GEORGE DU MAURIER. ("KIKI.") Born in Paris, March 5, 1834. Died in London, October 8, 1896. "And so, good-bye!" Light words, and quickly said! But could they reach your ears, beloved dead, Their burden you would guess Better than many wearing graver face. Good-bye to genius, gentleness, and grace! A vanished presence and a vacant place Leave us in heaviness. Leave us, your comrades, lovers, friends, alone With mingling memories of all that's gone, The joy, the mirth, the wit; The large humanity, the lambent light Of humor free from smallness as from spite, A grip of iron and a style of gold, Humor refined, if scarce exuberant, wit Unpoisoned, polished, lethal in its hit, But gracious in its fence, Were his possessions; strength subdued to style; A generous scathing of the mean and vile, A stinging scourge, though wielded with a smile, For prudery and pretence. A Thackeray of the pencil! So men said. His reverence high for the great Titan dead Put by such praise with ease; But social satire of the subtler sort Was his, too. Not the shop, the slum, the court, But gay saloons gave quarry for his sport. 'Twas in such scenes as these The bold, frank outlook, and the fancy His hectoring Midas, and his high-nosed bright, The frolic glee of it! And gentler touches, too, not shown to all, earl, His worldly matron, and his winsome girl, Were found, and pictured clear, With skill creative and with strength restrained. The graver thoughts which this wild, spin- They live, his butts, cold-hearted, shallow ning ball Of misery and mad mirth Awakes in every soul whose laugh is not Mere crackling of dry thorns beneath the pot, Marking the humors heedless of the plot Of our strange drama-Earth. Gone from the ring of friends to lose him loth! brained. In his own chosen walk Du Maurier reigned Supreme, without a peer. And yet, perchance, to those who knew him best, His chosen walk scarce furnished final test Of all he might have been. He brought from two great lands the best Who may decide? Success, arriving late, THE BULLY, BY IVAN TOURGENIEFF. with writing, old glass chandeliers, court costumes dating from the reign of Katharine II, a rusty rapier with a Translated for THE LIVING AGE by Mary J. steel hilt, etc. Safford. CHAPTER I. In the year 1829 the second regiment of cuirassiers was stationed on garrison duty in the village of Kirilowo in the province of Kolomna. With its huts and hay-ricks, green fields of hemp and bean-vines twining around tall poles, the hamlet at a distance resembled an island in the midst of a boundless sea of black ploughed lands. In the centre of the village lay a small pond, perpetually strewn with goose-feathers, whose banks were always rough and muddy. About a hundred yards from this pool, on the other side of the highway stood a wooden manor house. It had long been empty, and now ́leaned forlornly on one side as if it wanted to topple over. Behind the mansion stretched a deserted garden, where grew ancient apple-trees that had stopped bearing, and tall birches in which whole flocks of crows built their nests. At the end of the main avenue, in a tiny little building-formerly used by the owners of the property as a bath-room-lived a feeble steward, who in pursuance of an old habit, dragged himself, panting and coughing, every morning through the garden to the mansiou, though ne had nothing to keep in order there except a dozen armchairs with shabby white covers, two bulging chests of drawers with short, curved feet and brass handles, four tattered pictures, and a broken-nosed alabaster statue of a negro. The owner of the house, a young man of careless life, spent part of his time in St. Petersburg and part in travelling-he had entirely forgotten this estate, which he had inherited eight years before from an old uncle famed throughout the whole neighborhood for the excellence of his liquors. The empty dark-green bottles still lay in the storeroom among all sorts of rubbish; gaily bound copy-books filled The colonel-a married man of tall stature, taciturn, quarrelsome and drowsy-had quartered himself in one of the two wings. The other was occupied by his adjutant, a kind-hearted soldier, always redolent of perfume, who had a special fancy for flowers and butterflies. The officers of this regiment were just like their comrades in all other divisions of the army. Some were good and some bad, some clever and some stupid. One, a certain Alexis Ivanovitsch Lutschkoff, a captain by rank, was considered a bully. Lutschkoff was short, anything but a fine-looking soldier. He had a small, wizened, sallow face, thin black hair, commonplace features, and little black eyes. His parents had died when he was still a child, and he had grown up in poverty and privation. For whole weeks he could behave very peaceably; then it would suddenly seem as if he were possessed by the devil; everything worried and vexed him, he cast bold, defiant glances at everybody, and from looks proceeded to action. Yet Lutschkoff was not on hostile terms with any of his comrades, though he stood on a friendly footing with no one except the perfumed adjutant. He neither drank wine nor played cards. In May, 1829, just after the commencement of the exercises, a young cornet named Feodor Fedorovitsch Kister joined the regiment. Though a native Russian, he was descended from a noble German family, and was extremely fair-complexioned, modest, highly-educated, and well-bred. Until his twentieth year he had always lived at home under the wings of his mother, grandmother, and two aunts. He had entered the army solely and entirely on account of the urgent desire of this grandmother, who even