ah, well, you may go now. You can 
 come back early to-morrow morning, and I '11 show you 
 what singing is. Where do you live?" 
 
 " I have n't any lodgings yet ; I " 
 
 The maestro opened the door, and put his head out into 
 the corridor. 
 
 " Here, hallo there, you woman ! Ouliana, I say ! 
 Ouliana ! " 
 
 A hideous-looking old woman appeared in answer to 
 this peremptory summons. 
 
 " Give this boy a room ! " shouted the maestro ; " and 
 don't make him pay too much for it, or you '11 have to 
 settle with me." 
 
 He re-entered his room, slamming the door violently 
 behind him; and I followed the old woman up to the 
 garret, where she showed me a tolerably clean little room, 
 containing a narrow bed and a stool, which she said she 
 would rent to me for a rouble a month. Having ac- 
 cepted her offer, I hastened back to the railway station 
 for my valise. Then I returned and took possession of 
 my little room, with which I was greatly pleased. With 
 the addition of a shelf or two for my books, I thought my 
 new quarters would be quite palatial. I soon fell asleep ; 
 but until morning the plaintive tones of the great com- 
 poser's violin were mingled with my dreams.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE BITER BITTEN. 
 
 ON Monday the physician connected with the Gymna- 
 sium paid us a visit, as Serge had predicted. He 
 examined me, and seemed to be thoroughly convinced of 
 the vigor of my constitution ; he seated me, too, on the 
 last row, among the far sighted pupils. 
 
 Besides being separated from Serge, I had the still 
 greater annoyance of finding myself in close proximity to 
 Capiton Strodtmann. Savine Podnier occupied a seat be- 
 side him, and when I took my place I received a hostile 
 glance from both of them. I must admit that I returned 
 it with interest. My neighbor on the right was Grichine 
 Yegov. He was so thin and dark and short that he looked 
 very like a monkey, and the strange contortions he made 
 while writing increased the resemblance. He gradually 
 got his head farther and farther over until it rested upon 
 his right arm ; and it was only by a vast amount of sniffing 
 and snorting, and by poking his tongue far out of his 
 mouth, that he managed to write his exercises, which 
 certainly ought to have been marvels, judging from the 
 amount of time and labor he expended on them ; but I 
 soon discovered that, in spite of his apparent studiousness, 
 Master Grichine was a very fun-loving fellow, and sure to 
 have a hand in every piece of mischief. 
 
 On my left sat a handsome boy, who looked consider- 
 ably younger than most of our fellow-students. He was
 
 174 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 always very elegantly dressed, and usually came escorted 
 by his private tutor, a pale, slender young man, and 
 followed by a page of about his own age, who carried his 
 books. This young aristocrat's name was Platon Gre"- 
 gorov, and he belonged to one of the first families in 
 Moscow; but he was a good-hearted, jolly fellow for all 
 that, and Grichine's pranks were a never-failing source of 
 amusement to him. 
 
 Immediately after the physician's departure lessons be- 
 gan. We had mathematics that morning; and I was soon 
 reduced to a state bordering on despair by a problem 
 the professor placed on the blackboard ; 
 
 " A hound is pursuing a hare which is 95 leaps in advance of 
 him. The hound makes 6 leaps while the hare is making 8, and 
 4 leaps of the hound are equal to 7 of those made by the hare. 
 How many leaps must the hound make in order to overtake the 
 hare? 
 
 "To be solved by arithmetic." 
 
 " We have a new scholar, I see," he remarked. " Dmitri 
 F6dorovitch Terentieff, come to the board, and explain the 
 solution of this problem." 
 
 Alas ! arithmetic has never been my forte. I went to 
 the board most reluctantly, and soon had hares and 
 hounds in a state of inextricable confusion. I stood be- 
 fore the blackboard, chalk in hand, now effacing a figure 
 with a nervous hand, now making one, adding, subtract- 
 ing, dividing the hares by the hounds, and the hounds by 
 the hares, toiling and moiling, but making not one atom 
 of progress. 
 
 " Hum ! " said the professor, seeing my complete be- 
 wilderment; "this is not very promising. Yegov, come 
 and show us how this problem should be solved."
 
 A BITER BITTEN. 175 
 
 Grichine was at the blackboard before I had time to lay 
 down the crayon. 
 
 " Go back to your seat, Terentieff." 
 
 I returned to my place, overcome with confusion, only 
 to be greeted with the sneers and smothered laughter of 
 Strodtmann and his follower. 
 
 " How embarrassed the poor child is ! " muttered Capiton. 
 
 " Lend him a fan ; he looks warm." 
 
 " No ; don't you see it is the blush of innocence that 
 dyes his cheeks?" 
 
 And Capiton, seizing a pencil, hastily drew a rough 
 caricature of me and my costume, my long hair, sturdy 
 limbs, and shabby blouse (there was a big patch on the 
 back, at which I inwardly rebelled), and after writing 
 under it, " The new Pascal discovering the laws of mathe- 
 matics," he circulated his sketch among the boys. 
 
 This chef-d'oeuvre was a great success. It was passed 
 along under the benches, and everybody laughed im- 
 moderately. I did not like to appear incensed at a joke 
 which might not have been intended to hurt my feelings ; 
 so I laughed with the others. 
 
 Meanwhile, Grichine had triumphantly solved all the 
 difficulties which seemed so terrifying to me, and was 
 now concluding the operation with an imposing flourish, 
 announcing that the hound would have to make 228 leaps 
 in order to overtake the hare. 
 
 "Very good," said M. Perekoff. "Strodtmann, you 
 may now solve, by algebra, the following problem : - 
 
 " A father is asked his son's age. ' I was three times my son's 
 age twelve years ago,' replied the father. ' Now, I am only twice 
 his age.' What is the age of the father and of the son? " 
 
 All Strodtmann's cheerfulness seemed to have deserted
 
 176 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 him as he dragged himself to the blackboard. He effaced 
 every mark with great care and deliberation ; he sharpened 
 his crayon ; then he blew his nose ; then he indulged in 
 a fit of coughing. 
 
 " We are waiting, Strodtmann," remarked the professor. 
 
 Then seeing the pupil still remain silent and motionless, 
 
 " How many unknown quantities have we in this 
 problem?" he asked. 
 
 After a long silence, Capiton replied that there were 
 two. 
 
 " Think a moment." 
 
 " There must be two, Gregov Ivanovitch," repeated 
 Strodtmann, with an air of injured virtue. " The age of 
 the father and of the son." 
 
 " Is not the father's age twice that of the son? " 
 
 " Yes, of course ; I just said " 
 
 " What, then? Answer, Kratkine, if you please." 
 
 " It would only be necessary to find the age of one in 
 order to discover the age of the other," replied Serge, 
 promptly. 
 
 " Evidently. Go on, Strodtmann." 
 
 But Capiton continued to blunder so outrageously that 
 the professor at last sent him back to his seat. 
 
 Serge was summoned in his stead, and explained each 
 step with a calmness that the most refractory problem 
 would be powerless to disturb, at least so it seemed 
 to me. 
 
 I learned in a few moments that if x represented the 
 son's age, 2 x would represent the father's ; hence, twelve 
 years ago the son's age was x 12, and the father's 
 2 x 12. As the father was then three times the age 
 of the son, we would have the following equation :
 
 THE BITER BITTEN. Iff 
 
 3 (X 12) = 2 X 12 
 
 3 X 36 =.2 X 12 
 
 x=. 24 
 
 Consequently, the father was 48 years old and the son 24. 
 
 While I was gazing at my new friend's clever exposition, 
 M. Perekoff, turning to another pupil in the front row, 
 said, 
 
 " Ignato Stepanovitch Luvine, is there any other way of 
 solving this problem?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Luvine, promptly; "we might proceed 
 with two unknown quantities. For example, let x repre- 
 sent the age of the father, and y that of the son. We 
 should then have the following equations : 
 
 x=z 2 y 
 x 12= (y 12) 3 
 
 hence by substitution : 
 
 2 y 12 = 37 3 6 
 
 y = 24 or y = 24 
 * = 48" 
 
 " Fudge ! there 's nothing very difficult about that," 
 muttered Strodtmann, who seemed to have recovered his 
 spirits entirely. " I could have done it just as well as 
 they did, if I had chosen to take the trouble." 
 
 M. Perekoff then gave us some explanations in al- 
 gebra and geometry, and his clear and concise manner 
 of speaking convinced me that the science of mathematics 
 was really something very different from that which I had 
 learned under Master Lebewohl's ferule. After he had 
 assigned the lesson for the next day, the bell rang for 
 recess. 
 
 12
 
 1 78 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 " Let me tell you one thing," Serge said to me as we 
 were on our way to the skating pond ; " if I were in your 
 place, I would have my hair cut." 
 
 " Why should I, when it seems to afford everybody so 
 much amusement," I replied, laughing at the recollection 
 of Capiton's caricature. 
 
 " Yes, that is all very well ; but here everybody wears 
 their hair short, so yours gives you a a rather peculiar 
 look." 
 
 " Why don't you say an idiotic look, and have done 
 with it?" I retorted good-naturedly. "Well, many thanks 
 for your advice ; I '11 follow it after school." 
 
 A big, brawny fellow like me, with long hair hanging 
 down upon his shoulders after the fashion of the Middle 
 Ages, and a tiny cap perched upon his luxuriant locks, 
 must indeed have looked odd enough. 
 
 I had my hair cut that very day, and felt much more 
 comfortable after the operation. 
 
 There was a French recitation that afternoon, and I had 
 the pleasure of hearing my translation praised by M. 
 Lapenelle. He called attention to some expressions he 
 considered specially well rendered, and said I had managed 
 the idioms much better than the majority of my class- 
 mates. He expressed himself as equally well satisfied 
 with my theme, but added that he was surprised to notice 
 in it certain affectations of speech that would lead one to 
 suppose I had learned my French in the days of the grand 
 monarqtie, Louis XIV., and asked me how it happened. 
 
 I replied rather timidly that I had learned French from 
 my father, and that he himself had learned it from an old 
 dmigrt, an octogenarian, which might account for my 
 rather antiquated mode of expression. I answered in
 
 THE BITER BITTEN. 179 
 
 French, as M. Lapenelle never allowed a word of Rus- 
 sian to be used in the class-room, except when it was 
 absolutely necessary, that is, when one was translating. 
 
 " You have a good accent," he remarked. " Read this 
 passage, if you please." 
 
 He handed me a volume of Racine, and I read aloud the 
 famous passage beginning, 
 
 " A peine nous sortions des portes de Trezene." 
 
 How often I had heard Sacha repeat it to my father ! 
 
 "Very good, very good indeed!" said M. Lapenelle. 
 " You do credit to the teaching of my honored friend your 
 father." 
 
 I was deeply touched by these words of commendation. 
 After this, M. Lapenelle asked us to give him our opin- 
 ion in regard to this selection, and also upon Racine, his 
 contemporaries, and French tragedy in general. Nearly 
 all the members of the class took part in the discussion. 
 I noticed that Serge had a rather heavy, though correct 
 accent, and that he knew much more about the chro- 
 nology of the authors and their works than any of our 
 companions. 
 
 From the very beginning of the recitation, Capiton had 
 pretended to be asleep .behind a book. 
 
 " I am sorry to disturb such peaceful slumbers," re- 
 marked M. Lapenelle, who had not failed to notice this 
 inattention on the part of his pupil, " but Monsieur Strodt- 
 mann will please arouse himself, and delight our ears by 
 reading these verses." 
 
 He referred to the scene between Pyrrhus and Andro- 
 mache in Racine's tragedy. 
 
 Capiton took the book ; but he rendered the lines in such
 
 180 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 a drawling, monotonous tone, and with such a strong 
 German accent, that there was a general laugh, for all the 
 other boys read French very well. Even M. Lapenelle 
 could hardly repress a smile, and I laughed heartily. 
 Capiton contented himself with casting furious glances 
 around him and anathematizing this beastly French tongue, 
 - taking good care that the professor did not hear him, 
 however. 
 
 " Where did he get that accent? " I whispered to Grichine. 
 
 " It runs in the blood. His father is a German," he 
 answered, laughing. " He is a rich man, very rich," he 
 added. " He had charge of the property of a wealthy old 
 bachelor for a number of years, and he feathered his nest 
 well, I can tell you." 
 
 I soon became thoroughly initiated into the rules and 
 regulations of the institution. Before a week had elapsed, 
 the feeling that I was a new comer had vanished, and I 
 had ceased to stand in the slightest awe of my school- 
 mates or of my teachers. They were all, or nearly all, 
 good fellows, I am referring now, of course, to my fellow 
 students, and I soon became quite intimate with Krat- 
 kine, whose sensible, honest nature had won my re- 
 spect from the very first. I soon became familiar, too, 
 with the peculiarities of each professor. M. Golovetchov 
 could not teach unless he was walking up and down the 
 class-room with his hands clasped behind his back. His 
 eyes were always fixed upon a certain window-pane ; if he 
 removed them, he was sure to lose the thread of his dis- 
 course. M. Perekoff was quite a favorite in society. It 
 was said that he dined out every evening, and that he 
 was on intimate terms with all the officials. M. Lapenelle 
 had never been able to accustom himself to our Russian
 
 THE BITER BITTEN. l8l 
 
 cookery, and " Nettle Soup," one of our favorite dishes, 
 spoiled his appetite for a week. I discovered, too, that 
 our learned superintendent was goodness itself, and that 
 he was now engaged upon a fifteen-volume work on the 
 Rings of Saturn, a work that was destined to put to 
 shame the achievements of all other astronomers, past, 
 present, and future. M. Sarevine had the reputation of 
 being severe, but conscientious and just. In fact, all the 
 students, except a few chronic grumblers, spoke of our 
 instructors with affection and respect. 
 
 I also learned that the dread tyrant Gavruchka was 
 rather too fond of the bottle, and that undue indulgence 
 in stimulants caused him to behold terrible visions that 
 frightened him nearly out of his wits. 
 
 This reminds me of an incident that occurred shortly 
 after I entered the school, and that enlightened me very 
 considerably in regard to Capiton Strodtmann's real 
 character. One cold winter's morning as we left the 
 schoolroom, half frozen, we all, as with one accord, 
 hastened to the little tool-house on the edge of the pond, 
 where we kept our skates and sleds. It was a tiny struc- 
 ture, built of rough boards, and but dimly lighted by one 
 small window. As Grichine, who was leading the way, 
 turned the key in the lock, a lugubrious moan was heard ; 
 and as the door opened, we boys, who were following 
 closely upon Grichine's heels, could hardly believe our 
 eyes. 
 
 A boy was standing in the farthermost corner of the 
 little hut, with his hands pressed tightly over his eyes, as if 
 to shut out some hideous sight. A big hook in the wall 
 had caught in the back of his blouse, a little below the 
 collar, and he was standing perfectly motionless, as if
 
 1 82 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 paralyzed. Indeed, it seemed to us in the dim light that 
 it must be a dead body hanging there. 
 
 "Well!" exclaimed Grichine, gazing at the startling 
 sight in open-mouthed wonder. 
 
 As Grichine spoke, a slight movement was perceptible 
 in the apparently lifeless form ; the hands fell from the face, 
 and to our intense astonishment, we recognized Capiton 
 Strodtmann, but good heavens ! in such a plight ! His 
 hair was wildly disordered, his features were distorted with 
 fear, and traces of tears were plainly visible on his cheeks. 
 
 " Strodtmann ! " we all shouted in the same breath, 
 " what on earth are you doing here ? And what are you 
 crying about, you big booby? Who locked you up in 
 here? We just got the key from Gavruchka." 
 
 These questions and a hundred others burst from the 
 lips of the assembled crowd. 
 
 Capiton made no reply, but stood there pale and trem- 
 bling, gazing at us the while, with an intensely bewil- 
 dered air. 
 
 A stentorian voice, pealing out like thunder just behind 
 us, made us start violently. 
 
 " Ah, ha, Strodtmann, so it is you who amuse yourself 
 by frightening honest people at night! It is you who 
 hide behind the wall in order to pounce out upon them 
 and scare them half to death! So it is you, is it? But 
 you Ve had a chance to see how it is yourself now. Did 
 you have a pleasant night of it, shut up here, my fine 
 gentleman?" 
 
 These words came from the lips of Gavruchka, whose 
 face was crimson with anger, and whose eyes seemed to be 
 starting from their sockets. Strodtmann, still suspended 
 in mid air, tried hard to compose himself and respond to
 
 STRODTMANN'S EXPERIENCE IN THE TOOL-HOUSE.
 
 THE BITER BITTEN. 185 
 
 the janitor's taunts with a contemptuous glance ; but sud- 
 denly he uttered a piercing shriek, and made such a violent 
 spring forward that his blouse gave way, and he fell full 
 length upon the ground. Simultaneously, a pretty white 
 rabbit with pink eyes, long ears, and silky fur bounded 
 past Strodtmann's recumbent form, and seating itself in 
 the corner began tranquilly to stroke its face with its 
 forepaws. 
 
 " What the deuce is the matter with you? " cried Serge, 
 raising our fellow student rather roughly from the ground. 
 " What has happened? " 
 
 " I felt it again just now on my foot," faltered Strodt- 
 mann. " It is the same cold thing that touched my face 
 last night. It held me against the wall with an icy 
 hand." 
 
 " Hand ! " cried Grichine, contemptuously. " This is too 
 rich, upon my word ! It was the hook that held you, you 
 booby ! You must have gone and hung yourself on it. 
 It would certainly never have come after you." 
 
 " And here is your ghost ! " cried Platon, darting after 
 the rabbit, which took refuge behind a pile of snowshoes 
 and bats. After a brief struggle, Gregorov re-appeared, 
 dusty and breathless, holding the innocent little quad- 
 ruped by the ears. 
 
 Shouts of laughter greeted the sight Strodtmann, hav- 
 ing partially recovered from his fright, tried to speak with 
 some of his wonted assurance of manner. 
 
 " You idiots ! " he exclaimed, endeavoring to steady his 
 voice. " I 'd like to see you spend a night alone in this 
 confounded hole, in a place more lonely than than the 
 desert of Sahara ! " 
 
 " Yes, yes," cried Gavruchka, who seemed to quite gloat
 
 186 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 over the tortures the poor fellow must have endured; 
 " I Ve told you all, more than once, that this place is 
 haunted. Last night, when I approached this hut while 
 quietly going my rounds, I heard a sepulchral voice cry 
 out, ' Gavruchka, your end is near ! Prepare to die, 
 Gavruchka, Gavruchka ! ' I was frightened at first, any- 
 body would have been. And then I saw this young 
 gentleman's shadow in the moonlight, and knew it was one 
 of you accursed boys trying to scare me. It did n't take 
 me long to grab him by the nape of the neck, push him 
 into the tool-house, and turn the key on him. And if my 
 poor little rabbit frightened the rascal, it must be because 
 he had a guilty conscience; but for that, he certainly 
 would n't have been almost scared to death by a bit of a 
 creature like this. " 
 
 As he spoke, Gavruchka put his rabbit under his arm, 
 and went back to his room. 
 
 How we laughed ! Strodtmann, still angry and agitated, 
 ran to the superintendent to declare he was ill ; and as his 
 appearance certainly seemed to corroborate the assertion, 
 he was seen no more that day. Gavruchka, satisfied, 
 doubtless, with his revenge, did not mark him absent, so 
 the affair never came to the knowledge of our teachers. 
 Grichine often ran a great risk of condign punishment, 
 however, by feigning the most abject terror whenever he 
 met Strodtmann. He made his teeth chatter so violently 
 that one would have supposed they were about to drop 
 out of his head ; and I think if he had not been of so much 
 assistance to Capiton (he writes all his exercises for him, 
 and does not scruple to accept a certain amount per week 
 for the work), he would have received a good thrashing, 
 Strodtmann being much the larger and stronger of the
 
 THE BITER BITTEN. 187 
 
 two. But that young gentleman can control his temper 
 when expediency requires it ; so he bore Grichine's jokes 
 very patiently, though I often wondered how such a big, 
 brawny fellow could allow himself to be thus ridiculed 
 without a word 'of protest.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 MY VOCATION REVEALS ITSELF AT LAST. 
 
 MY immediate needs being thus provided for (though 
 in a very humble way), there was nothing to cause 
 me much anxiety except matters connected with my 
 school life. Foremost among these was a fear that I 
 might not be able to maintain my place in the first division 
 of my class. I should have felt terribly humiliated if I 
 had been obliged to go back into the second section. It 
 cost me a great effort to keep up with my class, however. 
 I was not only lamentably deficient in many of my studies, 
 but my present life of close confinement and assiduous 
 study was unspeakably irksome to me. While seated at 
 my desk, I often thought of the vast, lonely plain extend- 
 ing on and on until it was merged into the gray sky above 
 it. At such times my brain reeled, and a wild longing 
 for liberty and fresh air took possession of me. The 
 present was forgotten ; I even listened with bated breath, 
 hoping to catch the sounds so familiar to me in days gone 
 by. Again I heard the wind sighing through the lofty trees, 
 and saw fantastically shaped clouds chasing, one another 
 swiftly across the sky ; once more I inhaled the sweet, fresh 
 odors of the country air; and when my teacher's voice 
 awakened me from this delightful dream, it was with a 
 strange sinking of heart that I returned to the grim reali-
 
 MY VOCATION REVEALS ITSELF AT LAST. 189 
 
 ties of life. Sometimes I could hardly believe that I was 
 the Dmitri of former days, everything around me was so 
 different; I was surrounded by strange faces; all my 
 former friends and acquaintances were far away, and this 
 great city how grim and oppressive it seemed in com- 
 parison with my native village ! The very air seemed op- 
 pressive ; I fancied that it had been frightfully tainted by the 
 thousands of lungs that had inhaled it before I did, and 
 absurd as the idea was, it caused me positive suffering. 
 Weird, unfamiliar melodies continued to haunt my brain 
 as in the olden time, but they were so sad now that they 
 often brought tears to my eyes. 
 
 My only consolation was my long rambles through the 
 surrounding country on half holidays ; but even there the 
 air seemed close and insipid in comparison with that of 
 my birthplace. 
 
 I had not become intimate with any of my schoolmates 
 except Serge ; and though he had often invited me to his 
 house, I had always refused to go. As for Strodtmann, 
 my relations with him remained unchanged. The aversion 
 I had felt toward him from the very first increased rather 
 than diminished, and we rarely spoke except to inter- 
 change those slighting remarks which are sure to end in an 
 open rupture sooner or later. 
 
 When he had occasion to speak of me, he always styled 
 me " The Peasant," or " The Ragged Duke," a delicate 
 allusion to my extremely limited wardrobe. Capiton, who 
 was always fashionably and expensively dressed, pretended 
 to consider it a crime for a person to wear a shabby gar- 
 ment ; but chancing to be near him on several occasions, I 
 could see that his stiffly starched collar encircled a neck of 
 doubtful cleanliness, and that his ears were not above sus-
 
 190 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 picion. In short, it was very evident that soap and water 
 did not occupy a prominent place on his toilet-table; and 
 though his hair was always well pomaded, his long, pointed 
 finger-nails were generally dirty, and his hands rarely 
 clean. 
 
 I noticed, too, that Strodtmann, though he boasted a 
 good deal of his strength, was not inclined to select 
 opponents of his own size either in his sports, or in the 
 real or pretended fights so common among schoolboys. I 
 myself would have been very glad to settle the unpleasant- 
 ness between us once for all ; but Capiton turned a deaf 
 ear to all my invitations, so the state of affairs remained 
 unchanged, though a firm conviction that my boastful 
 fellow-student was a coward finally took possession of my 
 mind. 
 
 I found plenty to occupy me at home, independent of 
 my studies. Early every morning Nepomuk Raabzinsky 
 climbed to my little attic-room, and pulled me out of bed. 
 
 " Get up, lazybones, and take your lesson," was the ex- 
 clamation that aroused me at daybreak every morning. 
 
 He hardly gave me time to dress, and explained the 
 principles of music to me until school-time with intense 
 earnestness and enthusiasm. It was evident that music 
 was the one thing in the world worth living for in his 
 opinion, and he saw the principles of harmony in each one 
 of the different laws that govern the universe. 
 
 I was gradually learning to understand some of the 
 secrets of musical composition. He made the works of all 
 the great composers an open book to me ; he familiarized 
 me with their methods; he taught me to appreciate 
 Mozart's wonderful orchestration, how cleverly he made 
 use of each different instrument, how delicately he brought
 
 MY VOCATION REVEALS ITSELF AT LAST. 191 
 
 out the peculiar merits of each. Through him I came to 
 love the modern composers as well as the composers of 
 former times ; and how often, while studying the composi- 
 tions of Berlioz, Wagner, and Massenet, I felt that I was 
 transported into another world ! 
 
 Sometimes, when I had not annoyed my instructor too 
 much by my stupidity, he would take up his violin, or seat 
 himself at the piano, and charm my ears with some divine 
 melody. He knew that I was an appreciative listener, and 
 he played on and on for this humble boy as no one ever 
 played before. 
 
 Such treats were rare, however, though I did my best to 
 please him ; but too often I incensed him by my dulness. 
 At such times, he rapped my fingers pitilessly with his 
 bow ; and I should probably have rebelled but for the min- 
 gled reverence and pity which this highly gifted but unfor- 
 tunate man had inspired in my heart. Quite often, too, I 
 had to listen to furious tirades against human ingratitude, 
 when I failed instantly to understand explanations which 
 were given with a violence that rendered their meaning all 
 the more obscure ; but I loved him in spite of his pecu- 
 liarities, for he possessed a nobility of character and a sin- 
 cerity that could not fail to impress one. As for him, I 
 believe he entertained a profound affection for me, though 
 he never gave any outward manifestation of it. 
 
 Our singing lessons were gradually transformed into 
 lessons in harmony. 
 
 " I have no intention of making you a coxcomb who will 
 strut about the stage merely to show himself," he growled 
 one day. 
 
 " I have no desire to be," I replied curtly. " I intend 
 to be a composer, like yourself."
 
 192 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 The maestro had copied with his own hand, and hung in 
 my room, a number of Schumann's precepts, which he 
 required me to recite to him every morning. 
 
 " The education of the ear is the main thing. Compel yourself 
 from the very first to distinguish the major and minor keys and 
 each different note. The bell, the tap upon the window-pane, 
 the clock, try to observe the sounds they give. 
 
