Chapter 39

THE STUDENTS' FEAST

NOTWITHSTANDING that, as yet, Dimitri's influence had kept me
from indulging in those customary students' festivities known as
kutezhi or "wines," that winter saw me participate in such a
function, and carry away with me a not over-pleasant impression
of it. This is how it came about.

At a lecture soon after the New Year, Baron Z.--a tall, light-
haired young fellow of very serious demeanour and regular
features--invited us all to spend a sociable evening with him. By
"us all", I mean all the men more or less "comme il faut", of our
course, and exclusive of Grap, Semenoff, Operoff, and commoners
of that sort. Woloda smiled contemptuously when he heard that I
was going to a "wine" of first course men, but I looked to derive
great and unusual pleasure from this, to me, novel method of
passing the time. Accordingly, punctually at the appointed hour
of eight I presented myself at the Baron's.

Our host, in an open tunic and white waistcoat, received his
guests in the brilliantly lighted salon and drawing-room of the
small mansion where his parents lived--they having given up their
reception rooms to him for the evening for purposes of this
party. In the corridor could be seen the heads and skirts of
inquisitive domestics, while in the dining-room I caught a
glimpse of a dress which I imagined to belong to the Baroness
herself. The guests numbered a score, and were all of them
students except Herr Frost (in attendance upon Iwin) and a tall,
red-faced gentleman who was superintending the feast and who was
introduced to every one as a relative of the Baron's and a former
student of the University of Dorpat. At first, the excessive
brilliancy and formal appointments of the reception-rooms had
such a chilling effect upon this youthful company that every one
involuntarily hugged the walls, except a few bolder spirits and
the ex-Dorpat student, who, with his waistcoat already
unbuttoned, seemed to be in every room, and in every corner of
every room, at once, and filled the whole place with his
resonant, agreeable, never-ceasing tenor voice. The remainder of
the guests preferred either to remain silent or to talk in
discreet tones of professors, faculties, examinations, and other
serious and interesting matters. Yet every one, without
exception, kept watching the door of the dining-room, and, while
trying to conceal the fact, wearing an expression which said:
"Come! It is time to begin." I too felt that it was time to
begin, and awaited the beginning with pleasurable impatience.

After footmen had handed round tea among the guests, the Dorpat
student asked Frost in Russian:

"Can you make punch,