From the age of five, I was put into the arms of the aspiring Savelich, who was granted my uncle for sober behavior. Under his supervision, in the twelfth year, I learned to read and write Russian and could very sensibly judge the properties of a greyhound dog. At this time, my father hired a Frenchman for me, Monsieur Beaupre, who was discharged from Moscow along with a year's supply of wine and Provencal oil.
