spoke Russian correctly, and French with a bad pronunciation, and enjoyed, particularly among ladies, the reputation of being a very learned gentleman; in the second, he wore red moustaches, a large ruby pin in a black satin cravat, the ends of which were tucked under his suspenders, and light blue pantaloons with changing hues and with foot-straps; in the third, he was young, had a beautiful, self-satisfied expression, and unusually well-developed, muscular legs. It was evident he very much treasured this advantage; he regarded the effect as irresistible on persons of the feminine sex and, no doubt for this reason, tried to place his legs in a most noticeable position, and, whether he was standing or sitting, continually moved his thighs. It was the type of a young Russian German, who wished to be a beau and a Lovelace.
We had a merry time in the garden. The game of robbers went on as nicely as possible; but an incident came very near putting a stop to it. Serézha was the robber. In running after the travellers, he tripped, and in full career struck his knee against a tree with such force that I thought he would break to splinters. Although I was the rural police, and my duty consisted in catching him, I went up to him sympathetically, and asked him whether he had hurt himself very painfully. Serézha was furious, he clenched his fists, stamped his feet, and, in a voice which showed conclusively that he had hurt himself very much, cried out to me:
"What is that? After this, there is no game! Well, why do you not catch me, why do you not catch me?" he repeated several times, looking away at Volódya and the elder Ívin, who represented the travellers and leaped up and down the path; then he suddenly shouted and with loud laughter rushed forward to catch them.
I can't tell how that heroic act struck and captivated me. In spite of his terrible pain, he not only did not
