the poor" engross my pen; and while I record the history of Flor Silin's
virtues, though I speak of a poor peasant, I shall describe a noble man. I
ask no eloquence to assist me in the task; modest worth rejects the aid of
ornament to set it off.

2. It is impossible, even at this distant period, to reflect without
horror on the miseries of that year known in Lower Volga by the name of
the "Famine Year." I remember the summer, whose scorching heats had dried
up all the fields, and the drought had no relief but from the tears of the
ruined farmer.

3. I remember the cold, comfortless autumn, and the despairing rustics,
crowding round their empty barns, with folded arms and sorrowful
countenances, pondering on their misery, instead of rejoicing, as usual,
at the golden harvest. I remember the winter which succeeded, and I
reflect with agony on the miseries it brought with it. Whole families left
their homes to become beggars on the highway.

4. At night the canopy of heaven served them as their only shelter from
the piercing winds and bitter frost. To describe these scenes would be to
harm the feelings of my readers; therefore, to my tale. In those days I
lived on an estate not far from Simbirsk; and, though but a child, I have
not forgotten the impression made on my mind by the general calamity.

5. In a village adjoining lived Flor Silin, a poor, laboring peasant,--a
man remarkable for his assiduity and the skill and judgment with which he
cultivated his lands. He was blessed with abundant crops; and his means
being larger than his wants, his granaries, even at this time, were full
of corn. The dry year coming on had beggared all the village except
himself. Here was an opportunity to grow rich. Mark how Flor Silin acted.