3687_little russian masterpieces leskov dostoevsky tolstoy

8/4/2019 3687_little Russian Masterpieces Leskov Dostoevsky Tolstoy

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LITTLE RUSSIAN MASTERPIECESIn Four Volumes

*Alexander Sergeyevitch PuskinMasquerading A Good Shot The Snowstorm TheQueen of Spades.Michail Yurievitch LermontofA Travelling Episode.

* *M. E. Saltykof-StchedrinA Christmas Sermon The Peasant and the Two Excel-

lencies The Lost Conscience The Eagle, Patron ofLearning.D. N. Mamin-SibiriakMisgir The Father Elect.K. Y. SlutchefskyCan the End Justify the Means Coward or Hero ?

Zygmunt NiedzwieckiIn May.

Glieb Ivanovitch UspenskyInspecting the Bride.Helen ZeisingerChristmas Eve in the Forest.* * *

Nicolas Stepanovitch LesskofThe Simpleton (Douratchok) The Pearl NecklaceFriends From an Old Chronicle.Ignatius DombrovskyLegend on the Saturday Sunbeam.Th. M. DostoyefskyThe Beggar Boy at Christ's Christmas Tree.L. N. TolstoiThree Deaths. * * * *Constantino Mikhailovitch StaniukovitchBobtail The Convict.V. G. Korolenko"The Slayer "Winter.


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LittleRussianMasterpiecesChosen and Translated from the

Original Russian byZenaide A. Ragozin^

With an Introduction and Biographical Notesby

S. N. Syromiatnikof

* * *Stories by

Letskof Dombrovtky Dostoiefsky Toletoi

G. P. Putnam's SonsNew York and Londonbe fmtcfcerbocfccr prcea

1920


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pa

v.3

COPYRIGHT, 1920BY

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS


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Introduction

MORE than ninety per cent, of the Russianpeople never read "short stories."They create them, tell them, listen to them.The popular Russian short story, is the skazkaor fairy tale, which belongs to the provinceof folklore, probably the richest, most varied,wise, and clever of all folklores of Europe,having absorbed all the richest elements ofthe East and some of the West. But theshort story in the sense in which it is under-stood by Americans, is the product of thejournalization of literature, of the daily press,which did not develop in Russia until theseventies of the nineteenth century. Thepredecessor of the newspaper, the big monthly,created the "serial," the three-volume novel,usually covering the year with its twelvevoluminous instalments.Up to the eighties of the last century life


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Introduction

moved in the immense country at a slow pace ;time was cheap, and the middle and higherclasses demanded of writers either big novelsor stories of some thirty to forty pages, whichcould be read through in the course of a longwinter evening around the family samovar.Modern Russian literature took its begin-

ning from the great Pushkin who producedmatchless examples not alone of poetry, butalso of prose. He gave us our first shortstories, those selected for the present set.But all that is really great in Russian litera-ture must be sought in novels, not in stories.Until quite lately, the latter were but crumbsfrom the rich banquet of Russian literature.To select from these crumbs what is mosttypical, most beautiful, most artistic, whatgives the deepest insight into the Russiannational character and nature, what is finestnot alone as to mastery of form, but also asto matter such is the object of the presentcollection.

Russia is a deep, wide, abundant river,[iv]


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Introduction

slowly winding its way over the vast expanseof history. Foreigners are fascinated by itstempests, but the waves these tempests raiseaffect but slightly the deeper layers of itswaters. At the time of great wars and revolu-tions the life of the rural population, howeverdisturbed on the whole, flows along the samelines, ruled by the same laws of climate andsoil, as it did at the time of the great intes-tine disturbances of the beginning of theseventeenth century. The aristocratizationof life goes steadily on; the upper classes un-dergo a gradual process of weathering, newlayers take their places, but the bulk of theagricultural population remains, now as be-fore, the great reservoir of physical, moral,and intellectual forces, determined by condi-tions of climate, soil, and a past, lived on theboundary between Europe and Asia.In her choice of material the editor has byno means made it her object to supply sensa-tional reading. Were the majority of theRussian people composed of assassins, revo-

(vj


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Introduction

lutionists, mystics, dreamers of abstractions,Russia would not have outlived the greatwars with the Turkish nomads of the ninthto twelfth centuries, the great Tartar invasionof the thirteenth to fifteenth centuries, andthe great invasions from the West whichhave succeeded each other with mathematicalregularity at the beginning of each of the fourlast centuries: 1612 by the Poles in Moscow,1709, the Swedes in Little Russia; 1812, theFrench in Moscow; 1917, the German in Rigaand possibly farther east. . . .The last three volumes will be devoted to

the short story of the latest period from theabortive revolution of 1905 to our own days,when the short story has been forced by thedemands of the daily and weekly press intothe form familiar to England and the UnitedStates.

S. N. SYROMIATNIKOF.

[vi]


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From the EditorIT

is a trite, but everlastingly true axiom,that a people's life and spirit (and what

is literature but the quintessence of both?) arefashioned chiefly by the nature of the coun-try it inhabits. Now Russian nature is notjocose, not sensational; she is serious, severehalf of the year; in places stern; and whereand when she smiles, her smile is serious,gentle, winning, not conquering; pensive anda wee bit sad, but all the more penetratingand endearing more deeply, enduringly sothan the gorgeous, dazzling landscapes ofEast and South.

Accordingly, until quite lately and thatmostly in imitation of others Russian litera-ture has not been sensational or unchaste;it has been chiefly sympathetic and educa-tional, sincere throughout and altruistic inspirit ; serious always, if anything, too serious,


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From the Editorlacking vivacity, unbending as is Russianlife itself meaning the life of the millionsand millions, not that of a thin layer of cityidlers imitating "the West," and after themanner of imitators, taking the worst of theirmodel and leaving out the good. This, bythe way, applies to much of the sensationalfiction of these latter days, too often glaringlybrutal and licentious.The main difficulty to be encountered inthe selection of material for the present set

lies in the comparative scarcity, up to a recentdate, of really short stories. Most of our bestwriters have shorter stories, which, on theirmerits, it would be desirable to include, butthey are not short enough, they would goas novelettes, A selection of such storiesmight at some future time form an interestingseparate collection.

After Tchekhof , there is no lack of material.The abortive revolution of 1905, the Japanesewar, the present war, and the present revolu-tion yield an inexhaustible mine, in which,

[viii]


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From the Editorhowever, comparatively few nuggets repay along and tedious search.Here again the recent rush of translations

from the Russian make it difficult to avoid"overlapping" in the choice of stories, sinceit is impossible, in the number, to know exactlywhich have already figured in the lists ofpublished translations.

For the present it is the editor's objectand hope to present American readers with aselection which may not only prove accept-able in itself, but reveal to them some lessfamiliar aspects of Russian thought andcharacter and so help to complete their con-ception of this richly and variously gifted race.

Z. RAGOZIN.PETROGRAD,


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ContentsPACK

INTRODUCTION ...... iiiFROM THE EDITOR viiNICOLAS STEPANOVITCH LESSKOF i

THE SIMPLETON (Douratchdk) ... 3THE PEARL NECKLACE .... 20FRIENDS....... 52FROM AN OLD CHRONICLE ... 99

IGNATIUS DOMBROVSKYLEGEND ON THE SATURDAY SUNBEAM . 165

TH. M. DOSTOYEFSKYTHE BEGGAR BOY AT CHRIST'S CHRISTMAS

TREE 173L. N. TOLSTOI

THREE DEATHS 187


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N. S. Lesskof


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Nicolas Stepanovitch Lesskofi 831-1895

I ESSKOF, whose writings bear the stamp of great*- originality in thought and form, was destined tosuffer obloquy and almost persecution, for his convic-tions, not, however, on the part of the government, buton that of progressive, radical Russia.A native of the province of Orlof, he was the son of apriest who had been ennobled for services rendered inpublic life. His mother belonged to an old noble family.Hegrew up in the house of a wealthy uncle (his mother'sbrother) and visited the "gymnasium" of the city ofOrlof, but was forced to leave before graduating,because his father's sudden death, followed by a firewhich destroyed their entire property, left him destitute.At the age of seventeen he obtained a situation ascopyist in the provincial criminal court, but was soonpromoted to the post of secretary to the board of con-scription in Kief. In the course of his duties he had totravel much in the province, and that gave him anopportunity to study the life of the people. In 1857he left public service and took up a position as managerof large estates, and in 1860 his first timid attempts atliterary work were published in sundry magazines.In 1861 he migrated to IVu rsburg, settled there, anddevoted himself entirely to literature.He made friends of two fiery political agents, theEnglishman Arthur Benny and the Little Russian

iporenko, who (Hid a prisoner in the Petropav-lofsky for: ^kof and his friends contributed toThe Bee of the North (a daily paper). In the summerof 1862 Petersburg was visited by a rHre calamity; ain