 " There are people who imagine they can accomplish anything 
 if their fingers are supple and dexterous, and who devote several 
 hours a day all their lives to mechanical exercises. This is the 
 same thing as if a man forced himself to repeat the letters of the 
 alphabet more and more rapidly every day. Employ your time 
 more profitably. 
 
 " As regards time, the playing of many musicians reminds one 
 of the gait of a drunken man. Guard against taking such 
 performers as models. 
 
 " Always play as if a master were listening to you. 
 
 " Never play a piece without having read it over carefully 
 beforehand. 
 
 " Never play poor music. Never even listen to it unless com- 
 pelled to do so. 
 
 " You must not only have your piece at your fingers'-ends, but 
 be able to hum it without the instrument. 
 
 " Never play the light, ephemeral music of the day. Time is 
 too precious. A man would have to live a hundred lives to 
 master only that which is good. 
 
 " Consider it a heinous offence to change, omit anything in, or 
 introduce any new ornamentation into, the music of good com- 
 posers. It is the worst outrage you can commit against art. 
 
 " Choose for your associates persons who know more than 
 you do." 
 
 Though he paid very little attention to such matters
 
 MY VOCATION REVEALS ITSELF AT LAST. 193 
 
 (he himself lived as frugally as a hermit in the desert), he 
 must have noticed that I was growing thinner as I grew 
 taller; for after my room-rent was paid, my pittance of 
 three roubles a month barely sufficed to keep body and 
 soul together. 
 
 " I have found you some work," he said to me one day. 
 " You boys think of nothing but eating and drinking. Go 
 to Naboth, the son of Isaac, on the Slaviahski Percoulak. 
 He is the biggest thief in Moscow, but he will give you 
 something to satisfy your gluttony." 
 
 I did not thank him, for he had a horror of anything 
 that resembled a compliment ; but after school I hastened 
 to the Slavianski Percoulak, a dark, narrow street not 
 very far from my lodgings. 
 
 Naboth, the son of Isaac, proved to be a little, old, jaun- 
 diced, crooked man, who wanted me to copy some music 
 for him at the rate of a kopeck a page. The compensation 
 was so small that I protested ; and after a good deal of 
 parleying, Naboth finally consented to furnish the paper. 
 I then learned that he expected me to cover both sides of 
 the page for the munificent sum of one kopeck. I spoke 
 my mind, however, to such good purpose, that he at last 
 agreed to pay me a kopeck for the upper as well as the 
 lower side of the sheet. By working like a galley-slave, 
 I succeeded in earning a grievenik or two a week; but 
 even that was not to be despised that hard winter. 
 
 I copied the different parts for the orchestra of one of 
 the leading theatres, and the work soon began to interest 
 me very much. 
 
 " An opera must be beautiful," I remarked one evening. 
 
 "Have you never been to the theatre?" asked the 
 maestro. 
 
 13
 
 194 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Well, here is a ticket for this evening's performance ; 
 but don't tell me anything about the fools you will hear 
 there. You will see a set of squalling women and idiotic 
 tenors raising themselves on the tips of their toes in order 
 to screech the louder. You '11 think all this delightful, 
 though, so clear out ! " 
 
 I needed no urging. In a few moments I was seated in 
 the theatre. The opera to be given that evening was 
 Gounod's " Faust." 
 
 When the first strains of the enchanting overture re- 
 sounded through the hall, I sat as if petrified. Never had 
 my imagination in its wildest flights conceived of anything 
 like this. Tears sprang to my eyes ; I could see only as 
 through a mist. The many instruments seemed the ma- 
 jestic voice of a divine being. I listened with breathless 
 eagerness. The curtain rose. I beheld Faust; a rich, 
 mellow voice was heard in melancholy invocation ; the far- 
 off song of the villagers died away in the distance ; then, 
 Mephistopheles appeared with his cutting sarcasms ; I 
 shuddered with Faust, with him, too, I trembled at the 
 vision of Marguerite. 
 
 After that everything was one ecstatic dream. A 
 famous foreign cantatrice sang. Her voice of flute-like 
 purity penetrated to the inmost depths of my soul. I 
 longed to listen to her forever, to create for this angelic 
 voice melodies worthy of it. In the depths of the little 
 stall which I occupied alone, the tears streamed down upon 
 my clasped hands, and I murmured again and again like 
 one bereft of reason, " I, too, am a musician ; I, too, am 
 a musician ! I, too, must compose music, or I shall die ! " 
 
 When the performance ended amid the frenzied ap-
 
 MY VOCATION REVEALS ITSELF AT LAST. 195 
 
 plause of the audience and a shower of costly exotics 
 lavished upon the idol of the hour, I was so intoxicated 
 with delight that I wonder I did not throw myself on the 
 stage in my enthusiasm. I left the theatre without even 
 knowing it, and roamed about the streets most of the 
 night. It was not until the first gray light of dawn ap- 
 peared in the east that I returned to my little attic-room, 
 and threw myself on the bed to dream on and on with 
 wildly staring eyes. 
 
 A thousand vague fancies tumultuously crowded my 
 brain. All those voices which were ever murmuring and 
 sighing, and singing and wailing in my ears I would un- 
 prison them ; I would give them form, make them audible 
 to others as well as to myself. What I, too, would write 
 would also delight the world long after my hand had 
 crumbled into dust; and perhaps some day, while listening 
 to the melody I had created out of nought, some human 
 being would bless the day when Dmitri Terentieff came 
 into* the world. 
 
 Oh, how assiduously I would study now ! How thor- 
 oughly I would master the rules that had seemed so 
 difficult and tiresome before ! for I was resolved that my 
 music should be correct ; I would not allow myself to write 
 until I was sure of myself. 
 
 The rough outlines of a musical composition were 
 already formed in my mind. I would call it " The 
 Steppes." It would be a pastoral, a Russian pastoral. 
 In it should be depicted the peacefulness of our long 
 winter days. One should hear the whistling of the 
 wind, the shrill cry of the wild-fowl ; then the soft rus- 
 tling of the spring foliage ; the weird, wild songs of our 
 peasants, the gallop of wild horses in the distance, and
 
 196 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 high above all the wind, the now tempestuous, now 
 gentle, wind of our plains, which so often haunted my 
 dreams with its strange, wild harmony. 
 
 I seized a sheet of music paper, it belonged to Naboth, 
 but I did not even think of that, and began to write with 
 feverish haste. I forgot where I was, and was writing like 
 a madman, when the door suddenly opened, and Nepomuk 
 Raabzinsky appeared on the threshold. 
 
 "What the devil are you doing this morning?" he 
 exclaimed. " Is it possible that you Ve become deaf? " 
 
 "I I did not hear you," I replied, hastily concealing 
 my paper under a pile of note-books. 
 
 " Is this a holiday? " 
 
 "No. Why do you ask?" 
 
 " Because it 's after ten o'clock, and here you sit doing 
 nothing ! " 
 
 I uttered an exclamation of dismay, and seizing my cap, 
 ran at the top of my speed to the Gymnasium. I rapped 
 at the little door, the large doors were closed at this hour 
 of the day, and the bearded face of Gavruchka appeared. 
 
 " I forgot myself this morning," I panted. " Will you 
 let me in so I can make my excuses to the assistant 
 superintendent? " 
 
 " Ah, ha ! my little Terentieff, so you Ve got caught at 
 last ! " sneered the janitor, with savage glee. " Let you in? 
 Not if I know myself. See, there 's your name on the tardy 
 list. Two more escapades of this kind, and we '11 be well 
 rid of you. Clear out now, clear out, you young rascal ! " 
 
 And still sneering, he slammed the door in my face. 
 
 As soon as I entered the schoolroom that afternoon I 
 was summoned into the presence of M. SareVine, who 
 questioned me closely as to the cause of my absence
 
 DMITRI DEEP IN HIS MUSICAL STUDIES.
 
 MY VOCATION REVEALS ITSELF AT LAST. 199 
 
 that morning. I would not have told him the true reason 
 for anything in the world, so I merely gave as an excuse 
 that I had failed to notice the time. 
 
 The assistant superintendent did not seem at all satisfied 
 with this reason. He told me rather sternly that I must 
 have a better excuse to offer in future, and reminded me 
 that a third violation of the rule would result in my expul- 
 sion. I withdrew; and for a long time afterward Gav- 
 ruchka was in the habit of sneering as I passed in and out, 
 and of exclaiming, 
 
 " Only twice more, Terentieff ! only twice more ! and then 
 you '11 be turned out, turned out of Saint- Vladimir ! " 
 
 The idea seemed to cause him infinite satisfaction. 
 
 From that day a two-fold existence began for me. Out- 
 wardly I was unchanged. I came and went as before. I 
 prepared my translations, wrote exercises, solved problems 
 in algebra and geometry, committed lessons to memory, 
 interchanged more or less cutting taunts with Capiton 
 Strodtmann, and talked with Serge about everything but 
 the subject uppermost in my mind; but I did all these 
 things with strains of sweetest music ever ringing in my 
 ears. My body was there, but my soul was far away, 
 floating lightly upon the sea of melody that floods the en- 
 tire world for those who have ears to hear it. I followed 
 this secret melody untiringly; I noted the sound of the 
 wind and rain, the fall of the snow, the voices of men and 
 of animals ; all around me I heard the music of the spheres. 
 
 My craving for music had become so intense that I 
 spent every penny I could spare in attending the opera or 
 concerts. How I blessed my student's cap, that secured 
 me admission to such places of entertainment at one-fourth 
 of the reeular rates !
 
 200 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 I became familiar with the masterpieces of many great 
 composers that winter, and had the pleasure of listening to 
 many famous musicians. Once it was Rubenstein. After 
 the concert, the young men harnessed themselves to his 
 carriage to drag him home. It is needless to say that I 
 was one of the first to volunteer. 
 
 I did not dare to confide my secret to Nepomuk Raab- 
 zinsky. I feared his stinging ridicule and sneers too 
 much ; besides, he pretended rather to despise our national 
 music, and I did not feel inclined to show him what I had 
 written until it would furnish less food for criticism. 
 
 I, on the contrary, greatly admired the productions of 
 our native composers, for they seemed so deeply imbued 
 with the very spirit of our country, climate, and people. 
 Our music differs from that of other nations unquestion- 
 ably; it is less scientific perhaps; but it possesses a pecu- 
 liar charm of its own, and is remarkably original in its 
 character. Indeed, its individuality is so marked that it 
 can hardly fail to astonish foreigners, and incur a great 
 risk of being entirely misunderstood. But what does that 
 matter? we Russians comprehend it; and my sole am- 
 bition, then and now, is to win a place among the famous 
 composers of my native land. 
 
 But in the midst of these delightful dreams, I became 
 painfully conscious that the year's schooling for which 
 Nicholas Ivanovitch had paid in advance would soon expire, 
 and how was I to continue my course of study? I cer- 
 tainly could not hope to do so on my present earnings. I 
 resolved to consult Serge, who was an eminently practical 
 and sensible fellow, and who might be able to suggest some 
 feasible plan.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A SURPRISE. 
 
 ON leaving the class-room the following morning I 
 took Serge aside. 
 
 "I want to consult you," I said, with some embarrass- 
 ment. 
 
 " About what ? " 
 
 "About something that will surprise you perhaps. Do 
 you think it would be possible for a boy of my age to 
 earn a tolerably large amount every month ? " 
 
 Serge reflected a moment before he replied. 
 
 "That depends," he replied, at last. "The boy's posi- 
 tion in life would have a good deal to do with it. If he 
 belongs to the working class, I not only think, but know, 
 that he could earn his living. As for a large amount of 
 money " 
 
 "But that is not the question," I interrupted. "To 
 speak frankly, I am the person referred to. Do you 
 think it would be possible for me to earn, not enough to 
 pay for my food, I am doing that now, but to pay my 
 tuition at the Gymnasium as well ? " 
 
 "You seem surprised," I continued. "You can hardly 
 have supposed that I am a Croesus " (casting a glance at 
 my shabby garments), "but you probably have no idea 
 how little I possess, simply nothing."
 
 202 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 "But you've attended school up to this time," began 
 Serge, " and " 
 
 I gave him a brief account of my former life and of 
 the situation in which I found myself on my arrival in 
 Moscow. 
 
 "What! is it possible tWat you are the young Dmitri 
 mentioned in poor M. Berezoff's will? " exclaimed Serge, 
 who had listened to my story with evident interest. 
 
 " I cannot doubt it. " 
 
 "That explains the mystery," remarked Serge, thought- 
 fully. " Do you know why Strodtmann hates you, for 
 it is evident that he does hate you ? " 
 
 "No, upon my word! I have never been able to ex- 
 plain his animosity." 
 
 "Well, I think I understand it now I know who you 
 are. Of course you are not aware that Strodtmann' s 
 father a German, who married a Russian wife was 
 for a long time the manager of M. Ber6zoff's large estates. 
 Nicholas Ivanovitch was one of the most kind-hearted of 
 men, and seemed- especially after the loss of his brother 
 to be greatly attached to young Strodtmann, who was 
 born in M. Bere"zoff's house while his father was living 
 there. In fact, it was generally supposed that he would 
 make him his heir, and I believe Capiton grew up in this 
 belief. M. Ber^zoff having died without a will, he in- 
 herited nothing. Now, I reason in this way : Strodtmann 
 considered himself M. Berezoff's heir, so he regards you 
 as the cause of his disappointment, though you derived no 
 benefit from it; consequently he hates you, and shows 
 his hatred on all occasions." 
 
 " Oh, do you really think such a thing is possible ? " I 
 exclaimed, greatly agitated.
 
 A SURPRISE. 203 
 
 "Very possible, especially when one knows the person." 
 
 " But I am in no way accountable for his disappoint- 
 ment. " 
 
 "No, but he cannot forgive you for having uncon- 
 sciously frustrated his hopes. You may believe what I 
 say. I know Capiton. We have been schoolmates all 
 our lives, and I understand his disposition perfectly. 
 But you must come and see my father. He is sure to 
 take an interest in you if you tell him your story, for 
 M. Ber^zoff was one of his best friends. So forget your 
 bashfulness, and come home with me. I should be very 
 glad to have you." 
 
 I shrank from the idea of presenting myself at M. 
 Kratkine's house, but finally allowed myself to be per- 
 suaded, and accompanied Serge to his pleasant home. 
 
 M. Kratkine was evidently an extremely practical man. 
 He perceived all the pros and cons of a question at a 
 glance; but the most prominent trait in his character 
 seemed to be determination. His mind once made up, 
 he was resolved to reach the goal at any cost ; and when 
 Serge introduced me to him, I no longer marvelled at 
 the forty examinations. Neither forty examinations, nor 
 a hundred, nor a thousand, would induce Arcade Pan- 
 lovitch Kratkine to deviate one hair's breadth from the 
 path he had marked out for himself. 
 
 M. Kratkine received me very kindly, and was good 
 enough to devote several minutes of his valuable time to 
 the consideration of my case, when Serge explained it to 
 him. 
 
 "There is but one way out of the difficulty," he re- 
 marked at last, " Dmitri Fedorovitch must be allowed 
 to finish his course of study at the Gymnasium free of 
 charge. "
 
 204 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 "Do you mean a scholarship, sir?" I stammered. "I 
 fear I am not prepared " 
 
 "Then you must prepare yourself," said M. Kratkine, 
 in a tone that admitted of no reply. " I am on the 
 best of terms with the superintendent, Ivan Alexandro- 
 vitch Perevsky. I will take all the steps necessary, and 
 it will be an easy matter to secure such a favor for the 
 son of Terentieff. His name is sufficient recommenda- 
 tion. You must not spare yourself, but work hard and 
 gain a good stand in your class. I am sure Serge will 
 take pleasure in assisting you, if necessary. He has 
 often spoken of you before, and always in the highest 
 terms. Now, boys, I must get to work, so au revoir. 
 Dmitri F6dorovitch, you have learned the way here now; 
 you must not forget it. No dawdling now, Serge. You 
 know you have a Greek exercise to prepare for to-morrow, 
 and Greek is not your forte." 
 
 We left the study, and I thanked Serge for having in- 
 troduced me to his father, though I was overwhelmed at 
 the thought of the ordeal before me. And my music? 
 Should I be obliged to give that up? The mere idea of 
 such a sacrifice appalled me ; but I determined to keep up 
 a brave heart, and leaving my schoolmate to struggle with 
 his Greek, I turned my steps homeward, secretly resolved 
 to conquer. Arcade Panlovitch's good intentions must 
 not be frustrated by my stupidity. 
 
 I was obliged to pass the Gymnasium on my way Home, 
 and as I was crossing the square with my hands in my 
 pocket, my head well up in the air, and my books under 
 my arm, I was almost knocked down by an enormous dog 
 that bounded suddenly out upon me, barking and wag- 
 ging his tail in the most frantic manner, and licking my 
 face with his long red tongue.
 
 DMITRI'S MEETING WITH SNAP AND PORPHYRE.
 
 A SURPRISE. 207 
 
 Words can scarcely describe the astonishment I felt 
 when I recognized in this half-frenzied animal my good 
 dog Snap, Snap, draggled and muddy and emaciated, 
 but yet the same dear old Snap, the most faithful, affec- 
 tionate, and demonstrative of dogs and friends. 
 
 " Snap, my good dog, my brave comrade, is it really 
 you ? Where did you come from ? How glad I am to see 
 you again! But how came you here ?" I cried, covering 
 him with caresses, while my cap fell to the ground on one 
 side of me, and my pile of books on the other. 
 
 As if to answer my question, Snap relaxed his hold and 
 darted toward the main entrance of the Gymnasium. It 
 was nearly dark; but in the dim light I faintly discerned 
 a human form crouching on the step, and rushing toward 
 it, I beheld Porphyre, Porphyre thin, gaunt, and in 
 rags, with no trace of the rosy cheeks and majestic pro- 
 portions of former days, but Porphyre, unquestionably. 
 
 I remained mute with astonishment for a moment, then 
 recovering my powers of speech, exclaimed, 
 
 "You here! why, all Sitovka must have decided to visit 
 Moscow this evening. How are you ? Is your father here 
 too ? It was certainly very kind in you to bring Snap. 
 How glad I am to see you, old fellow ! But you don't 
 look like yourself. What is the matter; are you ill? " 
 
 For Porphyre did not attempt to answer a single one of 
 my questions, but gazed at me with a half-dazed expres- 
 sion, and seemed to have considerable difficulty in hold- 
 ing himself up. 
 
 "I 'm not ill," he at last said feebly, as if his parched 
 lips would hardly allow him to speak; "I 'm hungry." 
 
 I fumbled in my pocket, and finding a few kopecks, 
 dragged Porphyre to a little shop near by, where I or-
 
 208 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 dered some rolls, a bit of cheese, and a big glass of beer 
 for him. Snap, too, having shown unmistakable signs of 
 hunger, I bought a plate of bones and broken pieces for 
 him. He devoured these in the twinkling of an eye ; and 
 the two pilgrims having been thus refreshed, we left the 
 shop. 
 
 " Now do tell me where you dropped from ? " I cried 
 eagerly. . 
 
 Porphyre cast a wondering glance around him. 
 
 " Yes, I ' m here at last," he said in a tone of profound 
 conviction. 
 
 " Yes, I see you are ; but how is it that you happen to 
 be here ? Where did you come from ? " 
 
 "From Sitovka, of course!." 
 
 "How stupid you are! Of course you came from Sit- 
 ovka, but how did you come, and why? Did Agathon 
 Illarionovitch bring you?" 
 
 " No, it was Snap. " 
 
 "Snap?" 
 
 " Yes. You see he has done nothing but run away ever 
 since you left. The first time we caught him and shut 
 him up in the chicken-yard, though he scared the hens 
 nearly to death ; but he jumped over the fence and ran off 
 again. We caught him and chained him, but he broke 
 the chain and escaped again. We caught him this time, 
 too, and shut him up in the stable ; but he would neither 
 eat nor drink. He cried and howled incessantly, day and 
 night. At last somebody left the stable door open, and 
 again he broke loose and ran away. I started off in pur- 
 suit of him, and as I 'd been just as miserable as he ever 
 since you and Sacha went away it gave me the horrors 
 to see your house all shut up when I found him at last,
 
 A SURPRISE. 209 
 
 and he looked at me imploringly, as much as to say, ' Do 
 come with me,' I couldn't refuse him; so here I am." 
 
 " Why, Porphyre, I had no idea you cared so much for 
 me as all that ! " I cried, deeply touched. " But what will 
 your father and mother say? Did you come on foot? " 
 
 " How else could I have come ? I walked every step 
 of the way, and a long way it is from Sitovka here, I 
 can tell you." 
 
 " But how did you manage about food ? " 
 
 Porphyre gave an eloquent shrug of the shoulders. 
 
 " It was pretty poor picking, but here I am," he added 
 with evident complacency. 
 
 " Have you come to stay ?" 
 
 "Of course. Do you suppose I've any idea of tramp- 
 ing back again ? " 
 
 "But, my good fellow, don't you know that I haven't a 
 penny I can call my own ? I can hardly offer you a place 
 to lay your head. I really have no idea what I am going 
 to do with you," I exclaimed in profound dismay. 
 
 Porphyre shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Nonsense! we'll manage somehow or other," he re- 
 plied philosophically. "You're glad to see us, eh?" he 
 added confidently. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " I exclaimed, in all sincerity. " In fact, I 
 never thought I should be half so glad to see you again, 
 old scariip!" (giving him a friendly poke in the ribs); 
 " but if you fancy that partridges drop down from the sky 
 here already roasted, you 're very much mistaken. And 
 Snap eats as much as any two men. I 've no idea what 
 I shall do about it, I '11 be hanged if I have! " 
 
 "Isn't Sacha with you ?" inquired Porphyre, with un- 
 ruffled calmness. 
 
 14
 
 2IO- SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 "Sacha with me? I don't even know whether she's 
 in Russia or not." 
 
 "Vodka's become lame," continued Porphyre, compos- 
 edly. " They put too much of a load on the wagon one 
 day, and he fell down. He would n't even try to get up. 
 I seated myself on his head to keep him from kicking, and 
 he bit me. He 's a hateful beast." 
 
 "Poor Vodka! I'm surprised you didn't bring him 
 too." 
 
 " I really believe I would if I had thought of it," replied 
 Porphyre, in such perfect good faith that I couldn't help 
 laughing in his face. 
 
 "Well, we had better go home now and go to bed. 
 To-morrow we '11 talk matters over, and see what is to be 
 done." 
 
 " I '11 go to the Gymnasium with you, if you wish," said 
 Porphyre, with an air of profound resignation. 
 
 " You flatter yourself that they would be only too de- 
 lighted to have you, I suppose," I retorted, with an irony 
 that was entirely lost upon him. 
 
 I conducted my two unexpected guests to my humble 
 garret ; and Porphyre no sooner set eyes on the bed than 
 he flung himself upon it, and was snoring hard before I 
 had time to say a word. 
 
 As for Snap, he caught sight of my sheepskin coat 
 lying in a corner, and, after turning himself around two or 
 three times, stretched himself out upon it with a long sigh 
 of relief, and was soon sleeping the sleep of the just. 
 
 When I started for school the next morning, Porphyre 
 was so tired that I would not allow him to get up. 
 
 "Stay here with Snap," I said, "and when 1 return at 
 noon, we '11 have a talk."
 
 A SURPRISE. 211 
 
 " But but I should like to have some breakfast." 
 
 " So should I, you incorrigible gourmand ! But you 
 must learn not to make an idol of your stomach, my dear 
 fellow. We will breakfast when we can! " 
 
 Poor Porphyre ! he fancied it was only necessary for 
 him to be hungry to see his breakfast appear forthwith. 
 
 Meanwhile I was becoming more and more unable to 
 see how I was going to get out of this scrape. Serge no- 
 ticed my preoccupied air, and when he questioned me, 
 I told him of the unexpected arrival of my old friends, 
 but said nothing about the embarrassing position in 
 which it had placed me. 
 
 "What a queer fellow he must be," Serge exclaimed, 
 when I had finished. "I would like to see him. You 
 must be delighted to have your dog with you again. Is 
 he a handsome dog? " 
 
 " Superb ; as big as a calf, and perfect in every respect. " 
 
 "Let's go and see him, will you?" proposed Serge, 
 whose curiosity had been excited by my eulogiums. 
 
 I assented of course. Serge was probably surprised at 
 the wretchedness of my quarters, but he showed no signs 
 of it. He praised Snap in the most enthusiastic manner, 
 and declared he had never seen his equal at any of the 
 numerous dog-shows he had attended. 
 
 When Serge left us, I hastened to that old rascal 
 Naboth, and by dint of threats, entreaties, and promises, 
 succeeded in inducing him to advance me a rouble, and 
 a silver rouble at that. At first he would give me only a 
 paper rouble; 1 but I pleaded so eloquently that he finally 
 yielded, though his lamentations when he parted with 
 his money equalled those of the prophet Jeremiah. 
 
 1 A paper rouble is only about half the value of a silver rouble.
 
 212 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 I rushed home with bread and milk for all three of 
 us. We had a good meal, and Porphyre told me all the 
 Sitovka news without missing a single mouthful. 
 
 All the people down there were entirely ignorant of 
 my misfortunes, and really seemed to believe that I was 
 living in the lap of luxury. They thought it was only 
 necessary to come to Moscow to succeed there; and I 
 suspect that it was a vague hope of becoming one of the 
 great of the earth (like myself), as well as his sincere 
 affection for me, that brought Porphyre to Moscow. I 
 had no little trouble in convincing him that I had little 
 or nothing to live on, and that he would be obliged to 
 work, exactly as I did. Unwilling to take upon myself 
 the responsibility of his sojourn in Moscow, I did my 
 best to persuade him to return to his native village; but 
 he absolutely refused to listen to me; and we finally con- 
 cluded that we would content ourselves with writing to 
 the pope, explaining the mysterious disappearance of his 
 progeny, and hinting that some of the products of the 
 farm, such as smoked ducks and geese, hams, sausages, 
 and even salt fish, would be very acceptable. 
 
 While we were talking, Snap had greedily devoured 
 his share of the bread, soaked in a little milk, and was 
 now sleeping soundly at my feet, his honest heart filled 
 with content at having found his master again. When it 
 was time to return to the Gymnasium, Porphyre insisted 
 on accompanying me ; but the dread Gavruchka stopped 
 us at the gateway, and would not allow my companion to 
 set foot in the courtyard. He even added that if Por- 
 phyre and the dog ever appeared in his presence again, 
 he would give them a thrashing they would remember as 
 long as they lived.
 
