ng statement:--

"_It was I who killed, with a hatchet, the old moneylender and her
sister, Elizabeth, and robbery was my motive_."

Elia Petrovitch called for assistance. People rushed in from various
directions. Raskolnikoff repeated his confession.

FOOTNOTES TO _CRIME & PUNISHMENT_:

[1]: (At the risk of shocking the reader, it has been decided that the
real permanent detective stories of the world were ill represented
without Dostoyevsky's terrible tale of what might be called
"self-detection." If to sensitive readers the story seems so real as
to be hideous, it is well to recall that Dostoyevsky in 1849
under-went the agony of sentence to death as a revolutionist. Although
the sentence was commuted to hard labor in Siberia, and although six
years later he was freed and again took up his writing, his mind never
rose from beneath the weight of horror and hopelessness that hangs
over offenders against the Great White Czar. Dostoyevsky, sentenced as
a criminal, herded with criminals, really _became_ a criminal in
literary imagination. Add to this a minute observation, a marvelous
memory, ardent political convictions--and we can understand why the
story here, with others of his, is taken as a scientific text by
criminologists.--EDITOR.)

[2]: 1,000 yards.

[3]: Janitors.

[4]: little father

[5]: Cabbage soup.

ANTON CHEKHOFF

_THE SAFETY MATCH_

On the morning of October 6, 1885, in the office of the Inspector of
Police of the second division of S---- District, there appeared a
respectably dressed young man, who announced that his master, Marcus
Ivanovitch Klausoff, a retired officer of the Horse Guards, separated
from his wife, had been murdered. While making this announcement the
young man was white and terribly agitated. His hands trembled and his
eyes were full of terror.

"Whom have I the honor of addressing?" asked the inspector.

"Psyekoff, Lieutenant Klausoff's agent; agriculturist and
mechanician!"

The inspector and his deputy, on visiting the scene of the occurrence
in company with Psyekoff, found the following: Near the wing in which
Klausoff had lived was gathered a dense crowd. The news of the murder
had sped swift as lightning through the neighborhood, and the
peasantry, thanks to the fact that the day was a holiday, had hurried
together from all the neighboring villages. There was much commotion
and talk. Here and there, pale, tear-stained faces were seen. The door
of Klaus