“There actually was an apiary here once. Leo N. was at one time mad about bees, and used to spend whole days in the apiary. We often drove here, taking a samovar and having tea here. Once Fet came here, and we went to join Leo N. at the apiary. It was a wonderful evening; we sat here for a long time; and there were many glow-worms in the grass. Leo N. said to me: ‘Now, Sonia, you always wanted emerald earrings; take two glow-worms for earrings.’ Thereupon Fet wrote a poem in which were these lines: In my hand is thy hand--what a marvel! On the ground are two glow-worms, two emeralds.” At another point Sophie Andreevna showed me the field where Tolstoi and Turgenev once stood when shooting, and she was with them. Sophie Andreevna said: “It was the last time Turgenev stayed at Yasnaya, not long before his death. I asked him: ‘Ivan Sergeevich, why don’t you write now?’ He answered: ‘In order to write I had always to be a little in love. Now I am old, I can’t fall in love any more, and that is why I have stopped writing.’” _December 27th._ Last night I was at the Tolstois’. There were Tolstoi, Ilya, and Andrey (Tolstoi’s sons). A message arrived that Tatyana Lvovna had given birth prematurely to a stillborn child; a day before, news reached Yasnaya Polyana that the son of Leo Lvovich, a boy of about two, was dead. Sophie Andreevna left for Yasnaya. There was an atmosphere of depression. Tolstoi played chess with me. Later P. S. Usov came, who also played a game of chess with Tolstoi. We began to talk. Tolstoi became animated. The post arrived. There were three letters from Chertkov. In one of them there were many pages of closely written manuscript. Tolstoi glanced at it and said: “It is probably a woman’s writing. How nice it would be if one need not read it!” The manuscript, however, turned out not to be from a woman, so that Tolstoi put it aside to read it. Referring to his daughter’s misfortune, Tolstoi said: “I am not sorry that my daughters have no children; I cannot be glad that I have grandchildren. I know that they will inevitably grow up to be idlers. My daughters are certainly anxious that this should not be so, but considering the surroundings in which they will have to be brought up, it is very difficult to avoid it. All my life long I have had these surroundings, and, however much I struggle, I can do nothing. Now, during the Christmas season I can’t bear to look at this mad extravagance; these visits. What a terrible absurdity it is!” Usov was saying in what circumstances a doctor has the right to bring on birth artificially, thereby killing the baby. Tolstoi replied: