ally serf-flesh, is
heir to, come and slay their thousands, the exact converse obtains,
and he will be paying tax for a certain number, while he only reaps
the profit of a third. In the latter case were the landowners of
Nikolsk. Cholera had more than decimated the serfs; the impoverished
owners regarded their unreaped fields and untilled lands and
impoverished exchequers with a sigh--a sigh which deepened into a
shudder, when they reflected how soon the collector would arrive with
his inexorable demand for soul-tax. The landed interest is in no
country, we believe, celebrated for bearing reverses with dignified
composure; and the depressed condition of the serf-owning interest was
as much noised abroad in that district, as a certain professedly
depressed interest connected with the soil has been, and is, in
another country we know of much nearer home.

About a dozen miles from Nikolsk there dwelt a widow, Madame
Korobotchka by name, who lived on her late husband's estate, and had
suffered more than her neighbours by the prevalent serf mortality.
Late one evening, when a violent storm was raging without, a stranger,
who had been surprised in the storm, demanded the shelter of Madame
Korobotchka's chateau till the morning; and as hospitality is a sacred
duty in Russia, his demand was not only granted, but in a few minutes
the stranger was seated as her _vis-a-vis_ at the best repast her
impoverished condition could afford.

'You appear to have a nice property here, _matouchka_,' said the
stranger, by way of opening a conversation. 'How many peasants have
you?'

'Peasants, _batiouchka_! At present, about eighty; but these are awful
times. This year, we have had a frightful loss of them. Providence
have pity on us!'

'Nevertheless, your men look well enough, and----But, pardon me--allow
me to inquire to whom I am indebted for this hospitality? I am quite
confused--arrived so suddenly and so late--I'----

'My name is Korobotchka--my paternal name Nastasie Petrovna.'

'Nastasie Petrovna! Beautiful name.'

'And you, sir?' inquired Nastasie. And then added, palpitating with
terror: 'Are you--surely not--are you--an assessor?'

'O no!' was the reply. 'My name is Tchitchikof. I am no assessor; I
travel on purely private business.'

'I see: you have come to buy. How annoying! I've just sold all my
honey to those thieves of merchants.'

'It is of no consequence. I do not buy honey.'

'Indeed! hemp, then? Dear me, an