er ceased to talk about his despotic manners, his furious temper,
his senseless prodigality, and his insatiable avarice. He was very
tall and stout, his complexion was swarthy, and he wore no beard. He
lisped, and he generally seemed half asleep. But the more quietly he
spoke, the more did all around him tremble. He had found a wife not
unlike himself. She had a round face, a yellow complexion, prominent
eyes, and the nose of a hawk. A gypsy by descent, passionate and
vindictive in temper, she refused to yield in any thing to her
husband, who all but brought her to her grave, and whom, although she
had been eternally squabbling with him, she could net bear long to
survive.

Andrei's son, Peter, our Fedor's grandfather, did not take after his
father. He was a simple country gentleman; rather odd, noisy in voice
and slow in action, rough but not malicious, hospitable, and devoted
to coursing. He was more than thirty years old when he inherited from
his father two thousand souls,[A] all in excellent condition; but he
soon began to squander his property, a part of which he disposed of by
sale, and he spoilt his household. His large, warm, and dirty rooms
were full of people of small degree, known and unknown, who swarmed in
from all sides like cockroaches. All these visitors gorged themselves
with whatever came in their way, drank their fill to intoxication, and
carried off what they could, extolling and glorifying their affable
host. As for their host, when he was out of humor with them, he called
them scamps and parasites; but when deprived of their company, he soon
found himself bored.

[Footnote A: Male serfs.]

The wife of Peter Andreich was a quiet creature whom he had taken from
a neighboring family in acquiescence with his father's choice and
command. Her name was Anna Pavlovna. She never interfered in any
thing, received her guests cordially, and went out into society
herself with pleasure--although "it was death" to her, to use her own
phrase, to have to powder herself. "They put a felt cap on your head,"
she used to say in her old age; "they combed all your hair straight up
on end, they smeared it with grease, they strewed it with flour, they
stuck it full of iron pins; you couldn't wash it away afterwards. But
to pay a visit without powdering was impossible. People would have
taken offence. What a torment it was!" She liked to drive fast, and
was ready to play at cards from morning until evening. When her
hu