the Prototchny cross-street, between Beregovoy Passage and Nikolsky
Alley. In this quarter are situated the houses generally called the
Rzhanoff Houses, or the Rzhanoff fortress. These houses once
belonged to a merchant named Rzhanoff, but now belong to the Zimins.
I had long before heard of this place as a haunt of the most terrible
poverty and vice, and I had accordingly requested the directors of
the census to assign me to this quarter. My desire was granted.

On receiving the instructions of the City Council, I went alone, a
few days previous to the beginning of the census, to reconnoitre my
section. I found the Rzhanoff fortress at once, from the plan with
which I had been furnished.

I approached from Nikolsky Alley. Nikolsky Alley ends on the left in
a gloomy house, without any gates on that side; I divined from its
appearance that this was the Rzhanoff fortress.

Passing down Nikolsky Street, I overtook some lads of from ten to
fourteen years of age, clad in little caftans and great-coats, who
were sliding down hill, some on their feet, and some on one skate,
along the icy slope beside this house. The boys were ragged, and,
like all city lads, bold and impudent. I stopped to watch them. A
ragged old woman, with yellow, pendent cheeks, came round the corner.
She was going to town, to the Smolensk market, and she groaned
terribly at every step, like a foundered horse. As she came
alongside me, she halted and drew a hoarse sigh. In any other
locality, this old woman would have asked money of me, but here she
merely addressed me.

"Look there," said she, pointing at the boys who were sliding, "all