The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1871-07-27
THE PEASANT HERO.
BY D. KERR.


heard of there. The whole place is sim
ply one of those quaint little clusters of
rough -hewn log huls, clinging like limpets
TO either side OF the high road, which are
nowhere seen to such perfection as in Swe-
den or Russia. Some few Of the houses
are of grander sort-actually two stories
high, with brightly painted roofs and
Wh!tewaShed balconies in front, that make
them loo2 as if they had white ties on.
These are the swell mansions" of the
place, and look down upon the poor little
shanties around them as footman looks
at a beggar; but, for the most part, our
village is made up of little cabins of the
regular Russian type, built with no tool
bat short aXe-one-storled, thatched with
straw, containing two or at most three
rooms, and topped by the cooked hat
"Tckerdak 2" or garret in which the Rus
sian peasant slows his hay, piles his wood,
stores his provisions, dries his clean linen
when ne has any, and, i'll word, bestows
everything that he cannot cram into the
little kennel below stairs, wheIe he, bis
wife, his children, and very often likewise
his OK and his ass, his pig and his poultry,
and everything that Is his, eat, drink, sleep
and veg tate. The beams of Mr.. 1van's
house lit into each other at the ends like
the corners of slate. frame, and his door
is fastened by strong wooden pegs; beside
his big stove hangs the rudely dauDed PIC
ture Of some Russian saint, with candle
burning in front of it, aud in the corner of
the room stands huge soOndOok or
wooden chest, painted red, and clamped
with iron bands This chest is the peas
ant greatest pride; he keeps his sunday
clothes in it-he and his friends sit upon
IL like S IA; and whenever he chan ges
from place to place, he always dIags lnis
great heavy sentry box OF thing along
with him.
But doubt whether any of you would
like To live in a Russian cottage The roof
is just g MKT re of saplings and spiders;
the walls a mish-mash OF wood, earth and
earwig>; the floor paste of straw and
clay, Gotted with black beetles, like the
plums in Christmas puddingl
The hut lived III had only just been
built SO that had nothing 10 disturb me
worse than regiment Of black ants
marchi < every now and then out of the
cracks N window sill, or swarm of mos
qutoes coming ping pinging" through
my open window And, what's more, |
had little round table fixed in the ground
in Fl lont of the cottage, and low bench
put beside it, ana there | used to have my
breakfast and tea in the open air and
can tell you that when | was sitting there
about seven O'clock on glorious summer
morning, fresh from my early walk, with
my cGZy little tea urn steaming in front OF
me, fresh roll on one side, couple of
new laid eggs on the other, and the soft,
dreamy, sunny uplands stretching before
me for miles, edged here and there with
dark patches OF of for st-like fur trim
mings upon q velvet robe-I was Is happy
as could he. One may be comfortable IN
Russia as well asa where else; and when
YOU come To travel there, you soon find
out that its not the cold, dark prison, full
of spies, wOiv s snd frost bites that we
used To iluag n it; that there are other
things to cal there beside soap and candies,
and other hings TO do beside sitting all
day close To a Stove with a wooden com
tor,er round your neck.
While the heat of the day lasts you don't
see much of our villagers. Here and there
you may fall in with stray one creeping
along the highway, or struggling ab Iut the
fields; but, as a rule, the bulk of the pop
ulation lout show up till to wards evening
Then, as ii by magic, the whole place sud
denly becomes alive with all kinds of queer
figures; bearded laborers in greasy red
shirts, with baggy tro"sers stuffed into
IHSAi iilS III botbS SiiJu lhS
gy as bears, and brown as hazel nuts, with
nothing on but pancake colored night
gown well lined with dirt; short skiGted
women, with scarlet handkercniefs uad
their heads, ard round, fiat, vice
muuthed faces that lock like a penny
with a hole in it; men with black
hair, and an edrthy, unwashed look
about them, Cgling the brown checked,
bare footed lasses wno come tripling by
With their pals Of spring water; and spruce
village policemen dotted with brass but
tons, looking on with an air of tutherly
superiority But it is beside the ritkety
pump in front Of She village "shOp OF all
sorts that the great assembly is held
There fathers discuss things in general
with their mouths full of black bread and
silted cucumber; there mothers compare
notes on family matters or drive hard bar
gains among themselves; and there chill
dren Of every age amuse themselves with
the national sports of rolling i'll the gutter
and throwing dirt IN each Others eyes.
varied by an occasi nal bout at knuckled
bones, by way OF variety.
BuL in winter sad change comes over
BogorodSkoe. Instead OF the charming
iittle village, full of life and enjoyment,
you see nothing but cluster of silent
huts, halt buried III snow, peering above
the great white desert that extend on
every side. All around. the bare, deSolate
fields stretch the ghOsuy wastes 10 the
horizon, while here and there a solitary
raven, dlstui bed by your approach, flaps
heavily away with a dismal scream, like
some belated spectre returning to its grave.
The few PEASANTS who still Hnger about
mutti d in their thick sheepskin frocks,
survey you with an air of disdainful a.
tonishmeut, as il wondering vi hat business
you have here at all tho leatiess trees stand
up gauut and grim against the cold, grey
sky, like an army of skeletons; and over
all broods dead, dreary, ghostly silence,
broken only by the distant barking of a
dog, or the maan of the wind through the
distant forest And, worse still, If YOU
hsppen to stroll beyond the village after
dark, You viii see pale spots of light, like
the flame OF halt quenched coal, fitting
aaiong the trees-and hear long, melan-
choy howl, ike tie wall OF the wind oil
a gU-ty winter hight going drearily up
through Che si!l, frosty air-snd suddenly
lind yourself lace 10 face with huge
saunt, grey wolf, as savage and blood
thirsty a. hunger can make him.
" ell, 1t was on bitter January even
iug, the winter before last, that six men
were assembled in enc Of the huts which
/ have described. 1t was room of the
common SOFIA Big bed, with a patch
work coverlet, filling up one side, the
usual huge chest in one corner q pictuie
OF the Emperor on one wall, picture OF
the bomcardment of SevastOpol on the
other, and the portrait of a saint as usual
beside the stove, several clumsy wooden
ckairS, snd q low table. on which stood /,
samovar," Or Russian tea-urn, with a tes
pot perchei on the top of it, while around
1t Stood hall a dozen tumblers, full or
empty; for IL Russia, you know, it's the
way IN drlna tea out of tunI6,i,.s instead
OF cups,-a fashion which burns ones
fingers shockingly, if il does nothing else
Beside TIE tea-uTn stood small lamp
(gurgliDg and sputtering as il it had a bad
Col0), which threw pale circle of light
upon the heavy cross beams of the roof,
and the dark, sallow, bearded faces of the
company. They male a very striking
group under the dim lsmplight, these six
men, and all the more SO from the strange
manner in which they were behaving. In
an ordinary party of Russian peasants
/ YOU would have h ard ,,easeless islk and