I will tell you my adventures with a watch. It is a curious story.

It happened at the very beginning of this century, in 1801. I had just

reached my sixteenth year. I was living at Ryazan in a little wooden

house not far from the bank of the river Oka with my father, my aunt

and my cousin; my mother I do not remember; she died three years after

her marriage; my father had no other children. His name was Porfiry

Petrovitch. He was a quiet man, sickly and unattractive in appearance;

he was employed in some sort of legal and--other--business. In old

days such were called attorneys, sharpers, nettle-seeds; he called

himself a lawyer. Our domestic life was presided over by his sister,

my aunt, an old maiden lady of fifty; my father, too, had passed his

fourth decade. My aunt was very pious, or, to speak bluntly, she was a

canting hypocrite and a chattering magpie, who poked her nose into

everything; and, indeed, she had not a kind heart like my father. We

were not badly off, but had nothing to spare. My father had a brother

called Yegor; but he had been sent to Siberia in the year 1797 for

some "seditious acts and Jacobin tendencies" (those were the words of

the accusation).

Yegor's son David, my cousin, was left on my father's hands and lived

with us. He was only one year older than I; but I respected him and

obeyed him as though he were quite grown up. He was a sensible fellow

with character; in appearance, thick-set and broad-shouldered with a

square face covered with freckles, with red hair, small grey eyes,

thick lips, a short nose, and short fingers--a sturdy lad, in

fact--and strong for his age! My aunt could not endure him; my father

was positively afraid of him ... or perhaps he felt himself to blame

towards him. There was a rumour that, if my father had not given his

brother away, David's father would not have been sent to Siberia. We

were both at the high school and in the same class and both fairly

high up in it; I was, indeed, a little better at my lessons than

David. I had a good memory but boys--as we all know!--do not think

much of such superiority, and David remained my leader.

Knock, Knock, Knock and Other Stories · 第 68 / 101 题