 A SURPRISE. 213 
 
 I then learned that Porphyre had gone straight to the 
 Gymnasium the evening before, and boldly asked the jan- 
 itor where I could be found. That worthy considered 
 that any person who ventured to ask information out of 
 school hours was guilty of an atrocious crime. He cer- 
 tainly must be mad ! So he drove Porphyre away ; but my 
 friend, with his wonted assurance, established himself on 
 the steps leading up to the main entrance, whence all the 
 janitor's abuse had been powerless to dislodge him, so 
 Gavruchka's wrath was excited to the highest pitch. On 
 seeing the culprit again/ he manifested such furious anger 
 that I could not help laughing. 
 
 "I '11 get even with you, Terentieff, you little viper!" 
 he exclaimed, shaking his fist at me. " He laughs best 
 who laughs last, remember that." 
 
 '"Take care, Gavruchka; anger is the worst thing pos- 
 sible for a man of your size ! You lose your temper, the 
 blood rushes to your head, and apoplexy carries you off 
 in the twinkling of an eye." 
 
 "Wait a little and something will carry you off, too, 
 you young vagabond ! The clock has struck. Come in, 
 or I '11 give you a mark for tardiness." 
 
 " I say, Porphyre, you be at the gate waiting for me 
 when school is out; and take care not to lose Snap in 
 the streets." 
 
 "Yes, yes," growled Gavruchka, closing the door and 
 locking it with a great noise, " take care of the dog, you 
 barefooted rascal, you good-for-nothing scallawag, etc. " 
 
 For our janitor's vocabulary was rich in opprobrious 
 epithets, and already he manifested the same deadly 
 animosity toward Porphyre as toward us, his natural 
 enemies.
 
 214 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 Several days passed, during which Serge and I devoted 
 most of our time to the rather thankless task of showing 
 Porphyre the wonders of Moscow. I say thankless, be- 
 cause his utter indifference astonished us. He expressed 
 no admiration for anything; nothing surprised him; he 
 surveyed the most magnificent buildings with a cold and 
 critical eye. Serge, who was quite naturally very proud of 
 Moscow, it being his birthplace, was greatly piqued; 
 but nothing could overcome Porphyre's indifference. 
 
 I introduced my old friend to Nepomuk Raabzinsky, of 
 course; but as ill luck would have it, during his very first 
 call he had been so unfortunate as to seat himself on the 
 maestro's violin, and that gentleman, highly incensed, 
 had turned us both out, and forbidden Porphyre ever to 
 enter his presence again. 
 
 We endeavored to find some employment for the young 
 peasant, but in vain; and I was beginning to think all 
 three of us were doomed to die of starvation Snap was 
 becoming thinner every day when we at last discovered 
 a means of support for Porphyre. 
 
 The porter of the house adjoining the Berezoff mansion 
 was so often at his door that I had become tolerably well 
 acquainted with him ; and as I was asking him one day if 
 he could tell us of any work we could get to do, a happy 
 thought struck him. 
 
 He was getting old, and suffered greatly from rheuma- 
 tic pains in his joints. His situation, like that of all his 
 brother-porters, obliged him to watch outside eight hours 
 every night, and this duty had become so onerous to him 
 that he had decided to employ an assistant ; so he asked 
 Porphyre to watch half the night for him in exchange for 
 his supper. He was to come early in the evening, eat
 
 A SURPRISE. 215 
 
 his supper, and sleep by the stove the first four hours of 
 the night ; then the porter was to wake him, and lend him 
 his overcoat and boots, and, thus protected from the cold, 
 my friend was to spend the rest of the night pacing the 
 sidewalk in front of the house. Old Ivan promised to 
 give him a rouble a month for his services, besides his 
 supper. 
 
 It is needless to say that we accepted his offer very grate- 
 fully; and as Snap got into the habit of keeping Porphyre 
 company, Ivan's wife took a fancy to the dog, and always 
 saved him a plate of bones or scraps, so my guests soon 
 began to look like themselves again. Indeed, Porphyre 
 grew so stout that his clothes became much too small 
 for him ; and his arms and legs began to look very like 
 sausages, so tightly were they encased in their coverings. 
 
 In about three weeks a letter came from Porphyre' s 
 father. After a well-deserved reproof that brought tears 
 to the eyes of the culprit, the good pope forgave his son, 
 at the same time announcing that his godfather, the rich 
 farmer, touched by his forlorn situation, we had drawn 
 a picture that would have melted a heart of stone, had 
 consented to assume the expenses of his education at the 
 Gymnasium. This news delighted us beyond measure; 
 and the following morning I took Porphyre to our super- 
 intendent, who admitted him very willingly, and Por- 
 phyre, with the red cap proudly perched on his long thick 
 locks, made a triumphal entry into the Gymnasium under 
 the very eyes of the indignant janitor. 
 
 Porphyre, having been taught by his father, a man 
 who would tolerate no nonsense, and who was not in- 
 clined to spare the rod, was a very fair scholar. He 
 maintained a very creditable stand in his classes, espe-
 
 2l6 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 cially in mathematics, and I soon became so accustomed 
 to having him with me, that I quite forgot he had not 
 always been there ; and when I glanced up from my book 
 and beheld my friend's round good-natured face, and saw 
 Snap stretched out full length on the floor, it almost 
 seemed to me that I was still in Sitovka. 
 
 It cost me quite an effort to recall where I really was, 
 and to remember that never, never again would my eyes 
 meet the loving gaze of my father !
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE VAMPIRE. 
 
 L 
 
 PORPHYRE'S admission to the Gymnasium was a 
 veritable godsend to Grichine. My old friend had 
 scarcely set foot in the school-room before the very spirit of 
 mischief seemed to take possession of Grichine, who with 
 every indication of intense surprise opened his little eyes 
 to their widest extent and riveted them wonderingly upon 
 the fat face of priest Agathon's son. But Porphyre was 
 not a boy to be disconcerted by such a trifle. Settling 
 himself comfortably in his seat, and resting one elbow 
 on his desk, he proceeded to give his undivided atten- 
 tion to M. Golovetchov's lesson. In vain Grichine in- 
 dulged in the wildest contortions, snapped the joints of 
 his fingers, and snorted like a locomotive, answering as 
 if in a dream when his turn came, with his eyes still 
 fixed upon Porphyre's face; my friend did not take the 
 slightest notice of him, and the only result of this panto- 
 mime was to excite our mirth and bring down upon us a 
 stern reprimand from our professor. 
 
 At recess it was still worse. Grichine kept close at 
 Porphyre's heels, imitating his every movement, and giv- 
 ing such a ludicrous and exaggerated imitation of his 
 manner and speech that Platon Gregorov nearly died of 
 laughter.
 
 218 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 But such persistent efforts could hardly fail to attract 
 Porphyre's attention sooner or later; and one day while 
 Grichine was shambling along country fashion, with his 
 legs far apart and his head hanging on his breast, Por- 
 phyre suddenly turned and caught him in the very act. 
 
 He gazed at his tormentor coolly for a moment, as a big, 
 good-natured ox would gaze at a troublesome puppy who 
 was snapping at his heels; then he seized him by the 
 collar, and giving his hand a sudden twist, was evidently 
 about to hurl him to the other end of the playground, 
 when the little monkey wriggled loose from his hold, and 
 falling at Porphyre's feet, and clasping his hands as if in 
 abject terror, exclaimed, 
 
 " Pardon me, noble stranger. If I have not been able 
 to restrain my admiration on beholding you, you must 
 impute my boldness solely to the intensity of my emo- 
 tion. Spare me, and above all, spare my blouse! Its 
 age is venerable, and its misfortunes worthy of the most 
 profound respect. My mother a poor widow has often 
 mended it for me; but if your powerful hand descends 
 upon it, its fate is sealed." 
 
 " Why do you want to make such a fool of yourself ? 
 Let me alone, will you?" said Porphyre, with a half- 
 bewildered air. 
 
 " Yes ; but first let me embrace you. Your magnan- , 
 imity overpowers me, O most noble of scholars ! Por- 
 phyre, dear, dear Porphyre Agathonovitch, for they tell 
 me that is your august name, beloved model of my 
 soul!" 
 
 And falling on Porphyre's neck, he clung there, nearly 
 smothering him in his embrace; then flying off on an- 
 other tangent, he constituted himself the champion of
 
 THE VAMPIRE. 219 
 
 the new-comer. He valiantly defended him from all 
 aggression, even that of a purely imaginary nature; ex- 
 plained all our rules and customs at great length ; gave 
 him most fantastical histories of our professors and stu- 
 dents, in short, he strove by a thousand cunning devices 
 to completely turn the head of this poor country lad. 
 
 I did not interfere; first, because Porphyre was cer- 
 tainly big enough and strong enough to defend himself 
 if necessary; and secondly, because Grichine's pranks 
 were so amusing that one really could not take him to 
 task for them ; besides, in spite of his countrified ways, 
 Porphyre really possessed too much natural shrewdness 
 to place much confidence in his new friend's absurd 
 statements. 
 
 I recollect one scene that illustrates the relations 
 which existed between them quite clearly. 
 
 Porphyre was suffering with a severe cold in his head, 
 and his violent fits of sneezing and coughing had an- 
 noyed M. Perekoff very much during a demonstration. 
 The poor boy made an heroic effort to keep quiet ; but 
 after an interval of about five minutes the demon of in- 
 fluenza got the upper hand of him again, and he made the 
 very walls tremble by another terrific paroxysm of sneez- 
 ing. To crown his misfortunes, he had forgotten his 
 pocket handkerchief. 
 
 "This is intolerable!" cried our professor, who was 
 very quick-tempered ; "one cannot hear one's self think. 
 If you have such a cold, you had better go home. " 
 
 " I shall be all right in a minute, sir, only I atchee 
 only I have no atchee ! atchee ! no hand atchee ! 
 oh, atchee! atchee! no handkerchief, sir." 
 
 " Lend him a handkerchief, one of you ! " exclaimed
 
 220 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 M. Perekoff, in evident disgust. " I can't be interrupted 
 in this way any more. Go on, Serge Arcadievitch. " 
 
 Serge resumed his demonstration, and I hastily passed 
 Porphyre my handkerchief. He buried his face in it, and 
 emerged some minutes afterwards purple in the face, but 
 much more calm. He magnanimously offered to return 
 the handkerchief; but I declined his offer with horror, so 
 he crumpled it up into a little wet ball, and slipped it 
 into his pocket. 
 
 Before ten minutes had elapsed, his situation had be- 
 come as desperate as ever. He made frantic signals to 
 me ; but I was not in the habit of carrying handkerchiefs 
 about by the dozen, and I had none to offer him. M. 
 Perekoff was beginning to frown again, and to be- 
 stow ominous glances on the offender, when Grichine, 
 with great deliberation, drew a big, ragged, half-soiled 
 handkerchief from his pocket, and spreading it slowly 
 out before him, surveyed it with a thoughtful air. 
 
 "Lend it to me, Grichine, I beg of you," whispered 
 poor Porphyre. 
 
 Grichine shook his head. 
 
 "People don't lend such things as this for nothing," 
 he replied sententiously. 
 
 "Oh atchee! atchee! atchee! oh, do, like a good 
 fellow!" 
 
 "I'll lend it to you for a consideration," answered 
 Grichine, deliberately. 
 
 " Oh, hurry ! do hurry ! " 
 
 " I '11 lend it to you on condition you pay me a kopeck 
 a blow," responded the inexorable Grichine. 
 
 "But I've only got two kopecks," pleaded Porphyre, 
 disconsolately.
 
 THE VAMPIRE. 221 
 
 "A kopeck a blow, or you sha'n't have it," repeated 
 Grichine, stoutly. 
 
 " Here, take them then, " said Porphyre, wildly, throw- 
 ing him his two kopecks; then seizing Grichine's hand- 
 kerchief, and revolting against such tyranny, he used it 
 vigorously, not once or twice, but a dozen times, in quick 
 succession. Grichine tried to tear it from his grasp, but 
 the other clung to it with the energy of despair; they 
 kicked each other stealthily but viciously under the 
 benches, and would certainly have been sent from the 
 room if the session had not ended just then. 
 
 Grichine's habit of extorting money for any and every 
 thing had won him the name of the Miser Student ; but 
 strange to say, he was neither hated nor despised, as would 
 have seemed natural under the circumstances; in fact, 
 there was something so frank and pleasant about him, 
 and he smiled so slyly and good-naturedly when his ex- 
 tortions were alluded to, that no one really felt any 
 grudge against him. 
 
 Capiton Strodtmann took advantage of this propensity 
 on the part of his fellow student, and hired him to write 
 all his exercises for him, a fact which, by the way, re- 
 sulted in a startling difference between his written les- 
 sons and those which he recited; and though Strodtmann 
 chose to regard Grichine rather in the light of an em- 
 ploye, and spoke to him a little haughtily at times, he 
 was really too useful to him to be treated with contumely. 
 As for Grichine, he troubled himself very little about 
 Capiton's opinion or conduct, and openly avowed a pro- 
 found contempt for him. 
 
 Sometimes Porphyre and I went to Goltchov's pension 
 to get our dinner, when we were tired of living on bread
 
 222 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 and milk, or dry bread, and on his days of opulence we 
 usually met Grichine there. The pension was patronized 
 by the pupils of several public and private schools, who 
 took their meals at a long table presided over by a repul- 
 sive old German woman. She spoke an almost unintel- 
 ligible jargon, and nearly poisoned us by her horrible 
 cookery. I don't know where she got the meat she 
 placed before us, but the mere sight of it often turned 
 my stomach. 
 
 At Sitovka I had always devoured my big chunk of 
 black bread with the best of appetites, and quaffed clear 
 cold water with never-failing delight; but the meat old 
 dame Goltchov set before me inspired me with uncon- 
 querable disgust, and her sour, husky bread only in- 
 creased my distaste for her viands. By some secret 
 understanding with her butcher doubtless, the meat she 
 doled out to us with a parsimonious hand consisted 
 almost entirely of quivering, half-viscid fat, accompanied 
 by the tiniest possible scrap of lean ; but it was an un- 
 written, though no less rigorously observed, law among 
 the successive generations of students who had occupied 
 seats at her table, that it was a disgrace to like fat, and 
 a positive crime to eat it, and 'any person who so far for- 
 got himself as to yield to such a depraved taste was re- 
 garded as an unnatural monster; so the plates usually left 
 the table bordered with scraps of fat, especially on the 
 days we had boiled beef for dinner. Implicit obedience 
 to this regulation entailed no sacrifice upon me, however, 
 for the mere sight of this oily substance spoiled my appe- 
 tite, and I was frequently obliged to leave the lean meat 
 as well as the fat. 
 
 It was soon after my arrival in Moscow, and during
 
 THE VAMPIRE. 22$ 
 
 one of my first meals at Dame Goltchov's table, that 
 Grichine Yegov chanced to occupy a seat opposite me. I 
 noticed that neither of his neighbors at table exchanged 
 a word with him, and no one took the slightest notice of 
 him when he spoke. This surprised me a little; but I 
 probably should not have thought much about it, had not 
 my neighbor, a student at another Gymnasium, given me 
 a terrific poke in the ribs when I replied to some remark 
 that Grichine chanced to make. 
 
 I looked at him in astonishment. 
 
 "Are you talking to him ? " he whispered. 
 
 "Of course. He 's a classmate of mine, and a capital 
 fellow. Why should n't I speak to him? " 
 
 "Nobody takes any notice of him here." 
 
 "What is that to me?" 
 
 "But he 's completely ostracized, I tell you." 
 
 " Why ? What has he done ?" 
 
 "Watch him after dinner and you '11 see for yourself. 
 Look at him now. Ugh! doesn't it make you sick?" 
 
 For Grichine was devouring a big piece of fat with 
 great apparent relish. I saw nothing so very reprehen- 
 sible about that, however, all tastes not being the same, 
 fortunately. 
 
 " Is that all ? " I inquired of my neighbor. 
 
 "You'll see," he replied gloomily, at the same time 
 lifting up his hands with a gesture of horror. 
 
 My curiosity being excited, I paused at the door before 
 going out, and furtively watched Grichine, as my neighbor 
 had bidden me. He was the last to leave the table, and 
 imagine my surprise, when I saw him rise, and drawing a 
 brown paper-bag from his pocket, walk around the table, 
 and adroitly push into it ail the cold, greasy scraps left
 
 224 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 on the plates ! He did this deliberately, and apparently 
 without the slightest desire to conceal the deed ; in fact, 
 there was an expression of stern, almost ferocious deter^ 
 mination on his usually good-natured face. 
 
 " How can you be willing to do such a disgusting 
 thing ? " I said to him rudely, as he came out. 
 
 He looked up at me. There was a strangely patient 
 and gentle expression in his eyes, an expression of res- 
 ignation, almost, it seemed to me ; but I had scarcely had 
 time to notice it when his eyes began to sparkle with all 
 their wonted mischievousness. 
 
 "It's a great secret, but I'm going to tell you," he 
 replied. 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
 "Well, my good fellow, you mustn't tell anybody, of 
 course, but I 'm a vampire," he answered, with a mock- 
 ing laugh. 
 
 And he rushed off, awaking all the echoes with his 
 shrill whistle as he ran down the street. 
 
 I stood gazing after him in profound astonishment. 
 I was completely mystified by his words; afterwards, 
 when his conduct was explained, I rejoiced that I had not 
 ignored and insulted my schoolmate like the others. 
 
 Whenever I dined at Goltchov's, and Grichine was 
 present, I was obliged to witness the same disagreeable 
 sight; and Porphyre, who had a true country lad's horror 
 of doubtful meats, really believed what Grichine had said, 
 and regarded him as a sort of ghoul. 
 
 Meanwhile, the examination for the scholarships had 
 taken place. After a month of arduous study, I ventured 
 to compete, and just succeeded in passing the examina- 
 tion. I even succeeded in beating the most stupid of my
 
 " WHAT DELIGHTFUL HOURS I SPENT ALONE AT THE ORGAN ! "
 
 THE VAMPIRE. 22 7 
 
 competitors by half a point. But even half a point has 
 its charms when it is on the right side, as I discovered 
 when I received notice of my appointment, and ran to 
 thank M. Kratkine, who had so kindly made my needs 
 known to our superintendent, and who seemed delighted 
 at my success. Serge, too, was much pleased. 
 
 "I'm glad you 're a free scholar," he remarked, "for 
 now you '11 have to work hard to repay the debt of grati- 
 tude you owe the Gymnasium, if for no other reason." 
 
 "But I do work, I assure you." 
 
 "Oh, yes, you study fairly well; but you're too 
 whimsical. You don't like this, and you don't like that. 
 If one really desires to succeed, one must apply one's 
 self faithfully to every branch of learning. Your literary 
 style need be none the worse because you take a little 
 more pains with your mathematics." 
 
 Serge certainly practised what he preached; and since 
 that time, I have often had good reason to acknowledge 
 the wisdom of his counsels. 
 
 But how I hated those tiresome figures ! And yet, the 
 art to which I had secretly consecrated my life is one, 
 above all others, in which mathematical accuracy and 
 precision are indispensable. 
 
 I was secretly going on with my music. Nepomuk 
 Raabzinsky, satisfied with the progress I had made in 
 theory, had at last allowed me to lay my hands on the 
 piano. After that, I soon became able to give expres- 
 sion to the musical fancies that were ever flitting through 
 my brain. Subsequently, he gave his choir almost en- 
 tirely into my charge ; then what delightful hours I spent 
 alone at the organ in the great dimly' lighted church, 
 lost in that divine frenzy of which the poet speaks !
 
 228 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 My first year at the Gymnasium ended uneventfully 
 but satisfactorily; and the following autumn, after a 
 vacation devoted entirely to music but for an occasional 
 tramp of five or six hours through the surrounding coun- 
 try, I passed into the Second Class, in company with my 
 fellow students of the first division of the Third Class.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A RACE ON SKATES. 
 
 ABOUT three months after I entered the Second Class, 
 I was sitting alone in my room, trying to fix my 
 mind on a perplexing problem in algebra, when the door 
 opened noisily, and Porphyre rushed in like a cyclone. 
 
 " Have you heard the news ? " he cried. " We 're going 
 to have a glorious lark in about a fortnight. Count Brov- 
 sky, an old student of Saint-Vladimir, is going to give us 
 a grand entertainment on the ice, with skating races be- 
 tween the different classes, and all sorts of games, and a 
 fine lunch. Oh, it makes my mouth water just to think 
 of it! Won't it be glorious! And, Dmitri, you must 
 certainly try for the Second Class prize. I 'm sure you 'd 
 win it. It's as good as yours already. Hurrah, we'll 
 show these Moscow dandies what skating is ! " 
 
 Porphyre was beside himself. The prospect of such 
 festivities had completely turned his head. His enthu- 
 siasm communicated itself to me; and throwing aside 
 my books, we rushed to the Gymnasium to hear further 
 particulars. 
 
 "You'll compete, of course," Serge remarked on our 
 next meeting. " We are counting on you. Strodtmann, 
 too, is one of our best skaters, but I confess I should n't 
 be sorry to see you beat him."
 
 230 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 "I'd rather like it myself," I replied ; "but I fear it 
 would interfere too much with my work." 
 
 " Nonsense ! all the rest of us will be in the same boat, 
 so why need you care if you don't have your lessons quite 
 as well as usual ? You ought to go into training at once. 
 You 're our champion, don't forget that ! " 
 
 To tell the truth I did not require much urging; and 
 after that, almost every leisure moment was spent on 
 the ice, either alone or in company with Porphyre, 
 Kratkine, and other classmates. We talked of nothing 
 but skates and skating, the respective merits of each 
 method of skating furnishing food for continual and 
 excited controversy. 
 
 Capiton, who was the chosen champion of a portion of 
 the Second Class, was equally assiduous in his efforts to 
 get himself in the best possible form; but though he 
 skated with remarkable ease and grace, I did not feel 
 very much afraid of him ; for I had been born with skates 
 on my feet, so to speak, and the long distances I had 
 skated while in Sitovka prevented me from being troubled 
 with many misgivings regarding the result of the race. 
 
 Among Capiton' s most devoted followers were Savine 
 Podnier and Luvine, two rather disagreeable fellows, 
 and slighting remarks and sly innuendoes were greatly in 
 vogue with them. Strodtmann was often heard to mut- 
 ter something about " intruders, " and "ragged clowns," 
 and "country bumpkins," epithets which I felt sure 
 were addressed to Porphyre and me ; but I could not vent 
 my wrath upon him for the very good reason that having 
 asked Capiton fairly and squarely if he was talking to 
 me, he feigned the greatest surprise. 
 
 "What on earth is the matter with you, Terentieff ? "
 
 A RACE ON SKATES. 
 
 he exclaimed. "What do you mean? I wasn't even 
 thinking of you." 
 
 " If you have anything to say to me, say it and have 
 done with it," I retorted, much irritated by his manner. 
 
 " I 've no idea what you're driving at, my dear fellow. 
 Haven't I always shown the greatest indulgence for your 
 your countrified manners and bucolic innocence? " 
 
 " If you want to settle it with fists, you '11 find a bucolic 
 strength in mine that won't be much to your liking, per- 
 haps," I answered savagely. 
 
 "Don't lose your temper; it is very silly in a lad like 
 you," he said in his most supercilious tones. "Under- 
 stand once for all, that gentlemen do not indulge in fisti- 
 cuffs in the first place, and in the second place, they 
 never fight without a cause." 
 
 I turned my back upon him. 
 
 "These rustics really hope to win," said Podnier, sneer- 
 ingly, as I moved away. "What insatiable creatures they 
 are! We poor Moscow boys won't know where to go 
 soon." 
 
 "Oh, you needn't be troubled about that," responded 
 Capiton. " I can beat each and every one of them, even 
 skating backwards." 
 
 " You 're able to, unquestionably," replied Podnier; " if 
 it were a matter of mending rags or sawing wood like a 
 peasant, I shouldn't be so sure of your success." 
 
 This was a very transparent allusion to an incident 
 that had occurred only a few days before. Podnier had 
 chanced to pass our door just as I was sawing some wood 
 for Ouliana Petrovna, who had complained that the load 
 she had purchased was too long for her stove. 
 
 I despised this warfare of pin -pricks too much to con-
 
 232 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 descend to reply; so I contented myself with jostling them 
 roughly and glowering upon them as we re-entered the 
 Gymnasium, looking them full in the face all the while. 
 They pretended not to notice it, however, and it was not 
 until after I had passed them that they ventured to in- 
 dulge in a sneering laugh. 
 
 The eventful day dawned at last. The sun rose clear 
 and bright, and the day promised to be superb. Old 
 Ivan had excused Porphyre from duty the night before, 
 and the latter improved his opportunity so well that I 
 had considerable difficulty in stopping his snoring and 
 inducing him to get up the next morning. 
 
 "There's plenty of time," he muttered, turning his 
 face to the wall. 
 
 "Get up! get up this minute, or I '11 go without you; " 
 I exclaimed, giving him a vigorous thump in the back. 
 
 I succeeded in getting him out of bed at last, but 
 another difficulty then presented itself. He absolutely 
 refused to make a toilet suited to the occasion, pleading 
 as an excuse that the water was too cold. In fact, I had 
 just broken a thick coating of ice in the bucket. 
 
 " But it is the best way in the world to warm yourself, 
 you simpleton ! " I cried. " Only milksops bathe in warm 
 water ! It does very well for infants and women. Come, 
 enough said, wash and have it over with ! " 
 
 I was obliged to use force, however; and as he con- 
 tinued to rebel, I took the soap and rubbed it in his face. 
 As he struggled with me, half laughingly, half angrily, he 
 got the soapsuds into his eyes, and when he tried to dry 
 them, he nearly blinded himself by using his big gray 
 caftan instead of a towel. 
 
 We were obliged to go to Saint-Vladimir first, to get
 
 A RACE ON SKATES. 233 
 
 our skates, which had been left there the afternoon before. 
 I had devoted nearly an hour to repairing mine, for I had 
 polished the steel until it shone like silver, and bought 
 a new set of strong but pliable straps that cost me ten 
 kopecks. I was resolved to leave nothing to chance in 
 this contest. 
 