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Lesskofseries of great conflagrations breaking out in the mostpopulous parts of the city and laid by the populace tothe charge of the nihilist students ; and notwithstandingthat Lesskof, by spoken and written word, strenuouslyprotested against this slanderous accusation, the "pro-gressive" part of society turned from him and brandedhim as a partisan of serfdom, a spy and informer and apaid agent of the government.Lesskof then went abroad, determined to write andpublish the truth concerning the so-called "liberatingmovement," which a lot of low, immoral people werejoining and discrediting. In 1864 appeared his novelNo Thoroughfare and in 1870-72 another, At DaggersDrawn. Thenceforth the gifted writer was definitivelycommitted to the detested ranks of " retregressists. "He next turned his talented pen to the portraying ofthe clergy, their life and manners. ^His next novel, TheCathedral Clergy, which came out in 1872 was a greatsuccess; so were his stories The Righteous Man andLittle Stories of Episcopal Life (1878); but all theselater books excited the greatest indignation among theclergy. The Liberals now forgave him for showing upthe Nihilists, and the government deprived him of theposition which he occupied in the Department of PublicInstruction (1883).In the eighties Lesskof began a series of stories of theearly Christian age. His sound judicial mind had asceptical turn which made him incapable of mysticalexaltation. He was a practical Christian, a follower ofthe social Christ, but not a churchman. He lived alonely life. His old friends looked on him with dis-trust; new ones approached him diffidently.In fertile invention and richness of language he hasfew rivals in Russian literature, and frequently is well-

nigh untranslatable.S. N. SYRON.

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The Simpleton (Douratchbk)By N. S. Lesskof

WHO is to be considered a fool (dourok] ?It would seem as though any onemight know. Yet, if we compare notes tofind out different people's views, it will turnout that no two people's are alike. Theacademical dictionary, which examines eachword in all its acceptations, defines"fool" as follows: a feeble-minded person,imbecile, silly, devoid of reason, a buffoon.The diminutive douratchok softens themeaning and may be rendered by "simple-ton." This explanation would seem to coverthe ground; yet, in real life fools or simpletonsarr sometimes met, who, while thus termed,are neither silly nor devoid of reason. Theyare strange creatures, and of one such I intendto tell.

[3]


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LesskofThere was in my native village a homeless

orphan boy, a serf, known by the name ofPanka. He grew up among the menials ofthe manor house, wore what he was given,and lived on what food was left from the mealsof the woman who tended the cows and herchildren. His official status was that of"general helper," which means that all thosewho had any definite duties about the houseor grounds had the right to make him do theirwork, whatever that was, and he was workingunceasingly. I seem to see him now beforeme. In winter time, and our winters arefierce, we children would get up and runto the windows, and there would be Panka,bent double, hauling a hand-sled loaded withbundles of hay or straw and baskets withgrain and other small feed for cattle andfowls. So that, while we were just risingfrom our beds, he had already worked him-self tired, and it was seldom we could findhim snatching a moment's rest in the cow-shed, munching a hunch of bread and

[4J


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The Simpletonwashing it down with water from a woodenscoop.Sometimes we would ask him :"Pray, why do you eat nothing but dry

bread?""How so, dry?" he would laugh, "isn't

this nice pure water, to wet it with?""Why don't you ask for some cabbage or

a cucumber, or something?"But he would only shake his head and reply :"Oh, nonsense. I have eaten my fill, thank

the Lord."Whereupon he would straighten his girdle

and go back to work, hauling now one thing,now another. There was no such thing as asurcease of work for him, for everybody calledon him to "help." It was lie who cleansedthe stables and cow-house, who gave thecattle their fodder, who drove the sheep towater; and, of an evening, his day's workdone, he would be plaiting bast shoes forhimself and others, the last to go to bed andthe first to rise, usually before daybreak. He

[*]


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Lesskofwas always very poorly and scantily clad. Andnobody ever cared; there was always theexcuse :"Oh, he does not mind; he is a simpleton,

you know."" In what way is he a simpleton? ""In every way.""For example?""What need of examples? There's thatwoman now: she gives all the cucumbers and

potatoes to her children, never one to him.Well, he never asks for anything and doesnot even complain. The idiot ! "We children, of course, were unable tomake out the right or wrong of the matter,

and, although we had never heard Pankasay anything foolish and could testify to hiskindness, for he used to make us little wind-mills and other toys out of birch bark, still,hearing everybody in the house call himsimpleton, we did so too, and no one disputedit, and soon something occurred which estab-lished the fact beyond dispute.


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The SimpletonWe had a manager, an extremely strict

and stern man, who delighted in punishingfor the slightest offence. As he drove hissulky about the estate, he used to sweep theplace with his glance, looking for somethingto find fault with, and if anything was wronganywhere, he would stop short, call the cul-prit to him, and issue his orders :"Go this minute to the office and tell thestdrost (bailiff), in my name, to give youtwenty-five stripes, and if you cheat, I willhave you punished doubly tonight in mypresence."Xo one ever dared to beg for pardon,knowing that he hated it and would only

increase the punishment.One day, in summer time, this martinet,

on one of his inspecting tours, caught sightof some colts disporting themselves in theyoung corn, not so much eating as tramplingit and tearing up the roots with their hoofs.He was furious.The duty of looking after the colts had


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Lesskofbeen entrusted that summer to Petrusha, ason of that same dairy-woman Anna whowould not spare a potato for Panka, but gaveall to her own children. Petrusha was abouttwelve years old at the time, but of muchsmaller and more delicate build than Panka,and the village lads used to tease him and callhim milksop, because he was his mother'spet, not inured to work, and a poor fighter.That morning early he had driven the coltsout into the dewy meadow, but, feeling chilly,had sat down and wrapped his coat closelyaround him; then, as he got warm, sleep hadstolen upon him, and the colts had strayedinto the corn.The manager, coming upon the scene,

struck the lad with his whip and said to him :" Let Panka attend for a while to both yourwork and his own, and you go straight to theoffice and tell the man on duty there to giveyou twenty stripes. If it is not done before Iget home, you shall receive a double dose inmy presence."


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The SimpletonHe spoke and was gone.Poor Petrusha stood dissolved in tears; he

trembled in every limb, for he had neverbeen punished with rods before. He ap-pealed to Panka."Panka, brother dear, I am sore afraid.. . . Tell me, what am I to do?"Panka patted him on the head, smoothing

his hair, and spoke soothingly :" I too was afraid. But what is to be done?

. . . Christ suffered stripes. ..."But the lad only wept more desperately

and kept repeating:"I'm afraid ! Afraid to go and afraid not to

go. ... Better throw myself into the river."Panka reasoned and exhorted him long and

insistently, but to no purpose, and at lastsaid:

"Well, then, you stop here and attend toboth my work and your own. while I runover and see what I can do; maybe Godwill take pity on you, seeing you are such alittle coward."


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Lesskof4'And what are you going to do about it?"

asked Petrusha."Never mind that; I have thought of

something. I'll do my best."He ran across the field, straight to the manor

as fast as he could go, and returned in anhour, smiling."Do not worry," he said; "I've fixed itall. You need not go. You are not to bepunished."

Petrusha thought: "I suppose I must be-lieve him," and did not go. That eveningthe manager inquired at the office :

' ' Did a shepherd boy come here this morn-ing to get a whipping?"

"Yes, sir.""And did you give it to him?""We did all right.""You laid it on properly?""We gave it him good and hot."So the thing passed over. It was only

later that it became known that it was notthe shepherd boy who got the whipping, but


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The SimpletonPanka. _The story got about the house andthe village, and everybody had a laugh atPanka. And so Petrusha escaped."Well," people said, "since the fool took

it on himself, you cannot well punish thesame offence twice."And now, say, did not our Panka show him-

self on arrant fool on this occasion:*So he lived on and on, year in and year out.Some years later the Crimean War broke

out, and recruits were levied. A great wailwent up in the village; no one is anxious forthe hardships and dangers of war. Most ofall, mothers lamented over their sons; everymother grudges her boy. Panka by thattime had reached man's estate, and one fineday he came into the presence of the masterand offered himself:

"Will you, please, order me taken to thecity," he said, "to be enrolled as a soldier'""What whim is this:* " wondered the master."Just my fancy," he returned."But why ? Think t wice of it .

