constantly repeated precept, “Never lie, but obey your elders, and bear your benefactor in your heart”; a never-ceasing scraping and scuffling about the room; a familiar but always surly voice, “You have been at your pranks again!” which echoed through the apartment whenever, weary of the monotony of work, he added some flourish or tail to a letter; and an equally familiar and always unpleasant sensation, when these words were followed by the twisting of his ears—behold here the dismal picture of his childhood and early youth, of which his memory barely retained a faint image.

But everything in life is subject to sudden and lively changes: and one day, with the first spring sunshine and shower, the father took his son, and set out with him in a telyéga, drawn by a gaunt piebald horse. The coachman who drove this animal was a little humpback, the head of the only family of serfs owned by Tchitchikoff’s father, and who occupied himself with nearly all the duties of the household. They drove along with the piebald for more than a day and a half; they passed the night on the road, crossed a river, lunched on some cold meat-pie and roast mutton, and only reached the city on the morning of the third day.

Before the boy’s eyes shone the streets of the city in unexpected splendour, making him keep his mouth open for several minutes. The piebald, in company with the telyéga, tumbled into a hole near a narrow alley, which inclined downwards and was blocked up with mud; then for a long time the animal laboured there with all its might, splashed about with its legs, aided by the hunchback, and even the master himself, and finally they reached a small courtyard, with two dilapidated apple-trees in front of a little old house with a narrow back garden, planted only with wild cherry-trees and lilacs, and concealing in its depths a wooden sentry-box which was full of rubbish, and had a dim, narrow window.

In this house dwelt a relative of theirs, a little withered-up old woman, who still went to market every morning, and afterwards dried her stockings on her samovar. She tapped the little lad on the cheek, and admired his plumpness. With her he was to remain, whilst attending the classes every day at the college of the town. His father passed the night there, and set out homewards on the following day. No tears were shed by his parent when they parted: the boy was given half a rouble in copper as pocket- money, and, what is much more important, some very wise advice: “Look here, Pavlusha, study well, don’t be stupid, and don’t play tricks,” said his father. “Most of all, please your teachers and your superiors. If you please your teachers, you will get into the right road and distance all the others, even if you do not succeed in the sciences, and even if God has not endowed you with any talent. Don’t associate with your comrades, they will teach you no good; but if it must be so, then associate with those who are the wealthiest and who can be of the most service to you in case of need. Do not make any presents, nor treat anyone, but rather behave so that others may give you presents. Save all you can: that is the surest recipe in the world. Your friends or comrades would cheat you, and in adversity they would be the first to betray you; but money will never betray you, no matter in what straits you may be. You can do everything, you can accomplish anything in the world, with money.” After bestowing this advice upon our hero, his father took leave of him, and dragged himself home again, behind his piebald. From that day forth Tchitchikoff never beheld his parent again; but his words and exhortations had sunk deep into his soul.

Pavlusha began to attend the classes on the very next day. He did not appear to have any especial capacity for any particular branch of learning; he merely distinguished himself by his diligence and cleanliness; but, in compensation, he exhibited great talents in another direction—that of practical life. He divined or comprehended a matter on the instant, and conducted himself in such a manner that his comrades actually did give him presents; and he not only never gave them any, but sometimes he even hoarded up their gifts, and afterwards sold them back to them.

While still a child, he learned how to deny himself everything. He did not spend a copeck of the half- rouble which his father had given him: on the contrary, he made an addition to it that same year, which displayed uncommon skill. He moulded a bullfinch out of some wax, coloured it, and sold it at a good profit. Then, in the course of time, he entered into other speculations, and this is what they consisted in: he purchased some eatables in the market, seated himself in the class near those who had the most