 The Gymnasium seemed to be the place of rendezvous 
 for all the students that morning, and Gavruchka turned 
 crimson with wrath on seeing the noisy crowd appear. 
 
 "What do you want now, you gang of good-for- 
 nothings?" he cried. "Is there no such thing as get- 
 ting rid of you? I thought I should have some peace 
 this morning, but you keep on coming." 
 
 "Gavruchka is jealous because he isn't going to the 
 fete ! " shouted one of the little fellows. We all laughed, 
 and the janitor went back to his room, grunting and 
 growling. 
 
 It took some time for all the boys to find their skates 
 in the chaos that reigned in the little building where we 
 kept our balls, bats, and sleds ; but they finally succeeded, 
 and we then set out in high spirits for Count Brovsky's 
 country-place. 
 
 " I think you 've got a better chance to win than Strodt- 
 mann," cried Grichine. "You 're more supple than he is, 
 and longer winded ; everybody says you '11 beat him, and 
 I 'm sure I hope you will. I don't like Capiton." 
 
 " Nor do I, I assure you. " 
 
 We soon reached the gateway of the Count Brovsky's 
 chateau, an immense building surrounded by extensive 
 and beautifully kept grounds, in the suburbs of Moscow. 
 The large number of private carriages already in the 
 grounds indicated that a large crowd would be in attend-
 
 234 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 ance; the lofty trees, covered with snow and icicles, made 
 a beautiful picture as they stood out against the blue sky; 
 and what a pleasure it was to breathe this pure, crisp air! 
 I was in the best of spirits ; and Serge and Porphyre, who 
 were walking beside me, shared my good humor. 
 
 Suddenly we paused with an exclamation of delight on 
 beholding the lake, a sheet of smooth, glittering ice 
 extending as far as the eye could reach. Count Brov- 
 sky, our superintendent, and our assistant superintendent, 
 and a number of their friends met us on the margin of 
 the lake. 
 
 The rules that were to govern the races were explained 
 to us. Our class was to begin. 
 
 A list of the students who intended to compete for the 
 Second Class prize had been given to Count Brovsky by 
 our superintendent. There were thirty of them in all, 
 and they were to be divided into two parties of fifteen 
 pupils each, chosen by lot. Each party was to skate, 
 separately, a distance of two versts, the end of the course 
 being marked by a stake. The victor in the first party 
 was then to compete with the victor in the second party, 
 and would be obliged to win two races out of three 
 each race one verst only to secure the prize, a hand- 
 some bicycle given by the count. 
 
 The drawing began. Capiton found himself in the first 
 division ; so did Porphyre and Serge ; Grichine, Podnier, 
 and I in the second. 
 
 The first division formed into line. 
 
 "Are you ready? " cried the count. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 A shot resounded, and the fifteen competitors were off. 
 At first they seemed to maintain an unbroken front ; then
 
 A RACE ON SKATES. 235 
 
 to form a sort of curving ribbon on the smooth surface 
 of the ice; but this soon resolved itself into tiny black 
 specks here and there. Then I saw Serge take the lead, 
 then Porphyre, then Serge again; but finally Capiton, 
 easily recognized by his red shirt and tall stature, darted 
 by him like a flash of lightning, and reached the goal 
 first. 
 
 " Hurrah ! hurrah ! Bravo, Strodtmann ! bravo ! " shouted 
 the crowd. 
 
 " Now the others ! " cried the count. 
 
 We formed in line; again the signal sounded. We 
 were off. 
 
 I skated rather slowly at first, in order to reserve my 
 strength for the last moment. Grichine, Platon Gregorov, 
 and Podnier led the party by turn. When we were within 
 half a verst of the goal I quickened my speed very consider- 
 ably, and flying by the others, reached the stake fully three 
 seconds before Podnier. 
 
 My victory was applauded as enthusiastically as Strodt- 
 mann's had been. As my schoolmates had predicted, we 
 were to be the contestants in the final race. 
 
 It is customary for the two competitors to shake hands 
 before starting, as a proof that the race is to be conducted 
 in an honest and friendly manner. 
 
 I extended my hand to Capiton, looking him straight 
 in the eyes all the while, but he scarcely touched it, and 
 I noticed that he seemed to shun my gaze. 
 
 Plenty of time to take breath was allowed us ; then the 
 signal was again given. 
 
 For half a verst we skated along side by side; then 
 Capiton pushed on with so much energy that he got about 
 eight feet in advance of me, and this distance between us
 
 236 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 remained unchanged until we came in sight of the stake; 
 then, exerting my strength to the uttermost, I passed my 
 opponent, and reached the goal first, he following close 
 at my heels. 
 
 Frenzied shouts of " Bravo, T6rentieff, bravo ! Hurrah, 
 hurrah ! " greeted my victory. My classmates crowded 
 around me, slapped me on the back approvingly, shook 
 hands with me again and again, and waved their caps 
 wildly in the air during the five minutes allowed us for 
 rest. We were all greatly excited ; Capiton alone was 
 silent and gloomy, and Porphyre told me afterwards that 
 he heard him mutter, "I'll beat that peasant if I have to 
 die for if." 
 
 Again we took our places side by side, Strodtmann and 
 I. My blood was coursing swiftly through my veins now. 
 A wild longing for the fray and for success therein ani- 
 mated both body and soul; I could see nothing but the 
 glittering ice, with that tiny black speck in the distance, 
 and my opponent beside me, quivering like a race horse. 
 To win, to win, to reach the goal first that was the 
 only desire I had in the world now! 
 
 Capiton soon pushed on ahead, as in the previous race ; 
 but I quickly overtook him, and we flew along side by 
 side, almost touching each other. We were less than a 
 hundred yards from the stake when the strap on my left 
 skate broke, the skate turned, I stumbled and nearly fell. 
 I regained my equilibrium, however, by a violent effort; 
 but Capiton had already rounded the stake. I reached it 
 two seconds afterwards, and I noticed he was as pale as 
 death. 
 
 He was declared winner of the second race. 
 
 " It seems very strange when you took care to put new
 
 A RACE ON SKATES. 237 
 
 straps on your skates, and grease them too," cried Por- 
 phyre. "They were in perfect order." 
 
 " It is all the more strange as I saw your skates in the 
 hands of a certain person late yesterday afternoon at the 
 Gymnasium," said Grichine, significantly. " I knew them 
 by the old-fashioned curve at the end of the runner." 
 
 " Come, come, don't let us waste any more time talk- 
 ing. I must either exchange skates with you, or fix 
 these ! " I cried, trembling with impatience. 
 
 " Take mine ! " exclaimed Serge, eagerly. 
 
 "I fear they're a little too short. Yours, Porphyre, 
 would be too large. I should much prefer to keep mine, 
 as I am used to them. Has any one a stout piece of 
 twine? Quick! I have no time to lose." 
 
 Fortunately Porphyre' s capacious pockets contained a 
 large assortment of strings. I hastily seized one, and 
 the five minutes allowed us for rest had not elapsed be- 
 fore I had my skate fastened securely, if not elegantly, 
 upon my foot. This time the longing for victory was 
 mingled with a feeling of intense anger. Grichine's 
 words had aroused a terrible suspicion in my mind. 
 
 Could it be that Capiton had done such a contemptible 
 thing as to change or cut my skate-strap in order to make 
 me lose the race ? It seemed inconceivable ; but what was 
 the meaning of his pallor and averted gaze just now? 
 
 "We'll have it out now," I said, looking him full in 
 the face as we stood side by side, ready to start. " My 
 strap won't break this time." 
 
 He gave me a strange glance in reply, and the signal 
 was again given. 
 
 Strodtmann started off with a fierce energy that augured 
 ill for his ultimate success. I followed him swiftly, with
 
 238 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 a heart burning with anger and disdain. Two minutes 
 had not passed before his speed began to slacken ; I saw 
 that he was becoming tired, and I passed him without 
 much effort. A recollection of his boast occurred to 
 me; and wishing to teach him a lesson, I whirled myself 
 around, and skated the rest of the distance backward, 
 facing him, and reached the goal, while Capiton, livid 
 and breathless, was still fifty feet from it. 
 
 A mighty shout rent the air. " Hurrah ! hurrah ! Bravo ! 
 T6rentieff, bravo ! " cried hundreds of voices. My school- 
 mates rushed forward to congratulate me, and Count 
 Brovsky shook hands with me and complimented me very 
 highly as he presented the much coveted bicycle. 
 
 I was not allowed to take part in any of the other races, 
 of course ; but I remained to witness them, as well as the 
 games of divers kinds that followed. Capiton, on the 
 contrary, disappeared immediately after our race. 
 
 " I am almost certain that it was Capiton who played 
 that dastardly trick on you," remarked Serge. "Gri- 
 chine saw him with your skates in his hands yesterday 
 afternoon in the tool-house. He pretended he had taken 
 them by mistake, the miserable sneak! " 
 
 In spite of the delight I very naturally felt at my suc- 
 cess, this suspicion annoyed me very much; but I resolved 
 to think no more about it, and to divert my mind. I 
 turned my attention to the crowd that had assembled to 
 witness the races. Some of these people skated remark- 
 ably well, and among the most agile and graceful was a 
 young girl about twelve years of age, handsomely dressed 
 in a gray velvet pelisse trimmed with costly fur. Her 
 dainty head was enveloped in a veil of silvery gauze that 
 concealed her face, as she darted about as lightly and
 
 A RACE ON SKATES. 239 
 
 swiftly as a bird. An old white-haired gentleman seemed 
 to have charge of her. 
 
 Suddenly she left her companion, and came straight 
 toward me, stopping short directly in front of me. 
 
 "Is it possible you don't know me, Dmitri? " she cried 
 joyfully. 
 
 " Sacha ! Is it you ? Oh, how glad I am to see you 
 again ! Whoever would have thought it ? " I exclaimed, 
 giving her a hearty hug. " My dear little sister, how 
 came you here? " 
 
 "We arrived in Moscow only two days ago. Mme. 
 Lebanoff was obliged to leave Nice very unexpectedly to 
 come and see an aunt who was extremely ill. She died 
 before we reached Moscow, however, so we shall soon 
 leave for St. Petersburg. How delighted I was when 
 you won the race, dear Dmitri ! I recognized you the 
 minute I set eyes on you, and I cried, 'Vive Terentieff! ' 
 until my throat ached." 
 
 " How you 've grown ! " I exclaimed, still holding her 
 hands and gazing at her with wonder. " You 're quite a 
 fashionable young lady now. Have you forgotten me, 
 Sacha?" 
 
 "Forgotten! when not a day passes that I don't think 
 of you and the happy years we spent together! " 
 
 "Will you remain here some time? " 
 
 "Only a few days, I am sorry to say. But Mme. 
 Lebanoff has promised me that she will go with me to 
 M. Berezoff s to see you. I felt sure, too, that you 
 would be here to-day, so I begged Arcadion Semono- 
 vitch to bring me. Come and speak to him," she added, 
 dragging me toward the old gentleman. 
 
 I perceived now that Sacha' s companion was Mme.
 
 240 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 Lebanoff' s cousin, the aged baron who had accompanied 
 the princess on her visit to our house. I bowed rather 
 awkwardly, for his aristocratic air intimidated me a little; 
 but he greeted me quite kindly, and told Sacha she 
 might have a long talk while he chatted with some of his 
 friends. 
 
 As we skated slowly along together, I told Sacha of 
 the disappointment and trials that had attended my arri- 
 val in Moscow, the sudden death of my benefactor, and 
 my consequent isolation and poverty; and also how I had 
 managed to get on without assistance from any one. 
 
 "My poor Mitia! and I have been thinking all the 
 while that you were living comfortably and even happily 
 in the house of your father's old friend! " sighed Sacha. 
 
 "Oh, I 'm getting along finely now; but at first it was 
 such a comfort to me to know that you were safe with 
 Mme. Lebanoff ! But now tell me about yourself. Are 
 you happy? Do you like your new life? You look like 
 a princess in a fairy tale," I exclaimed admiringly. 
 
 " A queer princess ! " laughed Sacha. " Ah, Mitia, if 
 you knew how long it took, and how hard it was to trans- 
 form me into a young lady, to teach me to keep my hair 
 smooth, and my hands white, and always wear a veil to 
 prevent my face from chapping, and above all, never to 
 go out alone ! And then to hear from morning till night : 
 ' Sacha, take care of your hands, and your hair, and your 
 figure, and your complexion.' Oh, dear! it makes me 
 shudder to think of it even now! But Mme. Lebanoff 
 and dear old Arcadion S^monovitch were so kind and 
 good to me when I was dying of homesickness, that I 
 began to love them, too, but not as I loved you and your 
 father, Mitia! Ah, no! Oh, how far away from you I
 
 DMITRI AND SACHA AT THE ICE CARNIVAL.
 
 A RACE ON SKATES. 243 
 
 seemed when I was in Paris and Nice, and other places 
 you scarcely knew the name of, my poor brother." 
 
 I asked Sacha a thousand questions. She told me how 
 difficult it had been for her to accustom herself to her 
 new life; how strange foreign cities had appeared to her; 
 and how Mme. Lebanoff had called her "a little sav- 
 age," and laughed at her because she could not learn to 
 dissolve her sugar in her tea, instead of nibbling it, peas- 
 ant fashion ; then the misery her maid had caused her by 
 making her change her dress several times a day, and by 
 squeezing her poor little feet into narrow shoes. She 
 told me, too, about her travels, how beautiful Paris 
 was, with its smooth streets, bordered with trees; and 
 how she had thought of me at the opera; and how the 
 gardener at the Lebanoff villa in Nice had just sent the 
 princess a bouquet of violets almost as big as a cart 
 wheel, etc. 
 
 We were still talking with all our might when Arca- 
 dion Semonovitch rejoined us. 
 
 "Come, Alexandra, it is time to go now," he said 
 pleasantly. 
 
 "Oh, ditdouchka? already?" 
 
 " But you and your friend have been talking nearly an 
 hour, and it is considerably past Mme. Lebanoff 's tea- 
 time. Your friend must come and call on you. We are 
 at the Hotel Ralemine on the Boulevard Tversko'i, and 
 the princess will be glad to see you," he added courte- 
 ously, turning to me. 
 
 "Oh, dear Arcadion, can't he come now?" pleaded 
 Sacha. 
 
 "Certainly, my dear, if you desire it," replied the old 
 
 1 " Dear little uncle."
 
 244 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 gentleman, politely; but I fancied he did not greet the 
 proposal very enthusiastically. 
 
 Just then Porphyre, who had been watching us from a 
 distance, concluded that it would be a good time to join 
 us, so he started toward us at a high rate of speed ; but 
 just as he reached us he stumbled and fell sprawling at 
 our feet. I helped him up; he had a big lump on his 
 forehead, his nose was bleeding, and he nearly overturned 
 us in his frantic efforts to regain his equilibrium. 
 
 "I always was the most unlucky fellow alive," he mur- 
 mured penitently, as he and Sacha shook hands. 
 
 "You are the same Porphyre, I see," she said, a little 
 mischievously. "Come, we must go now." 
 
 She led the way to the carriage. It is needless to say 
 that I shrank from the thought of confronting the prin- 
 cess, but I could not disappoint Sacha. 
 
 The baron motioned me to enter the vehicle, and I in- 
 stalled myself on the front seat. Imagine my surprise 
 when I saw Porphyre follow us into the carriage, and 
 drop heavily on the cushions, stepping, of course, upon 
 Arcadion Semonovitch's gouty toes as he did so. 
 
 " What assurance ! " I thought angrily. " My own in- 
 vitation was by no means pressing, and now this great 
 simpleton must needs force himself in, and make me 
 ridiculous ! " 
 
 The old gentleman rubbed his injured foot, making a 
 significant grimace the while. The distance to the Boule- 
 vard Tversko'f was traversed in a silence broken only by 
 Porphyre's stentorian breathing. This was a habit of his 
 when he was particularly well pleased. 
 
 The carriage stopped in front of a handsome house, or 
 rather palace. Two tall powdered footmen in scarlet
 
 A RACE ON SK4TES. 245 
 
 livery relieved us of our wrappings. I can still see 
 our shabby overcoats hanging in the hall beside Mme. 
 Lebanoff' s costly pelisse trimmed with blue fox! And 
 how well I remember the supercilious air with which the 
 lackeys watched us while we were taking off our caps ! 
 
 "Come," said Sacha; and taking me by the hand she 
 led me up a richly carpeted staircase, decorated with 
 beautiful flowering plants in handsome china vases. 
 
 On reaching the first landing Sacha paused, lifted a 
 portiere, and after hurriedly crossing a large salon, 
 ushered me into a smaller apartment, where Mme. 
 Lebanoff, attired in a loose robe nearly covered with 
 lace, was half -reclining in an immense armchair, smok- 
 ing a cigarette. 
 
 " So here you are at last, my dear ! How long you 
 stayed ! Tea was ready long ago. But who is this you 
 have with you ? " she continued, taking her long handled 
 eye-glass from her belt, to inspect me. 
 " It is Dmitri ! " cried Sacha, joyously. " I met him 
 on the ice." 
 
 "Indeed?" said the princess, lowering her lorgnette; 
 " but that other person, who is he ? " 
 
 For Porphyre's big, round face appeared just at that 
 moment between the draperies that covered the door. 
 
 "That is Porphyre. He is from Sitovka, too." 
 
 "Ah, well, give us all some tea, my dear," said 
 Mme. Lebanoff. "Sit down, young gentlemen." 
 
 I obeyed as quietly as possible ; but Porphyre dropped 
 into an armchair with a thud that made the springs creak 
 noisily. 
 
 Standing by the little table that held the tray and sam- 
 ovar, Sacha began to pour the tea. I watched her admir-
 
 246 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 ingly ; she seemed so perfectly at ease in the midst of all 
 this luxury, handling the frail and costly china as if she 
 had been accustomed to it from her birth. 
 
 A lamentable disaster suddenly disturbed this delight- 
 ful state of things. Porphyre approached the table to get 
 his cup of tea; and after bending over it and inhaling its 
 delicious aroma for a minute or two with evident delight, 
 he was about to pour it out in his saucer to cool, after 
 the Sitovka fashion, when the very calamity I had appre- 
 hended occurred. His cup fell from his ringers, shatter- 
 ing those on the table in its fall, and the tea ran down on 
 the carpet, and even splashed upon the Princess Lebanoff's 
 white dress. 
 
 In the confusion that followed, Sacha got us out of the 
 room, and I left the house more dead than alive, taking 
 Porphyre with me. On reaching the street, I gave vent 
 to my exasperation by thumping him fiercely in the side; 
 but he showed no inclination to retaliate. He only re- 
 peated again and again in melancholy, even despairing 
 tones, 
 
 " What else could you expect of a fellow who never has 
 any luck? "
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 .GRICHINE'S SECRET. 
 
 T DID not see Capiton again until I met him the following 
 day at the Gymnasium. He colored a little and ap- 
 peared a trifle embarrassed on seeing me ; but to my great 
 surprise, he came up and offered me his hand in the 
 presence of all our schoolmates, and even congratulated 
 me on my success of the previous day. His manner, which 
 had been so sneering and contemptuous heretofore, was 
 now polite, and even obsequious. It was evident that he 
 succeeded in creating the impression he desired ; that is to 
 say, in impressing such of our schoolmates as did not know 
 him intimately with the belief that he was a generous, 
 whole-souled fellow, who could rejoice at a comrade's 
 success, even at his own expense. There could be no 
 doubt that Capiton's conduct was considered worthy of all 
 praise. 
 
 As for me, I must confess that I could not change my 
 manner or my opinion so suddenly. I am not fickle 
 naturally. I honestly believe that I do not become angry 
 without good cause; but once offended it is difficult for 
 me to forgive, and especially to forget; besides, I did not 
 have much faith in the sincerity of Capiton's protestations, 
 and the only effect they had upon me was to extort a 
 slight grimace.
 
 248 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 But what was I to do? Could I, the victor, meet the 
 generous advances of the vanquished in a hostile and 
 suspicious manner? No, certainly not. And though I did 
 not entertain the shadow of a doubt that Strodtmann had 
 endeavored to insure my defeat by a trick unworthy of an 
 honorable opponent, the fact that I had won closed my 
 lips effectually. I could not gain the much-coveted prize, 
 and at the same time feel much animosity against my rival 
 for having done everything in his power to secure it for 
 himself, especially as he had not succeeded. But in 
 spite of all these arguments, and my sincere desire to 
 meet his advances cordially, I found it impossible to do so. 
 Deception is not my forte ; but though I treated him with 
 marked coldness, he did not appear to take offence. 
 Quite the contrary ; from that time, he always spoke of me 
 in the highest terms, asking my advice, and praising my 
 strength and my skill in all sorts of sports, upon all 
 occasions. 
 
 Though I detected, or fancied I detected, a tinge of 
 irony in all his compliments, I seemed to be the only 
 person who entertained any such suspicion. Even toward 
 Porphyre, the former butt of his bitter raillery, his manner 
 changed, becoming less and less contemptuous until it 
 degenerated into indifference, and they exchanged scarcely 
 three words a month. Both Porphyre and Grichine were 
 firmly convinced that my skate-strap had been cut on the 
 under side in such a way that it would yield to the slight- 
 est strain, though it appeared as strong as ever; and 
 neither of them felt the shadow of a doubt but that Capiton 
 was the perpetrator of the outrage. Although I agreed 
 with them perfectly, I begged them as a personal favor to 
 say nothing about the affair, and they complied with my
 
 GRICHINE'S SECRET. 249 
 
 request. Serge, who happened to be with me when 
 Capiton rushed up to shake hands and congratulate me, 
 never spoke to him afterwards except in the most frigid 
 manner. He did not state his reasons ; but it was easy for 
 me to divine them. 
 
 I believe Capiton understood them quite as well as I did ; 
 but " there are none so blind as those who won't see," and 
 he never betrayed by the slightest sign .his knowledge 
 that Serge Kratkine, the most highly respected and hon- 
 orable boy in the Second Class, entertained a profound 
 contempt for him. 
 
 But in spite of his pretended affability, when I suddenly 
 glanced up from my book, I sometimes found his cold, 
 gray eyes fixed upon me with such a peculiar expression 
 that I wondered what evil he could be plotting in his 
 secret heart. 
 
 It is needless to say that I had not ventured to present 
 myself at Mme. Lebanofifs house again. The sorry figure 
 we cut at our debut was not calculated to encourage a 
 taste for visiting; so I waited with no little impatience for a 
 message from Sacha telling me when I could see her 
 again. I dared not write and give her my address, for I 
 feared that we had gotten her into trouble already by our 
 uncouthness; and knowing she did not expect to remain 
 in Moscow very long, I began to fear that she had left 
 without bidding me farewell. 
 
 But on leaving the Gymnasium at noon, just one week 
 after Count Brovsky's fete, I had the pleasure of seeing 
 Sacha walking in the square opposite, accompanied by 
 Arcadion Semonovitch. The carriage was waiting for them 
 at the edge of the sidewalk, and Snap, whom all Gav- 
 ruchka's abuse could never drive from his post, was
 
 2$O SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 gambolling around them. Every day he accompanied me 
 to the Gymnasium, and stationing himself by the gate 
 waited patiently until school was dismissed. No friend 
 less dear to him than my little sister could have induced 
 him to abandon his post even for a moment. 
 
 Sacha ran to meet me as soon as I left the building, and 
 then we both walked slowly toward the baron. 
 
 " Did you get a scolding the other day?" I asked before 
 we reached the old gentleman. " How sorry I am that I 
 went to the princess's house ! It was such a pity for you 
 to get in disgrace on our account." 
 
 " But I was n't scolded, that is, not exactly. Daria 
 Alexandrovna did say that that " 
 
 "That we should never set foot in her house again?" 
 I said, laughing, for Sacha had paused for fear of hurt- 
 ing my feelings. 
 
 She nodded assent. 
 
 " I can't say that I blame her. Visitors of our stamp 
 must terrify the mistress of a house like hers. But how 
 kind Arcadion Semonovitch was to bring you here ! We 're 
 not likely to do any damage out of doors, that's one 
 comfort, unless we step on his feet." 
 
 "Yes, wasn't it good of him? You've no idea how 
 kind he is to me ! Arcadion S6monovitch, here is Dmitri, 
 still blushing with shame for his exploits of the other day." 
 
 " He was not to blame," said the old nobleman, kindly 
 offering me his hand ; " it was the other young man, it 
 seems to me. There he comes now ! " he added, prudently 
 placing himself out of harm's way behind me. For Por- 
 phyre was rushing toward us with a radiant face. A mo- 
 ment more, and he had greeted our friends without the 
 slightest embarrassment.
 
 GRICHINE'S SECRET. 2$ I 
 
 " I am very glad to see Snap again," said M. Bekou- 
 nine; " I had no idea that he would ever recover entirely. 
 You must have taken great care of him, Dmitri Fedorovitch. 
 He is a fine animal, and he does you great credit." 
 
 I told them of my dog's fidelity, Snap listening all the 
 while, with his eyes riveted on my face as if he understood 
 me and I, for my part, have never doubted that dogs 
 understand what is said to them, as well as, and even better 
 than, many human beings, and explained at the same time 
 how Porphyre happened to come to Moscow. Snap was 
 petted and caressed to his heart's content, and I could see 
 that Arcadion Semonovitch was disposed to regard my com- 
 rade with more favorable eyes. He finally invited both of 
 us to take breakfast at a restaurant with him and Sacha. 
 
 Capiton Strodtmann passed just as we were stepping 
 into the carriage, and an expression of admiration and 
 envy was very apparent on his face when he saw the 
 luxurious equipage. He was evidently much surprised 
 to see me in such aristocratic company. Had he known 
 how generous and loving the heart of my little sister was, 
 he would have had much more reason to envy me. 
 
 Aside from a few blunders on Porphyre's part, such as 
 upsetting a decanter of wine on the tablecloth, breaking 
 several plates and glasses, and burning his tongue fright- 
 fully with a cup of hot chocolate, the breakfast passed off 
 very pleasantly, After it was over, Sacha bade me a sor- 
 rowful farewell. The princess was to leave for the south 
 of France the following day, and it was impossible to say 
 when she would return to Russia. 
 