"


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Lesskof"No," he insisted; "there is no time for

thinking.""No time? What do you mean?""Do you not hear them weep and wail allaround you? Now there is no one to weepand wail for me, I am loved only of theLord. So I want to go."They tried to talk him out of his resolve."Look at yourself," they said, "how un-

couth you are. If you go to the war andinto battle, people perchance will laugh andmake fun of you."" All the better, " he would retort. " Laugh-ing is more fun than quarrelling. Whereall are merry, there is peace.""Be merry by yourself and stay at home, "

they urged.But he stood his ground firmly."No," he said; "I shall be happier if I go."So he had his will: he was taken to the

city and handed over to the recruiting officers,and when those who took him returned home,they were questioned with much curiosity.[12]


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The Simpleton"Well, and how did you leave our fool?"

people asked . ' ' Did you see him afterwards ?""Indeed we did," they answered."Surely everybody is laughing at him

over there. Such a clod-hopper as he is!""True," they said; "at first they did laughsome. But he spent the two roubles pocketmoney we had given him on pies which hebought in the market and distributed tohis new comrades, one apiece, forgetting noone but himself. Then they began to shaketheir heads, and broke off pieces to give him.But he acted sort of bashful and said : ' Why,brothers, I did not mean it so. Eat it alland welcome.' Then the recruits pattedhim and said: 'Well, you are a kind soul!'Next morning he was the first in barracksto get up and started cleaning up and black-ing the old soldiers' boots. They praised him,and asked us: 'Was he not something of afool at home ? ' We answered : ' Not exactlya fool . 4 . . just a bit simple. 1 'And so Panka, with all his foolishness,

(131


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Lesskofserved through the entire war, working inthe rear of the army, digging ditches, bury-ing every kind of filth, and when he gothis discharge, habituated as he was to herding,he hired himself out to Tatar horse breedersin the great eastern and south-eastern steppes,to tend their droves of horses.He started for the steppes from the city of

Penza and it was many years before he cameback. He ranged the steppes after the horses,in their remotest parts, bordering on thewaterless sand wilderness, where the wealthylocal magnate Khan-Djangar lived after truenomad fashion. This chieftain, when he camewithin the bounds of civilization, to sell hishorses, was tame enough while there; but outin his own domains his will was his only law; inhis treatment of men he was guided solely bywhim : he was good to thosewho took his fancy,a fiend to those who displeased him.Owing to the remoteness of the wilderness

where he roamed at will, it was impossiblefor the authorities to keep track of him and[14]


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The Simpletonhis doings, and his savage licence knew norestraint. But he was not alone of his kind;there were others who equalled him in law-lessness, and one of these, a most daring thief,named Habiboula, repeatedly got away withmany of his very finest horses, emboldenedby long impunity. But one day it came to aregular fight, in which Habiboula was woundedand taken. This happened at a time whenKhan-Djangar was in a hurry to get to thehorse fair at Penza, and he could not stop togo through the formality of "trying" thehorse thief, whom he intended to put to deathwith such refinement of torture as shouldfill all other thieves with terror.

In order not to be late at Penza and not toshow himself with Habiboula in places wherethere were Russian authorities, Khan-Djangarresolved to leave Panka with one horse by asmall and scanty spring, in charge of thewounded prisoner, fettered with horse shackles.He left some wheat and a skin of water fortheir support, with the strict injunction:

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Lesskof

"Guard this man as you would your ownsoul . Understand ? ' 'To which Panka replied :"How should I not? I thoroughly under-

stand and will do exactly as you say."Khan-Djangar rode away with his entire

band. Then Panka entered into conversa-tion with Habiboula.

"See," he began, "to what your thievinghas brought you. You are such a fine, bravefellow, but all your bravery has brought youno good. You should amend."The robber replied :"If I did not amend before, there is no

time now.""How so, no time? All that is needed is

that a man should have the firm will toamend; the rest will come of itself. . . .You have a soul, the same as all men have;cast out of it all that is evil, and God will atonce begin to help you do that which is good,and all will be well."

Habiboula listened and sighed.[16]


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The Simpleton"No," he said, "it is no use thinking ofsuch things at this pass.""Why not at this pass?""Why, because I am fettered and waiting

for death.""But I'm going to unfetter you and let

you go."Habiboula could not believe his ears; but

Panka looked at him with his kind smile andassured him :" I am not speaking in jest, I am in earnest.The Khan told me to guard you as I would myown soul. Do you know how a man shouldguard his soul? He should not, my brother,take thought of his soul to keep it fromharm, but let it suffer for others, to keepthem from harm. And that is what I intendto do this day, for I cannot endure to havemen hurt others. I will unfetter you and letyou take the horse, and you go your way,wherever you hope for safety; and if, afterthis, you again do evil, you will be deceivingnot me, but the Lord."

VOL. Ill 2 [ 17 1


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Lesskof

With these words he squatted down on theground and broke the shackles from Habi-boula, then made him mount, and said tohim:"Go in peace to any of the four quarters."And he remained, to wait for Khan-Djan-

gar's return; he waited very long until thetiny spring dried up and but a very littlewater was left in the skin.Then at last Khan-Djangar returned with

his band.The Khan looked around." Where is Habiboula?"Panka made answer:"I let him go."' ' What ! let him go ? What is that you are

telling me?""I am telling you what I have actually

done, in accordance with your commandand my own will. You ordered me to guardhim as I would my own soul, and the way Iguard my soul is to let it suffer for my neigh-bour. You intended to torture Habiboula.

[18]


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The SimpletonWell, I cannot endure to have people hurt.You are welcome to take me and torture me,and my soul shall be happy and free from allfear, for I do not fear you or anybody, not theleast little bit."

Khan-Djangar's eyes rolled from side toside. He straightened his cap on his head,then turned to his people."Come nearer, all of you, I will tell youwhat I think."The men all pressed around him, and hespoke in subdued tones :

"It seems to me that Panka may not beput to death, for that, mayhap, an angelhas dwelt in his soul.""Yes," came the low-voiced response from

all the men; "we may not hurt him. \Vohave not understood him these many years,and now, in one instant, he stands declaredbefore us; he is a righteous soul."

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The Pearl NecklaceBy N. S. Lesskof

I

SOMEthree years ago my brother came up

from one of the provinces, where he heldsome official post, to visit us and to spendthe Christmas holidays, and, Heaven knowswhat possessed him, straightway attackedme and my wife, and gave us no peace,insisting that we should "help him to getmarried."At first we thought he was joking, but he

most seriously and unremittingly plied uswith his one request :" For goodness' sake, help me to get married.Save me from the insufferable tedium ofloneliness. I am sick and tired of a bachelor'sexistence, of provincial gossip and fiddle-[20]


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The Pearl Necklacefaddle; I want a home of my own; I want togit evenings with a dear wife by my ownlamp. Do find me a wife. ' '"But just wait a bit," we would say;

"that's all very fine, and may you get yourheart's desire, bless you. But these thingsrequire time; one must have a nice girl inview, one that would suit you, and at thesame time feel well disposed towards youherself. And all this takes time."To which he would reply:"Well, there is plenty of time. During

the two holiday weeks no marriages can takeplace; so I have a whole fortnight before me.Enough for courtship, and one fine evening,immediately after Twelfth Night, we will bemarried and depart."

"Heigh-ho," say I, "seems to me, my dearboy, you really are going crazy with thetedium of it" (the word "psychopath" wasnot yet in use at the time). " I have no leis-ure to fool around with you just now; I amgoing to the court in a minute, where I have


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Lesskofa case; but you can stay here with my wifeand build all the castles you want to."

I thought, of course, it was all nonsense,or, anyhow, a whim very remote from ful-filment; when I came home to dinner, I couldsee that they had it all planned.

Says my wife to me:"Mashinka Vassilief was here. Asked me

to go with her to choose a frock, and, while Iwas dressing, they" (meaning my brotherand the young lady), "took tea together, andyour brother afterwards said to me: 'That'sa lovely girl. What's the use of huntingaround? Go ahead and marry us."To which I replied :" Now I see my brother really is crazy.""Come now," she replied, "why crazy?

Why deny that which you have always stoodup for?""What do you mean? What did I stand

up for?""Unaccountable sympathy; heart affini-

ties."


