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Alexander Sergeyevitch Pushkin was born at Moscow on June 7,
1799. He came of an ancient family, a strange ancestor being a
favourite negro ennobled by Peter the Great, who bequeathed to
him a mass of curly hair and a somewhat darker skin than
usually falls to the lot of the ordinary Russian. Early in
life a daring "Ode to Liberty" brought him the displeasure of
the court, and the young poet narrowly escaped a journey to
Siberia by accepting an official post at Kishineff, in
Southern Russia. But on the accession of Tsar Nicholas in
182s, Pushkin was recalled and appointed imperial
historiographer. His death, which occurred on February 10,
1837, was the result of a duel fought with his brother-in-law.
Pushkin's career was one of almost unparallelled brilliancy.
As a poet, he still remains the greatest Russia has produced;
and although his prose works do not rise to the high standard
of his verse, yet they are of no inconsiderable merit. "The
Captain's Daughter, a Russian Romance," was written about
1831, and published under the _nom de plume_ of Ivan Byelkin.
It is a story of the times of Catherine II., and is not only
told with interest and charm, but with great simplicity and
reality, and with a due sense of drama. Others of his novels
are "The Pistol Shot," "The Queen of Spades," and "The
Undertaker," the last-named a grim story in a style that has
been familiarised to English readers by Edgar Allan Poe.

_I.--I Join the Army_

My father, after serving in the army, had retired with the rank of
senior major. Since that time he had always lived on his estate, where
he married the eldest daughter of a poor gentleman in the neighbourhood.
All my brothers and sisters died young, and it was decided that I should
enter the army.

When I was nearly seventeen, instead of being sent to join the guards'
regiment at Petersburg, my father told me I was going to Orenburg. "You
will learn nothing at Petersburg but to spend money and commit follies,"
he said. "No, you shall smell powder and become a soldier, not an
idler."

It seemed horrible to me to be doomed to the dullness of a savage and
distant province, and to lose the gaiety I had been looking forward to;
but there was nothing for it but to submit.

The morning arrived for my departure, the travelling carriage was at the
door, and our o