 I pause in my story to cast a hasty glance over the 
 years that followed. They were marked by no event of
 
 252 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 importance; the time seems to have glided by like a 
 dream, transporting me gradually from childhood to the 
 verge of manhood; conducting me, too, with stealthy 
 steps to the gloomy cell in which these lines are penned. 
 These pleasant reminiscences of bygone days have made 
 me for a time forget the gloomy present. But what will 
 be the end of all this? Shall I ever leave this prison- 
 house with my honor completely vindicated? Who is 
 the real culprit? Will he ever be discovered? Why am 
 I imprisoned in his stead? Will any one ever know? 
 
 And Maestro Nepomuk, Serge, Porphyre, my other 
 schoolmates, and my teachers what do they think of this 
 affair? What has become of my poor dog? Sometimes 
 I fancy I hear, even through these massive walls, a lugu- 
 brious howl which I recognize as his. Poor faithful 
 friend! what does he think of my desertion? 
 
 I am kept in solitary confinement; I see no one except 
 the jailor who brings me my coarse food, and he never 
 speaks to me. 
 
 Courage, Dmitri, courage ! Let us return to the past, 
 so I can forget my gloomy surroundings, and the clouds 
 that enshroud the future. 
 
 I have only a vague recollection of the events of the 
 last few years, however. Though I can distinctly recall 
 even the most trifling incidents of my childhood, the 
 weather on such or such a day, entire conversations with 
 my father and others, the exact appearance of such or 
 such a spot in the surrounding country, a tune played on 
 the guitar in the house of some acquaintance, and the 
 faces of my earliest friends, my last years at the Gymna- 
 sium seem void of incident. It seems to me that my
 
 GRICHINE'S SECRET. 253 
 
 comrades and I have been undergoing such a rapid change 
 that it is impossible to paint our portraits in any perma- 
 nent colors. Who is this youth in shabby attire, who 
 grows and grows as if he had no idea of ever stopping? 
 It seems to me that I know his face, and yet I scarcely 
 dare to assert that it is really I. What are his opinions 
 concerning life and society and his surroundings? Does 
 he possess a single idea in common with my former self? 
 Yes; his love of music still predominates over all other 
 sentiments; all nature breathes forth a melody to which 
 his ear never tires of listening; and as the months and 
 years transform the child into a shy and awkward youth, 
 and then into a strong, robust young man, his dreamy 
 nature undergoes no change. He still has the same diffi- 
 culty in fixing his mind on material things; that ever- 
 present x has lost none of its terrors. 
 
 He passes from the Second Class into the First, pain- 
 fully and laboriously surmounting each step leading up to 
 that terrible final examination of which he stands in such 
 mortal dread. He plods grimly on, however; but music 
 still retains her hold upon him, and if he devotes an hour 
 to his studies, an irresistible power compels him to devote 
 at least three times as long to his beloved art. The sym- 
 phony is progressing ; it is nearly finished now, and one 
 of these days I intend to submit it to my master for criti- 
 cism. What will he think of it? Is there really anything 
 in Dmitri Terentieff's music? Is it worthy to have a place 
 among the works of the great composers, or is it, alas ! 
 only the empty sound of a tinkling cymbal? 
 
 And this young man with calm thoughtful eyes and 
 frank, honest face, this young man who is always quiet, 
 sincere, and composed, who is always at the head of his
 
 254 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 class, and who excels in everything, as he once told 
 Dmitri that he ought to do? It is my friend Serge. He 
 has never passed through any rough and uncouth transi- 
 tion period, or been a prey to any unreasonable and absurd 
 fancies. Resolved to succeed in order that he might not 
 disappoint his father's hopes in regard to him, he has 
 marched steadily and firmly on toward the appointed goal. 
 How many wise counsels he has given me, though never 
 in a tone of offensive superiority ! What a kindly interest 
 he feels in everything that concerns me ! We are as united 
 in feeling as two brothers ; anything that affects me affects 
 him. He takes even more interest in my. symphony than 
 I do myself, I believe ; and he guards the secret of my 
 musical aspiration with jealous care. I confide my hopes 
 to no one but him ; and Serge would allow himself to be 
 torn in pieces rather that betray my confidence. 
 
 This big fellow with a round ruddy face, whose growth 
 suddenly ceased while he was only in the Second Class, is 
 my old friend Porphyre. I hasten to add that it is only in 
 height that he has ceased to grow. In breadth, he in- 
 creases so rapidly that it almost seems as if one could see 
 him grow. He will soon be broader than he is long; and 
 in spite of his desperate efforts to keep them together, his 
 garments, which are always too tight for him, burst open 
 with every movement, and make him the laughing-stock of 
 the school. He ought to diet himself, as I often tell him; 
 but he has a remarkably good appetite, and he won't 
 listen to me. 
 
 We still live together, and study at the same rough pine 
 table. Occasionally a sudden desire to move about takes 
 possession of us, and without saying a word, we spring 
 up and wrestle with each other until one of us bites the
 
 GRICHINE'S SECRET. 255 
 
 dust; then, refreshed by this interlude, we set to work 
 again. 
 
 Poor Porphyre ! as he grows older he seems to pay less 
 and less attention to his personal appearance. Unkempt 
 and untidy, with his boots always run down at the heel, he 
 is the very type of a certain set of students ; but he stands 
 well in his classes, nevertheless. He is very intelligent ; his 
 teachers all like him ; and he often obtains excellent marks 
 when boys who consider themselves greatly his superiors 
 are forced to hide their diminished heads. 
 
 Porphyre and Grichine are still unseparable, though they 
 tease and tantalize each other as much as ever. Grichine 
 persisted in his strange behavior at Dame Goltchov's table, 
 and for a long time Porphyre and I were the only persons 
 who would address a word to him. One day Porphyre 
 determined to solve the mystery, and stealthily followed 
 his friend, impelled doubtless by a grim desire to see a 
 human being partake of such loathsome food. 
 
 Grichine, suspecting nothing, walked on, whistling blithely, 
 until he reached a tumble-down hut in a narrow, dingy 
 street. Grichine entered the hut, and Porphyre, who was 
 close at his heels, peered through a crack in the door. 
 And what did he see? A poor, half-naked, emaciated 
 old man lying on a rude pallet, with several half-starved, 
 hollow-eyed, pale-faced children crowding around him, all 
 engaged in voraciously devouring the contents of the brown 
 paper bag. How they smacked their lips over the scraps 
 of fat ! how eagerly they licked their fingers ! how ardently 
 they wished there had been more of it! And Grichine, 
 brave fellow, stood and watched them with almost paternal 
 satisfaction. He spoke encouraging words to them; he 
 laughed and jested with them ; and they, in turn, clung to
 
 256 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 his garments and embraced him. They loved him de- 
 votedly, that was evident; and Grichine was so gay and 
 affectionate in his manner toward them that big tears 
 mounted to Porphyre's eyes, and he began to blubber, like 
 the big calf that he is. 
 
 Grichine heard him, and ran to see what was the matter. 
 He seemed overwhelmed with confusion when he found 
 that his secret was discovered ; but when Porphyre fell up- 
 on his neck, nearly smothering him in his embrace, and 
 told him, in faltering accents, how greatly Grichine's 
 depraved taste had troubled him, but how valiantly he 
 had always defended him, Grichine laughed heartily. 
 
 " No, it was n't very pleasant to be ostracized, and to 
 have people regard you as a sort of monster," he said 
 frankly ; " but, you see, I had nothing to give these poor 
 creatures. It is all I can do to support my mother ; and it 
 made my heart ache to see the poor little brats crying for 
 food. They 're not fastidious, neither is the poor grand- 
 father; and the stuff keeps them alive, after all." 
 
 The old grandfather was eloquent in his praises. He 
 told how kind Grichine had been to them, how he never 
 forgot them, and how he was always denying himself in 
 order that he might have something to give to the little 
 ones; but Grichine soon became tired of listening to 
 these eulogiums, and dragged Porphyre away. 
 
 " But I 've seen you eat fat at old Goltchov's," the latter 
 said to him. " Is it possible that you like it? " 
 
 Grichine made a frightful grimace. " I 'd rather swallow 
 live serpents," he replied ; " but I had to force myself to 
 eat it. If I had n't, it would n't have seemed natural for me 
 to take away the scraps." 
 
 Then he laughed.
 
 GRICHIXE AXD HIS PROTEGEES.
 
 GRICHINE'S SECRET. 259 
 
 " It is real funny to see the faces you all make ! " he 
 added, with a laugh ; but Porphyre notices that there is a 
 suspicious moisture in his friend's eyes, and he cannot say 
 much himself, he is too deeply moved. 
 
 He hurries home and tells me all about it. Poor 
 Grichine ! his kindness of heart and his courage touch me 
 deeply. Serge too, hears the story, and soon the whole 
 school know all about it. A subscription is started for our 
 schoolmate's proteges; each student gives what he can, 
 and a very nice little sum of money is raised. A meeting 
 is held, and the money is formally presented to poor 
 Grichine, who is overwhelmed with embarrassment, and 
 Serge preaches us a very neat little sermon. 
 
 " Grichine has set us a most excellent example. Let us 
 see that we follow it. The poorest among us has found 
 one who is still poorer, upon whom to bestow his charity. 
 He has denied himself; he has made all sorts of sacrifices, 
 and subjected himself to the most cruel ridicule, in order to 
 alleviate the sufferings of this old man and his children. 
 Shall we be less generous? \_Cries of No! No! No!~\ 
 Then let us give, each one of us, every month, a stated 
 amount, according to our means, a rouble, a grivenik, 
 or even a kopeck, to support these poor people. Let 
 them be regarded, henceforth, as wards of Saint- Vladimir ; 
 and may everlasting disgrace be our portion if we fail to 
 rescue them from their misery ! " ( Wild applause. The 
 motion is carried unanimously^) 
 
 Grichine is radiant ; and everybody else is well pleased, 
 for we are all fond of Grichine ; and Porphyre is so proud 
 of his friend that he can scarcely contain himself. 
 
 Capiton, who is rich, gives like all the others, but he 
 does it with a rather contemptuous air. He grows more
 
 260 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 and more conceited every day. He is one of the hand- 
 somest fellows in school, unquestionably. He is as tall as 
 I am ; his features are regular, his figure is admirably pro- 
 portioned, and his attire irreproachable. There is no 
 trouble about his neck and ears now, he is the greatest of 
 dandies. His jackets are the admiration and despair of his 
 classmates ; his short cane is a work of art ; his white cap, 
 for he, too, is a First Class boy now is immaculate, 
 and the pearl horseshoe he wears in his scarf makes us 
 wild with envy. A light down is visible on his upper lip- 
 In short, Capiton is nothing more or less than a paragon, 
 not in his classes, however, for his marks are deplorable, 
 and he gets a zero with appalling regularity. 
 
 But speaking of beards, he is not the only person who 
 can boast of this adornment. I drag Porphyre to the 
 window one morning, and examine him closely. Yes, 
 there is a soft yellow down on his fat cheeks ! Porphyre, 
 too, has a beard ! A fierce spirit of emulation seizes me. I 
 shave every morning ; I scratch my face cruelly, and cover 
 it with strips of court plaster. If any one asks me what 
 the matter is, I calmly reply, " Only a scratch, I did it 
 this morning while I was shaving." But too often I see, or 
 fancy I see, doubt and amusement in my questioner's eyes; 
 for in spite of all my efforts, my chin remains as smooth as 
 a hen's egg. This fact makes me gloomy and morose, and 
 I compose a funeral march that reduces Porphyre to the 
 depths of despair when I play it to him. 
 
 Meanwhile the time for the final examination is ap- 
 proaching. It is the one topic of conversation ; and even 
 the most idle of our students set to work. I neglect my 
 music ; I even forget to watch the growth of an incipient 
 mustache ; I allow myself only five hours for sleep. The
 
 GRICHINE'S SECRET. 261 
 
 chances of each and every student are eagerly discussed. 
 Serge is sure to pass, and so is Porphyre. Capiton will 
 fail, unquestionably. Platon Gregorov and I may pass, if 
 we work, but there must be no more idling. We all study 
 like mad, though the examination will not take place 
 until the beginning of the next academic year. 
 
 One morning, about two months ago, I was a little late, 
 and when I reached the Gymnasium, Gavruchka was just 
 closing the door; but I sprang forward and just succeeded 
 in getting inside before it was too late. All my papers fell 
 to the ground ; and as I was chasing the flying sheets, I 
 saw Gavruchka slam the grated door directly in the face of 
 Capiton, who had just made his appearance, panting and 
 breathless. The latter entreated Gavruchka to let him in ; 
 but the janitor was inexorable, and Capiton, taking a gold 
 imperial 1 from his pocket, held it out to him through the 
 bars. 
 
 " Here, take this, and open the door," he said insolently. 
 
 There was a profound silence. I turned and looked at 
 Gavruchka. His face was distorted with rage. For an 
 instant he seemed unable to move ; then seizing the coin he 
 flung it violently in Capiton's face. 
 
 "Wretch! how dare you offer me money?" he roared. 
 " What do you take me for? Money! money to an old 
 soldier like me ! Clear out, you abominable cur, clear 
 out, I say ! " 
 
 He was nearly suffocated with rage. Capiton's face was 
 livid. He darted a venomous glance at Gavruchka, then 
 turned and strode angrily away. I stood for a moment as 
 if petrified, for Gavruchka's distress pained me. The insult 
 
 1 A gold coin worth about four dollars.
 
 262 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 seemed to have cut him to the heart. I have never 
 mentioned the unfortunate occurrence to any one. I am 
 not even sure that Capiton knows I witnessed it. This 
 much is certain, he has never once alluded to it in my 
 presence.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE TRIAL. 
 
 I HAVE arrived at the end of my reminiscences. I have 
 frankly and faithfully revealed my secret thoughts and 
 motives, as well as my acts. I have forced myself to speak 
 honestly and sincerely, but without anger, of those whose 
 past conduct give me the right to call them my enemies. 
 My confession has been a great resource to me during the 
 depressing hours I have spent here; it has assisted me 
 wonderfully in enduring the gloom of the dreary existence 
 I have led for more than a month. 
 
 I told my teachers the truth on the morning of my 
 arrest. I repeat it here to myself, face to face with my 
 own conscience. Upon my word of honor, I am not 
 responsible for Gavruchka's injuries. I have not seen him 
 since eight o'clock that evening, the hour when he refused 
 me admission to the study hall. He seemed to be in per- 
 fect health when he closed the door behind me. I have no 
 idea how he was injured. I know nothing, absolutely noth- 
 ing of the joke that was played upon him in my name. 
 
 Though I have my suspicions in regard to the person 
 who imitated my writing, and thus cast the odium of the 
 crime on me, it does not behoove me to reveal them. The 
 task of discovering the true culprit belongs to the authori- 
 ties. I shall repeat once more what I have already said.
 
 264 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 If they insult me by doubting my word, I am resolved to 
 keep silence ; I will not so lower myself as to argue the 
 matter; I will not allow any one to doubt my word. 
 Strong in the approval of my own conscience, I will bravely 
 endure such punishment as they may see fit to inflict upon 
 me. I can endure it much better innocent than guilty. 
 
 My father, my dear sister Sacha, my old friends, you 
 would never have doubted me ! You know do you not? 
 that if I were guilty, I should be the first to admit it. 
 
 8 P. M. Ten days later. The first day of my trial is 
 over. Nothing is yet decided, but what happiness I felt 
 to-day ! It is well to suffer, if our sufferings teach us to 
 know and appreciate our friends. How I thank you all \ 
 When I heard your dear voices after the long, death-like 
 silence of my prison cell, I could hardly restrain my tears. 
 But I never once bowed my head under this unjust accusa- 
 tion ! Never did I feel more proud or composed than at 
 the hour when my only support and consolation were the 
 approval of my own conscience, and the absolute certainty 
 that my hands are unstained by this foul deed. 
 
 Poor old Gavruchka ! who ever would have supposed 
 that I was destined to suffer thus on your account? I bear 
 him no ill-will for his past tyranny, his misfortunes have 
 blotted out all remembrance of that; and he, too, if he 
 could regain consciousness, would gladly testify to my 
 innocence, I am sure of that. Who could have injured 
 the poor old man so cruelly? Why must he remain silent, 
 perhaps forever, when he may be the only person who can 
 enlighten us? 
 
 This morning I was startled by the harsh grating of a 
 key in the lock ; and by the dim light that stole through
 
 THE TRIAL. 265 
 
 my tiny window, I saw the jailer enter my cell, accompanied 
 by several soldiers. 
 
 I only took time to wash my face in the meagre supply 
 of water the prison regulations give me both for drinking 
 and toilet purposes, and to try and make my disordered 
 garments a little more presentable ; for I was still wearing 
 those I had on at the time of my arrest, and the dampness 
 of my cell and continual contact with my chains had not 
 improved them. As I was carefully picking off some 
 straws that clung to my caftan, a young soldier with a 
 pleasant face and blue eyes, seeing that such untidiness 
 was annoying to me, pulled a whisk-broom out of his 
 haversack, and brushed me vigorously from head to foot. 
 This kindly act moved me almost to tears. When one has 
 been cut off from alt intercourse with his fellows for a long 
 time, a mere trifle makes a deep impression upon one. 
 I felt my lips quiver as I thanked him. His compan- 
 ions said nothing, but no one opposed his charitable 
 deed. 
 
 The bright sunlight almost blinded me as I approached 
 the courtyard. Just as I set foot in it, a long wild howl 
 made me start ; and an animal that several guards had been 
 vainly endeavoring to restrain burst from them, and came 
 bounding toward me. It was Snap, my poor, faithful 
 dog ! And what a sorry condition he was in ! so emaci- 
 ated that his bones nearly protruded through his skin, and 
 his once bright eyes were sadly dim ! He licked my 
 hands frantically ; then, standing on his hind legs, he placed 
 his forepaws upon my breast. Oh, how delighted he 
 was to see me ! My eyes grew moist ; my heart throbbed 
 wildly ; and leaning forward, I imprinted a loving kiss upon 
 the forehead of this faithflhl friend.
 
 266 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 The soldiers seemed deeply touched. 
 
 " He has n't moved from here since you were put in 
 prison," remarked one of the guards. " We Ve done 
 everything we could to drive him away, but he always 
 came straight back. If some of us had n't taken pity on 
 you, and thrown you a few bones now and then, you would 
 have been dead long ago, eh, old fellow?" he added 
 compassionately. 
 
 A covered wagon was waiting at the door. I stepped 
 into it, accompanied by a corporal and two soldiers. Snap 
 sprang in after me, and crouched at my feet. 
 
 " Let him alone ! The poor beast won't do any harm," 
 said the corporal, stroking his big gray mustache. 
 
 We soon reached the court house, and alighted before 
 its massive portals. My dog was evidently determined to 
 follow me in; and fearing he would be ill-treated if he per- 
 ^sisted, I took off my cloak and laid it on the ground. 
 " Here, Snap, take care of it," I said to him in a tone of 
 command ; and he immediately stretched himself out beside 
 it, and placed his right paw upon it. He would die rather 
 than desert his post. 
 
 I was taken to the court-room, and conducted to the 
 bench reserved for me. 
 
 The immense hall was crowded to suffocation ; people 
 were even sitting in the window-sills. A loud murmur was 
 distinctly audible when I appeared ; but there was a mist 
 before my eyes, and at first I could not distinguish a 
 single countenance in the sea of human faces. I sank into 
 my seat almost fainting ; but a fear of appearing cowardly 
 revived me, and with a violent effort I straightened myself 
 up and glanced around me. 
 
 I see Nepomuk Raabzinsky in the court-room. He is
 
 "IT WAS SNAP, MY POOR, FAITHFUL DOG ! "
 
 THE TRIAL. 269 
 
 standing near the witness-stand, wrapped in his big black 
 cloak. He waves his hand to me, and calls out, " Courage, 
 my dear boy, courage ! " 
 
 Near him stand Serge, Porphyre, and Grichine. Platon 
 Gregorov, too, is here with a party of ladies. I see, too, 
 several of our professors, our superintendent, with a look 
 of profound sadness on his face, and M. Sarevine, sterner 
 and more grim than ever ; but I see all these familiar faces 
 as if in a dream, and am by no means sure that all this is 
 real, that I am, indeed, a prisoner, and that all these 
 persons are assembled here to see me tried. 
 
 The rasping- voice of the bailiff rises, commanding 
 silence in the court. 
 
 The judges are in their seats. The presiding judge is a 
 venerable man of imposing appearance, with a long gray 
 beard reaching nearly to his waist. On his breast glitters 
 the Cross of Saint Ann. He casts a glance over the 
 assemblage, and then gives orders for the proceedings to 
 begin. After a long discussion a dozen jurors are chosen ; 
 a thirteenth is added in case one of the others should 
 fall ill. 
 
 Then the priest, who has been standing to the left of 
 the presiding judge, and just behind his chair, assumes his 
 green stole, embroidered with gold, and administers the 
 oath to the thirteen jurors, who immediately take their 
 places in the jury-box. 
 
 The counsel for the prosecution rises. He is a very 
 stern-looking man ; and the glance he bestows on me when 
 he speaks seems to indicate that the mere sight of me fills 
 him with horror and loathing. I feel the hot blood mount 
 to the very roots of my hair under his withering gaze ; but 
 I keep my eyes fixed full on his face until the conclusion of
 
 2/0 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 his remarks. He relates all the facts connected with the 
 affair ; he lays great stress upon the death-warrant, written 
 in my hand ; he declares that there cannot be the slightest 
 doubt that I am the culprit, and demands that the severest 
 penalty of the law should be inflicted upon me. 
 
 The evident animosity of this stranger enrages me. I 
 long to reply to him in scathing terms, and vehemently to 
 assert my innocence ; but that is impossible. 
 
 " Rise, prisoner," said the presiding judge, solemnly, 
 " and swear on the Holy Book to tell the truth, the whole 
 truth, and nothing but the truth." The priest advances 
 toward me, holding up the Bible and the Crucifix ; I take 
 the prescribed oath in a firm voice, and reverently kiss the 
 sacred image. 
 
 " What answer have you to make to this accusation? " 
 
 " The same answer I made before. I solemnly declare 
 upon my word of honor, that I did not see Gavruchka 
 after eight o'clock on the evening of the i/jth of February. 
 I swear it by this sacred emblem, and by the revered 
 memory of my father. I have told the exact truth. I 
 know nothing about this affair except what I heard on 
 the morning of my arrest. I myself wrote nothing but a 
 few lines of music on the sheet of paper the superintendent 
 showed me. I never touched a hair of the janitor's head, 
 I swear it ! I tell you so, once for all, but I will not allow 
 any one to doubt my word. If you refuse to believe me, 
 I shall say no more. I have no proofs to give you. 
 Either believe me, or cease to question me; for by the 
 Holy Virgin of Kasan, I swear I will answer no further 
 questions." 
 
 There was quite a commotion in the court-room. 
 "Prisoner," said the presiding judge, severely, "you are
 
 THE TRIAL. 
 
 injuring yourself by your vehemence. It is your duty to 
 answer all questions put to you, and to give us all the 
 assistance possible, in order that justice may be done." 
 
 " I desire that much more ardently than any person 
 present. If I had committed the crime with which I am 
 charged, I should be the first to admit my guilt." 
 
 The judge frowned. " Summon the witnesses," he said 
 curtly. 
 
 The first person to testify is Apollon Samitine, the 
 policeman. He is a very tall man, and looks as stiff as a 
 ramrod in his uniform. His honest face, which is as ruddy 
 in hue as the collar of his tunic, does not indicate much 
 intelligence, and he answers the questions put to him like 
 an automaton. I can see that when Apollon Samitine 
 once gets an idea into his head, it is not easy to dislodge 
 it. He repeats the statements previously made. He saw 
 me enter the Gymnasium about eight o'clock; at midnight 
 he saw me emerge from it, wrapped in a big cloak, and 
 with the lower part of my face covered with a dark muffler. 
 
 By the judge's orders I am arrayed in this manner, and 
 the white cap worn by all the First Class boys is placed 
 on my head. Apollon identifies me. He is positive, now, 
 that I am the person he saw leaving the Gymnasium about 
 midnight. 
 
 " Prisoner, what have you to say in answer to these 
 statements? " 
 
 " I was not at the Gymnasium. I spent the evening at a 
 concert, so I am not the person he saw leaving the 
 building." 
 
 " Who were the two young men that were with you 
 when you left the Gymnasium at midnight? " asked the 
 prosecuting attorney abruptly, after a short silence.
 
 2 72 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 I felt an angry flush overspread my face, and was about 
 to make a wrathful reply; but suddenly checked myself, 
 and leaning back in my seat, I folded my arms upon my 
 breast. 
 
 "Did you hear my question, prisoner? Who were 
 those persons? " 
 
 And as I still remained silent, 
 
 "Was he not one of them?" he persisted, in a voice 
 of thunder, pointing to Porphyre. 
 
 This was too much. 
 
 " Porphyre Agathonovitch was not with me at the 
 concert," I answered scornfully. " Ask him where he 
 spent his evening, if you want to know. He is no more 
 of a liar than I am. He will tell you without any 
 circumlocution." 
 
 " Everyone knows perfectly well already," cried Porphyre, 
 in spite of the officers' endeavors to silence him. " I was 
 kept in prison two days, but old Ivan had no difficulty in 
 proving that I was asleep by his stove from eight o'clock 
 until one that night, and " 
 
 They silenced him at last by dragging him toward the 
 door; but from my seat I could not see whether they 
 succeeded in pulling him out of the room or not. \ 
 
 " You had accomplices," said the presiding judge. 
 "Name them." 
 
 " I could n't have had accomplices in a crime I never 
 committed." Then, being thoroughly exasperated, I 
 rashly add, 
 
 " Besides, even if I had, I wouldn't be base enough to 
 betray them." 
 
 The judge gave me a stern glance. 
 
 " Take care, young man," he said, with an arrogance that
 
 THE TRIAL. 2/3 
 
 made my blood boil in my veins; such insolence does 
 not become a prisoner, especially when a lad of your age is 
 addressing a man of my years. Bring in the next witness." 
 