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The Pearl Necklace"Tut-tut, my dear," I said, "I am not to

be taken in with such catchwords. That isall very well at the proper time, on a reason-able basis. Inclination must spring out ofsomething real and tangible, such as therecognition of superior qualities of heart andsoul. But this! What do you call this?Too sudden. A glance, a word, and straight-way 'marry us,' and there you are forlife.""And, pray, what objection have you

against Mashinka? She is just such as youdescribe, a clear-headed girl of a nobledisposition, a good and faithful heart. Andbesides, she liked him well too.""What!" I exclaimed: "so you lost no

time in securing a confession from her aswell

"Confession nothing," she retorted; "asif one could not see. Love, you know, iswoman's province, we know it in the bud.""You are all disgustingly fond of match-

making," I grumbled. . . . "All you careI 23 ]


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Lesskoffor is to get two people married, and whatcomes of it is no concern of yours. You hadbetter beware of the consequences of yourrash interference."

"I am afraid of nothing," she asserted,"because I know them both. I know yourbrother is a splendid fellow, and Masha is alovely girl, and, once they have pledged theirword to take care of each other's happiness,they will surely redeem their pledge.""What!" I cried, aghast, "they are already

engaged?""Well, not formally as yet but it is plain

enough. Their tastes, their ideas are alike.Anyhow I shall take your brother over theretonight; I am sure the old people will likehim, and then. ..."

"Well, what then?""Then, let them manage things themselves;

only don't you meddle.""All right," I said; "I am only too glad

not to be mixed up in such silly doings.""There won't be anything silly about it."[241


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The Pearl Necklace"Very well.""Everything will get along beautifully;

they will be very happy.""Glad to hear it. Only you might as well,

you and my dear brother, bear in mind thefact that Mashinka's father is a well-knownwealthy churl and miser."

' ' What of that ? I am sorry to say I cannotdeny the fact, but that does not preventMashinka from being a lovely girl who willdevelop into an excellent wife. You surelyare forgetting a fact on which we have oftendwelt; namely, that all of Turgenief's finestwomen had anything but admirable parents.""That is not at all what I mean. Ma-shinka is indeed an admirable girl, but, whenboth her elder sisters married, her fathertricked his sons-in-law, gave them nothing.She won't get anything either.""How do we know' He loves her best ofthe threeJl^

" Fiddlesticks, my dear! As if we did notknow what this exceeding love for a mar-

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riageable daughter amounts to. He'll cheat'em all. Moreover, he can't help himself.That's his way. He is said to have built uphis fortune by lending out money at outrag-eous interest. And of such a man you expectlove and generosity? Mind my word: hissons-in-law themselves are as smart as theymake them, yet he was too much for them,and now they are not on speaking terms withhim. What chance then would that brotherof mine have, who, from his childhood uphas been noted for exaggerated delicacy offeeling in money matters ! He will be strandedhigh and dry.""High and dry? You mean? ..."

''Come, come, stop fooling.""I'm not fooling.""As if you did not know what it means to

be 'stranded high and dry!' He won't giveMasha a thing, that's all.""Oh, is that it!""Why, of course.""'Of course/ do you say? Well, that126]


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The Pearl Necklacemay be, " she mocked ; "only it never occurredto me that getting a good wife, even if dower-less, meant, in your estimation, being 'strandedhigh and dry.' '

You know the pretty feminine way andtheir logic: hitting you one in passing whenaiming a stone at a neighbour's garden." I was not speaking for myself.""Oh, it comes to the same thing.""You speak strangely, my dear, I must

say."" Why ' strangely' ? ""Because, I repeat, I was not speaking

for myself!""Then you thought it.""No; I did not.""Well, you imagined it.""No, no, devil take it all! I did not imagine

any such thing either.""Now what's the use of shouting? . . .""I'm not shouting.""And bringing in the devil! So nice, isn't

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"You put me out of patience."1 ' There, you see ? Were I rich and had

brought you a dowry. ...""Oh, bother!"That was more than I could stand. I

assumed an injured mien for I really feltill used, and, shaking my head, I turned onmy heel and made for my own den. But,after I had closed the door behind me, I wasseized with an irresistible desire for revenge;so I opened it again and relieved my feelingswith the one word :

"Pig!""Thanks, my dear husband!" came the

answer.II

Nice scene, was it not? After four yearsof the happiest married life, never for aminute troubled or obscured! Too bad!Intolerable! Such nonsense, too! And forwhat? All my brother's doing! What busi-ness is it of mine, that I should work myself

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The Pearl Necklaceinto such a tantrum? After all, he is nokid, and surely is entitled to judge for himselfwhom he likes and wishes to marry. MyLord! you cannot nowadays direct your ownson in such matters; how then expect abrother to be guided by you? And, besides,what right have I to interfere? And am Ireally endowed with such prophetic power asto foretell, infallibly, what the result of hiscourtship is to be? ... Mdshinka is un-questionably a lovely girl, and is not my wifea lovely woman? . . . Nor has anybody,yet, thank Heaven, called me a worthlessmember of society; yet here we are, afterfour years of unclouded married happiness,quarelling and calling each other names like afishmonger and his wife. And all for nothing;on account of a foolish fellow's vagaries! . . .

I felt terribly ashamed of myself and guiltyUu>re my wife. For, in my penitent mood,I thought nothing of her hard words andblamed myself alone, and in this saddenedand discontented state of mind I went to

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sleep in my own den, on the divan, wrappedin my warm, cozy dressing-gown, quilted bymy dear wife's own hands.What a gratefully enfolding thing that is,

a comfortable garment, worked by a wife forher husband ! It is so nice and soft and dear,and so gently, at any and all times, recallsour offences and those precious little hands,which we suddenly long to kiss and kiss, ask-ing pardon, we could not exactly tell for what !

"Forgive me, my angel, for that thouhast provoked me out of all patience. I'llbe good!"

I confess I was in such a hurry to apologizeand make friends, that I awoke, got up, andcame out of my den. And behold all therooms were dark and silent."Where is your mistress?" I inquired of

the maid."Gone with your brother to call on MariaNicolaevna and her father. I'll get yourtea in a minute.""Did you ever!" I thought to myself.

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"Evidently she has not given up her stub-bornness and has set her heart on this mar-riage. Well, let them! Let the girl's fathertreat the boy as he has treated his older sons-in-law. And he will, even worse, for thoseare sharp customers, while my brother ishonesty incarnate and full of nice scruples.Let the old man teach him a lesson, himand my wife. Let her burn her fingers onthis her first attempt at match-making."

I received my tea at the hands of the maidand sat down to study the case which wasscheduled for the morrow on the court calen-dar and which was fraught with not a fewdifficulties.

This work absorbed my attention untilfar after midnight. My wife and my brothercame home at two o'clock, both in the highestspirits."Won't you have some cold roast beef anda glass of water with claret?" said my wifeto me. "As for us, we had supper with theVassiliefs."

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"No, thanks," I answered curtly."Nicolai Ivanovitch was in a generousmood and feasted us royally."

"Indeed?""Yes. We had a delightful time. There

was champagne.""Good for you!" I said, and at the same

time was thinking: "The old rascal at oncegot my brother's number, and, seeing what acalf he had to deal with, began by giving hima nice feed; then he will pet him so long asthe courtship lasts, after which the young oxwill find himself stalled."

I felt again embittered against my wifeand did not apologize for being ill used byher. Had I been free and had I had theleisure to enter into all the possibilities of thelove-game they started, I might very possiblyhave yielded once more to the temptation andinterfered, and things might have ended in ageneral mix-up; but, fortunately, I did nothave the time. The case which I mentioneda while ago kept us so busy in court, that we

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The Pearl Necklacehardly expected to have done with it by Christ-mas, so that I came home only for meals anda night's rest, spending all my days and partof my nights before the altar of the blind-folded goddess. Meanwhile, things did notwait on my pleasure at home. When I atlast sought my own hearth on the night ofChristmas Eve, delighted to be rid for a timeof professional work, I was met by the requestto examine a wonderful basket filled with richpresents, my brother's offering to his brideto be."What in the world is this?""The bridegroom's gifts," explained my

wife."It's all settled then? Congratulations.""Certainly. Your brother did not wish

formally to propose before he had one moretalk with you, but he is in a hurry to get thewedding over, and, just as though to spiteus, that horrid court of yours kept you sobusy, it was impossible to get hold of you.They could not wait any longer, and sobecame engaged."

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"Why, that's all right," I said; "therewas no use waiting for me.""Are you making fun of us?""Not in the least.""Then you are sarcastic.""Not a bit of it.""Moreover, you would be wasting your

breath, for, in spite of your croaking, they aregoing to be extremely happy."

"Naturally, since you vouch for it," Iretorted. "There is a saying to the effectthat 'whoso thinks but three days makes abad choice. It is safest not to choose at all.' "

"Well, " replied my wife, shutting down thelid of the basket, "it is you men who thinkyou always choose us. In reality, all that isnonsense.""How so nonsense? It is not the girls,

I should hope, who do the courting, but themen.""The courting true, the men do that.