in her old age could never see a white cockade without excitement. He devoted himself to the service, though with no special taste for it, yet he showed great zeal and did his duty conscientiously. He was never dandified, but always dressed neatly and according to regulation. The very day after his arrival Kister called on his commanding officer, and then instantly set about arranging his quarters. He had brought rugs, screens, cheap hangings, etc., with which all the walls and doors were covered, and at once ordered the courtyard to be cleaned, the stable and kitchen put in order, and even a bath-room prepared. This task occupied his time for a whole week. But in consequence it was a pleasure to enter his lodgings. Before the window stood a table covered with all sorts of trifles, in one corner was a stand with books and the busts of Schiller and Goethe; on the walls hung maps, four studies of heads and a fowling-piece; beside the table was a row of pipes with beautiful mouth-pieces; all the doors shut, and the windows were supplied with curtains-in short, everything in the young cornet's room displayed order and neatness. How different was the appearance of his comrades' quarters! One found it difficult to cross the dirty courtyard; the officer's orderly sat snoring in the ante-room behind а torn sailcloth screen; rotting straw lay scattered on the floor; boots, a pomade pot, and blacking stood upon the hearth. In the room itself appeared a rickety gaming-table, scrawled over with chalk, and on the table were glasses half full of cold, dark-brown tea. Against the wall leaned a wide, greasy sofa; cigar-ashes lay on the windowsill, and in a clumsy armchair sat the officer himself, clad in a grass-green dressing-gown with pink plush facings, and wearing an embroidered Asiatic cap on his head, by his side snored a fat, shapeless, vicious dog with a dingy brass collar. Not a single door shut. Everybody liked the cornet. His popularity was due to his amiability, modesty, warm cordiality and instinctive regard "for everything beau tiful"-in short to all the qualities that they would perhaps have considered out of place in any other officer. Kister had received from his comrades the nickname of "Little Miss," and they treated him with almost tender courtesy. Lutschkoff alone looked askance at him. One day after the drill, he approached him with compressed lips and dilated nostrils. "Good-morning, Mr. Knaster." Kister looked doubtfully at him. "I pay my respects to you, Mr. Knaster." "My name is Kister, Mr. Lutschkoff." "What's in a name, Mr. Knaster." Kister turned his back upon him and went home. Lutschkoff gazed scornfully after him. The next day he again approached Kister directly after the drill. "Well, how are you, Mr. Kinderbalsam?" Kister trembled and looked him straight in the face. Lutschkoff's spiteful little eyes sparkled with malicious glee. "Yes, I'm speaking to you, Mr. Kinderbalsam." "My dear sir," replied Kister, "I consider your jest both stupid and unseemly-do you understand? Stupid and unseemly!" "When shall we fight?" replied Lutschkoff quietly. "As soon as you please-to-morrow for aught I care." The duel took place the next morning. Lutschkoff wounded Kister slightly, and then, to the great amazement of the seconds, went up to the cornet, grasped his hand, and begged his pardon. Kister was obliged to keep his room for a fortnight; during this period the captain called on the invalid several times, and when the cornet was able to go out again, the two were excellent friends. Whether the young officer's resolute bearing had pleased Lutschkoff, or some feeling akin to remorse had awakened in his breast is hard to say. At any rate, after this incident, Lutschkoff became very intimate with Kister and called him first Fedor and then familiarly Fedja. In his society he became a different man— but strange to say the change was not to his advantage. Cordiality and courtesy did not suit him. He could win no one's sympathy; it was his fate! He belonged to that class of men to whom is given the power to rule others; but nature had denied him the qualities requisite to justify such power. Possessing neither education nor intellect, he did not venture to show himself in his true character. Perhaps his rough manner was rooted only in the consciousness that his education was defective and in the desire to hide himself entirely behind a rigid mask. At first Lutschkoff had merely intended to appear to despise men. But he speedily perceived that it was not difficult to intimidate them, and therefore he began to really scorn them. It pleased him that at his approach any earnest conversation was instantly dropped. "I know nothing, have learned nothing, and possess no talents of any kind," he thought; "80 you, too, shall know nothing, and not brag of your abilities in my company." Perhaps the bully had only dropped his role in his intercourse, with Kister because never before had he met a real "Idealist”—that is, a person who was honestly and unselfishly striving toward ideals and therefore possessed no egotism and showed indulgence to his fellow-men. Lutschkoff often visited the cornet at his rooms in the morning, and lighting a pipe, sat silently in a chair. In Kister's company he was not ashamed of his ignorance, he relied, not without cause, on the cornet's German modesty. "Well," he would begin after a pause, "What were you doing yesterday? Reading, of course?" "Yes." "And what did you read? Tell me about it, my friend," Lutschkoff would continue with a slight touch of mock ery. "I was reading Kleist's Idyl. How beautiful it is! Wait, I'll translate a few