reminiscences of tolstoy-第3部分

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At　last　he　would　go　off　to　his　work；　and　we　would　disperse；　in　winter　to　the　different　school…rooms；　in　summer　to　the　croquet…lawn　or　somewhere　about　the　garden。　　My　mother　would　settle　down　in　the　drawing…room　to　make　some　garment　for　the　babies；　or　to　copy　out　something　she　had　not　finished　overnight；　and　till　three　or　four　in　the　afternoon　silence　would　reign　in　the　house。

Then　my　father　would　come　out　of　his　study　and　go　off　for　his　afternoon's　exercise。　　Sometimes　he　would　take　a　dog　and　a　gun；　sometimes　ride；　and　sometimes　merely　go　for　a　walk　to　the　imperial　wood。

At　five　the　big　bell　that　hung　on　the　broken　bough　of　an　old　elm…tree　in　front　of　the　house　would　ring　and　we　would　all　run　to　wash　our　hands　and　collect　for　dinner。

He　was　very　hungry；　and　ate　voraciously　of　whatever　turned　up。　　My　mother　would　try　to　stop　him；　would　tell　him　not　to　waste　all　his　appetite　on　kasha；　because　there　were　chops　and　vegetables　to　follow。　　〃You'll　have　a　bad　liver　again；〃　she　would　say；　but　he　would　pay　no　attention　to　her；　and　would　ask　for　more　and　more；　until　his　hunger　was　completely　satisfied。　　Then　he　would　tell　us　all　about　his　walk；　where　he　put　up　a　covey　of　black　game；　what　new　paths　he　discovered　in　the　imperial　wood　beyond　Kudeyarof　Well；　or；　if　he　rode；　how　the　young　horse　he　was　breaking　in　began　to　understand　the　reins　and　the　pressure　of　the　leg。　　All　this　he　would　relate　in　the　most　vivid　and　entertaining　way；　so　that　the　time　passed　gaily　and　animatedly。

After　dinner　he　would　go　back　to　his　room　to　read；　and　at　eight　we　had　tea；　and　the　best　hours　of　the　day　beganthe　evening　hours；　when　everybody　gathered　in　the　zala。　　The　grown…ups　talked　or　read　aloud　or　played　the　piano；　and　we　either　listened　to　them　or　had　some　jolly　game　of　our　own；　and　in　anxious　fear　awaited　the　moment　when　the　English　grandfather…clock　on　the　landing　would　give　a　click　and　a　buzz；　and　slowly　and　clearly　ring　out　ten。

Perhaps　mama　would　not　notice？　　She　was　in　the　sitting…room；　making　a　copy。

〃Come；　children；　bedtime！　　Say　good　night；〃　she　would　call。

〃In　a　minute；　Mama；　just　five　minutes。〃

〃Run　along；　it's　high　time；　or　there　will　be　no　getting　you　up　in　the　morning　to　do　your　lessons。〃

We　would　say　a　lingering　good　night；　on　the　lookout　for　any　chance　for　delay；　and　at　last　would　go　down…stairs　through　the　arches；　annoyed　at　the　thought　that　we　were　children　still　and　had　to　go　to　bed　while　the　grown…ups　could　stay　up　as　long　as　ever　they　liked。



　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　A　JOURNEY　TO　THE　STEPPES

WHEN　I　was　still　a　child　and　had　not　yet　read　〃War　and　Peace；〃　I　was　told　that　NATASHA　ROSTOF　was　Aunt　Tanya。　　When　my　father　was　asked　whether　that　was　true；　and　whether　DMITRY　ROSTOF　was　such　and　such　a　person　and　LEVIN　such　and　such　another；　he　never　gave　a　definite　answer；　and　one　could　not　but　feel　that　he　disliked　such　questions　and　was　rather　offended　by　them。

In　those　remote　days　about　which　I　am　talking；　my　father　was　very　keen　about　the　management　of　his　estate；　and　devoted　a　lot　of　energy　to　it。　　I　can　remember　his　planting　the　huge　apple　orchard　at　Yasnaya　and　several　hundred　acres　of　birch　and　pine　forest；　and　at　the　beginning　of　the　seventies；　for　a　number　of　years；　he　was　interested　in　buying　up　land　cheap　in　the　province　of　Samara；　and　breeding　droves　of　steppe　horses　and　flocks　of　sheep。

