St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1884-04-12


brigadier"
Chow brigadierl' exclaimed I.
The garments of this brigadier were almost
more pitiable than those of the sub deacon.
SIT is as I have the honor to tell you. He
possessed a very good property, and now it
is by favor that he gets corner in an isba
and be lives ON what God sends him. But
what are we to do? They have taken the
best places. We must disturb these amiable
visitors!"
''No, Narkiz, leave them alone, do not dis
turb them. We viii take another place I
wish to make the brigadier's acquaintance"
Gas you please: but as to making acquaint-
ance, you must not hope, sir, to get much
pleasure from it. He has become very weak
Of comprehension, and az stupid in CONVEX
sation as little child. In fact he is near
his eightieth year.
'Whats his name?'
''Vasili Fomitch; family name, Gousskof."
"And the sub-deacon?"
1.-THE sub-deacon! He is called Cucumber
Everybody calls him so, and as to his
true name, God alone can know. A good for
nothing, tell you-a regular vagabond."
''They live together?"
''No, but the devil, as they say have joined
them by a cord"
Y.
We approached the bank. The brigadier
raised his eyes to us for an instant, and i'm
mediately returned them to his float. Gu
cumber leaped from his place, pulled his
line with one hand and with the other drew
off his greasy cap. After having passed his
trembling fingers over his rough, yellow
hair, he made US a profound bow,
giving out a little constrained laugh. The
puffiness of his face betokened a regular
drunkard, and his little eyes winked with
timid humility. He gave his neighbor
nudge, as if to remind him that it was time
to be off. The brigadier began to fidget on
his seat.
''stay, I beg you," cried I, ''you are not
in our way. We will take this place. Stay"
Cucumber pulled up the flap Of his worn
oyercoat, shrugged his shoulders, and shook
his beard. Our presence visibly troubled
him. He would have preferred to go away.
But the brigadier was reabsorbed in the con-
temptation of his float. The ex-sub-deacon
coughed in his hand drew his naked feet
under him, covered his knees with his cap,
and modestly replaced his line in the water.
''Do they rise!n gravely asked Narkiz.
''We have caught five little tench," ans
wered Cucumber in a hoarse and broken
voice, "and His Grace has taken large
perch"
eyes, perch" said the brigadier in a
shrill voice.
VI.
I set myself to cons ider attentiyely, not
himself, but his image reflected in the water.
1t was presented to me as in q mirror, more
sombre, and at the same time more silYery,
The vast surface Of the pool breathed cool
ness to US, Whice came also from the humid
earth Of the bank, all cracked and as it were
ploughed by the melting of the snow. This
GOODNESS was the more agreeable, that above,
over the snmmits of the bushy trees, one
felt hanging in the gllded azure of the sky
the burden of motiOnless heat. The water
round the bank did not stir; in the shadow
cast on it from the bushes on its margin,
shone like little steel buttons, water-spiders
describing their incessant rounds. Slight
rippes played round the floats when the fish
dallied with the bait; they did not bite. In
the space of an entire hour we took only two
gudgeon.
[ do not know why the brigadier so excited
my curiosity. His rank could have no infu-
ence on me, and in those times a ruined
gentleman was no rare thing. His exterior
also had nothing remarkable. Under pad
ded cap, which entirely covered his head
from neck to eyebrows, was seen round
and red visage, with small lips, and small
eyes of clear gray. Simplicity, feebleness of
spirit, and know not what ancient sorrow
surviving without consolation and without
relief, were expressed by this meek and al
most childish visage. His hands. white and
plump, with short stout fingers, also indi-
Gated an irremediable awlwardness. I could
not imagine how this poor little old man
could ever have been a warrior, have COM
manded others, and that during the rude age
of the great Catherine.
From time to time he swelled his cheeks
and pulled as do little children; then he
seemed to make efforts to see what was be-
fore him as do decrepit old men. Once only
he opened wide his eyes, which seemed to
me larger than 1 had thought them at first.
Their gaze was directed toward me from the
bottom of the water, and this gaze appeared
to me strangely touching and significant at
the same time.
I tried to open conversation with him;
but Narkiz had not deceived me. The poor
old man, in fact, had become very weak of
comprehension. He inquired the name of
my family, made me repeat it two or three
suddenly:
''But we had Judge of that name. Gu
cumber, wasn't there such Judge. eh?''
eyes, yes, my little father Vassili Fomitch;
yes, your Grace" answered Cucumber, who
seemed to treat him as a child-''yes, there
was a Judge; but give me your line-I be-
lieve the worm is eaten. 1t is eaten, in
fact''
vf.-1 +ba 7 off fnT i1I-2i
the brigadier suddenly to me making great
effort over himself.
''What family?" said I.
GLOW What family Fedore Ivanitch,
Andre Ivanitch, Alexis Ivanitch, the Jew,
Theodulie Ivanovna the plunderess, and be-
sides-''
The brigadier brusquely interrupted him
self and lowered his eyes.
''They were his greatest intimates,' said
Narkiz in a low voice, leaning toward me-"
''It is, thanks to them, thanks to that AL
exis Ivanitch, whom he spoke of as a Jew,
and especially, thanks to another sister, Ag-
rafena Ivanoyna, that he has lost all his for
tune.n
'What are you muttering there about Ag
rafena Ivanovna?' cried the brigadier sud
denly. And his head raised itself, and his
white eyebrows contracted.
''Take care that! How dare you name her
with that clownish impoliteness? Agrafena?
Agrippina you should say.''
"See, see, little father" said Cucumber
interposing.
''You do not know then what the poet
Milonof wrote in her honor?" continued the
old man, who was entered in an agitation
I had not been able to anticipate. And he
began to declaim with emphasis, pronounc-
ing the sylables can" and ''en' in subna-
sal tone, in French manner, as did our an
cient petitS n1aitres.
Ono; the flaming hymeneal torches'-
that's not it, but this: No; 1t is not the
vain idol of frailty, it is not amaranth nor
porphgry which fill them with their charms