Marie:a story of Russian love

or. From that time he lived on his estate in the Principality of Simbirsk, where he married Avoditia, daughter of a poor noble in

that I was on furlough till my education should be finished. From my fifth year I was confided to the care of an old servant Saveliitch, whose steadiness promoted him to the

renchman, M. Beaupre, who was brought from Moscow with one year's provision

o say, a la Russe, he loved drink. But as at home wine was offered only at table, and then in small glasses, and as, moreover, on these occasions, the servants passed by the pedagogue, Beaupre soon accustomed himself to Russian brandy, and, in time, preferred it, as a better tonic, to the wines of his native country. We became great friends, a

s blind of an eye, agreed, one fine day, to throw themselves at my mother's f

ho, like a man of business, promptly ordered "that dog of a Frenchman" into his presence. T

I had determined to make a kite of it, and profiting that morning by Beaupre's sleep, I had set to work. My father came in just as I was tying a tail to the Cape of Good Hope! Seeing my work, he seized me by the ear and shook me soundly; then rushing to Beaupre's bed, awakened him without hesitating

career is yet to open; amusing myself teaching pigeons to tumble on the roof, and playi

ac which he received every year. This book had great influence over him; he read it with extreme attention, and reading prodigiously stirred up his bile. My mother, knowing by heart all his ways and oddit

shoulders, and murmuring: "'General!' Umph, he was a sergeant in my co

sofa and plunged into deep thought; a pro

brusquely, to my moth

n," said my mother. "Peter was born the year

ould join the army. It is high time he should g

r mother that she let the spoon fall into the

head with that of liberty, and the pleasures offered by a great city like Saint Petersbur

the day of my departure was instantly fixed. That evening, saying that he

o salute for me Prince B. Tell him that I d

father, frowning, "why sh

at you would write to

what

ow very well that Peter is enro

re? Extravagance and folly. No! let him serve in the army, let him smell powder, let him be a soldier and not a do-n

ox with my baptismal robe, and handed it to my father. He read

, if not to Saint Petersburg? I did not take my eyes fro

d my certificate under the same envelope,

vitch, my old friend and comrade. You are

of Saint Petersburg, ennui awaited me in a wild and distant

eet bits of the paternal home. Both my parents gave me their solemn benediction. My father said, "Adieu, Peter. Serve faithfully him to whom your oath is given; obey your ch

to take care of my health; and counseled

that a pelisse lined fox-skin. I took my seat in the kibitka with

found there a tall gentleman, some forty years of age, with heavy black moustaches, in his dressing-gown, holding a cue and smoking his pipe. He was playing with the marker, who was to drink a glass of brandy and water if he gained, and if he lost was to pass, on all-fours, under the billiard table. I watched them playing. The more they played the mo

o dinner. Zourine drank deeply, and invited me to drink also, saying that I must become accustomed to the service. He told stories of garrison life which made me laugh till I held my sides, and we rose from the table intimate friends. He then proposed to teach me how to play billiards. "It is," said he, "indi

y two kopecks, not for the gain, merely to avoid playing for nothing, which was, according to him, a very bad habit. I agreed. Zourine ordered

he marker who was counting. Heaven knows why. I increased the stake, and behaved, altogether, like a boy just cut free, for the first time, from his mot

xcuses, when Zourine exclaimed, "Oh! well! Good God! I can wait till morning; don't be distressed

become accustomed to the service. Rising from table, I could

d a cry of horror when he saw the unmista

ts; "where have you been filling yourself like a sack? Oh!

ng, "I am sure you are drunk yoursel

e evening I recalled vaguely, but my recollections became viv

drunkards. Your mother's name can not be mentioned; she never deigned to taste any thing but cider. Whose fault is it then? That cursed Frenchm

saying, "I do not want any tea, go away, Saveliitch." It

appetite, a drunkard is good for nothing. Here, take some of this decoction of cu

oom with a note for me from Zourine

ant the hundred roubles that you lost to me yesterday.

an air of indifference, and ordered Savel

said the old

sum," said

" said he, with redoubled astonishment. "No, no, that's imposs

e future to escape from his tutelage. Looking at him therefore, haughtily, I said, "I am thy master; thou art my servant. The

ch that he clasped his hands and s

there like a post?"

ch was i

isten to me, an old man; write to that brigand that you were jesting, that we never had so much money. A h

rity, "give the money or I'l

n, but I wanted to emancipate myself, and prove that I was no longer a child. Saveli

t remorse oppressed me. I took no leave of my teach