Tell me your name and as much of your affairs as you please to enlighten me with.

I am bound to assist you as far as possible--though my debt to you will ever remain uncanceled.

I am Daniel Daniels, of Odessa, Marseilles, and elsewhere, and an introduction to my correspondent nearest where you sojourn is not to be despised." Impressed with his tone, the young man related his life-story succinctly.
He had a dreamy remembrance of a long journey, lastly in a sledge, buried in fur robes, his clearer later memories were of a happy home in Poland, in the country, where, though strangers, all were kind to the lonely orphan.

There was a mystery about his parentage; his mother was probably a native as he acquired the language as easily as the art of eating, the peasants said.

His father had been killed, he thought, on one of those riots which, in a small way, repeat the olden revolutions of Poland against the triumvirate of oppression, Austria, Prussia and Russia.