A SPORTSMAN'S SKETCHES
'No, not to say a great many.'
'How many, then?'
'I dare say it runs up to about a hundred and fifty.'
We were both silent for a little.
'I suppose you write a good hand, eh?' I began again.
The young man grinned from ear to ear, went into the office and brought in a sheet covered with writing.
'This is my writing,' he announced, still with the same smile on his face.
I looked at it; on the square sheet of greyish paper there was written, in a good bold hand, the following document:—
'ORDER
'From the Chief Office of the Manor of Ananyevo to
the Agent, Mihal Vikulov.
'Whereas some person unknown entered the garden at Ananyevo last night in an intoxicated condition, and with unseemly songs waked the French governess, Madame Engêne, and disturbed her; and whether the watchmen saw anything, and who were on watch in the garden and permitted such disorderliness: as regards all the above-written matters, your orders are to investigate in detail, and report immediately to the Office.
A huge heraldic seal was attached to the order, with the inscription: 'Seal of the chief office of the
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