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44
SÖNYA KOVALÉVSKY
an exemplary English miss, and the composition of
verses did not in least enter into this opinion.
Therefore she severely persecuted all my poetical attempts.
If, to my misfortune, there fell under her eye a scrap
of paper scribbled over with my rhymes, she
immediately pinned it to my shoulder, and then, in the
presence of my brother or sister, declaimed my unlucky
composition, distorting and mangling it horribly, as
a matter of course.
But this persecution of my verses did no good. At
the age of twelve I was profoundly convinced that
I was destined to become a poet. Out of fear of my
governess, I decided not to write down my verses,
but I composed them in my head, like the ancient
bards, and confided them to my ball. As I ran
through the hall, chasing it before me, I declaimed
aloud my poetical productions, among which I took
pride in " The Bedouin’s Address to his Horse," and
"The Sensations of the Fisherman as he Dives for
Pearls." I composed in my head a long poem
entitled, " The Fountain Jet," something half way
between " Undine " and " Mtzyri"; but for the present
only ten strophes were ready. I planned to have one
hundred and twenty.
But the muse is capricious, as every one knows,
and poetical inspiration did not always descend upon
me at the exact moment when I was ordered to play
with my ball. If the muse did not appear at my call,
my situation became dangerous, for temptation
surrounded me on all sides. The library adjoined the
hall, and beguiling little volumes of foreign novels, or
numbers of Russian magazines, were there strewn
about on all the tables and divans. I was strictly
forbidden to touch them, because the governess was
very particular about the reading which I was al-
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