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Updated: May 29, 2025
In the evening, when the friend was preparing to go home, as he was saying good-by to my father, he held his hand in his and began once more: "Still, I must tell you, Lyoff Nikolaievich, that I and my wife have been thinking it over, and we have come to the conclusion," and so on, word for word the same.
To insure the propagation of my ideas by taking all sorts of measures why, no word can perish without leaving its trace, if it expresses a truth, and if the man who utters it believes profoundly in its truth. But all these outward means for insuring it only come of our disbelief in what we utter." And with these words Lyoff Nikolaievich left the study. Thereupon Mr.
I think one need know very little of his convictions to have no doubt about it. Was Lyoff Nikolaievich Tolstoy likely of his own accord to have recourse to the protection of the law? And, if he did, was he likely to conceal it from his wife and children? He had been put into a position from which there was absolutely no way out.
The business in question, as was made clear in the preliminary consultation which V. G. Tchertkof held with N. K. Muravyof, the solicitor, consisted in getting fresh signatures from Lyoff Nikolaievich, whose great age made it desirable to make sure, without delay, of his wishes being carried out by means of a more unassailable legal document.
When he addressed my father, he always said "Lef Nikolayevitch" instead of Lyoff Nikolaievich, like other people. He always stayed down-stairs in my father's study, and spent his whole day there reading or writing, with a thick cigarette, which he rolled himself, in his mouth. Strakhof and my father came together originally on a purely business footing.
"It is impossible that the dog shouldn't find it; he couldn't miss a bird that was killed." "I tell you I saw it with my own eyes, Lyoff Nikolaievich; it fell like a stone. I didn't wound it; I killed it outright. I can tell the difference." "Then why can't the dog find it? It's impossible; there's something wrong." "I don't know anything about that," insisted Turgenieff.
In conclusion I cannot refrain from quoting the opinion of one of my kinsmen, who, after my father's death, read the diaries kept both by my father and my mother during the autumn before Lyoff Nikolaievich left Yasnaya Polyana. "What a terrible misunderstanding!" he said.
A few days before he left Yasnaya he called on Marya Alexandrovna Schmidt at Ovsyanniki and confessed to her that he wanted to go away. The old lady held up her hands in horror and said: "Gracious Heavens, Lyoff Nikolaievich, have you come to such a pitch of weakness?"
In 1856 Turgenieff wrote to my father: Your letter took some time reaching me, dear Lyoff Nikolaievich. Let me begin by saying that I am very grateful to you for sending it to me.
"You can't have the dogs running all day on empty stomachs, Lyoff Nikolaievich," she grunted, going angrily to put on the dogs' collars. At last the dogs were got together, some of them on leashes, others running free; and we would ride out at a brisk trot past Bitter Wells and the grove into the open country.
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