To the ----th Regiment, and to a fort stranded on the
frontier
of
the Kirghiz-Kaisak Steppes!
the Kirghiz-Kaisak Steppes!
Pushkin - Daughter of the Commandant
"
"'And not give him any liberty'--No; it seems that porcupine-skin gloves
means something quite different. ' Enclosed is his commission'--Where is
it then? Ah! here it is! --'in the roll of the Semenofsky Regiment'--All
right; everything necessary shall be done. 'Allow me to salute you
without ceremony, and like an old friend and comrade'--Ah! he has at
last remembered it all," etc. , etc.
"Well, my little father," said he, after he had finished the letter and
put my commission aside, "all shall be done; you shall be an officer in
the ----th Regiment, and you shall go to-morrow to Fort Belogorsk, where
you will serve under the orders of Commandant Mironoff, a brave and
worthy man. There you will really serve and learn discipline. There is
nothing for you to do at Orenburg; amusement is bad for a young man.
To-day I invite you to dine with me. "
"Worse and worse," thought I to myself. "What good has it done me to
have been a sergeant in the Guard from my cradle? Where has it brought
me?
To the ----th Regiment, and to a fort stranded on the frontier of
the Kirghiz-Kaisak Steppes! "
I dined at Andrej Karlovitch's, in the company of his old aide de camp.
Strict German economy was the rule at his table, and I think that the
dread of a frequent guest at his bachelor's table contributed not a
little to my being so promptly sent away to a distant garrison.
The next day I took leave of the General, and started for my
destination.
CHAPTER III.
THE LITTLE FORT.
The little fort of Belogorsk lay about forty versts[28] from Orenburg.
From this town the road followed along by the rugged banks of the R.
Yaik. The river was not yet frozen, and its lead-coloured waves looked
almost black contrasted with its banks white with snow. Before me
stretched the Kirghiz Steppes. I was lost in thought, and my reverie was
tinged with melancholy. Garrison life did not offer me much attraction.
I tried to imagine what my future chief, Commandant Mironoff, would be
like. I saw in my mind's eye a strict, morose old man, with no ideas
beyond the service, and prepared to put me under arrest for the smallest
trifle.
Twilight was coming on; we were driving rather quickly.
"'And not give him any liberty'--No; it seems that porcupine-skin gloves
means something quite different. ' Enclosed is his commission'--Where is
it then? Ah! here it is! --'in the roll of the Semenofsky Regiment'--All
right; everything necessary shall be done. 'Allow me to salute you
without ceremony, and like an old friend and comrade'--Ah! he has at
last remembered it all," etc. , etc.
"Well, my little father," said he, after he had finished the letter and
put my commission aside, "all shall be done; you shall be an officer in
the ----th Regiment, and you shall go to-morrow to Fort Belogorsk, where
you will serve under the orders of Commandant Mironoff, a brave and
worthy man. There you will really serve and learn discipline. There is
nothing for you to do at Orenburg; amusement is bad for a young man.
To-day I invite you to dine with me. "
"Worse and worse," thought I to myself. "What good has it done me to
have been a sergeant in the Guard from my cradle? Where has it brought
me?
To the ----th Regiment, and to a fort stranded on the frontier of
the Kirghiz-Kaisak Steppes! "
I dined at Andrej Karlovitch's, in the company of his old aide de camp.
Strict German economy was the rule at his table, and I think that the
dread of a frequent guest at his bachelor's table contributed not a
little to my being so promptly sent away to a distant garrison.
The next day I took leave of the General, and started for my
destination.
CHAPTER III.
THE LITTLE FORT.
The little fort of Belogorsk lay about forty versts[28] from Orenburg.
From this town the road followed along by the rugged banks of the R.
Yaik. The river was not yet frozen, and its lead-coloured waves looked
almost black contrasted with its banks white with snow. Before me
stretched the Kirghiz Steppes. I was lost in thought, and my reverie was
tinged with melancholy. Garrison life did not offer me much attraction.
I tried to imagine what my future chief, Commandant Mironoff, would be
like. I saw in my mind's eye a strict, morose old man, with no ideas
beyond the service, and prepared to put me under arrest for the smallest
trifle.
Twilight was coming on; we were driving rather quickly.