But it is never preceded by genuine, deliber-ate, intelligent choice."

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The Pearl NecklaceI shook my head and attempted to reasonwith her."You should think better of what you

say. Take me now : I chose you out of regardfor you and fully realizing your excellentqualities.""Don't fib.""Fib?""Certainly. You did not choose me for

my excellent qualities at all.""For what then?""For my looks.""What! You go to the length of denying

your own good qualities?"" Not at all. I have some very good ones,

but all the same you would not have marriedme, had you not liked my looks."

I felt that she was right, but persisted."Still," I said, "I was hanging round yourhouse for a year, waiting. What did I do

that for"To look at me.""You are mistaken. I was studying you."

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She burst out laughing."It is silly to laugh at nothing.""I'm not laughing at nothing. I'm laugh-

ing because you never studied me, my dear,and could not study me.""Why could I not?""Shall I tell you?""Please.""Because you were in love with me.""Granted. But that did not prevent mefrom realizing your moral qualities.""It did.""No, it did not.""And I say it did, and always will prevent

any lover from 'studying* a girl; thereforeit is a waste of time. You men think that,having fallen in love with a woman, you lookat her with discrimination, while the fact isthat you look at her with your imagination.""Well, well," I said, rather taken aback,"isn't that somewhat too . . . too realis-tic?" . . . But to myself I thought: "She isright, confound her!"

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The Pearl NecklaceMy wife went on:"Come now, stop worrying. . . . There's

no harm done. And now hurry up and dressand let us be off to the Vassiliefs'; we areinvited for the evening and you are to offeryour congratulations to your brother andhis fiancee."

14 1 will, gladly."And we went.

Ill

The gifts were duly presented, congratula-tions offered, and we all drank ourselvesmerry on the nectar of fair champagne.

Talking, arguing, advising, were out of thequestion, the time for that was past and no-thing remained but to uphold in every one thebelief in the happiness awaiting the engagedcouple and to drink more champagne, and inthese occupations were spent the days andthe nights, alternately at our house and atthe Vassiliefs'.


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People thus engaged take no notice of theflight of time.

Before we could realize it New Year's Evewas upon us. At such a time expectationsgrow into certainties; joy and good wishesare the order of the day, and in this we werenot behind the rest. We saw the old yearout and the new in at Mashinka's house, andthere were such doings there as would havejustified King (kniaz) Vladimir's famoussaying that ''Drinking is Russia's joy."One thing, however, was not in keeping withtradition. Mashinka's father said not aword of a dowry, but made his daughter anexceedingly strange present, one, as I learnedlater, absolutely inadmissible on such anoccasion, because considered of most evilomen. In full sight of the crowd, at supper,with his own hands he placed round her necka magnificent pearl necklace. We men look-ing at the thing, thought: "Why, that'sfine! What may it have cost, though? Hemust have saved the pretty toy since the

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The Pearl Necklacegood old times when rich people did not yetsend their valuables to public loan-banks,but, when hard up for cash, preferred toentrust them to private money-lenders of oldVassilief's stamp."The pearls were large, round, and of purestsheen, arranged in an old-fashioned, pecu-liarly effective style, the smaller ones atthe back, gradually increasing in size, up tothat of a bean, with three enormous blackpearls of most perfect brilliancy in front.This beautiful, valuable gift totally eclipsedmy brother's, which looked quite shamefacedby the side of it. In a word, all of us menhighly approved of the father's gift, and wealso liked the short speech which accom-panied it :

"Here, little daughter, is a pretty baublewith a spell on it: rot will not attack it, northief steal it, or, if one did, he would haveno pleasure of it. It is a joy for ever."But women have their own way of looking

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necklace, burst into tears. As for my wife,she could not control herself, and, takingthe old gentleman to a window, actuallyread him a lecture, to which, as coming from anew-found relative, he was compelled tolisten: did he not know that pearls symbolizeand foretell tears and therefore should neverbe given as either a New Year's or a weddinggift?He passed the matter over lightly, with a

jest."In the first place," he said, "they are all

idle prejudices, and if anybody will make mea present of the famous pearl which PrincessYussupof bought of Gorgubus, I'll take it atonce. I, too, madam, in my time, have goneinto all these subtleties and know what mayor may not be given. A maiden should notbe given turquoises, because turquoises,according to a Persian superstition, are thebones of persons who have died of love.Married ladies should not be given amethystsavec fleches d*amour; nevertheless, I have tried

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The Pearl Necklacethe experiment of giving such amethysts,and the ladies took them. ..."My wife smiled. He continued:"I shall repeat the experiment with you.

As regards pearls, you must know that not allare obtained with tears. There are the pearlsof the Red Sea, those of the Persian Gulf,but there are also sweet-water pearls perlesd'eau douce, which cost no tears. Senti-mental Mary Stuart would wear no pearlsbut those from Scotland's streams, but theydo not seem to have brought her happiness.I know what may be given, and that I givemy daughter, and you you frighten her.To punish you I shall not, after all, give youamethysts avec fltches d'amour; I will giveyou instead the frigid moonstone. . . . Andyou, my child, do not cry, and dismiss fromyour mind the idea that my pearls will bringyou tears. They are not that kind. The dayafter your wedding I shall reveal to you thesecret of these pearls, and you will see that youhave no cause for superstitious fears."

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Thus the trouble was laid. My brotherand Mdshinka were married immediatelyafter Twelfth Night, and on the followingmorning my wife and I paid them our firstvisit.

IVWe found them up and in the gayest spirits.My brother himself opened the door of the

suite which he had engaged in a hotel andmet us with beaming face and laughingboisterously.

This put me in mind of an old novel, inwhich the young husband goes mad withexcess of happiness, and I told him so; towhich he replied :"What do you think? My own experience

is such that this very thing might easilyhappen to me. My married life, beginningthis day, has already brought me, besides theexpected joys of wedlock, a great surprise onthe part of my dear wife's father.""Why, what else has happened to you?"

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The Pearl Necklace"Come in and I'll tell you.""Some trick of that old blackguard,"

whispered my wife to me."None of my business," I replied.\Ve went in, and my brother handed me apostal which had come by the morning's

mail. It read as follows:" The superstition about pearls can have no

terror for you: the pearls are false. 11

My wife was stunned. She just sat down."The old scoundrel!" she cried.But my brother nodded warningly in the

direction of the adjoining bedroom, whereMashinka was completing her toilet." You are wrong, " he said. "The old manhas acted most honourably. When I readthis, I had to laugh. What have I to grieveabout? I did not seek or ask for a dowry. Iwanted only a wife; consequently it is im-material to me that the pearls are not real.Suppose this necklace is worth not thirtythousand roubles, but only three hundred,what is that to me, so my wife is happy 5

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LesskofOne thing alone worried me: how to breakit to Masha. So I sat down to think it overwith my face to the window, forgetting thatI had omitted to close the door. A fewminutes later I looked round, and there,behind me, stood my father-in-law, holdingin his hand something wrapped in a hand-kerchief.

44 ' Good-morning, son, ' he said."I jumped up, embraced him, and said:'"How nice of you! We were going to

look you up in an hour or so, and here youare yourself. . . . That is contrary to allcustoms ... all the nicer and dearer.'

"'Bother etiquette,' he said. 'We'refamily. I was at mass, sent up a prayer forboth of you, and see: I have brought you aprosfora. l '

" We embraced again, and kissed.1 The prosfora is the small, white unleavened com-munion loaf out of which tiny particles are cut and

dropped in the wine of the communion cup.TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.144]


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The Pearl Necklace411 Did you receive my postal?' he inquired.'"Oh yes, I did.'And I laughed. He looked at me awhile.

'"So you're laughing, are you?''"What else should I do? It's too

amusing.'"'Amusing?'"'Certainly.'

' ' Let me see the pearls.'"They were lying on the table, in theircase. I handed it to him.' ' ' Have you got a magnifying glass ? ' he

demanded.11 1 had not and said so." ' Then I have. I always carry one about

me. It is an old habit. Now I want youto look at the clasp, just below the catch.'"'Why should [?''"Never mind. You just look. Maybeyou think I have deceived you.'"' No such thing.'' Well, look, just look.'" I took the glass. There on the clasp,

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cunningly concealed, in microscopic Frenchscript, stood the name: ' Bourguillon.'

1 ' Are you convinced, ' he asked, ' that theseare, indeed and truly, false pearls?'

