The Emporia news. [volume] (Emporia, Kan.) 1859-1881, 1877-05-25

harvest, besides which animals
always dislike hay that a man
has lain upon, and a mercantile
crop is too precious to have any
thing subtracted from it's value.
So Nikita did not feel comfor-
table about his roubles. The two
sons and the daughter who lived
with him had a whole hive of
children. 1t was probable, he
thought, that some OF them might
one day come upon his hiding
place, and then small copper coins
would disappear, and after that
some of the silver and by-and-by
he might come to look for it and
find it gone.
The old man at last resolved to
make one more journey to the
nearest city. He borrowed the
cart and horse of his oldest son,
put on his Sunday sheepskin, was
absent all one night, and the next
day returned home again, in gay
spirits, and a little tipsy, with his
hand pressed tight across his
chest, in attitude unusual with him
before.
The children looked at him
with all their eyes.
All, yes, my little chicks, he
cried, my twenty-five roubles have
all turned into a bit of paper! a
beautiful bit of lilac paper, sewed
up in a little parcel. Granddaddy
means to sleep with it every night,
look you! and you know he always
sleeps with one eye open. All, ali,
you young rouges, it is all safe 4!
No more picking and stealing!
The little ones, who very prob
ably had found out his old rag,
and many filched an occasion cop
per from his store, did not appear
to share in his extreme hilarity,
whereupon he kicked several of
them, pulled the two youngest by
the ears and lay down upon the
stove to sleep off both his liquor
and his excitement on the occa-
sion.
From that time forth the old
man never did a stroke Of work,
but sat basking in the sunshine,
while everybody round him toll
ed from morning till night.
It is my turn now he said, with
a malicious grin of triumph.
Then he carefully took out his
precious bank note, his eyes glis-
tening with excitement as he I'm
did the precious folds. There it
lay. It was still lilac-still his
bank note. It was worth twenty
five silver rOubles still.
Nikita smoothed it lovingly.
He held it up to the sun, looked
at the light through it, marked
out the outline of the water-ma rk
(the double-headed eagle with
his finger, and then, and moved
to physical complacency by the
warmth of the spring day, he
went on to whisper to it loving
words, patting it and blessing it as
if it were a child.
A shadow came between him
and the sun. Nikita raised his
head with a start of conformation,
but when his angry eyes rested
on the intruder, their expression
became less fierce. He pulled off
his cap, and rose to greet his pas
tor.
Are you not ashamed, Nikita,
said the priest, to be so fond of
money? Your children are work
ing themselves to death for want
of a second horse, and there you
have, sewed up in bag, much
more than enough to buy one.
My sons have got work for their
own horse, parson, replied Nikita,
and it is only right they should.
1 worked in my fine and nobody
gave me horse. Besides a horse
may die, and then what becomes
of my money?
Well you might lay it out in
something else. replied the pas
tor.
Father Jakim was an excellent
man, rather given to speculative
Investigations and discoveries,
He was very fond of making his
parishioners talk, to find out, as
he said, what men had hidden in
their souls.
You never gave taper to the
Holy Virgin, nor to your patron
saint, he said. Do you expect
them at the day of Judgment to
make intercession for you.
Plenty of time to provide for
that, replied Nikita.
Time! cried the priest what do
you mean by time, hoary sinner?
You are on the verge of the grave!
No, not so bad as that, good
father. am perfectly well at
present, said Nikita.
Old man, how old are you?
/ don't know, your reverence.
How old were you in 1912?
About thirty.
Well, then you must be hard
upon seventy years old, and you
talk about having plenty of time
before you! Repent of your sins
now, while God is pleased to spare
you.
All right. I will repent, father.
And about those tapers.?
All right too. I'll attend to
them. Please give me your bless
ing, father.
He knew the good priests bless
ing would cost nothing, otherwise
the old rascal would have dispen-
sed with the benediction. The
pastor gave it him, however, and
went away, amused by this peep
at the queer weakness of human
nature.
A fortnight after (Nikita had
done nothing about the tapers)
his sons horse justified the oppin-
ion he had expressed concerning
horsefesh as an investment, for it
died, as it had lived, in the cart,
engaged in in its daily labor.
This was q great misfortune to
the whole family. A horse is as
important as the shirt on his back
to the Russian serf. The fields of
Russia lie fallow three years out of
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