verses for you." And Kister would begin to translate enthusiastically, while Lutschkoff frowned, bit his lips, and listened attentively. "Yes, yes," he would say hastily with a disagreeable smile, "pretty-very. pretty. But I believe I've already read it. Very pretty. Tell me," he would then add slowly, as if obeying some secret impulse, "tell me, what do you think of Louis XIV?" And Kister would give him his opinion of Louis XIV. Lutschkoff listened; many things he did not understand at all, many he misinterpreted, and finally he ventured to make a remark. But the resolve greatly embarrassed him. "Suppose I should say something stupid!" he thought. In truth, he often said stupid things, but Kister never answered sharply; the noblehearted youth was sincerely glad that he had awakened in the captain's mind a desire for knowledge. Unfortunately Lutschkoff did not question the cornet from any such cause! What his real motive was-Heaven knows. Perhaps Lutschkoff wanted to settle in his own mind whether he really was a simpleton or whether he merely lacked education. "Yes, I certainly am a stupid fellow, he often muttered, with a bitter smile. Then, suddenly straightening himself, he would glance around him with a bold, malicious, scornful grin on perceiving that any of his comrades lowered their eyes before his gaze. The officers did not say much about the friendship which had so quickly sprung up between Kister and Lutschkoff; they had long been accustomed to all sorts of eccentricities on the part of the bully. "The devil had struck up an intimacy with a child," they commented. Kister warmly praised his new friend everywhere; nobody contradicted him, fearing Lutschkoff. The latter never mentioned the cornet's name, but he had entirely ceased associating with the scented adjutant. CHAPTER II. Land owners in southern Russia are fond of giving large balls and inviting the officers, in order to afford their marriageable daughters an opportunity to make suitable acquaintances. About ten versts from the village of Kirilowo lived one of these land-owners, a certain Perekatoff. He owned aoout four hundred souls' and a very pretty house. His only daughter, a girl of eighteen, was called Marja, his wife's name was Nenila Makarjevna. Perekatoff had served in the cavalry in his younger days, but idleness and a preference for a country life had induced him to send in his resignation in order to lead, for the remainder of his years the quiet existence which had become habitual with the country nobility of moderate means. Nenila was descended in a left-handed fashion from a dignitary of high rank in Mos COW. The latter had had her very carefully educated in his own household, but at the first opportunity had rid himself of her with a certain degree of haste, as we dispose of wares of doubtful value. For Nenila was no beauty, and the dignitary had given her only ten thousand roubles for her dowry. She accepted Perekatoff's offer with joy, and Perekatoff considered himself fortunate in obtaining for a wife a lady so highly educated, so clever, and withal allied to so distinguished an official. Even after the marriage the grandee still graciously extended his patronage to the young couple, that is, he condescended to accept the quails Perekatoff sent to him and addressed the land-owner as "dear friend," nay, sometimes even with the familiar "thou." Nenila had her husband completely under her thumb and not only ruled the house, but managed the estate; but she managed it in a very sensible way; at any rate far better than Perekatoff would have done. She did not let him feel the yoke too much, yet held a very 1 The Russian Serfs were known by the name of "Souls."-TR. taut rein. She determined what clothes he should wear, induced him to dress in the English style, and persuaded him to grow a beard cut in the wart, which looked like a ripe raspSpanish fashion to conceal a large berry. All strangers who visited the house were told by Nenila that her husband played the flute, and fluteplayers let the beard grow on the chin for the purpose of holding the instrument more conveniently. Perekatoff even appeared early in the morning with a high, clean collar, and was always carefully brushed and combed. He was, however, perfectly satisfied with his fate; he invariably had a good dinner, did as he pleased, and slept as long as he could. The neighbors said that Nenila had introduced "foreign housekeeping;" that is, she kept but few servants and dressed them respectably. The worm of ambition was constantly gnawing at her heart; she wanted to have the office; but the nobles of the district, nobility choose her husband for some lent dinners, voted at the elections for though they enjoyed Nenila's excelMajor General Burkholz or Major Burundukoff. Perekatoff seemed to them a mere city dandy. The daughter resembled her father. Nenila had lavished a great deal of care on her education. She spoke French admirably and played the piano tolerably well. She was of middle height, moderately plump and rather pale; her face, which inclined to roundness, was always animated by a merry smile; her fair, though not very thick hair, black eyes, and pleasant voice, rendered her quite an attractive person. Besides, one involuntarily noticed that she was neither affected nor full of prejudices, possessed a degree of culture unusual among the young girls of the Steppes, and was simple and unconstrained in speech and manner; Nenila imposed no constraint upon her of any kind, so that her character had had an opportunity to develop freely. One day the whole family had assembled in the drawing-room about twelve |