"'Quite.''"And what will you say to me now?'"'I shall repeat what I said before. That

is ... speaking for myself. Only I shouldlike to ask a favour of you. . . .'"'Go ahead.''"Will you allow me not to tell Masha?'"'What's that for?'"'A fancy of mine.'"'No, but tell me what's the idea? To

spare her a disappointment ? '"'Well, yes; partly that.'"'And what else?'" I do not wish the least bitter feeling to

stir in her heart against her father.'' ' Against her father ? '"'Yes.'" As to that, she is now with regard to her

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The Pearl Necklacewill grow back to the loaf. No one nowmatters to her but her husband. . . .'"That is all wrong!' I cried. 'The heart

is not a wayside inn ; there is always room andto spare. A child's love is one thing, a wife'sis another. Besides, a husband, if he wishesto be happy, has to see to it that he can respecthis wife, and with that object in view, hemust guard her love and veneration for herparents.' /' ' A-ah ! Is that the kind of chap you are ': '" And he began silently to drum with hisfingers on the table. Then he rose and said :

"I, my dear son, have made my moneyby hard work, but in many different ways.From a lofty point of view these ways, per-haps, may not all have been very praise-worthy, but such were the times, nor did Iknow any others. I have no great faith inmen, and love I know only from novels, thefew I've read; but from what I saw in real life Igathered that everybody is after money. Tomy two sons-in-law I gave no money.

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they are mad at me and do not allow theirwives to visit me. I don't know who is thenobler they or I. I refuse them lifelessmoney, but they, they corrupt live hearts.And money I will not give them; but to youI will. Yes. And no later than now, thisminute.'

' ' Here see that ? " My brother showed usthree bills of fifty thousand roubles each."You don't say!" I cried. "All for your

wife?""No," he replied. "He gave her fifty

thousand; but I said to him: 'Do you know,Nicolai Ivanovitch, that will be awkward.. . . Masha will feel uncomfortable takingthis money while her sisters are left out.It will inevitably be a source of envy andenmity. . . . No, God forbid. Keep themoney and some day, when some favourableoccasion reconciles you to your other daugh-ters, you will, maybe, give it to all, share andshare alike. Then there will be joy for all.But for us alone no, no ! '

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"He again rose, paced the room awhile,stopped before the bedroom door, and calledout: 'Maria!'

" My wife came out in her pretty morningwrapper.

' ' I wish you joy, ' he said." She kissed his hand.' ' ' Do you want to be happy ? '

' ' Of course, I do, Papa, and I hope . . .'' That's right. You have chosen a goodhusband.'

'"I did not choose him, Papa. God gavehim to me.'

' Very well, very well. God gave him,and I will add something to His gift ; I wish tocomplete your happiness. Here are threebills, all alike. One is for you, the other twoare for your sisters. You shall give them tothem. And tell them they are your gift.'" Masha could but cry out ' Papa! ' and firstthrew her arms round his neck, then, witha sudden impulse, slid down to the floor,embracing his knees and crying happy tears.

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I looked at him, there were tears in his eyestoo.

' ' ' Rise, rise/ he said. ' You are ' ' queen " lthis day by ancient popular decree and it isnot meet you should kneel to me.'"'But I am so happy . . . for my sisters!''"I know. So am I. You can see now

that you had no reason to be afraid of mypearl necklace. I came here to reveal to you

1 To this day, among the peasantry, especially inremoter parts, a bride and groom on their weddingday are addressed and spoken of as king and queen(kniaz and kniaginid). The immediate occasion isthe fact that, during the marriage ceremony (whichcan be performed only in church), ornamental giltcrowns are placed on their heads, or held above them.Hence the ceremony is called crowning or "coronation,"and to be married "is to be crowned." But the realorigin of the custom lies far deeper and antecedesChristianity. It goes back to the heathen Slavictimes of partriarchal tribe rule, when every new couplecould be the founders and, as such, the rulers ofa tribe.The old wedding songs, preserved by folk-lore andstill in use, all celebrate "glorify" the kniaz andkniaginia. Since the coming of Rurik only his maledescendants have borne the title of kniaz which wastheirs by right of birth. TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.

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The Pearl Necklacea secret : the pearls I gave you are false. Along time ago I was taken in with them by adear friend of mine. And what a friend!Not one of common clay; a descendant ofRurik and the great Gedimin of Lithuania,if you please! Your husband now, he is asimple soul, but true. One cannot trick thelike of him, no man would have the heart ! '"

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FriendsA Christmas

StoryBy N. S. Lesskof

I

MY father was a prominent criminallawyer in his day. A number ofimportant cases were entrusted to him, and,for that reason, he was frequently absentfrom his family, leaving my mother alone athome with me and the servants. My motherwas very young at the time, and I was just alittle chap, seven years old, when the incidenttook place, of which I intend to tell.

It was winter, and a severe one. The coldwas so intense that sheep froze to death atnight in their stalls, and sparrows and jack-daws dropped on the frozen ground, stiffand numb. My father was again absent on152]


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professional business and did not promise tobe home even for Christmas, wherefore mymother made up her mind to join him, sothat he might not feel lonely and desertedon that day of universal rejoicing. It wasquite a long journey, and she would not takeme along on account of the terrible cold, butleft me with her sister, my aunt, who wasmarried to an estate owner of the sameprovince, whose name was the subject ofmuch unpleasant talk. He was old, veryrich, and cruel. His chief characteristics werea certain wicked malignancy and inexorabil-ity, qualities which he not only did not inthe least deprecate, but rather prided himselfon, as proofs, in his opinion, of manly strengthof mind and an inflexible spirit.These same qualities he strove to develop

in his children, one of whom, a boy, was of anage with myself.Everybody was afraid of my uncle, and I

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On one occasion, when I was not more thanthree years old, there was a violent thunder-storm, and my uncle, knowing that I wasmortally afraid of it, shut me out alone on abalcony, thinking to cure me in this way ofmy unmanly fear.

Naturally, I was a most unwilling andgreatly scared guest in the house of such ahost, but I repeat I was only seven years old,and my wishes were not considered whendiscussing the circumstances which had to beconformed to.My uncle's residence was a huge stone

mansion, resembling a castle, a pretentious,but unharmonious, even ugly two-storyconstruction, with a round cupola and atower, of which blood-curdling horrors weretold. It had once been tenanted by thepresent owner's demented father. After hisdemise his rooms were converted into apharmacy. This, too, was, for some reason,thought dreadful; but the most horrid thingof all was that in the upper room of the

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Friendstower there was an empty dormer-window,and in that window strings were stretched,making a so-called "^Eolian harp." Whenthe wind's invisible fingers ran along thatpeculiar instrument, the strings unexpectedlygave forth the weirdest sounds, rising from alow, deep drone to wild, confused moaningsending in an angry rumble, as from thepassing of a flight of fear-stricken, huntedghosts. Everybody hated this aerial harp,under the impression that it had a messagefor the redoubtable lord of the manor, whodared not reply, but only grew more mercilessand cruel. ... It was observed beyond adoubt that, if the night had been stormy andthe humming of the harp so loud as toreach the village across the pond and thepark, the master did not sleep all night, arosein the morning more than usually moroseand gloomy and was sure to issue some crueldecree which filled with terror the hearts ofhis numerous menials.

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slightest transgression should ever go un-punished, no matter who the culprit mightbe. This rule was never broken, in the casenot only of a human being, but even thatof an animal, whether a beast of the forestor of the domestic group. My uncle wouldnot hear of mercy; indeed he detested thisquality, looking on it as an unmanly weakness.Inflexible severity, in his eyes, was superiorto any condescension. Accordingly, a pallof cheerless despondency for ever hung overmen and animals alike in all the vast domainsbelonging to this wealthy landholder.