 I nurse my wrath in silence while the next witness 
 the doorkeeper at the Porte-Doree gives her testimony. 
 She is a nervous, timid woman of an uncertain age, and 
 is evidently greatly awed by her surroundings. She be- 
 gins by stoutly declaring that she always sees every person 
 who enters the hall, and that she never fails to notice each 
 individual's face and clothing; still, she might fail to see 
 a person if the night was dark, and the person who pre- 
 sented himself at the window was very tall and kept his 
 face in the shadow. This was not the case with this young 
 man, for she had often noticed him and knew him very well 
 by sight. He often attended the concerts, and she knew 
 him, well, in the first place, because because he was not 
 a person to pass unnoticed (great hilarity"), and because he 
 only paid one fourth of the usual price of admission on 
 account of his student's cap ; but on the evening referred 
 to, she was sure that no one purchased a fourth-rate ticket. 
 If she had seen me, she would certainly have remembered 
 it, and as she did not see me,. I certainly was not there. 
 Questioned more closely, she branched out into all sorts 
 of topics foreign to the subject under discussion; she 
 weeps and maunders; but her testimony evidently confirms 
 the belief that I did not attend the concert that evening. 
 
 " Did you purchase a fourth-rate ticket at this concert? " 
 inquires the presiding judge, a little ironically. 
 
 "No, sir; I know that what I am going to say will 
 sound highly improbable: but some strange freak of 
 fancy caused me to wear a fur cap instead of my school 
 cap that evening, so I paid the full price of admission." 
 
 18
 
 2/4 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 I can see that this answer injures me very considerably 
 in public estimation. The attorney for the prosecution 
 smiles meaningly, and the doorkeeper is dismissed from 
 the witness stand, where she seems likely to prose on 
 forever. 
 
 Maestro Nepomuk is the next witness examined. He 
 speaks of me in the highest terms ; and though I am far 
 from worthy of such a tribute of esteem, it touches me 
 deeply, and I am obliged to bow my head to conceal my 
 emotion. He did not see me on the evening referred to. 
 No one saw me. I seem to have been as invisible to mortal 
 sight as if I had worn the magic ring of the fable. True, 
 I spoke to the janitor of the next house on returning home, 
 but it was after midnight, so that proves nothing. 
 
 My teachers now testify. They say I am studious and 
 good-tempered ; that I am universally regarded as a peace- 
 ably-disposed, honest lad, and the only fault they have 
 had to find with me is that I am rather absent-minded, 
 and too prone to indulge in day dreams ; that they have 
 never seen me violently angry, and that I am too proud to 
 lie. My reputation at the Gymnasium is excellent. True, 
 I have often been known to ridicule the janitor, and have 
 slight altercations with him; but this has also been the 
 case with most of the pupils of the Gymnasium. My pro- 
 fessors, however, without exception, identify the hand- 
 writing on the sheet of music-paper as mine. 
 
 Several of my fellow-students are now brought forward. 
 Serge testifies with a friendly warmth of manner that 
 moves me deeply. He is as sure of me as he is of him- 
 self, and he would have to see me pen that death-warrant 
 with his own eyes to be convinced of my guilt, since I 
 deny it. My simple word has more weight with him than
 
 THE TRIAL. 275 
 
 the strongest oath. He respects and honors me as deeply 
 as he loves me, and he will always believe in my inno- 
 cence. When he is cross-examined, he replies that the 
 handwriting strongly resembles mine, but as I declare that 
 it is not mine, he is sure that it is only an imitation. 
 
 The superintendent and assistant superintendent testify- 
 in their turn. When they were hastily summoned at dawn 
 by one of the char-boys, they found the janitor in his little 
 room, bent almost double, and to all appearance dead. 
 The assistant superintendent instantly recognized my 
 handwriting on the crumpled paper that was lying on 
 the floor near the unfortunate man ; and he could hardly 
 doubt that I was the perpetrator of this most reprehen- 
 sible practical joke, and the testimony of the policeman 
 had only strengthened this unpleasant conviction. In all 
 other respects they both did me ample justice, and de- 
 clared that I had always been a remarkably frank and 
 honest boy. Kind-hearted M. Perevsky even added, with 
 great feeling, that he would not have supposed me capable 
 of a cruel or even culpable act. Then addressing himself 
 to me, he implored me to tell the truth, and no longer per- 
 sist in the unfortunate course impulsively adopted in the 
 moment of terror that immediately followed discovery. 
 
 I cannot feel offended with him. I only shake my head 
 sadly. 
 
 "I did not do it, Ivan Alexandrovitch, I swear I did 
 not ! " I exclaim in a voice that trembles, in spite of all 
 my efforts ; for his evident grief pains me. 
 
 The Gymnasium physician gives his testimony. He was 
 summoned at seven o'clock in the morning. The comatose 
 condition in which he found the janitor indicated that the 
 cerebral congestion with which he was suffering had at-
 
 2/6 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 tacked him eight or ten hours before, or between nine and 
 eleven o'clock in the evening; Gavruchka's limbs were 
 rigid, his face much swollen, and his respiration and pulse 
 scarcely perceptible. There were no signs of violence. 
 The attack of apoplexy had been brought on, perhaps by 
 a paroxysm of rage rather than terror, caused by the 
 brutal threat against him ; in fact, the irascible disposition 
 of the victim and his intemperate habits rendered this 
 supposition extremely probable. The untiring medical 
 attention bestowed upon him had averted any immediate 
 danger : but his prostration was still very great ; his eyes 
 remained glassy, his sight and hearing were much im- 
 paired, if not entirely destroyed ; and his attempts to speak 
 were limited to a few incoherent words. 
 
 " If he ever rallies, which is by no means certain," says 
 the doctor, in conclusion, " there is good reason to fear 
 that his recovery will be but partial." 
 
 Experts then examine the death-warrant, as well as my 
 note-books, and disagree in the most lively manner. Some 
 declare that the handwriting is the same ; others cannot 
 detect the slightest resemblance. They quarrel and con- 
 tradict each other; their voices rise higher and higher. 
 They seem to be on the point of tearing each other's 
 eyes out, when the presiding magistrate curtly dismisses 
 them. 
 
 Capiton Karlovitch Strodtmann is summoned ; but he 
 fails to respond, and an officer of the court is sent out in 
 search of him. 
 
 But the short winter's day is fast drawing to a close. 
 The court adjourns ; the crowd rush out, and I am taken 
 back to my cell. 
 
 My dog was still guarding my cloak, and when I reached
 
 THE TRIAL. 277 
 
 the prison, I again intrusted the garment to his care, in 
 order to quiet his troubled heart. It will be cold to- 
 night without my cloak, but my faithful friend has suf- 
 fered long for me ; I can certainly shiver a little for his 
 sake.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 EXTRACT FROM THE MOSCOW CHRONICLE. 
 
 WE resume this morning our report of the exciting 
 trial now going on in our city. At an early hour 
 the court house was besieged by an immense throng of 
 our townspeople, all resolved to secure a place in the 
 court-room, or suffocate in the attempt. 
 
 The character of the assemblage was much the same as 
 that of yesterday, a great many ladies, and a large 
 number of students from the University, as well as from 
 the various colleges and gymnasia, being present. 
 
 At eight o'clock precisely the judges took their seats, 
 and the prisoner was brought in immediately afterwards. 
 
 We mentioned in our issue of yesterday the very favorable 
 impression made upon those present by young Terentieff. 
 His youth, the clearness and frankness of his blue eyes, his 
 tall and admirably developed form, and above all, the ex- 
 pression of honesty and integrity imprinted upon his feat- 
 ures, instantly enlisted the sympathies of the public in his 
 behalf, as was the case yesterday. 
 
 " Poor young man ! I hope he will be acquitted ! " 
 " Most assuredly that lad never told a falsehood or injured 
 any one in his life." " Don't you think he resembles 
 Prince D ?" "Oh, no, my dear, he looks more like
 
 EXTRACT FROM THE MOSCOW CHRONICLE. 279 
 
 Count W . Don't you see he has the same broad 
 
 forehead and straight nose." " I think a fellow with a form 
 like that ought to be acquitted at once. It 's a positive 
 pleasure to see a sturdy young giant like that after the 
 puny dwarfs modern education gives us." 
 
 These remarks and many of a like nature were ex- 
 changed in the court-room. Terentieff's friends crowded 
 around the dock to shake hands with him ; and everybody 
 was talking about the wonderful fidelity displayed by the 
 prisoner's dog, who has remained at the gate of the prison 
 ever since his master entered it. 
 
 Capiton Karlovitch Strodtmann, the principal witness 
 for the prosecution, was summoned. Several minutes 
 passed, but he failed to appear. A messenger dispatched 
 to his father's residence returned with the announcement 
 that he was not at home, but was supposed to be some- 
 where in the court-room. 
 
 He could not be found, however; so the attorney for the 
 prosecution arose, and in his usual spirited and masterly 
 style proceeded to sum up the testimony against the 
 prisoner. 
 
 He spoke first of Terentieff's antecedents. He alluded 
 to the difficulty the prisoner had had with the unfortunate 
 janitor, soon after his arrival in Moscow, an arrival, too, 
 which was attended with many circumstances of a sus- 
 picious nature. The accused had been of an unusually re- 
 served and taciturn disposition from childhood. He had 
 very few friends. He had none of the frank gayety natural 
 to lads of his age ; in regard to all matters connected with 
 himself he had always been strangely reticent. His light 
 had often been seen burning until a late hour of the night. 
 How was he employed? Was he so very far advanced in
 
 280 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 his studies? No, he was a young man of fair ability, but 
 not a particularly ambitious student, if the statements of his 
 teachers could be relied upon. His physical strength was 
 remarkable. Seeing him, it was very easy for any one to 
 understand how he had succeeded in overpowering an in- 
 offensive old man. The mere sight of such an adversary 
 was enough to strike terror to the heart of his aged and 
 infirm victim, enfeebled both in mind and body by the 
 severe wounds he had received while defending his country. 
 Besides, the prisoner had taken good care to apprise the 
 unfortunate man of his impending doom ; and this threat, 
 written by the prisoner's own hand, now formed' one of the 
 most conclusive proofs of his guilt. (The sentence of death 
 was here circulated among the jurors, together with other 
 specimens of the prisoner 1 s handwriting, and the jurors were 
 seen to shake their heads ominously. Intense excitement 
 prevailed in the hall.} This unfortunate youth, a prey to 
 the most dangerous and perverse instincts, should, in the 
 interests of society, be separated from the upright and 
 honorable young men to whom his very presence is an in- 
 sult. Perhaps in the gloomy depths of a Siberian mine a 
 spirit of repentance may be awakened in his soul, and 
 purify his now corrupt heart. 
 
 The speaker concluded by asking that the severest 
 penalty of the law be imposed upon the prisoner. 
 
 The presiding judge then asked the accused if he had 
 anything to say in his defence, and even urged the prisoner 
 to confess his guilt, so that an appeal to the mercy of the 
 jurors would be possible. 
 
 But Terentieff shook his head energetically. 
 
 " I am not guilty," he exclaimed passionately, " You 
 might as well send the prosecuting attorney to Siberia as
 
 EXTRACT FROM THE MOSCOW CHRONICLE. 281 
 
 me ; I had nothing more to do with the crime of which I 
 am accused than he had." 
 
 He was advised to be silent. It was evident that his 
 violent manner was making an unfortunate impression 
 upon the jury. 
 
 " Once more I will ask if Witness Capiton Karlovitch 
 Strodtmann is present?" said the judge. Then after a 
 long silence, he added : " The counsel for the defence 
 will now be heard." But just as that gentleman arose to 
 speak, there was quite a commotion in the dense throng, 
 caused by some officers of the court, who were evidently 
 trying to open a way through the crowd for another witness, 
 who wished to testify. 
 
 The new-comer proved to be a beautiful young girl with 
 a delicate face framed with rich masses of brown hair, a 
 superb complexion, and large dark eyes that shone like 
 stars. 
 
 On seeing her, the prisoner hastily sprang to his feet, 
 uttering a smothered exclamation. He was compelled to 
 reseat himself; but every one could see that he was greatly 
 agitated. 
 
 "Your name, my child?" asked the presiding judge 
 gently, for the sudden and unexpected appearance of this 
 vision of youthful loveliness was evidently as great a sur- 
 prise to him as to the rest of the assemblage. 
 
 " Alexandra Fedorovna, adopted daughter of the late Fe- 
 dor Illitch Terentieff, father of the prisoner," responded 
 the new witness, in a clear and musical voice. 
 
 " Alexandra Fedorovna, swear to tell the truth, the 
 whole truth, and nothing but the truth." The witness took 
 the required oath in a modest and reverent manner. 
 
 " Now what have you to say, Alexandra Fedorovna? "
 
 282 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 " I attended the concert at the Porte Doree on the evening 
 of the 1 4th of February. \_Great excitement in ttie court- 
 room.^ I arrived there at eight o'clock, in company with my 
 old friend, Prince Arcadion Semonovitch Bekounine, who 
 is ready to confirm my statements. About quarter past 
 eight, while sitting beside that gentleman in Box No. 10, 
 in the first tier, I happened to glance up at the gallery, 
 and at that very moment I saw Dmitri Fedorovitch, my 
 adopted brother, enter. Though I had not seen him for 
 two years, which I spent in Southern Europe, I rec- 
 ognized him instantly, but took up my opera-glass to 
 satisfy myself beyond a doubt that it was really he. I 
 called Arcadion S^monovitch's attention to my brother's 
 presence, and he, too, recognized him. On entering, 
 Dmitri Fedorovitch took a seat in the first row, removed 
 his hat, rested his elbow on the balustrade and his chin 
 upon his hand. He sat where the light of the chandelier 
 fell full upon him, and he did not leave his place until the 
 close of the concert. One might have taken him for a 
 statue ; and if I had not known his passion for music, his 
 immobility would have alarmed me. Even during the 
 intermission, when everybody else was talking and moving 
 about, he remained motionless in his seat. Prince 
 Bekounine and I both laughed about it, and finally we 
 made a wager, he, that Dmitri would move ; I, that he 
 would not. I won. The concert ended at midnight, and 
 my brother immediately rose and left the hall. I hoped 
 to see him at the door as we went out; but did not, nor 
 have I had any opportunity to see him since, for my god- 
 father, as I call Prince Bekounine, was taken very ill the 
 next day, and my whole time and attention have beer 
 devoted to nursing him. It was through yesterda, o
 
 SACHA IN THE COURT-ROOM.
 
 EXTRACT FROM THE MOSCOW CHRONICLE. 285 
 
 papers that we first heard of my beloved brother's trying 
 position. Of course I came here as soon as possible to 
 tell you the whole truth." 
 
 The fair speaker paused, overcome with emotion, and 
 her melodious voice had scarcely ceased, when a storm 
 of applause burst from the audience; loud shouts of 
 " Three Cheers for Terentieff ! Hurrah! he is innocent! he 
 is innocent ! " resounded on every side. In vain the officers 
 of the court, and even the judges, endeavored to restore 
 order. It was one of those outbursts of enthusiasm that 
 cannot be repressed, and tears streamed from many eyes. 
 Every one seemed to experience a feeling of intense relief 
 at the discovery of the prisoner's innocence. Every one 
 applauded wildly ; and the accused, who had borne himself 
 so courageously up to that time, seemed completely over- 
 come, and buried his face in his hands. 
 
 In the midst of the general uproar, a messenger ap- 
 proached the presiding judge and handed him a sealed 
 letter. The justice hastily tore it open, and glanced at the 
 contents, then quickly rose from his seat. The confusion 
 subsided, as if by magic ; one could have heard a pin drop, 
 so intense was the stillness. In a voice that trembled 
 with emotion, the judge, turning to the prisoner, said, 
 
 " Look up, Dmitri Fedorovitch ; assuredly you have no 
 cause to bow your head. Even if your sister's testimony 
 had not exonerated you, we should not have failed to 
 discover the truth. Listen, all you who are here pre- 
 sent, and unite with me in testifying our respect and 
 sympathy for this noble young man, who has suffered so 
 undeservedly." 
 
 Then he read in a clear, ringing voice the following 
 letter :
 
 286 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 To DMITRI TERENTIEFF'S JUDGES : 
 
 When this letter is handed to you, I shall be far away. I can 
 endure my remorse no longer. Dmitri F^dorovitch is not guilty 
 of the assault imputed to him ; it was I, Capiton Karlovitch 
 Strodtmann, who planned and executed the entire affair. 
 
 It is useless to dwell upon the circumstances that first excited 
 my animosity against my fellow student. It is enough for me to 
 confess that I hated him even before I knew him, and for the 
 basest of reasons, that is, because I believed I had been deprived 
 through him of an inheritance upon which I had counted from 
 childhood. 
 
 How this feeling of avarice could have gained such a hold upon 
 me I do not know ; but I detested Dmitri from the moment of 
 our first meeting, and made no secret of the fact, as my class- 
 mates will testify. 
 
 Dmitri himself asked me the reason of my evident dislike 
 early in our acquaintance ; but I gave him no satisfaction. Every 
 day I allowed my vindictive feelings to gain a stronger and 
 stronger hold upon me ; I racked my brain to devise new means 
 of annoying and wounding him. His self-control exasperated 
 me ; I longed to see him humiliated ; and though it delighted 
 me to know that he was poor, it irritated me almost beyond 
 endurance to see that he was liked and respected by his fellow 
 students. 
 
 I blush to think of the depths to which I allowed my hatred 
 and jealousy to degrade me. Ask Terentieff what occurred on 
 the ice on the occasion of Count Brovsky's fete ? If he despises 
 me as I deserve, he will tell you. Shortly after that eventful 
 day, I made some slight advances to Dmitri. I hoped he was 
 ignorant of my baseness ; but he repulsed me. I certainly de- 
 served it; and yet this repulse decided me. I have no right 
 to reproach him ; but if he had been more kind, I might have 
 confessed my fault and striven to make amends. Instead of
 
 EXTRACT FROM THE MOSCOW CHRONICLE. 287 
 
 that, from that time on, hypocrisy was added to my other 
 crimes. 
 
 Though I hated him with a deadly hatred, I praised him upon 
 all occasions; and if I detected surprise or contempt in his 
 look at such times, I only became more enthusiastic in my 
 eulogiums. I suspected him of having betrayed me to his most 
 intimate friend, Serge Arcadievitch Kratkine, and though I have 
 since learned that I was mistaken, the thought appalled me. 
 
 Dmitri and Serge were both universally esteemed in tne 
 college, so I hated them both almost equally. It is hard to 
 confess one's self governed by such base sentiments ; but it is 
 the only reparation I can make, and I will not allow cowardice 
 to deter me now. 
 
 There had been a feud between me and the janitor for a long 
 time. I had been one of his worst tormentors ever since I en- 
 tered Saint- Vladimir ; I knew the superstitious terrors of which 
 the unfortunate man was the victim, terrors caused, to a great 
 extent, by his indulgence in spirituous liquors ; and after a 
 quarrel of which Terentieff, to my great annoyance, chanced to 
 be a witness, I resolved to have my revenge upon Gavruchka 
 by means of a practical joke that would frighten him nearly out 
 of his senses. 
 
 Alas ! I little suspected how disastrous the consequences of 
 this joke would prove ! 
 
 I resolved to carry my scheme into execution that very even- 
 ing. Chance, or rather a most dishonorable act on my part, put 
 me in possession of one of Dmitri's papers, and the idea of 
 casting the odium of the affair upon him in case it was discov- 
 ered suddenly occurred to me. I took the paper home, and 
 after spending an hour or two in imitating his writing, I wrote 
 the pretended death-warrant on the other side of the paper. 
 
 About half past ten o'clock, I crept stealthily out of my 
 father's house, and accompanied by two youths I happened to 
 see loafing about the street, ready for any kind of deviltry, I
 
 288 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 went to the college and rang the janitor's bell. I had enveloped 
 myself in a large cloak, and tied a big comforter about the lower 
 part of my face. 
 
 Suddenly aroused from his first nap, Gavruchka was still half 
 asleep when he opened the door. Without a word, I turned the 
 light of my lantern full upon him ; then saying, " In the name 
 of the law ! " in sepulchral tones, I stalked into the janitor's 
 room, followed by my accomplices. 
 
 The old man was now thoroughly frightened, and his terror 
 increased when I proceeded to lock the door. I then told him 
 that the students of Saint- Vladimir, tired of his tyranny, had 
 resolved upon his death ; I next read the death-warrant, and 
 while he was listening to it, trembling and half crazed with fear, 
 I made a signal to my assistants. 
 
 They seized the old man by the elbows, and compelled him 
 to kneel in front of the table. One of them then blindfolded 
 him. He remained perfectly motionless, like an ox in the 
 shambles, and for a moment I fully realized the enormity of 
 the deed I was committing ; but stifling the admonitions of 
 conscience, I said, in hollow tones, 
 
 " Gavruchka, commend your soul to God, for your last hour 
 has come ! " 
 
 As I concluded, I dropped upon the back of his neck a 
 tightly-twisted towel, which I had previously dipped in ice- cold 
 water. 
 
 A few seconds passed in unbroken silence. As the wet towel 
 touched his neck, the old man uttered such a deep, lugubrious 
 groan that I shuddered with fear; but conquering the feeling, 
 with a loud laugh, which my companions echoed, I tore the 
 bandage from his eyes. 
 
 Imagine our horror when we saw that the unfortunate man 
 had become unconscious ! All our efforts to restore him proving 
 fruitless, we felt certain that he was dead ; and the idea filled us 
 with such frantic terror that we resolved to flee.
 
 EXTRACT FROM THE MOSCOW CHRONICLE. 289 
 
 My companions did not know my name, nor had they seen 
 my face. I had given each of them a gold coin, and promised 
 them some fun ; but their sole object in accompanying me 
 having been amusement, they were all the more horrified at 
 the terrible consequences of our escapade, and I had very little 
 trouble in making them solemnly swear to keep the affair a 
 secret. 
 
 We stole noiselessly out ; I parted with my companions at the 
 first street- corner, and succeeded in re-entering my father's 
 house unobserved. 
 
 Then, and not until then, did I discover that the pretended 
 death-warrant had been left in the janitor's room. In my terror, 
 an infamous idea suggested itself to my mind. If the writing on 
 the paper was recognized as that of Terentieff, I was saved. If 
 he had penned the death-warrant, it was only natural to suppose 
 that his had been the hand that carried it into execution. 
 
 You know the rest, at least, you know that I yielded to the 
 temptation ; but you do not know what I have suffered during the 
 forty days of my fellow-student's imprisonment. Since I met 
 your searching eyes, Dmitri, while I was giving my testimony in 
 the superintendent's office, and read in them the scorn and con- 
 tempt I so richly deserved ; since I have known that you were con- 
 vinced of my guilt, and that your generosity alone prevented you 
 from charging me with my crime, my anguish and remorse 
 have been well-nigh intolerable. You, of course, must have suf- 
 fered terribly while in prison, covered with unmerited disgrace, 
 suspected by every one, and perhaps ill-treated ; but if you knew 
 what one suffers when one is guilty, you would forgive me. In- 
 deed, I have been so wretched that I could almost forgive 
 myself. 
 
 Again and again during this trying time I have been on the 
 point of throwing myself at the president's feet and confessing 
 all ; but a feeling of shame deterred me. 
 
 19
 
 290 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 Oh, the miserable nights I have passed, writhing and groaning 
 under my burden of guilt and cowardice ! What would I not 
 have given to be able to hold up my head as you did ! And 
 when I heard your friends Serge and Grichine, and Platon and 
 even poor Porphyre proclaim their faith in you, it seemed to me 
 I was being scourged with red-hot irons. 
 
 The days dragged by; an incident occurred that at last con- 
 quered me, an incident that many persons might consider trivial. 
 I saw your half-starved dog waiting for you at the door of your 
 prison, and the poor dumb brute shamed me with his fidelity, and 
 showed me what course to pursue. 
 
 I see myself in my true character now ; I realize the baseness, 
 the depravity, the ignoble nature of the sentiments that have 
 always governed me. 
 
 I ask your forgiveness, here, publicly; I know you are too 
 generous not to grant me your compassion. 
 
 My father signs this letter with me. At my request, he will see 
 that it is delivered without delay. I leave Moscow this very hour. 
 Perhaps on some distant battle-field Heaven will grant me an 
 opportunity to retrieve my honor, and atone for my crime. 
 
 CAPITON KARLOVTTCH STRODTMANN. 
 Witnesses : 
 
 KARL STRODTMANN, 
 
 PETER SMALT, Servant in the family of Karl Strodtmann. 
 
 The reading of this long letter created the wildest ex- 
 citement in the court-room ; and when the venerable judge 
 solemnly declared T6rentieff innocent of any connection 
 with the crime, the entire audience applauded vociferously. 
 
 The presiding judge added a few impressive remarks 
 upon the folly of these practical jokes, which are often so 
 appalling in their consequences. Strodtmann's punish- 
 ment had been severe, but how cowardly and disgraceful
 
 EXTRACT FROM THE MOSCOW CHRONICLE. 291 
 
 his conduct had been ! His fate should be a warning to 
 the many young men present. 
 
 Terentieff, too deeply moved to speak, sat with his face 
 buried in his hands during the entire perusal of the letter. 
 
 When the judge warmly congratulated the young man,, 
 the applause burst out afresh, and he was the recipient of 
 a genuine ovation as he was borne from the court-room in 
 triumph by his classmates. He subsequently left the 
 court house in company with his adopted sister and 
 illustrious friend, Maestro Nepomuk Raabzinsky. 
 
 In behalf of the Press of our city, we sincerely congratu- 
 late Dmitri Fedorovitch Terentieff upon the fortitude and 
 courage he displayed during this trying ordeal, and upon 
 the fortunate termination of the trial.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 EIGHT YEARS AFTERWARD. 
 
 HANGING to be alone yesterday, I set to work to 
 hunt up a certain fugue by Father Bach, which 
 Sacha unjustly accuses me of having imitated in a page 
 I have just written. Wishing to convince her of her 
 mistake, I rummaged through a big pile of dusty papers, 
 and happened upon these reminiscences, written under 
 such painful circumstances. 
 
 How vividly they recall bygone days ! I live over 
 again in fancy each of those trying moments. How I 
 suffered in that grim old Moscow prison ! How its very 
 walls seemed to whisper of iniquity and oppression ! 
 When one is sixteen, one rebels against injustice with 
 one's whole soul; one longs to blot out such an outrage 
 upon humanity; one suffers with all who suffer here 
 below; but when one is himself the victim, how frantic 
 one becomes ! I remember well that I regarded my 
 judges, my jailers, and in fact all mankind, as so many 
 monsters. The idea that a denial on my part was not 
 sufficient to establish my innocence, made me frantic 
 with rage. It seemed to me that people ought to give 
 me the benefit of the doubt until my guilt was proved 
 beyond all question; and I rebelled at the idea of being 
 treated as a criminal when I knew I was not a criminal.
 
 EIGHT YEARS AFTERWARD. 293 
 
 Sacha found me absorbed in the perusal of these remi- 
 niscences; she glanced over them with me, and when we 
 had finished them, she said, 
 
 "The narrative is incomplete, Dmitri. Put your musi- 
 cal instruments aside. I am not going to allow you to 
 touch them again until you have finished this story of our 
 lives. Come, here 's a good pen and a quire of paper, 
 and our father's big armchair holds out its arms invit- 
 ingly to you ! To work, to work ! there is not much more 
 to say, but I 'm going to lock up the organ, and hide your 
 violin, until you shall have finished your task." 
 
 Surrounded by my dear friends and leaning on my 
 master's arm, I left the court house like one in a dream. 
 So many conflicting emotions had quite overpowered me. 
 Never had I experienced such astonishment as when I 
 saw Sacha suddenly appear in the court-room; but how 
 perfectly natural it seemed that I should owe the vindi- 
 cation of my honor to her! Then, too, Capiton's letter 
 grieved me deeply. His reproach to me for having re- 
 ceived his advances so coldly pierced me to the heart ! 
 How ardently I wished now that I had freely forgiven 
 him, instead of making a pharisaical parade of my virtue. 
 If I had been more willing to forget my grievances, 
 doubtless all this would never have happened. The poor 
 janitor was out of danger, it is true, but his entire re- 
 covery was a long way off. Having nearly lost his mem- 
 ory, his position became purely honorary. A room in 
 the Gymnasium was allotted to him, and another old sol- 
 dier took possession of the lodge, where Gavruchka some- 
 times went to quarrel with him, as he had done with the 
 pupils in years gone by.
 
 294 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 As for Capiton, if I had not held myself so obstinately 
 aloof from him, he would doubtless have become a differ- 
 ent boy; this most disastrous practical joke might never 
 have been played upon Gavruchka ; and instead of being 
 compelled to exile himself in consequence of it, he might 
 have become a happy and honored member of our little 
 circle. Serge felt exactly as I did about this matter, as 
 he told me afterward. This passage in our fellow- 
 student's letter grieved him also, and he, too, could not 
 forgive himself for his hardness of heart. I thought of 
 my father, who was always so kind and good and truly 
 charitable, and said to myself that if he had been in my 
 place, he would have acted very differently. 
 
 And yet an intense joy pervaded my entire being. It 
 was my dear Sacha who had saved me ! How can I de- 
 scribe my feelings when she suddenly appeared in the 
 midst of that excited throng and her pure voice was heard 
 speaking in her brother's defence. I can see her still as 
 she stood there, with a ray of sunshine playing around her 
 pretty head and encircling it with a sort of halo. She 
 was so young and yet so composed ; and she spoke with 
 such manifest sincerity, that she won the respect of each 
 and every person present, and to me she seemed nothing 
 less than a guardian angel. 
 
 I made a resolution then and there. Neither ambition 
 nor self-love should be my incentive henceforth. If I 
 should ever again aspire to become a distinguished man, 
 it would be to render myself worthy of Sacha, my dear, 
 noble-hearted little darling. 
 
 When I regained consciousness, so to speak, I found 
 myself in the street with her and Arcadion Se"monovitch, 
 who had accompanied her to the court-room, though he
 
 EIGHT YEARS AFTERWARD. . 295 
 
 had only partially recovered from his illness. Need I 
 say that my faithful Porphyre, stolid alike in prosperity 
 and adversity, was also with us? 
 
 I confess that I shrank from the thought of again pre- 
 senting myself before Mme. Lebanoff ; so my relief was 
 great when Sacha told me, on our way to the Boulevard 
 Tversko'f, that the princess was not in Moscow. My heart 
 felt much lighter, and it was with sincere joy that I fol- 
 lowed her into the drawing-room. All the furniture was 
 carefully covered, and it was a pleasant-faced, gray-haired 
 woman, instead of those tall, insolent footmen, who opened 
 the door for us, a change that pleased me very much, 
 by the way. 
 
 " Sacha, my dear, I will leave you with your young 
 friends for a while," remarked Baron Bekounine. "You 
 know how busy I am just now, so you must tell them the 
 reason we have decided to prolong our stay in Moscow. 
 An revoir, young gentlemen ! We will dine together by 
 and by, and drink a glass of champagne in Dmitri's 
 honor." 
 
 After the old gentleman's departure, we seated our- 
 selves around the big fire that was blazing on the hearth ; 
 my good dog Snap stretched himself out at my feet with 
 a low growl of profound satisfaction, and we were ready 
 to listen. 
 
 "True, Mitia, you know nothing about the present 
 state of affairs," exclaimed Sacha. "Well, Mme. Leba- 
 noff has married again. She will never return to Russia. 
 Indeed, it is to effect a sale of all her property that Arca- 
 dion Semonovitch is here now." 
 
 " Mme. Lebanoff has married again ! " I exclaimed. 
 "Then what will become of you, Sacha?"
 
 296 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 " Of me ? Oh, I 've become what I was before, the 
 Sacha of former years, who can boast of no friend but 
 Dmitri." 
 
 " Explain, I beg of you ! " I cry, both alarmed and 
 delighted. 
 
 Porphyre's eyes were stretched to their widest extent. 
 
 " Well, about a year ago we went to Florence to spend 
 the winter," began Sacha. "A heavy cold kept me a 
 prisoner in my room for about a fortnight ; and when I at 
 last came downstairs to dine with Arcadion Semonovitch 
 and my godmother, you know the princess always liked 
 me to call her that, I found her entertaining a gentle- 
 man I had never seen before, but to whom I instantly 
 took a strong dislike. 
 
 " He was a stout, dark-complexioned man, about thirty 
 years old, I should say, and decked out in more jewelry 
 than I had ever seen a man wear before. He was chat- 
 ting very gayly with Daria Alexandrovna; but when I 
 entered the room, his eyes grew cold and stern, though he 
 continued to smile. It may have been only fancy, but it 
 seemed to me that there was something rather unnatural 
 in the way he displayed his teeth, which were as white 
 and even as pearls. 
 
 "'Don't look so astonished, my dear count; this is 
 only my little Sacha, the daughter I 've so often told you 
 about, ' remarked the princess. 
 
 "'Your daughter? impossible! Oh, no; I protest, 
 my dear princess with that complexion and those eyes? 
 There is certainly nothing about this young person to 
 remind one of the beautiful star of the North who has 
 come to illumine our southern skies with her radiance.' 
 
 " ' Fi, fi, count ! ' exclaimed the princess. ' Sacha,
 
 EIGHT YEARS AFTERWARD. 297 
 
 dear, come here. This is Count Ottavio Luzzi-Ferrati, 
 one of my most esteemed friends. What ! neither of you 
 offer to shake hands? Understand once for all that I 
 absolutely insist upon your being the best of friends ! ' 
 
 " I extended my hand to the count, though rather un- 
 graciously, I fear, and he made a movement as if he were 
 about to touch it with his lips, after the Italian fashion ; 
 but I hastily withdrew it. 
 
 " 'The young lady is a little shy,' he said, with a laugh 
 that had a false ring in it; 'but that doesn't matter. 
 Everything connected with you is dear to me, cara 
 arnica. ' 
 
 "The count's manner displeased me so much that I 
 turned my back on him, and picking up a book, walked 
 into the adjoining room, which was separated from this 
 merely by a portiere ; but for some inexplicable reason I 
 found it impossible to fix my attention on my reading. 
 Count Ottavio's voice though it may have been sweet- 
 est music to the ears of the fair Florentines excited in 
 me a sort of nervous irritation that I could not suppress. 
 
 " ' She has a rather depressed, or perhaps, to speak 
 more correctly, a rather sullen air, ' remarked the count, 
 in subdued tones. ' Yes, sullen is exactly the word for it. 
 But when a young girl is not pretty, and has been reared 
 out of charity, she ought to make herself more agreeable. 
 What do you intend to do with the poor child ? ' 
 
 " ' I don't know what you mean, count, ' replied Mme. 
 Lebanoff, dryly. ' Besides, the opinion you have formed 
 of Sacha surprises me. She is generally considered a very 
 charming girl. ' 
 
 " I am only repeating what they said, you understand, 
 Mitia," laughed Sacha.
 
 298 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 "Yes, yes; go on," I cried, and Porphyre signifying 
 the same desire by a grunt, Sacha continued, - 
 
 " ' How can one help being blind to all save you, bright 
 star of the North?' exclaimed the count, sentimentally; 
 and as he began to praise the golden hair and blue eyes 
 of his star of the North, I was forgotten. 
 
 " Of course I was perfectly well aware that I had been 
 reared out of charity, first by your father and you, Dmitri, 
 and afterwards by the princess; but when I heard this 
 stranger state the fact in such an insolent way I trembled 
 with rage and indignation. You know by experience 
 that my disposition has never been remarkable for its 
 sweetness. There is nothing dove-like about me. My 
 temples throbbed almost to bursting. I felt as if I 
 should suffocate. Making my escape by another door, I 
 rushed up to my own room, and throwing myself on the 
 bed, began to weep bitterly. Oh, how humiliated and 
 wretched I felt ! and not altogether on my own account. 
 Oh, no! I almost knew what was going to happen, and 
 I felt sure that this man was not worthy of my dear 
 godmother. 
 
 " When the dinner hour came, I told the maid that my 
 head ached too badly for me to eat anything, which was 
 the truth, and I remained in my own room. 
 
 " Soon some one rapped at my door. It was Arcadion 
 Semonovitch, who had come to ask how I felt. He must 
 have seen that I had been weeping, for he stroked my 
 hair gently, murmuring, 'Poor child! poor child!' so 
 tenderly that my tears burst forth afresh. 
 
 " He sighed heavily, and seated himself by the fire with- 
 out saying a word, and we spent the evening together in 
 gloomy silence.
 
 SACHA INTRODUCED TO COUNT OTTAVIO.
 
 EIGHT YEARS AFTERWARD. 30 1 
 
 " Soon there could be no doubt that a great change was 
 at hand. The count might almost be said to be a mem- 
 ber of the household already, for he was always there, 
 flattering the princess, paying her the most assiduous at- 
 tentions, repeating poetry to her, and entertaining her 
 with impromptu witticisms, composed with care in his 
 leisure moments, it seemed to me. I could not accus- 
 tom myself to his presence, nor overcome the distrust and 
 aversion he inspired in me; neither could I avoid seeing 
 him. 
 
 " Daria Alexandrovna soon perceived how greatly I dis- 
 liked him, and endeavored both by arguments and rail- 
 lery to change the opinion I had formed of him ; but she 
 soon discovered that this was only a waste of time. Then 
 I had the grief and mortification of noticing a marked 
 change in her manner toward me. She seemed to be- 
 come less and less fond of me, and more and more sensi- 
 ble of my many faults. All this wounded me deeply, 
 especially as her altered manner was plainly due to the 
 count's influence. How different my life became! The 
 princess, who had formerly been so kind and indulgent, 
 was now petulant and hard to please; she reprimanded 
 me severely for the slightest fault, and was always send- 
 ing me to my governess, instead of keeping me with her, 
 as she had been in the habit of doing. I came to the 
 conclusion that she had ceased to care for me, and this 
 made me so unhappy that I displeased her more and more 
 by my sad and dejected manner. 
 
 " I seemed doomed to appear to the worst possible 
 advantage in the count's presence. He overwhelmed me 
 with protestations of friendly regard, but at the same 
 time wounded me deeply by his insinuations. He was
 
 302 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 constantly reminding me of Mme. Lebanoff's goodness 
 and charity, and invariably spoke of her as 'your benefac- 
 tress,' all the while showing by his manner that he con- 
 sidered me the most ungrateful of creatures. 
 
 " As if it were necessary for this stranger to remind me 
 of what I owed to my godmother ! 
 
 " When he spoke in this way, I seemed to turn to ice. 
 At such times nothing on earth could have induced me to 
 manifest the slightest affection for the princess ; and yet 
 I loved her devotedly. 
 
 "At last, one evening she called me into her room. 
 
 " ' I wish to speak to you, Sacha, ' she said gravely. 
 ' I am about to marry. I think you will have no diffi- 
 culty in guessing who the gentleman is. I am going to 
 marry Count Luzzi-Ferrati. ' 
 
 " I could not help bursting into tears ; and throwing 
 myself passionately in her arms, I exclaimed, 
 
 " 'Oh, no, no, pray don't! Don't, I beg of you! He 
 is a bad man; he is not honest, I know he is not. He 
 does n't love you, I 'm sure he does not. ' 
 
 " ' Your behavior pains me more than words can ex- 
 press, ' said the princess, pushing me away. ' It is terri- 
 ble to me to see you yield to this unworthy feeling of 
 jealousy. It convinces me of the wisdom of my plans, 
 however. We must part, Sacha, at least for a while. 
 Ottavio is sure that the climate of Russia would prove 
 almost fatal to me, and advises me to sell all my prop- 
 erty there, so we can establish ourselves permanently in 
 Italy. I have decided to do so. Arcadion S^monovitch 
 is going to Russia to dispose of my property, and you are 
 to accompany him. I hope when you return that your 
 feelings will have changed. You know I cannot form-
 
 EIGHT YEARS AFTERWARD, 303 
 
 ally adopt you before your twenty-first birthday, and 
 then only with Count Luzzi-Ferrati's consent. Con- 
 sider all this, my child, and try to overcome your foolish 
 prejudice ' 
 
 " ' Daria Alexandrovna, ' I interrupted impetuously, ' I 
 could once accept anything from you, but that is no 
 longer possible. Thanks to you, I have received an edu- 
 cation that will enable me to earn my own living with 
 comparative ease. So far as I myself am concerned, I 
 have no fears. It is for you that I feel so anxious. What 
 will become of you, my dear, dear godmother, when you 
 are in this man's power? Give up all thoughts of this 
 marriage, I beseech you ! I see I feel that Count 
 Luzzi-Ferrati is deceiving you. It is not you that he 
 loves, it is only your fortune. Tell him you have lost 
 everything, and you will see. ' 
 
 " ' Hush, child, hush, you break my heart ! How can 
 you have got these absurd ideas into your head ? ' cried 
 the princess, weeping in her turn. 
 
 " 'I don't know; but what I say is true, I know it. 
 Oh, pray listen to me, dear godmother ' 
 
 "The princess kissed me tenderly. After sitting, 
 apparently lost in thought, for a few moments, she dried 
 her tears. 
 
 " ' I have given my word, Sacha, ' she said quietly ; ' I 
 cannot retract it. You are mistaken, I assure you. The 
 count is an honorable man. I feel that I can become his 
 wife without any cause for misgivings. ' 
 
 "What could I say? From that time, the princess 
 treated me with all her former kindness ; but it was de- 
 cided that we should start for Russia without delay. 
 The installation of the newly married pair in the ruined
 
 304 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 palace of the Luzzi-Ferrati .would necessitate the ex- 
 penditure of a large sum of money, and M. Bekounine 
 was deputized to raise the amount immediately. 
 
 "So we came to Moscow. The marriage took place 
 soon after our departure; and I have made up my mind to 
 pass the necessary examination and establish myself here 
 as a teacher. My poor Arcadion Semonovitch is equally 
 loath to reside with the princess hereafter, so he will live 
 with me on his small income, and we shall soon leave 
 this house, which is already sold, by the way, to take 
 possession of a snug little cottage on the outskirts of the 
 city. So we shall be happy yet, eh, Mitia?" 
 
 Sacha dried her eyes as she finished her story, and I 
 could not conceal my joy to find my dear little friend as 
 affectionate and unspoiled as in the days of her child- 
 hood. What a busy, happy life we should all lead ! Por- 
 phyre was delighted ; and Sacha, too, was pleased, in spite 
 of her apprehensions in regard to the poor princess. 
 
 Before a month had elapsed, the aged 'baron and Sacha 
 were cosily established in a neat little cottage just out- 
 side the city limits. Sacha, who had been very carefully 
 educated, like most young Russian girls of the better 
 class, had already secured two or three pupils ; and when 
 our day's work was done, how eagerly we hastened to 
 the cottage to spend a few hours together! One might 
 almost have fancied that the happy days of the past had 
 returned.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 MY SYMPHONY. 
 
 I WILL not dwell upon my return to the Gymnasium. 
 It was a genuine ovation. Teachers and scholars 
 crowded around me, overwhelming me with protestations 
 of friendship and sympathy. 
 
 It was hard to believe that everybody had not been 
 firmly convinced all the while that not I, but Capiton, 
 was the real culprit, though I have often wondered since 
 why they all failed to say anything about it, if that was 
 really their opinion. 
 
 Preparations for the final examination must be begun 
 at once. I had devoted many of the long dreary hours 
 of my imprisonment to mentally reviewing nearly all I 
 knew, and I now had the satisfaction of discovering that 
 this period of enforced idleness, far from being a disad- 
 vantage, had really refreshed my memory and rendered 
 comprehension less difficult. I would not like to see 
 any one subjected to a similar ordeal, however, for I had 
 spent such anxious and melancholy hours as few lads of 
 my age are called upon to endure. 
 
 Six months passed, and almost every day Porphyre and 
 I paid a visit to The Birches, as the little settlement 
 where Baron Bekounine and my dear Sacha lived was 
 called. It seemed almost like the country there. Mag-
 
 306 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 nificent birches bordered the road, and a venerable tree 
 of the same species shaded the little garden back of the 
 house. The whole place was fresh and neat ; and Sacha 
 throve there like a beautiful flower, and the kind-hearted 
 old baron seemed happy and contented in the society and 
 - filial affection of his youthful prot/g/e. Their only ser- 
 vant was the gray-haired woman I had seen at the city 
 house, and a better and more faithful creature never 
 lived. 
 
 Even Nepomuk Raabzinsky had fallen a victim to 
 Sacha' s charms. I took him to The Birches one evening, 
 and though he grumbled terribly all the way, it was not 
 long before he expressed a desire to go again, and it 
 soon became a habit with him. Sacha bade fair to have 
 a very fine voice, and in spite of his strictures on ama- 
 teurs, Master Nepomuk seemed to take pleasure in culti- 
 vating it. He allowed her to sing only classical music 
 of the most severe kind, and rigorously forbade the 
 slightest attempt at ornamentation; but as Sacha's taste 
 agreed perfectly with that of the old maestro, they had 
 no differences on this score. 
 
 Arcadion Semonovitch, who was himself a great lover 
 of music, and played the violoncello remarkably well, 
 was delighted to make the acquaintance of the famous 
 composer. The two old gentlemen soon took a great 
 liking to each other, and their evening game of chess 
 became a regular institution. 
 
 While they were thus engaged near the stove, we young 
 people gathered around the centre table with our books, 
 for that dread examination was still looming grimly up 
 before us. Sacha, too, was studying hard for her exami- 
 nation; but, oh, how much more easily she learned than
 
 MY SYMPHONY. 307 
 
 I did! Mme. Lebanoff, who was very learned herself, 
 had given her prottgte a remarkably thorough education, 
 and the mischievous girl laughed at my stupidity just as 
 heartily as in former years. She learned with little or 
 no effort, and seemed to understand everything with 
 marvellous readiness. 
 
 " I sha'n't have a word to say for myself, see if I 
 do!" I cried despairingly for the hundredth time, one 
 evening as we three were sitting around the lamp. 
 
 "Nonsense!" laughed Sacha. "You mustn't allow 
 yourself to be so discouraged as all that, Mitia. Just 
 say to yourself that you are certainly going to get five l 
 in everything, whether or no. " 
 
 " How can you ridicule me so? " 
 
 "By no means. Don't you see, if you are deter- 
 mined to get a five, you will probably get a two or a 
 three; but if you yield to despondency in advance, I 
 won't answer for the consequences." 
 
 " That is all very well for people who learn without 
 any effort," I answered bitterly; "but when one is natu- 
 rally stupid, it's no laughing matter." 
 
 She did laugh heartily, nevertheless. As for Porphyre, 
 it was impossible to divert his attention when he was 
 studying. A cannon might have been fired in his ears 
 without disturbing him; and sighing lugubriously, I set 
 to work again. 
 
 I had taken Serge to see my friends, who were much 
 pleased with him; and his parents having called shortly 
 afterwards, both households were soon on the most 
 friendly terms, and the Kratkines never seemed to tire 
 of singing my little Sacha' s praises. 
 
 1 Five is the highest mark in Russia.
 
 308 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 The concluding strains of my symphony had become 
 so clear in my mind during the last night of my im- 
 prisonment, that all I had to do afterward was to write 
 them down. The composition was finished now, and 
 I at last decided, though not without many misgivings, 
 to submit it to my instructor.' 
 
 Entering his apartment one morning, all of a tremble, 
 I placed my manuscript on the rack of the grand piano. 
 
 "Master," I said, trying my best to steady my voice, 
 "will you please look at this composition, and tell me 
 what you think of it?" 
 
 " Hum ! " responded Master Nepomuk, with an omi- 
 nous growl. 
 
 Nevertheless, he seated himself at the piano and fixed 
 his sharp, piercing eyes on the page I had opened before 
 him. 
 
 "Where did you get this?" he asked abruptly, after 
 glancing over it. 
 
 "A a friend of mine composed it, and desires your 
 opinion of it," I faltered, hoping to divert his suspicions 
 by this transparent fraud; for all my courage had deserted 
 me, and I was trembling before him like a guilty child. 
 
 After a still more prolonged and sonorous Hum ! my 
 master placed his long, dry fingers on the keys and began 
 the symphony. 
 
 How can I describe the intoxicating emotions that 
 filled my soul on hearing the melody I had composed ren- 
 dered with wonderful skill by those illustrious hands? I 
 was sure of myself for the first time. Yes ; it was beau- 
 tiful, it was grand, it was true ! These strains came from 
 the very heart of Nature ; this wild and yet ethereal melody 
 was really what I had hoped. It was redolent of the
 
 MY SYMPHONY. 309 
 
 bracing, exhilarating air of the steppes, of the very 
 spirit of youth and liberty. Nepomuk Raabzinsky played 
 the entire score through to the end without once pausing. 
 When he had finished, he turned back to the first page 
 and looked for the name of the composer. I had omitted 
 to place it there, intentionally. 
 
 Then he turned his eagle eyes on me. I was standing 
 by his side, blushing and paling by turns. 
 
 <( Is this yours ? " he demanded gravely. 
 
 "Yes," I replied huskily. "I couldn't help writing 
 it, my head would have burst, if I hadn't. And since 
 I have heard you play it, it seems to me it is beautiful," 
 I added, venturing to raise my head again. 
 
 Nepomuk Raabzinsky sprang up in evident agitation. 
 He took several turns up and down the room ; then sud- 
 denly turning to me, he wrapped his long arms around 
 me and almost crushed me in his embrace. His cheeks 
 as well as his deep-set eyes were wet with tears, as he 
 placed his hand tenderly on my head. 
 
 "Give fervent thanks to Heaven, my child," he said 
 solemnly, "that it has imbued you with its sacred fire; 
 for you possess genius, Dmitri. Woe be unto you 
 if you ever degrade it to base and sordid uses ! Surfer, if 
 need be, drag out your life in abject poverty and mis- 
 ery, but preserve the immortal fire inviolate. All hail 
 to human genius ! " he continued exultantly. " It -makes 
 man the peer of the angels of light, and your place is 
 among these exalted ones. I am proud of you, Dmitri. 
 I thank the Creator, who has allowed a superannuated 
 old man like me to mould a new prince of art. I shall 
 not have lived in vain. Men will say of me : ' He was 
 Terentieff's teacher! ' "
 
 310 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 On hearing these words, my emotion overpowered me, 
 and I implored him to cease. The thought that he should 
 place me above him caused me such pain that I impetu- 
 ously declared I would destroy my work ; but he ordered 
 me to be silent. 
 
 " Hush ! " he said imperiously. " It shall never be said 
 of me that I was blind to the talent of others. You have 
 genius. It is no more your fault than it would be if you 
 had been born deaf or an idiot. Come here, here is a 
 page I do not exactly understand." 
 
 He made me explain the whole composition to him, line 
 by line, and page by page. Oh, what a pleasure it was to 
 talk of it without reserve, to interchange opinions freely 
 with this talented, liberal-minded man ! He objected to 
 some passages in my music, finding in the methods of many 
 well-known composers a hundred reasons to censure mine ; 
 but when I had explained my conception to him, how 
 vehemently he retracted his words ! I attempted to correct 
 one line to which he objected, but he checked me. 
 
 " I '11 never speak to you again as long as you live if you 
 alter a note of it ! " he cried in a voice of thunder. " Let 
 it remain as you have written it ; or at least, let it be correc- 
 ted only by yourself, and as your own judgment may 
 prompt. This music, recollect, is not Raabzinsky's music, 
 nor Rubenstein's, but Terentieff 's ; and you should stand 
 ready to do battle for it against the whole world, if you 
 have written it in accordance with the dictates of your own 
 soul and conscience." 
 
 It was thus he had always acted himself, noble, con- 
 scientious artist that he was ! 
 
 " You Ve kept your secret well, you young rascal," he 
 growled a few minutes afterward. " So you were afraid of
 
 U I AM PROUD OP YOU, DMITRI."
 
 MY SYMPHONY. 313 
 
 your old master ! You thought, perhaps, he would compel 
 you to write music of the old-fashioned, antiquated kind, 
 eh, young man? " 
 
 " Say rather I had no confidence in myself, or in the 
 merits of my own composition." 
 
 " Simpleton ! " he exclaimed, with pretended scorn, 
 " have you neither ear nor feeling? Listen to this." 
 
 And he played a few pages of my symphony over again. 
 With what delight I listened ! No encomiums ever touched 
 me as deeply as the gruff, outspoken praises of my old 
 master. 
 
 " You must let me have this," he said the next day. " I 
 
 am going to show it to X [a famous conductor of 
 
 orchestral concerts]. I have not yet fallen so low that 
 some few doors are not open to me. Besides, you are 
 young, that is one thing in your favor. Perhaps you will 
 reach the summit of fame with a single bound. It will not 
 be with you, I hope, as it has been with me, poor old 
 owl ! I, alas ! had to toil and moil forty years before my 
 talent was conceded, even to a limited extent. You see, 
 my child, when fame comes so late in life it only makes 
 one still more bitter and dissatisfied. You did well not to 
 choose the role of actor or clown for the amusement of the 
 fashionable world. Write your chefs d'oeuvre, and let 
 others scrape away on their violins before the gaping 
 crowd. If they know you only by name, so much the 
 better for you." 
 
