“I’m sick of it! You wouldn’t believe me, I’ve often thought of putting an end to myself.” “So you prefer to be a clerk?” “Yes, sir.” “H’m’m—I am sorry that I can’t help you; it’s true that I’ve just dismissed my clerk, but I don’t want another. You see, in these times one must look after everything oneself. I do all my accounts myself. Now, I have a vacancy for a bailiff, but you wouldn’t care for that ... the salary is so small ... three roubles a month.” “That is very little,” said the teacher. “There you see! and I don’t want a clerk. Besides, I can’t understand why you don’t wish to be a teacher.” “I can’t stand it, indeed I can’t!” “It’s true that the root of learning is bitter, but, you see, the fruits are sweet.... No, I would advise you to disseminate instruction among the people.... At the present time, when education has become a positive necessity, we ought all of us to assist in the work, to the limit of our powers. For my part, I am quite willing to do what I can. I will make a donation of books to your school. Here! Aliòshka! Fetch the hamper that stands under the ante-room sofa.” The footman brought in a hamper of books, gnawed all over by rats. [Illustration: “THE FORMER TEACHER, IT IS SAID, HAD HANGED HIMSELF.” ] “Now,” said the gentleman, “here’s a book for you; ‘Nature’s Vengeance,’ a capital book; I’ve forgotten what it’s about. Ah! and here ... ‘The Oath, taken at the Holy Sepulchre.’... In fact, you can have the whole lot. When your new school is built, kindly range all these works in your library with an inscription: ‘Presented by Mr. Yàkov Antònovich Svinooùkhov,[29] the squire of Prokhòrovka.’ Posterity will remember me.... I am very glad that fortune brought you here, otherwise my books would have lain by uselessly, but now they will do good; and not to one generation only, but to future ages.... Hi! Aliòshka. Tell the man to harness a horse and conduct these books and the schoolmaster with them to the village of Bezzùbov.” * * * * * Two months later the new school was built. The educational library had been enriched by the following works, the gift of Mr. Svinooùkhov:— “The Correspondence of the Nobility of Hell.” “Hunting with the Hounds.” “The Russian Theatre.” “Nature’s Vengeance.” “The Works of Bulgarin.” “Political and Moral Fables.” “_The Moscow Gazette._” “A New Latin Alphabet.” “Words to Scholars, Concerning the Attributes of True Wisdom.” “A Guide to Didactics.” “A Short Dissertation upon the Rules of True Wisdom.” &c., &c. Nothing was wanting, except a teacher. The former teacher, it is said, had hanged himself. _THE RECOLLECTIONS OF ONÉSIME CHENAPAN._