you to be strange to our
ways--a cuckoo that has blundered into the wrong nest."

And, doffing his cap, a gesture which he never failed to execute when
he had something particularly important to say, he added humbly and
sonorously as he glanced at the grey firmament:

"In the sight of the Lord our ways are the ways of thieves, and such as
will never gain of Him salvation."

"And that is true enough," responded Mokei Budirin after the fashion of
a clarionet.

From that time forth, Ossip of the curly, silvered head, bright eyes,
and shadowy soul became an object of agreeable interest for me. Indeed,
there grew up between us a species of friendship, even though I could
see that a civil bearing towards me in public was a thing that it hurt
him to maintain. At all events, in the presence of others he avoided my
glance, and his eyes, clear, unsullied, and fight blue in tint, wavered
unsteadily, and his lips twitched and assumed an artificially
unpleasant expression, while he uttered some such speech as:

"Hi, you Makarei, see that you keep your eyes open, and cam your pay,
or that pig of a soldier will be making away with more nails!"

But at other times, when we were alone together, he would speak to me
kindly and instructively, while his eyes would dance and gleam with a
faint, grave, knowing smile, and dart blue rays direct into mine, while
for my part, as I listened to his words, I took every one of them to be
absolutely true and balanced, despite their strange delivery.

"A man's duty consists in being good," I remarked on one occasion.

"Yes, of course," assented Ossip, though the next moment he veiled his
eyes with a smile, and added in an undertone: "But what do you
understand by the term 'good'? In my opinion, unless virtue be to their
advantage, folk spit upon that 'goodness,' that 'honourableness,' of
yours. Hence, the better plan is to pay folk court, and be civil to
them, and flatter and cajole every mother's son of them. Yes, do that,
and your 'goodness' will have a chance of bringing you in some return.
Not that I do not say that to be 'good,' to be able to look your own
ugly jowl in the face in a mirror, is pleasant enough; but, as I see
the matter, it is all one to other people whether you be a cardsharper
or a priest so long as you're polite, and let down your neighbours
lightly. That's what they want."

For my part I never, at that period, grew weary of watching my fellows,
for it was my constant