ible faces.)

* * * * *

Barbara Nedotyopin.

* * * * *

Z., an engineer or doctor, went on a visit to his uncle, an editor;
he became interested, began to go there frequently; then became a
contributor to the paper, little by little gave up his profession; one
night he came out of the newspaper office, remembered, and seized his
head in his hands--"all is lost!" He began to go gray. Then it became
a habit, he was quite white now and flabby, an editor, respectable but
obscure.

* * * * *

A Privy Councillor, an old man, looking at his children, became a
radical himself.

* * * * *

A newspaper: "Cracknel."

* * * * *

The clown in the circus--that is talent, and the waiter in the frock
coat speaking to him--that is the crowd; the waiter with an ironical
smile on his face.

* * * * *

Auntie from Novozybkov.

* * * * *

He has a rarefaction of the brain and his brains have leaked into his
ears.

* * * * *

"What? Writers? If you like, for a shilling I'll make a writer of
you."

* * * * *

Instead of translator, contractor.

* * * * *

An actress, forty years old, ugly, ate a partridge for dinner, and I
felt sorry for the partridge, for it occurred to me that in its life
it had been more talented, more sensible, and more honest than that
actress.

* * * * *

The doctor said to me: "If," says he, "your constitution holds out,
drink to your heart's content." (Gorbunov.)

* * * * *

Carl Kremertartarlau.

* * * * *

A field with a distant view, one tiny birch tree. The inscription
under the picture: loneliness.

* * * * *

The guests had gone: they had played cards and everything was in
disorder: tobacco smoke, scraps of paper, and chiefly--the dawn and
memories.

* * * * *

Better to perish from fools than to accept praises from them.

* * * * *

Why do trees grow and so luxuriantly, when the owners are dead?

* * * * *

The character keeps a library, but he