ffice. Certainly, none of the Emperor's various suits
had ever excited so much admiration as this.

"But the Emperor has nothing at all on!" said a little child. "Listen
to the voice of innocence!" exclaimed his father; and what the child
had said was whispered from one to another.

"But he has nothing at all on!" at last cried out all the people. The
Emperor was vexed, for he knew that the people were right; but he
thought "the procession must go on now!" And the lords of the
bed-chamber took greater pains than ever to appear holding up a train,
altho, in reality, there was no train to hold.

IVAN TURGENEFF

Born in 1818; died in 1883; educated in Moscow and St.
Petersburg; studied also in Berlin; received an official
appointment in 1840; began to publish poems in 1841;
published a novel in 1844; his fame as an author established
as early as 1850; banished to Orel, but allowed to return in
1854; lived afterward in Baden-Baden and Paris, making short
visits to Russia; continued to produce novels until his
death.

BAZAROV'S DEATH[50]

THE sound of a light carriage on springs--that sound which is
peculiarly impressive in the wilds of the country--suddenly struck
upon his hearing. Nearer and nearer rolled the light wheels; now even
the neighing of the horses could be heard. Vassily Ivanovitch jumped
up and ran to the little window. There drove into the courtyard of his
little house a carriage with seats for two, with four horses harnessed
abreast. Without stopping to consider what it could mean, with a rush
of a sort of senseless joy, he ran out on to the steps. A groom in
livery was opening the carriage door; a lady in a black veil and a
black mantle was getting out of it.

[Footnote 50: From "Fathers and Children." Translated from the Russian
by Constance Garnett.]

"I am Madame Odintsov," she said. "Yevgeny Vassilyitch is still
living? You are his father? I have a doctor with me."

"Benefactress!" cried Vassily Ivanovitch; and snatching her hand, he
prest it convulsively to his lips; while the doctor brought by Anna
Sergyevna, a little man in spectacles, of German physiognomy, stept
very deliberately out of the carriage. "Still living, my Yevgeny is
still living, and now he will be saved! Wife! wife! An angel from
heaven has come to us."

"What does it mean, good Lord!" faltered the old woman, running out of
the drawing-room; and comprehending nothing,