money, and as soon as he observed one of his companions growing weary—which was a sign of approaching hunger—he thrust some gingerbread or a roll into his hand, under the form, as though by accident; having thus incited his schoolfellow, he demanded payment in proportion to his appetite. For two months also he toiled in his own quarters in training a mouse, which he had shut up in a little wooden cage; and at length he succeeded to such a degree, that the mouse stood on its hind legs, lay down, and rose up at the word of command; and then he sold it in an advantageous manner. When he had amassed money to the amount of five roubles or so, he made a little bag for it, and began to hoard up his cash.

He behaved with even more sagacity in the case of his superiors. No one knew how to sit upon a form more quietly than he. It must here be remarked that his teacher was a great lover of quietness and good conduct, and that he could not endure the clever and witty boys; it seemed to him as though they must infallibly be laughing at him. It sufficed for any youngster, who had caused himself to be remarked for cleverness, to make the slightest movement, or unintentionally contract his eyebrows, for the teacher to fall suddenly upon him. He would persecute and punish the youngster unmercifully. “I’ll drive the conceit and disobedience out of you, my lad!” he said: “I know you through and through, better than you know yourself. Here, go down on your knees to me! You shall go hungry!” And the poor boy would have to rub his knees, and fast for twenty-four hours, without knowing why. “Capacity and talent! that’s all nonsense!” the master was wont to say: “I only look at conduct. I will give full marks in all the branches to the boy who does not even know the first letter of the alphabet, provided he behaves himself in a praiseworthy way; and I’ll give bad marks to the boy in whom I perceive an inclination to ridicule or an evil disposition, even although he could grasp Solon by the belt and throw him.”

Thus spoke this teacher, who to the day of his death never loved Kruiloff,² because the latter had said, “Drink if you be so inclined, but attend to study and business.” This teacher was always relating with glee that in the academy where he had ruled before he came to that school, such silence reigned that you could hear the flies fly about; and, he added, that not one of the pupils, the whole year round, ever coughed or blew his nose in school-time; in fact, it was impossible to tell whether there was anyone in the room or not.

Tchitchikoff quickly caught the teacher’s spirit, and his idea as to what constituted good behaviour. He never moved an eye or an eyebrow all the time that the class lasted, no matter how much the others might pinch him behind. As soon as the bell rang, he rushed headlong so as to be the first to hand the teacher his three-cornered hat, for the teacher wore one of that description. And then our hero was the first to leave the classroom, and contriving to encounter the master three times on the way, he pulled off his cap repeatedly. These manœuvres were completely successful. During the whole of his stay at that school, he received excellent marks; and on leaving it, he obtained a certificate of thorough acquirements in all branches of knowledge, and a book, with an inscription in gilt letters, “for exemplary diligence and admirable conduct.”

On emerging from the academy, he found himself a youth of sufficiently attractive personal appearance, and with a chin which required shaving. At this juncture his father died. His inheritance proved to consist of four badly-worn waistcoats, two ancient surtouts lined with lambskin, and an insignificant sum of money. Evidently his father had not been expert in accumulating copecks. Tchitchikoff sold the venerable little house and the insignificant bit of land attached to it for a thousand roubles, and transported his seven serfs to town, with the intention of settling there and entering the official service.

At this juncture the poor teacher—the lover of silence and laudable conduct—was turned out of the academy for stupidity, or for some other fault. Then in grief he began to drink, and at length he had no money to purchase any liquor with: ill, without a mouthful of bread, or any assistance, he descended very low, to some God-forsaken, unwarmed kennel. His former pupils, the clever and brilliant ones, in whom he had continually detected disobedience and conceited behaviour, on learning of his pitiable condition, immediately collected some money for him, selling several things of their own for that purpose. Pavlusha Tchitchikoff alone declined to give anything, on the score of poverty, though at last he offered a five- copeck silver piece, which his comrades instantly flung away, saying, “Oh you miser!” The poor teacher