THE SWEET-SCENTED NAME
He had once been correspondent of a Volga newspaper. That was why he lost his last post; some one found out that he wrote malicious tit-bits for a radical paper, informed the Head of the rural council, who in turn informed the inspector of national schools. The inspector, of course, wouldn't stand it.
"We don't want such teachers," said the inspector to him in a personal interview.
And Moshkin asked:
"Then what sort do you want?"
But the inspector, avoiding an inconvenient question, replied drily:
"Good-bye, till we meet again. Hope to see you when we meet on that beautiful shore. …"
Moshkin also announced in his advertisement that he would like to be secretary, editor, sub-editor, or leader-writer of a newspaper, lesson-hearer for young children, tutor, pleasant companion to any one making a tour in the Crimea, handyman about a house, etc. He also declared that he had no objection to taking a post at a distance.
He waited. There arrived one post card. Strangely enough even that post card caused him to hope.
It was the morning. Moshkin was having
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