April 27

I was mistaken; yesterday morning papa had left on the table, not my morning portion, but my food for the whole day. Papa receives on his citizen’s card, as a workingman, one pound and a quarter of bread, and also some sort of “armored ration”, half a pound for each working day. I have no card as yet, and from this extra half-pound father doles out to me a little piece for the entire day. He says that he cannot give any more. He himself eats at the factory dining room. For the time being I dine at Tonka’s, but she looks askance at me. Never before have we lived like this, dividing up every scrap. It must be because of this that we look as if we were ready to fly at one another’s throats.

Alexander gets half a pound of bread per day. He also has a dining-room card. In the evenings, separately from Tonka, we prepare our supper: herring, with potatoes and beets.

It turned out that the beets and the potatoes which I gave to Alexander yesterday were intended for supper. Papa asked me sternly: “Where are they?” And he said nothing more, but we went to bed without supper. Before going away this morning he put everything under lock and key.

Mitya promised to find me a place at the Post Office. I wish it would happen soon. … Papa reminds me every day that I came here not to loaf but to’ work, and to help him support the family.

Ah, how hard it all is when I remember that I ought to be studying now! I go to bed and cry. …