XXIV

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XXIV

“Is she in love?” quoth one. “With whom?

Bouyànoff courted. She refused.

Pétòushkoff met the selfsame doom.

The hussar Pykhtin was accused.

How the young imp on Tania doted!

To captivate her how devoted!

I mused: perhaps the matter’s squared⁠—

O yes! my hopes soon disappeared.”

“But, mátushka, to Moscow you

Should go, the market for a maid,

With many a vacancy, ’tis said.”⁠—

“Alas! my friend, no revenue!”

“Enough to see one winter’s end;

If not, the money I will lend.”