In the compilation of this volume I have been guided by the desire to give the largest possible representation to the prominent authors of the Russian short story, and to present specimens characteristic of each. At the same time the element of interest has been kept in mind; and in a few instances, as in the case of Korolenko, the selection of the story was made with a view to its intrinsic merit and striking qualities rather than as typifying the writer's art. It was, of course, impossible in the space of one book to exhaust all that is best. But to my knowledge, the present volume is the most comprehensive anthology of the Russian short story in the English language, and gives a fair notion of the achievement in that field. All who enjoy good reading, I have no reason to doubt, will get pleasure from it, and if, in addition, it will prove of assistance to American students of Russian literature, I shall feel that the task has been doubly worth the while. Korolenko's _Shades_ and Andreyev's _Lazarus_ first appeared in _Current Opinion_, and Artzybashev's _The Revolutionist_ in the _Metropolitan Magazine_. I take pleasure in thanking Mr. Edward J. Wheeler, editor of _Current Opinion_, and Mr. Carl Hovey, editor of the _Metropolitan Magazine_, for permission to reprint them. [Signature: Thomas Seltzer] "Everything is subordinated to two main requirements--humanitarian ideals and fidelity to life. This is the secret of the marvellous simplicity of Russian literary art."--THOMAS SELTZER. BEST RUSSIAN SHORT STORIES THE QUEEN OF SPADES BY ALEXSANDR S. PUSHKIN I There was a card party at the rooms of Narumov of the Horse Guards. The long winter night passed away imperceptibly, and it was five o'clock in the morning before the company sat down to supper. Those who had won, ate with a good appetite; the others sat staring absently at their empty plates. When the champagne appeared, however, the conversation became more animated, and all took a part in it. "And how did you fare, Surin?" asked the host. "Oh, I lost, as usual. I must confess that I am unlucky: I play mirandole, I always keep cool, I never allow anything to put me out, and yet I always lose!" "And you did not once allow yourself to be tempted to back the red?... Your firmness astonishes me." "But what do you think of Hermann?" said one of the guests, pointing to a young Engineer: "he has never had a card in his hand in his life, he has never in his life laid a wager, and yet he sits here till five o'clock in the morning watching our play." "Play interests me very much," said Hermann: "but I am not in the position to sacrifice the necessary in the hope of winning the superfluous." "Hermann is a German: he is economical--that is all!" observed Tomsky. "But if there is one person that I cannot understand, it is my grandmother, the Countess Anna Fedotovna." "How so?" inquired the guests.