There is
nothing for you to do at Orenburg; amusement is bad for a young man.
nothing for you to do at Orenburg; amusement is bad for a young man.
Pushkin - Daughter of the Commandant
"What does it mean, 'hold with gloves of porcupine-skin? '" resumed he,
turning to me.
"It means," I answered him, with the most innocent face in the world,
"to treat someone kindly, not too strictly, to leave him plenty of
liberty; that is what holding with gloves of porcupine-skin means. "
"Humph! I understand. "
"'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.
