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Prechistenka St., the Dame Chertova Institute, now the Department of Visual Arts.

I swear on the river Styx that had I lived a hundred and fifty years ago, I would definitely have been made a Dame of the Saint Catherine Order!1 (I'm here to get a pass to Tambov guberniya "to study handmade embroidery," that is, to get wheat. Free passage — transport — of 1 1/2 poods.)2

*

The road to Usman Station, Tambov guberniya.

Boarding in Moscow. At the last minute — as though hell had opened wide: a clanking and whistling. I: "What's that?" A man, gruffly: "Quiet! Quiet! It's plain you haven't traveled!" A woman: "Lord, have mercy on us!" Terror, as if faced with oprichniks, the whole car—quiet as the grave. And, indeed, despite our tickets and permissions, we are all thrown out a minute later. It turned out that Red Army soldiers needed it.

At the last second, N., his friend, his mother-in-law and I end up back on the train nonetheless, thanks to my pass.

*

I begin to realize, tragically, that we are traveling to a requisition center ... almost in the role of requisitioners. The mother-in-law has a son — a Red Army soldier in the requisition detachment. They promise all kinds of good fortune (up to and including pork lard). They threaten all kinds of misfortune (up to and including murder). The peasants are hostile and they sometimes set the trains on fire. The mother-in-law comforts us:

"I've already been there three times, and God was merciful. Poods of white flour. The peasants are furious —well, of course. Everyone takes care of his own. After all, they're robbing them blind. I already told my Kolka, I said to him: You should fear God! You're not from a noble family, but still, you had enough, you had respect. How can you just leave someone with nothing? Well, you've seized this grand power—there's no denying it —so use it, rule to your heart's content! You were born under a lucky star. Because you see, Miss, each of us has our own fate. Oh, so you're not a Miss after all? Well, there go my plans! I'm also in the matchmaking business. What a groom I could have found you! Where's your husband? No news? And two children? That's bad, bad!

"So I tell my son: Take it at half-price, that way you won't be upset and he won't be resentful. Otherwise, what is this? It's just highway robbery. Ree-ally! You follow me, Miss? (why do I keep saying 'Miss' — you're in worse shape than a widow! Neither husband's wife, nor friend's life . . .) so, you follow me, ma'am: he's a young fellow, in his prime, when else can you have your fun, if not when you're young? He can't get it through his head that if you pick the bush clean, your plate will be lean. You have to use common sense when you milk a cow — squeeze, but don't squeeze dry. That's right.

"And the way they treat me at the center—I swear you'd think I was some Dowager Empress! One bows, the other scrapes. My Kolka gets on well with the head of the detachment—they're classmates, both from the same high school, they finished fourth year, they did. Then Kolka went to work in an office, and the other one just went to town. Pals, they are. And then this change up and happened, he came up from the bottom, the bubble went straight to the top. And he got my Kolka to work with him. Sugar! Lard! Eggs! They're all but swimming in milk! It's my fourth trip."

*

"Vol'nyi proezd" was first published in the Paris journal Sovremennye Zapiski 21 (1924).

1: Dame of the St. Catherine Order. An honorary society for noblewomen founded

by Catherine the Great.

2: Free passage — transport—of 1 1/2 poods. One pood equals 36.11 pounds.