ve
gone and published mine!"

"What do you mean? Where?"

The papa turned pale. The mamma glanced at the holy image and crossed
herself. The schoolboys jumped out of bed and, just as they were,
in short nightshirts, went up to their brother.

"Yes! My name has been published! Now all Russia knows of me! Keep
the paper, mamma, in memory of it! We will read it sometimes! Look!"

Mitya pulled out of his pocket a copy of the paper, gave it to his
father, and pointed with his finger to a passage marked with blue
pencil.

"Read it!"

The father put on his spectacles.

"Do read it!"

The mamma glanced at the holy image and crossed herself. The papa
cleared his throat and began to read: "At eleven o'clock on the
evening of the 29th of December, a registration clerk of the name
of Dmitry Kuldarov . . ."

"You see, you see! Go on!"

". . . a registration clerk of the name of Dmitry Kuldarov, coming
from the beershop in Kozihin's buildings in Little Bronnaia in an
intoxicated condition. . ."

"That's me and Semyon Petrovitch. . . . It's all described exactly!
Go on! Listen!"

". . . intoxicated condition, slipped and fell under a horse belonging
to a sledge-driver, a peasant of the village of Durikino in the
Yuhnovsky district, called Ivan Drotov. The frightened horse,
stepping over Kuldarov and drawing the sledge over him, together
with a Moscow merchant of the second guild called Stepan Lukov, who
was in it, dashed along the street and was caught by some house-porters.
Kuldarov, at first in an unconscious condition, was taken to the
police station and there examined by the doctor. The blow he had
received on the back of his head. . ."

"It was from the shaft, papa. Go on! Read the rest!"

". . . he had received on the back of his head turned out not to
be serious. The incident was duly reported. Medical aid was given
to the injured man. . . ."

"They told me to foment the back of my head with cold water. You
have read it now? Ah! So you see. Now it's all over Russia! Give
it here!"

Mitya seized the paper, folded it up and put it into his pocket.

"I'll run round to the Makarovs and show it to them. . . . I must
show it to the Ivanitskys too, Natasya Ivanovna, and Anisim
Vassilyitch. . . . I'll run! Good-bye!"

Mitya put on his cap with its cockade and, joyful and triumphant,
ran into the street.

LADIES

FYODOR PETROVITCH the Director of Elementary Schools in the N.
District, who considered hims