I　still　have　pretty　clear；　though　rather　fragmentary　and　inconsequent；　recollections　of　our　three　summer　excursions　to　the　steppes　of　Samara。

My　father　had　already　been　there　before　his　marriage　in　1862；　and　afterward　by　the　advice　of　Dr。　Zakharyin；　who　attended　him。　　He　took　the　kumiss…cure　in　1871　and　1872；　and　at　last；　in　1873；　the　whole　family　went　there。

At　that　time　my　father　had　bought　several　hundred　acres　of　cheap　Bashkir　lands　in　the　district　of　Buzuluk；　and　we　went　to　stay　on　our　new　property　at　a　khutor；　or　farm。

In　Samara　we　lived　on　the　farm　in　a　tumble…down　wooden　house；　and　beside　us；　in　the　steppe；　were　erected　two　felt　kibitkas；　or　Tatar　frame　tents；　in　which　our　Bashkir；　Muhammed　Shah　Romanytch；　lived　with　his　wives。

Morning　and　evening　they　used　to　tie　the　mares　up　outside　the　kibitkas；　where　they　were　milked　by　veiled　women；　who　then　hid　themselves　from　the　sight　of　the　men　behind　a　brilliant　chintz　curtain；　and　made　the　kumiss。

The　kumiss　was　bitter　and　very　nasty；　but　my　father　and　my　uncle　Stephen　Behrs　were　very　fond　of　it；　and　drank　it　in　large　quantities。

When　we　boys　began　to　get　big；　we　had　at　first　a　German　tutor　for　two　or　three　years；　Fyodor　Fyodorovitch　Kaufmann。

I　cannot　say　that　we　were　particularly　fond　of　him。　　He　was　rather　rough；　and　even　we　children　were　struck　by　his　German　stupidity。　　His　redeeming　feature　was　that　he　was　a　devoted　sportsman。　　Every　morning　he　used　to　jerk　the　blankets　off　us　and　shout；　〃Auf；　Kinder！　auf！〃　and　during　the　daytime　plagued　us　with　German　calligraphy。



　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　OUTDOOR　SPORTS

THE　chief　passion　of　my　childhood　was　riding。　　I　well　remember　the　time　when　my　father　used　to　put　me　in　the　saddle　in　front　of　him　and　we　would　ride　out　to　bathe　in　the　Voronka。　　I　have　several　interesting　recollections　connected　with　these　rides。

One　day　as　we　were　going　to　bathe；　papa　turned　round　and　said　to　me：

〃Do　you　know；　Ilyusha；　I　am　very　pleased　with　myself　to…day。　　I　have　been　bothered　with　her　for　three　whole　days；　and　could　not　manage　to　make　her　go　into　the　house；　try　as　I　would；　it　was　impossible。　　It　never　would　come　right。　　But　to…day　I　remembered　that　there　is　a　mirror　in　every　hall；　and　that　every　lady　wears　a　bonnet。

〃As　soon　as　I　remembered　that；　she　went　where　I　wanted　her　to；　and　did　everything　she　had　to。　　You　would　think　a　bonnet　is　a　small　affair；　but　everything　depended　on　that　bonnet。〃

As　I　recall　this　conversation；　I　feel　sure　that　my　father　was　talking　about　that　scene　in　〃Anna　Karenina〃　where　ANNA　went　to　see　her　son。

Although　in　the　final　form　of　the　novel　nothing　is　said　in　this　scene　either　about　a　bonnet　or　a　mirror；nothing　is　mentioned　but　a　thick　black　veil；still；　I　imagine　that　in　its　original　form；　when　he　was　working　on　the　passage；　my　father　may　have　brought　Anna　up　to　the　mirror；　and　made　her　straighten　her　bonnet　or　take　it　off。

I　can　remember　the　interest　with　which　he　told　me　this；　and　it　now　seems　strange　that　he　should　have　talked　about　such　subtle　artistic　experiences　to　a　boy　of　seven　who　was　hardly　capable　of　understanding　him　at　the　time。　　However；　that　was　often　the　case　with　him。

I　once　heard　from　him　a　very　interesting　description　of　what　a　writer　needs　for　his　work：

