Page:The Prose Tales of Alexander Poushkin (Bell, 1916).djvu/457

 that it is almost on the point of breaking in two; their petticoats are distended with hoops, so that they have to enter a carriage sideways; to go through a door they are obhged to stoop down; they can neither stand, nor sit, nor breathe — real martyrs, the poor doves!" "Oh, little mother Tatiana Afanassievna!" said Kirila Petrovitch T——, a former governor of Riazan, where he acquired three thousand serfs and a young wife, both by somewhat dishonourable means, "as far as I am concerned, my wife may dress as she pleases, and wear what she likes, provided that she does not order new dresses every month and throw away the former ones that are nearly new. In former times the grandmother's sarafan formed part of the granddaughter's dowry, but nowadays all that is changed: the dress, that the mistress wears to-day, you will see the servant wearing to-morrow. What is to be done? It is the ruin of the Russian nobility, alas!" At these words he sighed and looked at his Maria Ilienishna, who did not seem at all to like either his praises of the past or his disparagement of the latest customs. The other young ladies shared her displeasure, but they remained silent, for modesty was then considered an indispensable attribute in young women.

"And who is to blame?" said Gavril Afanassievitch, filling a tankard with an effervescing beverage. "Isn't it our own fault? The young women play the fool, and we encourage them."

"But what can we do, when our wishes are not consulted?" replied Kirila Petrovitch. " One would be glad to shut his wife up in an attic, but with beating of drums she is summoned to appear at the assemblies. The husband goes after the whip, but the wife after dress. Oh, those assemblies! The Lord has sent them upon us as a punishment for our sins."