When, on May 8th, I returned home from the final, the divinity,
examination, I found my acquaintance, the foreman from Rozonoff’s,
awaiting me. He had called once before to fit me for my gown, as well
as for a tunic of glossy black cloth (the lapels of which were, on that
occasion, only sketched in chalk), but to-day he had come to bring me
the clothes in their finished state, with their gilt buttons wrapped in
tissue paper.
Donning the garments, and finding them splendid (notwithstanding that
St. Jerome assured me that the back of the tunic wrinkled badly), I went
downstairs with a complacent smile which I was powerless to banish from
my face, and sought Woloda, trying the while to affect unconsciousness
of the admiring looks of the servants, who came darting out of the hall
and corridor to gaze upon me with ravished eyes. Gabriel, the butler,
overtook me in the salle, and, after congratulating me with much
empressement, handed me, according to instructions from my father, four
bank-notes, as well as informed me that Papa had also given orders that,
from that day forth, the groom Kuzma, the phaeton, and the bay horse
Krassavchik were to be entirely at my disposal. I was so overjoyed at
this not altogether expected good-fortune that I could no longer feign
indifference in Gabriel’s presence, but, flustered and panting, said
the first thing which came into my head (“Krassavchik is a splendid
trotter,” I think it was). Then, catching sight of the various heads
protruding from the doors of the hall and corridor, I felt that I
could bear no more, and set off running at full speed across the salle,
dressed as I was in the new tunic, with its shining gilt buttons. Just
as I burst into Woloda’s room, I heard behind me the voices of Dubkoff
and Nechludoff, who had come to congratulate me, as well as to propose
a dinner somewhere and the drinking of much champagne in honour of my
matriculation. Dimitri informed me that, though he did not care for
champagne, he would nevertheless join us that evening and drink my
health, while Dubkoff remarked that I looked almost like a colonel, and
Woloda omitted to congratulate me at all, merely saying in an acid way
that he supposed we should now--i.e. in two days time--be off into the
country. The truth was that Woloda, though pleased at my matriculation,
did not altogether like my becoming as grown-up as himself. St. Jerome,
who also joined us at this moment, said in a very pompous manner that
his duties were now ended, and that, although he did not know whether
they had been well done or ill, at least he had done his best, and must
depart to-morrow to his Count’s. In replying to their various remarks
I could feel, in spite of myself, a pleased, agreeable, faintly
self-sufficient smile playing over my countenance, as well as could
remark that that smile, communicated itself to those to whom I was
speaking.
So here was I without a tutor, yet with my own private drozhki, my
name printed on the list of students, a sword and belt of my own, and a
chance of an occasional salute from officials! In short, I was grownup
and, I suppose, happy.
Finally, we arranged to go out and dine at five o’clock, but since
Woloda presently went off to Dubkoff’s, and Dimitri disappeared in
his usual fashion (saying that there was something he MUST do before
dinner), I was left with two whole hours still at my disposal. For a
time I walked through the rooms of the house, and looked at myself
in all the mirrors--firstly with the tunic buttoned, then with it
unbuttoned, and lastly with only the top button fastened. Each time it
looked splendid. Eventually, though anxious not to show any excess of
delight, I found myself unable to refrain from crossing over to the
coach-house and stables to gaze at Krassovchik, Kuzma, and the drozhki.
Then I returned and once more began my tour of the rooms, where I looked
at myself in all the mirrors as before, and counted my money over in my
pocket--my face smiling happily the while. Yet not an hour had elapsed
before I began to feel slightly ennuye--to feel a shade of regret that
no one was present to see me in my splendid position. I began to long
for life and movement, and so sent out orders for the drozhki to be got
ready, since I had made up my mind to drive to the Kuznetski Bridge and
make some purchases.
In this connection I recalled how, after matriculating, Woloda had gone
and bought himself a lithograph of horses by Victor Adam and some pipes
and tobacco: wherefore I felt that I too must do the same. Amid glances
showered upon me from every side, and with the sunlight reflected from
my buttons, cap-badge, and sword, I drove to the Kuznetski Bridge,
where, halting at a Picture shop, I entered it with my eyes looking to
every side. It was not precisely horses by Adam which I meant to buy,
since I did not wish to be accused of too closely imitating Woloda;
wherefore, out of shame for causing the obsequious shopmen such
agitation as I appeared to do, I made a hasty selection, and pitched
upon a water-colour of a woman’s head which I saw displayed in the
window--price twenty roubles. Yet no sooner had I paid the twenty
roubles over the counter than my heart smote me for having put two
such beautifully dressed shop-assistants to so much trouble for such
a trifle. Moreover, I fancied that they were regarding me with some
disdain. Accordingly, in my desire to show them what manner of man I
was, I turned my attention to a silver trifle which I saw displayed in
a show-case, and, recognising that it was a porte-crayon (price eighteen
roubles), requested that it should forthwith be wrapped in paper for me.
