requent the church, and to pay visits to the city authorities. He
assures the chief of police of his respect, and, in order to give a
glaring proof of his devotion to the established institutions, he
lodges information against a school-mistress of the locality. But
still the nomination does not come, and he lives in a continual
trance. The evil in him increases. He torments beasts and human
beings. He whips his pupils, throws nettles at his cat, and
maltreats his cook. He believes himself more and more in the power
of the demon, and terrible visions follow him:

"He saw running before him, a little, grey, noisy beast. It sneered,
its head trembled, and it ran quickly around Peredonov. When he
wanted to seize it, it escaped under the cupboard, only to reappear
a moment later...."

This strange book, written with rare perfection, had a great
success. To several readers who thought that they recognized the
author himself in the person of Peredonov (Sologoub had had the same
position as his hero for several years) the author replied in the
preface of a recent edition, by these malicious lines:

"Men like to be loved. They adore noble and elevated descriptions
and portrayals. They even search among the scum for a 'divine
spark.' They also are surprised and offended when any one offers
them a veracious and sombre picture. And most of them then do not
fail to declare: 'The author has described himself in his work.'
But no, my dear friends and readers, it is you, and only you, whom I
have painted in my book, 'The Little Demon.'"

In "The Charms of Navii" Sologoub happily blends fantasy and
reality. Revolutionary meetings alternate with improbable hypnotic
seances, and terrible corteges of corpses contrast violently with
scenes of platonic and ethereal love.

The plot of the story, "The Old Home," is not less distressing than
the preceding one. A young revolutionary, condemned to death by
court-martial, has been executed, but for his dear ones this death
has never been a reality. His mother and sister, and even the old
servant, have not the strength to admit his disappearance. They wait
and wait for his return until their own death carries them off.

Another story, "The Crowd," shows us a "fair" at which pewter
goblets are being given away. These so excite the greediness of the
crowd that a fray results, in which three children are seriously
wounded. While dying, the unfortunates have terrible visions of life
and humanit