With excitement I looked forward to my first day of school. I was anxious to make a good impression on my teachers. Dressed in a blue or white pinafore and with ribbon bows on my hair, holding my Mother’s hand, I felt quite grown up as I joined Marie in the school room on the second floor of the palace. I was proud to hear Mother say that I was good, quiet, and thoughtful as I sat at a fair-sized table opposite my tutor, answering the questions. But to Mother’s disappointment my good behavior did not last long. As the days passed, confinement began to irk me and I longed for the outdoors. School became a difficult chore for me, and no doubt I was difficult for my teachers. My mind turned to the other side of the classroom door. Only the threat of punishment could bring me to a school desk at all, and once there, instead of concentrating on my lessons, I planned my activities for the hours after school. My mind dreamed about Vanka, the donkey, when she came as a present to Alexei. She was very bright and extremely stubborn. She was named for a character in a humorous Russian song of the time. Vanka was cunning. When Alexei hurt himself, she laid her head on his shoulder as if she were crying. She could shake hands, wobble as if dancing, and rolled her eyes flirtatiously. She understood every word we said, often shook her ears in joy. But when things were not in her favor, she stared straight at us. Her ears stood up into a half-cone. She had been a circus donkey, but she would only perform when she felt like it. Derevenko, the sailor, could make her walk while I rode her, but she wanted a lump of sugar in payment for every step she took. “Anastasia, put your mind on your work,” jarred my consciousness away from Vanka and back into the classroom. I did like arithmetic and drawing. I would often doodle until my pencil was taken away and the lessons resumed. In the spring it was more difficult to concentrate. The warm, sweet air and the chirping birds would not let me sit still. Often after school, Mother would take me to my favorite farm where I felt complete freedom. Here were many soft creatures to cuddle: tiny pink piglets, toylike lambs, calves and colts, the cutest I ever saw. There were human babies, too, belonging to the farm workers, but Olga had a way of monopolizing them. Every place we went the children followed us and were anxious to show anything new that happened. They all spoke at once, excitedly. We pretended to be surprised, which encouraged them to tell each story over again.