Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1871-08-31
lasses who come tripping by with their

lace policemen dotted with brass but
tons, looking on with an air of fatherly
superiosity. Bat it is beside the mex
ETY. pump in front of the village . shop
of all sorts that the great assembly is
held There fathers discuss things III
general, with their mouths full OF black
bread and sailed cucumber; there
mothers compare notes on family mat
tiers, or drive hard bargains among
themselves and there children Of every
age amuse themselves with the national
sports of rolling in the gutter and
throwing dirt in each others eyes, var
led by an occasional bout at knuckle-
bones, by way Of variety.
But in winter sad change comes
over Merry BogorOdskoe. Instead OF
the charming little village, full of
/ life and enjoyment, you see nothing
but cluster OF silent huts, half bur
led in snow, peering above the great
white desert that extends on every side.
! All around, the bare, desolate fields
I stretch their ghostly wastes to the hor-
lion, while here and there solitary
raven, disturbed by your approach, flaps
heavily away with a dismal scream, like
some belated spectre returning TO It's
grave The few peasants who still Ing
er about, mufied in their thick sheep
skin frocks, survey you with an ar Of
disdainful establishment, as If wonder
ing what business YOU have here at all;
/ the leahess trees stand up gaunt and
grim against the cold, grey sky, Ike
an army of skeletons and over all
7 l.. L Il, l,-G ell
broken only by the distant barking of
a dog, or the moan of the wind through
the distant forest. And worse still, if
you happen to stroll beyond the village
after dark, you will see pale spots of
light, like the flame of a half-quenched
coal, fitting among the trees-and hear
a long melancholy howl, like the vail
of the wind on q gusty winter night,
going drearilv up through the frosty
air-and suddenly find yourself face to
face with n huge, gaunt, grey wolf, as
savage and bloodthirsty as hunger can
make him.
Well, If was on a bitter January eve
ming, the winter before last, that SIX
men were assembled in one Of the huts
which | have described. 1t was room
of the common sort, big bed, with II
patchwork coverlet, filling up one side,
the usual huge chest in one corner, a
picture of the Emperor on one wall, a
picture of the bombnrdment of Seyas-
topol ON the other, and the portrait
Of "A saint as usual beside the stove, sew
eral clumsy wooden chairs, and low
table, on which stood n "samovar or
Russian tea-urn, with teapot perched
on the top Of it, while around 1t stood
half a-dOzen tumblers, full or empty !;
for in Russia, You know, it'sthe way to
drink tea out Of tumblers instead of
cups, ii fashion which burns ones
fingers shockingly, If it does nothing
else.
Beside the tea-urn stood a small lamp
(gurgIng and sputtcring us if it had
bad cold which threw pale circle of
light upon the heavy crossbeams of the
roof and the dark sallow, bearded faces
Of the company. They made a very
striking group under the dim lamphght,
these six men, and all the more SO from
the strange manner in which they were
behaving In an ordinary party of Rus
sian peasants you would have heard
ceascless talking and laughing, bois-
ferrous Jokes, stories OF NelghbOr Tins
aud Neighhor That, snatchos of old
song sung IN this very place by the
same kind of men in the days Of Peter
the Great, and possibly, if the story
teller OF the village happened to be Of
the party, an old legend or two, hand
ed down from generation 10 generation
since Russia first became a people
how lha Murometz fought with the
Nightingale Brigand, and how AieXey
ropoyitrh slew the Flying Tartar But
these men were silent and thoughtful,
DO jokes, no stories. no laughter, every
face c,oudcd with anxiety, every eve
fixed muodily ON tue ground.
And what was il, then, which made
them So gloomy Let MS listen to their
talk, ana perhaps we may find out.
d" l. Is sore Judgment ON us - SAID
one who seemed e. be the host--a big,
hurly mau, witha tangled yellow heard.
- The like has not been seen since the
wear 1861, when tie wolves came right
into the village and killed nine of our
dogs IN one night, But then there were
many wolves, while now it is only one
that does All tie mischief; and yet We,
as many ao We are, can do nothing
against him -
Aud how the mischief can we do
anything, cried a second, against a
brute that scurries about as if he had
wings . pouucc he comes into the vii
lage, gohhles up the first thing that
comes to hand, and on again and you
may Try to recolect his umc," Crhis
is the popular phrase for utter disap-
pcarauce.l
well we must do something to
stop it, said the third, agrim old fell