to the country, to the house of an aunt who lived in the Government of Ryazan. My auntie seemed to be a glorious and good-natured old lady, who always had heaps of young people about her. But at that time everyone was infected by the foolish habit of reading forbidden books--and suddenly I found myself in gaol, where I suppose I must have remained three or four months. Mamma thereupon instructed me by letter that I had killed her; papa informed me that I had dishonoured him--what very tiresome parents it was my fate to have! You know that if a man were free to choose his own parents it would be a much more convenient arrangement than the present order of things--now, wouldn't it? Well, well! They let me out of prison, and I went to Nijni-Novgorod, where I had a married sister. But my sister appeared to be overwhelmed by family cares, and very ill-humoured on that account. What was I to do? Just at the nick of time Mass was being celebrated, and I joined the choir of singers. My voice was good, I had a handsome exterior, they promoted me to the rank of solo-singer, and I sang all by myself. You imagine, I suppose, that I must have taken to drink on this occasion. No, even now I hardly ever drink vodka, only sometimes, and that very rarely--by way of warming myself. A drunkard I never was; of course I have had my fill when good wines were going--champagne for instance, and if you gave me Marsala, lots of it I mean, I should undoubtedly get drunk upon it, for I love it as I love women Women I love to frenzy--and perhaps I hate 'em too, for in the end I always feel an irresistible desire to play them some dirty trick.... Well, well! _Why_ I feel so mad with them sometimes I do not know and cannot explain to myself. They have always been gracious to me, for I was handsome and bold. But they're such ties! Well, the deuce take them for what I care. I love to hear them cry and groan--for then I always think: Aha! now you are having your deserts. However, there was I singing away, I cared not what, so long as I had a merry life. Then, one day, I was suddenly accosted by a clean-shaven man who appeared before me and said: "Have you ever tried acting on the stage?" Well, I had played a part in domestic spectacles. "Would you like to earn twenty-five roubles[1] a month for playing light-comedy parts?" "All right!" said I. So off we went to the town of Perm. At Perm I played and sang in comic operas made up as a passionate dark young chap--with a past, the past of a political offender. The ladies were in raptures. Then I took the second lover rôles. "Try the heroic parts," they said to me. So I played the part of Max in "Errant Fires," and it went off capitally--I knew it I played through a whole season That summer our tour was a great success. We played at Vyatka, we played at Ufa, we even played at Elabuga. In the winter we returned to Perm. [1] £2 10s.