II

My late uncle was a passionate hunter.He used to hunt wolves, hares, and foxes withgreyhounds. Besides these he had in hiskennels a special breed of bear-hunting dogs.They went by the name of "leeches." Oncesuch a dog got its fangs into a bear, it hung onso, it was impossible to wrench it off. It


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Friendssometimes happened that the bear would killit with one blow of his formidable paw, ortear it in two, but never was a "leech"known to let go of its hold alive. Nowadays,when bears are either stalked or huntedsingle-handed with stakes, this breed of dogs,I believe, has become extinct in Russia; but,at the time of which I am telling, they wereto be found in almost every well-appointedhunting kennel. Bears were very plentifulin our parts at that time, and hunting themwas a favourite sport.When the hunters succeeded in gettingpossession of a whole bear's den, the cubswere taken out and brought home. They\\vrc usually kept in a large stone shed with arow of small windows right under the roof.These windows were unglazed, but providedwith strong iron bars. The cubs used toreach them by climbing up on top of oneanother and to cling to the bars by the iron-like claws of their strong paws. This was theonly way in which they could, from their

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place of confinement, obtain a glimpse ofGod's free world. When we were taken outto walk before dinner, our greatest pleasurewas to visit the shed and to look from belowat the cubs' funny black muzzles sticking outbetween the bars. The German tutor, Kol-berg, contrived to get up to them, at theend of his walking stick, bits of bread whichwe used to save from our lunch for thatpurpose.The duty of looking after the bears and

feeding them was entrusted to a young whip-per-in named Therapont. I remember himvery well. He was a middle-sized, well-built, bold, and powerful fellow of twenty-five or so. He was considered handsome:white-skinned and rosy-cheeked, with black,curly hair and large, black, somewhat pro-truding eyes; add to this uncommon courage.He had a sister, Anna, who was assistantnurse, and she used to tell us very entertainingstories of her brother's reckless bravery, ofthe extraordinary friendship existing between

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him and the bears, of how he slept winter andsummer with them in their shed, and howthey would surround him on all sides and laytheir heads upon him, using him as a pillow.

In front of the house, on the other side ofa large round plot planted with flowers andenclosed in an ornamental fence, there was awide gateway, and over against that, in thecentre of the plot, rose a tall, straight, smooth-ly planed pole, or "mast," as it was called,and at the top of it was constructed a smallplatform.

It was an established custom to select one"clever" cub out of the number of captives,distinguished by greater intelligence andsteadiness of temper, who then was separatedfrom his compeers and allowed to live atliberty, i. e., he was allowed to move freelyabout the yard and grounds. At the sametime he was expected to do sentry duty bythe pole opposite the gateway. Here he spentmost of his time, either lying on straw at thefoot of the pole, or else climbing up to the

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platform and there sitting, or even sleeping,safe from bothering dogs or people.Not all bears led such a privileged existence,

but only such as were particularly gentleand well-behaved, and only so long as theydid not manifest their ferocious instincts,incompatible with life in a well-ordered com-munity, i. e., so long as they behaved them-selves and did not molest either chickens orgeese, calves or humans. The bear that haddisturbed the public peace was at once con-demned to death, and from this sentencethere was no appeal nothing could save theculprit from execution.

Ill

The duty of selecting a "clever" beardevolved on Therapont. Naturally, as, onaccount of his constant intercourse with thecubs, he was credited with an intimate know-ledge of their several natures and ways andtherefore considered as the only competent

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judge. On the other hand, he alone wouldhave been held responsible for a bad choice.But his very first choice fell on an uncom-monly intelligent and well-mannered animal,exceptional in every way, even to its name.While Russian bears usually are called'Mishka, " this one, for some unknownreason, was given a theatrical Spanish name:he was christened "Sganarelle." Five wholeyears he had lived at full liberty and neveronce been "naughty." When a bear wassaid to have been "naughty," it meant thathe had manifested his wild beast's nature, byperpetrating some attack on man or beast.The culprit was then kept for a time in a pit,which had been dug for the purpose in aspacious field between the barn and the wood.After a while a stout beam was lowered intothe pit and when, with its help, he clamberedout, he was met by a number of "youngleeches," i. e., half grown bear-hunting dogs,which were set on the animal. If they couldnot quitr manage him and there was danger

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of his escaping into the forest, two of thebest huntsmen, concealed in an ambush,rushed out with a picked, tried pack, andquickly made an end of him.

If, by any chance, the dogs did their workso awkwardly that the bear succeeded in"breaking through" and made for the wood,which adjoined one of the vastest forests ofcentral Russia, his way was intercepted by aspecially appointed, skilful marksman, armedwith an old-fashioned, long, and heavy car-bine, who fired from a rest, with deadly aim.No bear was ever known to escape allthese dangers. Indeed, one shudders onlyto imagine such a possibility and the punish-ment, even unto death, which would haveovertaken all concerned in so untoward afailure.

IVOwing to Sganarelle's exemplary behaviour,

there had been no baiting for five wholeyears, so that he had grown into a fine, big

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bear, uncommonly handsome, powerful, andalert. He was noted for his short, roundmuzzle and a certain litheness of build, whichmade him look more like a colossal poodlethan a bear. His hindquarters were ratherlean and covered with short, shiny fur, buton the shoulders and the back of his neck itwas long and shaggy. By his clevernessSganarelle also put one in mind of a poodle,and some of his ways were rather remarkablefor an animal of his species. He was fond ofwalking upright, on his hind-feet, which hedid well and with ease ; he could beat a drum,march with a big stick, painted to simulatea gun; he also willingly, and even with evidentpleasure, helped the peasants haul the heaviestsacks to the mill, and he had a most ludicroustrick of clapping on his own head a tall, coni-cal felt hat, such as peasants wear, with apeacock's feather stuck in it, or a bunch ofstraw, which gave this head-dress a ridiculousplumage effect.But the fatal hour struck even for him.

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LesskofThe wild-beast nature awoke even in Sgana-relle. Shortly before I was brought to myuncle's house, the gentle fellow had suddenlycommitted several outrages, each worse thanthe preceding one.The programme of his misdeeds was the

same as with all the others. To begin with,he tore off a goose's wing; then he laid apaw on the back of a colt which was runningafter its mother, and broke its spine; lastly,something displeased him about an old blindbeggar and his guide, so he rolled them overand over in the snow, and their hands andfeet had been badly crushed in the process.They were both taken to the hospital andTherapont was ordered to conduct Sganarelleto the pit, out of which he would be takenonly once for execution.Anna, while undressing us that night, myself

and my little cousin, told us many touch-ing details of Sganarelle's interment in thedungeon where he was to await his doom.Therapont had absolutely refused to put an

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iron ring through his lip, or in any way touse force. He had just said : "Come along,bear," and the bear had risen and followedhim. As a grotesque incident, rather pathetictoo, it was noticed that he had gravelyput on the hat with the straw plumage andlaid his arm round the man's shoulder, andso they had walked all the way, companion-ably, like a pair of friends.And friends, indeed, they were.

Therapont was very sorry for Sganarelle,but wholly powerless to help him. Bear inmind that, in the little realm where theseevents took place, no offence was ever for-given and Sganarelle, having offended, wasto pay the penalty of his aberrations and diea cruel death.The baiting was to take place for the

entertainment of the numerous guests whousually assembled at the mansion at Yule-

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tide, and the necessary orders were alreadyissued when Therapont was commanded totake the delinquent to the "pit."The incarceration of a condemned bear

was a simple matter enough. The mouth ofthe pit was covered with slender, frail poles,over which was thrown light brushwood, andthis again disappeared under a layer of softsnow, so that it was impossible to detect thetreacherous trap. The docile, unsuspectinganimal was led up to the spot and made toadvance across it. After a step or twobrushwood and poles broke under his weight,and he found himself at the bottom of thedeep pit, to get out of which was absolutelyimpossible, and there he stayed up to theday appointed for his execution. Then awooden beam, some thirty feet long, waslowered into the pit, when the bear quitenaturally used it to climb up and out, on tothe plain, where the baiting immediatelybegan. If, as sometimes happened, a morethan usually intelligent animal, warned by

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some instinct, refused to stir, he was proddedwith long poles ending in sharp iron spikes,pelted with bunches of ignited straw, or shotat with blank cartridges out of guns andpistols. Therapont took Sganarelle to hisprison in the prescribed manner, but returnedhome very sad and gloomy. As ill luckwould have it, he told his sister how "kindly"the poor beast had gone along; how, afterfalling through the brushwood, he sat downat the bottom of the pit, folded his forepaws like hands, and moaned, it soundedjust as if he cried. . . . The boy told hissister that he ran from that pit as fast ashis feet would carry him, so as not to hearthose pitiful moans, which sheer broke hisheart."Thank God," he added, "that it was not

I who was ordered to fire at him if he escapedfrom the dogs. Had it been I, I should havetaken any punishment, but not for worldscould I have fired at him."

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VIAnna told us all about it, and we told the

tutor Kolberg, who, in his turn, told myuncle, just to amuse him. The old gentlemanlistened, and all that he said was: "Finefellow, Therapont," then clapped his handsthrice.

This was his signal for his own man, Justin,a little old Frenchman, who had been takenprisoner in 1812, then had stayed of his ownwill, as had so many others.