〃You　cannot　imagine　how　important　one's　mood　is；〃　he　said。　〃Sometimes　you　get　up　in　the　morning；　fresh　and　vigorous；　with　your　head　clear；　and　you　begin　to　write。　　Everything　is　sensible　and　consistent。　　You　read　it　over　next　day；　and　have　to　throw　the　whole　thing　away；　because；　good　as　it　is；　it　misses　the　main　thing。　　There　is　no　imagination　in　it；　no　subtlety；　none　of　the　necessary　something；　none　of　that　only　just　without　which　all　your　cleverness　is　worth　nothing。　　Another　day　you　get　up　after　a　bad　night；　with　your　nerves　all　on　edge；　and　you　think；　'To…day　I　shall　write　well；　at　any　rate。'　　And　as　a　matter　of　fact；　what　you　write　is　beautiful；　picturesque；　with　any　amount　of　imagination。　You　look　it　through　again；　it　is　no　good；　because　it　is　written　stupidly。　　There　is　plenty　of　color；　but　not　enough　intelligence。

〃One's　writing　is　good　only　when　the　intelligence　and　the　imagination　are　in　equilibrium。　　As　soon　as　one　of　them　overbalances　the　other；　it's　all　up；　you　may　as　well　throw　it　away　and　begin　afresh。〃

As　a　matter　of　fact；　there　was　no　end　to　the　rewriting　in　my　father's　works。　　His　industry　in　this　particular　was　truly　marvelous。

We　were　always　devoted　to　sport　from　our　earliest　childhood。　I　can　remember　as　well　as　I　remember　myself　my　father's　favorite　dog　in　those　days；　an　Irish　setter　called　Dora。　　They　would　bring

round　the　cart；　with　a　very　quiet　horse　between　the　shafts；　and　we　would　drive　out　to　the　marsh；　to　Degatna　or　to　Malakhov。　　My　father　and　sometimes　my　mother　or　a　coachman　sat　on　the　seat；　while　I　and　Dora　lay　on　the　floor。

When　we　got　to　the　marsh；　my　father　used　to　get　out；　stand　his　gun　on　the　ground；　and；　holding　it　with　his　left　hand；　load　it。

Dora　meanwhile　fidgeted　about；　whining　impatiently　and　wagging　her　thick　tail。

While　my　father　splashed　through　the　marsh；　we　drove　round　the　bank　somewhat　behind　him；　and　eagerly　followed　the　ranging　of　the　dog；　the　getting　up　of　the　snipe；　and　the　shooting。　　My　father　sometimes　shot　fairly　well；　though　he　often　lost　his　head；　and　missed　frantically。

But　our　favorite　sport　was　coursing　with　greyhounds。　　What　a　pleasure　it　was　when　the　footman　Sergei　Petrovitch　came　in　and　woke　us　up　before　dawn；　with　a　candle　in　his　hand！

We　jumped　up　full　of　energy　and　happiness；　trembling　all　over　in　the　morning　cold；　threw　on　our　clothes　as　quickly　as　we　could；　and　ran　out　into　the　zala；　where　the　samovar　was　boiling　and　papa　was　waiting　for　us。

Sometimes　mama　came　in　in　her　dressing…gown；　and　made　us　put　on　all　sorts　of　extra　woolen　stockings；　and　sweaters　and　gloves。

〃What　are　you　going　to　wear；　Lyovotchka？〃　she　would　say　to　papa。　　〃It's　very　cold　to…day；　and　there　is　a　wind。　　Only　the　Kuzminsky　overcoat　again　today？　　You　must　put　on　something　underneath；　if　only　for　my　sake。〃

Papa　would　make　a　face；　but　give　in　at　last；　and　buckle　on　his　short　gray　overcoat　under　the　other　and　sally　forth。　　It　would　then　be　growing　light。　　Our　horses　were　brought　round；　we　got　on；　and　rode　first　to　〃the　other　house；〃　or　to　the　kennels　to　get　the　dogs。

Agafya　Mikhailovna　would　be　anxiously　waiting　us　on　the　steps。　　Despite　the　coldness　of　the　morning；　she　would　be　bareheaded　and　lightly　clad；　with　her　black　jacket　open；　showing　her　withered；　old　bosom。　　She　carried　the　dog…collars　in　her　lean；　knotted　hands。

〃Have　you　gone　and　fed　them　again？〃　asks　my　father；　severely；　looking　at　the　dogs'　bulging　stomachs。

〃Fed　them？　　Not　a　bit；　only　just　a　crust　of　bread　apiece。〃

〃Then　what　are　they　licking　their　chops　for？〃

〃There　was　a　bit　of　yesterday's　oatmeal　left　over。〃

〃I　thought　as　much！　　All　the　hares　will　get