At that moment the tailor arrived with some new clothes for us.

"Well, so be it!" I said in much vexation as I crammed the verses
hastily under my pillow and ran down to adorn myself in the new Moscow
garments.

They fitted marvellously-both the brown jacket with yellow buttons (a
garment made skin-tight and not "to allow room for growth," as in
the country) and the black trousers (also close-fitting so that they
displayed the figure and lay smoothly over the boots).

"At last I have real trousers on!" I thought as I looked at my legs with
the utmost satisfaction. I concealed from every one the fact that the
new clothes were horribly tight and uncomfortable, but, on the contrary,
said that, if there were a fault, it was that they were not tight
enough. For a long while I stood before the looking-glass as I combed
my elaborately pomaded head, but, try as I would, I could not reduce the
topmost hairs on the crown to order. As soon as ever I left off combing
them, they sprang up again and radiated in different directions, thus
giving my face a ridiculous expression.

Karl Ivanitch was dressing in another room, and I heard some one
bring him his blue frockcoat and under-linen. Then at the door leading
downstairs I heard a maid-servant's voice, and went to see what she
wanted. In her hand she held a well-starched shirt which she said she
had been sitting up all night to get ready. I took it, and asked if
Grandmamma was up yet.

"Oh yes, she has had her coffee, and the priest has come. My word, but