th this pistol here!"

"But what profit is there for me in that?"

"No profit whatever--but it's a curious thing, nevertheless."

This conversation took place after a carouse, in the presence of
witnesses. Whether Misha's proposal really did strike the officer as
curious or not,--at all events, he consented. The cards were brought,
the game began. Misha was lucky; he won one hundred rubles. And
thereupon his opponent smote himself on the forehead.

"What a blockhead I am!" he cried.--"On what a bait was I caught! If
thou hadst lost, much thou wouldst have shot thyself through the
hand!--so it's just an assault on my pocket!"

"That's where thou art mistaken," retorted Misha:--"I have won--but I'll
shoot the hole through my hand."

He seized his pistol, and bang! shot himself through the hand. The
bullet went clear through ... and a week later the wound was completely
healed!

On another occasion still, Misha is riding along the road by night with
his comrades.... And they see yawning, right by the side of the road, a
narrow ravine in the nature of a cleft, dark, very dark, and the bottom
of it not visible.

"Here now," says one comrade, "Misha is reckless enough about some
things, but he will not leap into this ravine."

"Yes, I will!"

"No, thou wilt not, because it is, probably, ten fathoms deep, and thou
mightest break thy neck."

His friend knew how to attack him--through his vanity.... Misha had a
great deal of it.

"But I will leap, nevertheless! Wilt thou bet on it? Ten rubles."

"All right!"

And before his comrade had managed to finish the last word Misha flew
off his horse into the ravine, and crashed down on the stones. They were
all fairly petrified with horror.... A good minute passed, and they
heard Misha's voice proceeding as though from the bowels of the earth,
and very dull:

"I'm whole! I landed on sand.... But the descent was long! Ten rubles on
you!"

"Climb out!" shouted his comrades.

"Yes, climb out!"--returned Misha. "Damn it! One can't climb out of
here! You will have to ride off now for ropes and lanterns. And in the
meanwhile, so that I may not find the waiting tedious, toss me down a
flask...."

And so Misha had to sit for five hours at the bottom of the ravine; and
when they dragged him out, it appeared that he had a dislocated
shoulder. But this did not daunt him in the least. On the following day
a blacksmith bone-setter set his shoulder, and he used it as though