confided to the care of an old servant Saveliitch, whose steadiness
promoted him to the rank of my personal attendant. Thanks to his
care, when I was twelve years of age I knew how to read and write,
and could make a correct estimate of the points of a hunting dog.

At this time, to complete my education, my father engaged upon a
salary a Frenchman, M. Beaupre, who was brought from Moscow with
one year's provision of wine and oil from Provence. His arrival
of course displeased Saveliitch.

Beaupre had been in his own country a valet, in Prussia a soldier,
then he came to Russia to be a tutor, not knowing very well what
the word meant in our language. He was a good fellow, astonishingly
gay and absent-minded. His chief foible was a passion for the fair
sex. Nor was he, to use his own expression, an enemy to the bottle
--that is to say, _a la Russe_, he loved drink. But as at home wine
was offered only at table, and then in small glasses, and as,
moreover, on these occasions, the servants passed by the pedagogue,
Beaupre soon accustomed himself to Russian brandy, and, in time,
preferred it, as a better tonic, to the wines of his native country.
We became great friends, and although according to contract he was
engaged to teach me French, German, and _all the sciences_, yet he
was content that I should teach him to chatter Russian. But as each of
us minded his own business, our friendship was constant, and I desired
no mentor. However, destiny very soon separated us, in consequence
of an event which I will relate.

Our laundress, a fat girl all scarred by small-pox, and our dairymaid,
who was blind of an eye, agreed, one fine day, to throw themselves
at my mother's feet and accuse the Frenchman of trifling with their