with his gloomy eyes. Then he would thoughtfully and slowly
direct his steps to the eatinghouse of Vaviloff, where he would
drink silently and quickly till all his senses left him.

* * * * *

Almost every day after his reporting he would bring a newspaper,
and then gather round him all these creatures that once were men.

On seeing him, they would come forward from all corners of the
court-yard, drunk, or suffering from drunken headache,
dishevelled, tattered, miserable, and pitiable. Then would come
the barrel-like, stout Aleksei Maksimovitch Simtsoff, formerly
Inspector of Woods and Forests, under the Department of
Appendages, but now trading in matches, ink, blacking, and
lemons. He was an old man of sixty, in a canvas overcoat and a
wide-brimmed hat, the greasy borders of which hid his stout fat
red face. He had a thick white beard, out of which a small red
nose turned gaily heavenwards. He had thick, crimson lips and
watery, cynical eyes. They called him "Kubar," a name which well
described his round figure and buzzing speech. After him, Kanets
appeared from some corner--a dark, sad-looking, silent drunkard:
then the former governor of the prison, Luka Antonovitch
Martyanoff, a man who existed on "remeshok," "trilistika," and
"bankovka,"* and many such cunning games, not much appreciated by
the police. He would throw his hard and oft-scourged body on the
grass beside the teacher, and, turning his eyes round and
scratching his head, would ask in a hoarse, bass voice, "May I?"

Note by translator.--Well-known games of chance, played by the