Justin instantly made his appearance inhis neat, lavender swallow-tail coat withsilver buttons, and my uncle gave him hislast orders for the morrow which were that themen to be placed in the ambushes shouldbe: Phlegont, a famous marksman, neverknown to miss, and Therapont. He evi-dently expected to get some amusement outof the struggle of feelings in the poor lad'sbreast. If he refused to fire or purposelymissed, he would, of course, suffer heavily,

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and Sganarelle would all the same be killedby the other man, who never missed. Justinbowed and marched off to transmit theorder he had received. We children weredismayed at the mischief we had set afoot,and felt that there was in all this somethingdreadfully wrong and sad, so that God onlyknew what the end would be.

After this we had not the heart to takedue interest either in the splendid combineddinner and supper which was served onChristmas Eve when the rising of the EveningStar put an end to the day's fast, or in theguests who arrived for the night, thoughamong them were several children. 1

1 Christmas Eve, in the Orthodox Church, is a dayof absolute fast. From midnight on no food should betaken in strict observance, not even a drink of water,until the appearance of the first star. At the time ofwhich the author writes, fasts and other church ordin-ances were almost universally observed by the higherclasses. That religious observances have graduallyfallen into general disuse among the educated classes,is hardly a matter for unqualified satisfaction.

TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.[69]


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LesskofWe were terribly sorry for Sganarelle, also

for Therapont, and could not make up ourminds for which of the two we felt the moresorry.

We both my cousin and myself were along time tossing and turning in our cots;we both were late falling asleep, and whenwe did so, ours was a heavy, restless sleep andmore than once we started with frightenedcries out of dreams of the bear. And whennurse tried to quiet us, telling us we need nolonger be afraid of him, since he was sittingin the pit and would be killed next day, thisclumsy attempt at comforting only increasedour agitation.

I even applied to her for enlightenment:whether we might not pray for Sganarelle?But such a question was beyond the olddear's theology; yawning and crossing hermouth, 1 she replied that she could not be

1 Many among the lower classes even now still crosstheir mouths in the act of yawning, lest some stray evilspirit should slip in unawares. TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.

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sure about that for she had never spoken tothe priest on the subject, but that a bear,after all, was one of God's creatures, the sameas we; and besides, there had been bears withNoah in the Ark.

It seemed to me that the fact of bearshaving been among the passengers of theArk pointed to the conclusion that God'sinfinite mercy might be extented not to menalone, but to His other creatures as well; soI, in the fulness of childhood's faith, kneltby my cot, and, burying my face in thepillow, implored the Majesty of God not tobe offended at my ardent prayer and to takepity on Sganarelle.

VIIChristmas Day, we children were all dressed

up in our Sunday best and, attended by tutorsand governesses, came to the dining-room, tomorning tea. Among the crowd of relatives andguests I noticed our parish clergy: the priest,the deacon, the sacristan, and the sexton.

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LesskofWhen my uncle entered the room, the

clergy sang the Christmas anthem. Thentea was drunk, and, very soon after, a lightluncheon was served, so as not to interferewith the early, two o'clock holiday dinner.Immediately after dinner the whole crowdwas to drive out, to witness the baiting ofSganarelle. There was to be no delay, fordays are short at this time of the year, anddarkness would make the baiting impossible,as the bear could easily escape under itscover.

Everything proceeded as planned. Wewere taken away from the table to get dressed,as we were to go with the crowd. We worecoats lined with hare fur and high bootsknitted of fleecy goat's wool, with warmfelt soles, and were bundled into sleighs.And along both sides of the house, before theentrances, was arrayed a number of largesleighs, wide and low, draped with richbright-coloured rugs, and drawn by hand-some troikas. Two grooms held my uncle's[72]


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favourite mount, an English bay mare,named "Dandy."My uncle came out in his fox-lined ridingovercoat and tall pointed, fox-fur cap, andthe moment he was in the saddle, held inplace by turquoise-studded back- and breast-straps and covered with a black bearskin,the whole long procession started; in aboutfifteen minutes we were on the spot anddeployed into a wide semicircle. All thesleighs were turned halfway towards thevast, even, snow-covered plain, enclosed in acordon of mounted hunters and bounded inthe distance by the wood, at the entranceof which, behind some bushes, were thecunningly contrived ambushes where Phle-gont and Therapont lay concealed.

These ambushes were invisible, and onlythose who knew pointed to a couple of scarcelynoticeable low ramparts constructed of snow,from which the men were to fire if the bear es-caped. The pit in which poor Sganarelle wasconfined, was not observable either, so we


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turned our attention to the brilliant line ofhorsemen, carrying behind their backs a vari-ety of handsome guns of different periods andmake: Swedish, German, English, and Polish.My uncle stood his horse at the head of theline. He was handed a locked leash of two

of the most ferocious "leeches," and on thehousing by his saddle bow in front of himwas laid a white handkerchief.The young dogs, for whose practice the of-

fending Sganarelle was doomed to die, were ingreat numbers and all carried themselves mostindependently, manifesting great eagernessand lack of discipline. They yelped, whined,barked, jumped, and got themselves tangledup in the leashes around the horses, on whichsat uniformed whippers-in, who kept up anunceasing cracking of their long whips, inorder to reduce to some kind of subordinationall these young creatures, wild with excite-ment and with the one longing to rush at thebeast, whose near presence their sharp noseshad long ago betrayed to them.

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out of the pit and deliver him up to his tor-mentors, to be torn to pieces. . . .My uncle waved the white handkerchiefand shouted, "Go it!"

VIIIOut of the group of hunters who formed

my uncle's own particular staff eight or tenstepped forth and walked across the plain.Some two hundred paces away they began

to lift from the snow a long but not verystout wooden beam, which, up to this mo-ment, the distance had prevented our seeing.This was going on near the mouth of the pit,but that also we had been unable to makeout from our remote position.Having lifted the beam, they at once

lowered one end of it into the pit, at such anangle that the animal could as easily walkup the incline as he might walk up a staircase.The other end was braced against the edgeof the pit and stuck out a couple of feet.


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Every eye followed this preliminary opera-tion which led up to the most interestingmoment, when Sganarelle should, accordingto general expectation, make his appearanceoutside. . . . But he evidently mistrustedsomething, and would not come out.They began to pelt him with snowballs

and to worry him with spiked poles; therewas a roar, but the clever beast would notstir. Then we heard a few shots directedstraight into the pit; Sganarelle only growledangrily, but, stubbornly, did not show him-self.

Then, from somewhere behind the line ofhorsemen, was driven, at a gallop, a com-mon one-horse sleigh, such as peasants useto carry manure, now laden with dry ryestraw.The horse was a tall, lean old animal, one

of those that serve on farms to carry foragefrom the stack-yard, but, in spite of its ageand leanness, it fairly flew, raised tail bris-tling. It was doubtful, however, whether

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Friendsthis extraordinary energy was a remnant ofyouthful mettle, or the result of fright anddespair, caused by the proximity of the bear.Rather, it would appear, the latter, for thehorse was bridled, over and above the usualiron bit, with a strong cord which had alreadytorn its age-grey lips bloody. It raced andtossed so desperately, from side to side, thatthe stable boy who drove it, while pulling itshead up with the cord, with the other handmercilessly plied the whip.

Well, anyhow, the straw was, with diffi-culty, divided into three bundles, which, afterbeing set on fire, were thrown into the pitfrom three sides at once, leaving only oneexit free the side against which leaned thebeam.A furious, deafening roar issued from the

pit, mingled with groans, but ... the beardid not show up. ... From man to man, arumour reached us, that Sganarelle's fur wassinged all over, but that he had covered hiseyes with his paws and was cowering in a1771


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corner, breast and belly pressed hard againstthe ground, but could not be made to stir.The farm-horse, its lips sawed raw and

bloody, raced back again. Everybodythought it had gone for another load of straw.A reproving murmur broke out among thespectators : "Why did not the managers of theshow provide enough straw in the first place,so as to have an abundance of it on hand?"My uncle was getting angry and was shoutingsomething which I could not make out onaccount of the noise and general confusion,as well as the ever-increasing yelping andwhining of the dogs and cracking of the longwhips. Yet there was a certain sense andmethod in all this, and when the old horse,tossing and snorting, came racing back, itwas seen that the sleigh was bringing, notanother load of straw, but . . . Therapont !The orders issued by my uncle, in hisrage, were to the effect that the boy shouldbe made to descend into the pit and himselfbring out his friend to be baited and killed! . . .

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IXAnd so Therapont was brought. He was

evidently greatly agitated, but acted firmlyand with decision and went to work withoutthe least attempt at resistance to the master'scommands. He took from the sleigh therope with which the load of straw had beenkept in place and tied one end of it aroundthe beam which happened to be notched atthe top. The rest of the rope

3687_little russian masterpieces leskov dostoevsky tolstoy

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