 He went out, taking my manuscript with him, but 
 returned soon afterwards, highly indignant. The great 
 director had glanced over my composition. He said it was 
 " original," but he absolutely refused to bring it before the 
 public. ''We have had too much of this kind of music
 
 314 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 already. It is too long, too abstruse, too Russian. Ah, 
 if it were only a balfet, now, or even an operetta ! " 
 
 Nepomuk Raabzinsky nearly knocked him down in his 
 rage and disgust. From there, he rushed to the establish- 
 ments of some of the most prominent publishers of music ; 
 but each and every one of them refused to issue my music 
 at their own expense. My master then despatched it to 
 St. Petersburg, but in a few months it was returned as 
 unavailable. 
 
 All this did not trouble me very much, however, for my 
 symphony was no sooner finished than another theme took 
 possession of my mind, and I was only waiting until my 
 examination was over to begin work on it. 
 
 My last year in the First Class passed with the swiftness 
 of a dream. 
 
 The dread ordeal was at hand. 
 
 Oh, what a terrible hour was that in which I presented 
 myself tremblingly and despondently before my judges, 
 feeling that the little I had acquired with so much diffi- 
 culty was leaving me bit by bit ! I certainly felt much 
 less frightened when I sat on the prisoners' bench in the 
 crowded court-room. 
 
 Around me was a crowd of candidates who had failed in 
 the examination of the previous year; and the sight of their 
 terrified faces and trembling hands would have deprived 
 me of the little presence of mind I had left, if the presence 
 of Serge, who was as calm and composed as ever, had not 
 partially reassured me. 
 
 At last the students of Saint- Vladimir were summoned, 
 and we seated ourselves in our turn at the long table, 
 behind which sat the examiners, clad in the University 
 uniform.
 
 MY SYMPHONY. 315 
 
 Serge is the first in the line. He is questioned, and he 
 replies calmly and clearly. The faces of the examiners, 
 clouded by the stupidity of the unfortunate youths who 
 immediately preceded us, and who are now huddled dis- 
 consolately in a corner, become more serene, as they listen 
 to his correct and admirably expressed answers. I shake 
 off the torpor that is creeping over me sufficiently to 
 rejoice at my friend's success, and the sound of his voice 
 seems to brighten up my wits a little. I resolve that I will 
 not be a coward. I have studied my best this last year. 
 Such base pusillanimity as this is unworthy of me. 
 Courage ! Avaunt ! this grim fear of proving a failure, and 
 forward, Terentieff, for the honor of Sitovka ! 
 
 I scrawl these last few words on a slip of paper and pass 
 them to Porphyre. Deeply absorbed in the examination, 
 he imprudently keeps the scrap of paper in his hand some 
 time before he reads it. One of the examiners sees it, 
 and asks him for it. Awaking from his dream, Porphyre 
 gazes in evident bewilderment at the paper, and then 
 hands it to the examiner. That gentleman opens it and 
 reads aloud with a mystified air, 
 
 " Courage ! Forward, for the honor of Sitovka ! " 
 
 Our schoolmates laugh in their sleeves; I am covered 
 with confusion. Neither Porphyre nor the examiners 
 understand this outburst of enthusiasm. 
 
 At last my turn comes. I plunge into the fray, and 
 reply with an assurance that amazes me. Courage is born 
 of deadly need, they say. I know it, by experience. I 
 answer every question ; and the examination is over before 
 I have had time to tremble. 
 
 We learn the result the following day.
 
 316 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 Serge received 5 in everything. 
 
 Porphyre received 5 in Russian History; 3 in Foreign 
 History ; 4 in Science ; I in German, and 2 in French. 
 
 Grichine received 4 in everything. 
 
 My success was truly marvellous. I had 5 even in 
 Greek ; 5 in French, and, Mirabile dictu ! 4 in Russian 
 History. 
 
 Platon Gregorov failed to pass. He only laughed, how- 
 ever. It was all the same to him. He was about to enter 
 the school of pages, and he was thinking of nothing but 
 his gorgeous new uniform. 
 
 Luvine failed ignominiously in everything. 
 
 Podnier was acquitting himself admirably, when some- 
 one discovered in his watch, which he was opening and 
 shutting in front of him with an abstracted air, a tiny paper, 
 a positive ckeftTceuvre of patience and microscopic hand- 
 writing, containing the answers to the principal questions. 
 He was refused admission, and debarred from future 
 examinations, so he can never again present himself as a 
 candidate at this University. 
 
 Sacha passed a brilliant examination. Her marks were 
 excellent. 
 
 It was over; we were free. Our course at the Gym- 
 nasium was ended. 
 
 We all dined with the Kratkines that evening, and I 
 accompanied Sacha and Baron Bekounine there. While 
 an elderly servant-woman was assisting Sacha to remove 
 her cloak, she suddenly seized her hand, with a piercing 
 cry. Sacha, greatly frightened, inquired if she had hurt 
 her without being aware of it. She shook her head, and 
 pointed to the bracelet Sacha always wears.
 
 MY SYMPHONY. 317 
 
 It is a chain of gold and platinum, the gift of Mme. 
 Lebanoff, and attached to it is the little medallion Sacha 
 had about her neck when I found her on the shore of 'the 
 haunted lake. We all crowded around the old woman to 
 question her, but she only shook her head and wept. At 
 last Mme. Kratkine led her away, and we entered the 
 drawing-room. M. Kratkine examined Sacha's me- 
 dallion long and carefully; then taking me aside, he 
 asked me a number of questions about my little Sacha. 
 I told him all I knew, and he jotted down the date and a 
 few notes in his memorandum-book. Though the incident 
 created quite an excitement at the time, nothing came of it, 
 and it was soon forgotten. 
 
 We shall be University students soon, and wear the 
 famous uniform with blue revers and a jaunty little sword. 
 All three of us have decided to study law, though Porphyre 
 has a secret penchant for theology. I chose law because 
 Serge is going to study it, and Porphyre, I think, because 
 I chose it. 
 
 Our pleasant vacation is affording us the rest we all need 
 after the hard work of the past year. My symphony 
 continues to be rejected everywhere; but none of my 
 friends seem to lose faith in me on that account, nor do I 
 lose faith in myself, though it may sound presumptuous in 
 me to say so.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 A STRANGE WEDDING-GIFT. CONCLUSION. 
 
 OUR law studies began as soon as we entered the 
 University; and I must confess that while I was 
 endeavoring to initiate myself into the mysteries of Rus- 
 sian law, I often sighed heavily at the thought of my 
 neglected music, for I could not devote myself to it now, 
 as I had done in the past. I was obliged to live, and also 
 to prepare myself to earn my living in the future. " Not 
 until my fortune is made," I often said to myself, "can I 
 allow myself time for musical composition, for imbuing 
 with life all the sprightly, melancholy, or weird fancies 
 that are continually haunting me." 
 
 I had selected for the subject of the opera I meant to 
 write some day the legend of Sir Launcelot, which I 
 found in an old French book, and which made a deep im- 
 pression on me. Whenever I had a few minutes to spare, 
 I seized pen and paper and composed a few bars. My 
 symphony had given me a great deal of trouble; but it 
 did not take me long to discover that the composition of 
 an opera, with its choruses, its many different r61es, im- 
 portant and unimportant, its orchestral effects and ballet, 
 was a much more difficult and laborious task. But with 
 what joy I devoted myself to it ! The great English poet 
 was certainly right when he said: "The labor we de- 
 light in physics pain." When I had an opportunity to
 
 A STRANGE WEDDING-GIFT. 319 
 
 thus indulge myself, I became completely oblivious to 
 everything that was going on around me ; I should even 
 have forgotten to eat or sleep if my faithful Porphyre 
 had not brought me back to the realities of life. 
 
 And this reminds me that when we put on the toga 
 virilis, or, in other words, the dark blue uniform of the 
 University students, with a cap rakishly perched on one 
 ear, and a sword about the size of a darning needle, my 
 friend Porphyre' s character underwent a sudden and com- 
 plete transformation. 
 
 I admit that we all assumed a rather pompous air when 
 we donned our uniforms, and that it was with no little 
 secret pride I twirled my budding mustache and fingered 
 the handle of my sword as I sallied forth from my lodg- 
 ings ; but my airs and graces were as nothing in compari- 
 son with those Porphyre assumed. 
 
 Do you recollect the time when you neglected your 
 dress so shamefully, O Porphyre Agathonovitch ; when 
 you entertained such an insurmountable dread of water ; 
 when you wore patched clothing, and heavy boots that you 
 kept copiously greased with mutton tallow? And now, 
 to think of your being suddenly metamorphosed into a 
 dude of the most pronounced type ! No tailor could sat- 
 isfy you as to fit, or make the garments that covered your 
 stalwart limbs tight enough; and your fastidious god- 
 father, proud of your success, having allowed you a cer- 
 tain amount per month for your expenses, we strongly 
 suspected you of spending the greater part of it in the 
 purchase of perfumes, neckties, pointed-toed shoes, and 
 white gloves, to say nothing of the hairdresser, who 
 must have extorted incredible sums from you, judging 
 from the many hours you spent at his establishment.
 
 320 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 We noticed too 
 
 That Porphyre's bearing had become exceedingly airy 
 and affected, and came to the conclusion that he must be 
 taking dancing lessons ; 
 
 That he never appeared on the street without a glass in 
 his right eye, although his oldest friends had never be- 
 fore suspected him of being at all near-sighted; 
 
 That he had fallen into a habit of star-gazing; 
 
 That he was wont to heave ponderous sighs upon all 
 occasions ; and that his eyes, probably from being so often 
 directed heavenward, had assumed a dreamy expression 
 not at all in harmony with the dear fellow's florid com- 
 plexion and pug nose. 
 
 Of course, we marvelled greatly at this wonderful 
 change; but when we attempted to question him con- 
 cerning the cause of it, he maintained a sullen silence, 
 and no one ever succeeded in extorting any explanation 
 from him. 
 
 The months and years passed slowly but peacefully by. 
 Our course of study at the University was drawing to a 
 close ; and it would soon be necessary for me to come to 
 a final decision in regard to a profession. The more I 
 studied law, the less I liked it ; music was my one absorb- 
 ing passion, and it seemed to me that I really lived only 
 while I was composing. My symphony had been on my 
 hands a long time. Tired of offering it to Russian 
 publishers, who refused it with remarkable unanimity, 
 Maestro Ne'pomuk, who had many friends in Paris, 
 finally decided to send it there; and though I was not 
 very sanguine, I made no objection. Everywhere in 
 Russia we had received the same response : " The music 
 is too abstract, too complicated, too profound. The
 
 A STRANGE WEDDING-GIFT. 321 
 
 public must be amused. If a young mdn wishes to suc- 
 ceed, he must begin by writing something light and deli- 
 cate, not attempt to take people by storm, as it were. 
 After he has made his reputation, he can be as eccentric 
 and display as much individuality as he pleases." 
 
 These criticisms excited my old master's intense indig- 
 nation. I think he even found it hard to forgive me for 
 having written a little book of popular songs, which a 
 publisher accepted, and which yielded me a small sum 
 of money. Though I in no wise transgressed the laws 
 of my beloved art in what I wrote, I confined myself to 
 transcribing the simple and charming melodies one hears 
 in our fields and forests ; and they proved an immediate 
 success. The publisher having purchased my manuscript 
 for a stipulated amount, I had no share in the profits he 
 subsequently derived from it; but I have often been told, 
 and I have since had an opportunity to see for myself, 
 that my collection of folk-songs has a place in almost 
 every Russian household. 
 
 After Sacha's graduation, she had no difficulty in secur- 
 ing older pupils, and she was now earning her own living 
 bravely, loved and respected alike by old and young, 
 the acknowledged queen of our little circle. One June 
 evening how distinctly I remember it! Sacha, Arca- 
 dion S6monovitch, Maestro Nepomuk, and I were sitting 
 in the parlor of her little cottage. The two old gen- 
 tlemen were enjoying their daily game of chess; and 
 Sacha, seated at the piano, was softly humming an air 
 from my opera, which I had brought for her to try. 
 
 Suddenly there was a quick ring of the door-bell. 
 
 " A telegram for Professor Raabzinsky, forwarded from 
 his house," said old Mikoulinia.
 
 322 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 The maestro hastily tore open the envelope and glanced 
 at the contents; then, with an exclamation of delight, he 
 handed it to me. 
 
 The words that greeted my eager eyes were as follows : 
 
 PARIS, June 4. 
 
 Symphony accepted. Will be performed at the Conservatory 
 as soon as the composer can come to direct the rehearsals. 
 Travelling expenses paid. The symphony will be published 
 under the supervision of the composer, immediately after the first 
 rendition. 
 
 Our delight can be imagined, but hardly described. 
 In his rapture, the maestro rumpled his long hair more 
 wildly than ever, and even promised to come in person 
 to witness my triumph, for that it would be a triumph 
 was almost certain now. I was profoundly happy, for 
 I had been more deeply pained than I was willing to 
 admit to see my work rejected by every one, and some- 
 times I had almost lost confidence in myself; but 
 now, what an enchanting future I saw opening before 
 me! 
 
 " It is to you that I am indebted for this good for- 
 tune, Maestro Nepomuk," I exclaimed, seizing him by 
 the hand. 
 
 "Nonsense, nonsense!" he replied gayly; "I taught 
 you counterpoint, it is true, and gave you many a 
 sound cuff in the bargain ; but the sacred fire was it I 
 who gave you that? One can do nothing without that. 
 You have it, my boy; I said so the first time I heard you 
 sing. But now you have made a good start, don't allow 
 yourself to loiter by the way; in other words, don't think 
 to rest upon your laurels, or pander to the depraved taste
 
 A STRANGE WEDDING-GIFT. 323 
 
 of the day. Never forget the reverence due to your art, 
 Dmitri. Never forget that, and set to work as you have 
 never worked before. " 
 
 "When will you start?" inquired Arcadion Semono- 
 vitch. 
 
 The question startled me. What ! leave Moscow, leave 
 Sacha ! 
 
 Without pausing to answer our old friend's question, 
 I took Sacha by the hand and led her out into the little 
 garden. 
 
 "Sacha, dear Sacha," I said eagerly, "if I must go, tell 
 me first that you will consent to share my fortunes, and 
 become my wife, the wife of a poor musician who has 
 neither money nor lands to offer you, but who can accom- 
 plish wonders, it seems to me, if he is blessed with 
 the hope of having you for his wife some day. Tell me, 
 does my poverty frighten you ; or will you indeed accept 
 me for your husband ? " 
 
 "Dmitri," she replied, with her clear, true eyes look- 
 ing straight up into mine, "with you, I fear nothing. It 
 is the thought of separation that dismays me; but if I 
 know it is only for a short time, I shall be resigned, and 
 wait for you courageously, even contentedly, sustained by 
 a certainty of your return at no distant day." 
 
 I was about to imprint a tender kiss upon the brow of 
 my dear betrothed when the sound of approaching foot- 
 steps made us both turn our heads. 
 
 " So I 've found you at last ! " exclaimed Porphyre, for 
 it was he who was advancing toward us. " I could n't 
 imagine what had become of you ! " 
 
 I told him that my symphony had been accepted at last, 
 and that I should soon be obliged to leave for Paris.
 
 324 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 Poor old Porphyre! It certainly must have been his 
 evil genius that suddenly impelled him to seat himself 
 between us, and take each of us by the hand. 
 
 "Listen to me, my dear friends," he said, heaving a 
 portentous sigh ; " I have had a heavy load upon my mind 
 for a long time, and as you are going away, Dmitri, I can 
 be silent no longer. Are you not both companions of my 
 childhood, my only friends? Dmitri, I can certainly 
 speak without restraint before you ; and when I beseech 
 Sacha to grant me her hand in marriage, I feel sure that 
 you will not be the one to object, my brother my 
 
 "On the contrary, I am the one, the very one. You 
 certainly make a mistake, a very great mistake," I re- 
 sponded angrily. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " inquired Porphyre, with an ex- 
 pression of seraphic sweetness. 
 
 "This is really too much," I continued, deeply exas- 
 perated. 
 
 " If I had had the slightest suspicion of your prefer- 
 ence, my dear Porphyre, I should certainly have given 
 you some inkling of the real facts of the case," inter- 
 rupted Sacha, soothingly; "but I had no idea that you 
 had thus honored me, so you will not be angry with me, 
 I am sure, when I tell you that I am already betrothed. 
 We shall remain the same good friends, I trust, as you 
 said a few minutes ago. Old playmates like ourselves do 
 not change in their feelings ; they 
 
 "Who is he? Tell me his name!" cried Porphyre, 
 frantically. 
 
 " Come, come, Porphyre, calm yourself. Don't put on 
 such a tragical air, I beg of you. Who could it be but 
 but Dmitri!"
 
 " IT IS TO MY DEAR SACHA THAT I DEDICATE THESE RECOL- 
 LECTIONS OF MY LIFE."
 
 A STRANGE BEDDING-GIFT. 327 
 
 " You ! " exclaimed Porphyre, " you ! He ! he ! " he re- 
 peated, even more tragically. Springing to his feet, 
 he paced wildly to and fro a few minutes; then, after 
 having returned to us and uttered in lugubrious tones the 
 familiar words, "It's just my luck,'" he walked rapidly 
 away, leaving us thoroughly uncomfortable. 
 
 Fortunately, the arrival of Serge a few minutes after- 
 ward changed the current of our thoughts. 
 
 We told him the good news; and how cordially he 
 congratulated us ! How thoroughly he seemed to share 
 our happiness ! I believe he even guessed the cause of 
 Sacha's glowing cheeks and radiant eyes, though he made 
 no allusion to his suspicions. 
 
 I left for France the following week, and two months 
 after my arrival in Paris my symphony was performed at 
 the Conservatory. What a blissful hour it was for me 
 when I heard this creation of my brain rendered with 
 exquisite skill before a large and appreciative audience! 
 I was almost overwhelmed with admiration for my own 
 work, and could hardly refrain from joining in the en- 
 thusiastic applause that burst forth as the last note died 
 away. Why should I not admit that it was a great suc- 
 cess ? The composer was called for again and again ; and 
 the next morning, I could truly say, with Byron, 
 
 " I woke and found myself famous." 
 
 Those were halcyon days that I spent in that magnifi- 
 cent city, so well adapted to the needs and tastes of a 
 musician in many ways. I was everywhere welcomed 
 with a kindness and cordiality that charmed me, and 
 made me dearly love France and her people. The publi- 
 cation of my symphony was begun at once, and every day
 
 328 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 I received proofs, which I spent many delightful hours in 
 correcting. Upon the title-page was engraved the name 
 of my honored instructor, to whom I had dedicated it ; 
 and I had a copy printed on silver-edged vellum for 
 Sacha. With what joy and pride I gazed at the orna- 
 mental letters of the title, "The Steppes," before send- 
 ing it to my dear betrothed! With what tenderness I 
 inscribed her dear name on the spotless page! 
 
 Only a few days more, and I should see her and my 
 beloved country again. 
 
 Soon after my arrival in Paris, I received a magnani- 
 mous letter from Porphyre, in which he assured me that 
 he never could or would have consented to relinquish 
 Sacha to any one but me. He also announced that his 
 elder brother having refused to become a priest, he him- 
 self was about to abandon his law studies forever, and 
 immure himself in a monastery. This gloomy resolve 
 pained me a little; but I consoled myself with the assur- 
 ance that he would soon think better of it. 
 
 I returned to Moscow, and my marriage with Sacha 
 took place the following spring. Porphyre, who seemed 
 to have entirely recovered from his disappointment, and 
 Serge acted as groomsmen on the eventful day. 
 
 When Sacha, veiled in fleecy tulle, and radiantly beau- 
 tiful in her bridal robes, entered the little parlor where a 
 small party of faithful and devoted friends was await- 
 ing her, M. Kratkine stepped forward, and imprint- 
 ing a fatherly kiss on her forehead, presented her with a 
 bulky, official-looking envelope. 
 
 "This is my wedding present, my dear children," he 
 said. "It could not be got ready any sooner." 
 
 Sacha opened the envelope with trembling fingers, for
 
 A STRANGE WEDDING-GIFT. 329 
 
 our friend's tone and manner strangely excited us. In 
 it she found a sheet of parchment covered with official 
 stamps and seals. 
 
 It was a certificate of the birth and baptism of Le'fla 
 Alexee'fevna Berezoff, daughter of Alexis Ivanovitch Bere"- 
 zoff and Leila his wife, daughter of Kouldja, a Tartar 
 chief of Trans-Caucasia. 
 
 We were speechless with astonishment. 
 
 " It is the certificate of your own birth, my dear child," 
 continued M. Kratkine. " You are the only child of 
 Alexis Ivanovitch Berezoff, brother of Nicholas Bere- 
 zoff, and the friend and schoolmate of Dmitri's father." 
 
 M. Kratkine then told us how his attention had 
 been first called to Sacha's locket by Katia, an old ser- 
 vant who was now in his employ, but who had been in 
 her youth the nurse of the Berezoff boys. They were 
 twins, and resembled each other so closely in their in- 
 fancy, that their mother and their nurse could distin- 
 guish them only by two lockets bearing their initials, 
 which they always wore around their necks. After they 
 grew up, they continued to wear the lockets under their 
 clothing. M. Kratkine had procured the one belong- 
 ing to Nicholas Ivanovitch, and now showed it to us. 
 It was precisely like Sacha's in every particular except 
 the initials, which were N. I. B., instead of A. I. B. , as 
 on hers. 
 
 For several months M. Kratkine had been quietly col- 
 lecting the necessary proofs of my bride's parentage, 
 but had said nothing to us about it, as he wished to spare 
 us unnecessary anxiety and possible disappointment He 
 had discovered, not without great difficulty, however, and 
 many long and tedious researches, that Alexis Ivano-
 
 330 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 vitch Be're'zoff, while travelling in Asia, had fallen into 
 the hands of a Tartar tribe that was then at war with 
 Russia. The chief's daughter Leila fell in love with the 
 handsome Russian, and resolved to save him. She suc- 
 ceeded ; and they fled together, and were married shortly 
 afterward by a priest of the Greek Church. After a long 
 pursuit, old Kouldja, Leila's father, and her brothers suc- 
 ceeded in recapturing the fugitives, who lived with the 
 tribe, closely guarded, for more than a year. A little 
 daughter was born to them, and received the name of 
 Leila Alexeelevna. But the health of Alexis Ivanovitch, 
 always delicate, gave way during this enforced exile, 
 and shortly after his daughter's birth he died of a slow 
 fever. 
 
 The parents of the young widow began to tyrannize 
 over her worse than ever, and her life became intoler- 
 able. When his granddaughter was about three years 
 of age, old Kouldja took it into his head to marry his 
 daughter to a neighboring chief and ally. Driven to des- 
 peration, poor Leila resolved to flee to her husband's 
 brother, of whom she had often heard Alexis speak in 
 terms of the deepest affection. Before his death, her 
 husband had given her the locket he always wore, assur- 
 ing her that his brother would certainly recognize it. 
 The young widow succeeded in making her escape, and 
 joined a roving band of Cossacks that was about return- 
 ing to Russia. Fatigue and privations compelled her to 
 pause, in the last stages of exhaustion, on the borders of 
 the steppes, not far from the village of Sitovka. 
 
 "You know the rest," added M. Kratkine. 
 
 It was impossible to doubt the truth of these state- 
 ments. The dates and all needful proofs were before us.
 
 A STRANGE WEDDING-GIFT. 331 
 
 Sacha was not only the daughter of Alexis Ivanovitch, 
 and niece of the benefactor I had so unfortunately lost 
 on my arrival in Moscow, but she was also the sole heir 
 to the large Berezoff property. 
 
 We spend most of our time in Sitovka, in the home of 
 our childhood, which we have rebuilt and enlarged so 
 that it will easily accommodate all the dear friends who 
 were so kind to us in our hours of adversity; and it is 
 with sincere regret that we leave it when we are obliged 
 to go to Moscow, Paris, or St. Petersburg to superintend 
 the rendition of my works. 
 
 Our old friend Arcadion Semonovitch lives with us; 
 and Maestro Nepomuk spends his summers under our 
 roof. He is as eccentric as ever ; but his temper has 
 been greatly improved by association with my Sacha, for 
 so we continue to call her in memory of my dear father, 
 who gave her that name. 
 
 Porphyre very sensibly abandoned the idea of burying 
 himself in a monastery; and celibacy not being enjoined 
 upon our priests, the Greek Church even insisting, as a 
 general rule, that candidates for the priesthood shall 
 marry before they take orders, he married the eldest 
 daughter of our old friend Tatiana. His wife is a real 
 Russian beauty, with flaxen hair, blue eyes, and rosy 
 cheeks ; and Porphyre seems to be very happy, and much 
 more lucky than in former years. 
 
 Grichine is a prominent physician in Moscow. He is 
 a rising man in his profession ; but he has not accumu- 
 lated a fortune, and never will. He is too generous to 
 the poor. 
 
 Serge entered the diplomatic service, where his many
 
 332 
 
 SCHOOLBOY DAYS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 and versatile talents have already gained him an envi- 
 able distinction. 
 
 We met the Princess Lebanoff during one of our recent 
 visits to Paris, and the poor lady evinced the greatest de- 
 light on seeing Sacha again. The count, her husband, 
 has proved himself well worthy of my dear wife's dis- 
 trust. He is a thoroughly heartless and unscrupulous 
 man, who has impoverished his wife to pay his gambling 
 debts. 
 
 My faithful dog Snap is still alive. He is as devo- 
 ted and affectionate as ever; but his sight is dim, and 
 old age weighs heavily upon him. We cannot hope tc 
 keep him with us much longer. 
 
 I have never heard anything more in relation to 
 Capiton Strodtmann. 
 
 It is to my dear Sacha, the companion of my youth, the 
 inspiration of my manhood, my beloved wife, that I dedi- 
 cate these recollections of my life.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 Form L9-10m-3,'48(A7920)444 
 
 
 
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