Next, the money paid, and the information acquired that splendid pipes
and tobacco were to be obtained in an adjacent emporium, I bowed to the
two shopmen politely, and issued into the street with the picture under
my arm. At the shop next door (which had painted on its sign-board a
negro smoking a cigar) I bought (likewise out of a desire to imitate no
one) some Turkish tobacco, a Stamboul hookah, and two pipes. On coming
out of the shop, I had just entered the drozhki when I caught sight of
Semenoff, who was walking hurriedly along the pavement with his head
bent down. Vexed that he should not have recognised me, I called out
to him pretty loudly, “Hold on a minute!” and, whipping up the drozhki,
soon overtook him.
“How do you do?” I said.
“My respects to you,” he replied, but without stopping.
“Why are you not in your University uniform?” I next inquired.
At this he stopped short with a frown, and parted his white teeth as
though the sun were hurting his eyes. The next moment, however, he
threw a glance of studied indifference at my drozhki and uniform, and
continued on his way.
From the Kuznetski Bridge, I drove to a confectioner’s in Tverskaia
Street, and, much as I should have liked it to be supposed that it was
the newspapers which most interested me, I had no choice but to begin
falling upon tartlet after tartlet. In fact, for all my bashfulness
before a gentleman who kept regarding me with some curiosity from behind
a newspaper, I ate with great swiftness a tartlet of each of the eight
different sorts which the confectioner kept.
On reaching home, I experienced a slight touch of stomach-ache, but paid
no attention to it, and set to work to inspect my purchases. Of these,
the picture so much displeased me that, instead of having it framed and
hung in my room, as Woloda had done with his, I took pains to hide it
behind a chest of drawers, where no one could see it. Likewise, though I
also found the porte-crayon distasteful, I was able, as I laid it on my
table, to comfort myself with the thought that it was at least a SILVER
article--so much capital, as it were--and likely to be very useful to
a student. As for the smoking things, I decided to put them into use at
once, and try their capabilities.
Unsealing the four packages, and carefully filling the Stamboul pipe
with some fine-cut, reddish-yellow Turkish tobacco, I applied a hot
cinder to it, and, taking the mouthpiece between my first and second
fingers (a position of the hand which greatly caught my fancy), started
to inhale the smoke.
The smell of the tobacco seemed delightful, yet something burnt my mouth
and caught me by the breath. Nevertheless, I hardened my heart, and
continued to draw abundant fumes into my interior. Then I tried blowing
rings and retaining the smoke. Soon the room became filled with blue
vapours, while the pipe started to crackle and the tobacco to fly out
in sparks. Presently, also, I began to feel a smarting in my mouth and
a giddiness in my head. Accordingly, I was on the point of stopping and
going to look at myself and my pipe in the mirror, when, to my surprise,
I found myself staggering about. The room was whirling round and
round, and as I peered into the mirror (which I reached only with some
difficulty) I perceived that my face was as white as a sheet. Hardly had
I thrown myself down upon a sofa when such nausea and faintness swept
over me that, making up my mind that the pipe had proved my death, I
expected every moment to expire. Terribly frightened, I tried to call
out for some one to come and help me, and to send for the doctor.
However, this panic of mine did not last long, for I soon understood
what the matter with me was, and remained lying on the sofa with a
racking headache and my limbs relaxed as I stared dully at the stamp on
the package of tobacco, the Pipe-tube coiled on the floor, and the odds
and ends of tobacco and confectioner’s tartlets which were littered
about. “Truly,” I thought to myself in my dejection and disillusionment,
“I cannot be quite grown-up if I cannot smoke as other fellows do, and
should be fated never to hold a chibouk between my first and second
fingers, or to inhale and puff smoke through a flaxen moustache!”
When Dimitri called for me at five o’clock, he found me in this
unpleasant predicament. After drinking a glass of water, however, I felt
nearly recovered, and ready to go with him.
“So much for your trying to smoke!” said he as he gazed at the remnants
of my debauch. “It is a silly thing to do, and waste of money as well. I
long ago promised myself never to smoke. But come along; we have to call
for Dubkoff.”