The Penn's Grove record., 1888-08-18

the windows at night other than those
that shone there In the depth Of WIN
ter. People shook their heads and said
he was not there. And was the prin-
cess, they wondered, as white as she
was q year agop And had the child
grown into a strong creature?
Well, WE'LL How could they tell
Heaven knows. life and death were
hard enough, and each went home to
her own.
One morning In the summer, that Is,
the late summer, when it was really
warm. Ivan Ivanovitch got up very
early and set out on a journey about
three leagues off where he had q piece
Of work to do. He did not waken
MaIianka, but took a square of bread
and a bottle Of milk In the bag with his
tools and left her sleeping. with her
strong, handsome white arm thrown up
over her dark head. Awkwsrdly he
stopped down above her and kissed her
shoulder with his bearded lips, and as
awkwardly there came into his uncouth
mind the wish that harm might be far
away from her during his absence, and
that il aught arrived it might be a
blessing. And then Ivan I%vanovitch
tucked his long trousers into his thick
muddy boots and started ON his way.
Marlanka did not sleep long after
that. She woke up and rubbed her
ewes and stared about, and laughed
aloud to herself as she saw that her
husband had already gone. leaving the
door a little aiar, so that a streak OF the
early daylight shone in upon her face.
She might as well get up, too; there
was always plenty to do. That was
true enough. She dressed herself and
said her prayers, and ate her breakfast,
and then, ''what first" Well Ivan
I~vanovitch's shirts were there In the
corner to be washed.
So Marianka took up a can and
walked through the vegetable patch
and the ripe oats down to the edge Of
very still. The hush Of dawn hung
tenderly, like a silent benediction, over
all the slumbering village. the sombre
lake and the great beautiful front Of
the palace leagues away.
Then there came a zephyr that
swelled into q breezs-the breath new
drawn of another new born day--the
twitter Of a bird. ripples on the bosom
Of the lake, and-what elsep Marianka
shaded her eyes with one hand; she
dropped the can out Of the other into
mud. There, indeed, before her eyes,
caught In the long tangle of the marsh
grasses floated a little bed and on 1t lay
"a little child.
Marianka laughed aloud joyously,
and then (for superstition holds a large
| place In the mind OF the Russian peas.
anti she screamed and murmured,
"SnakharkaI" which means a witch.
But still. after all, it was so pretty,
and asleep, too, on the brown bosom OF
the lake, the little fiat wooden bed
with its warm coverings and linen
pillow, rocking very gently back and
forth. And it had flOated-whenceP
To her very door; 1t was, it ever should
be hers; she would this moment raise
it, and carry it in her arms up the hill
slope, to the good priests and ask him
if she were not right.
Marianka therefore lifted the child, |
a we'll grown one of perhaps 8 or 4
years, and saw that beneath 1t lay a
small packet Of papers with writing on
the label. She could not read, bat she
dragged the little bed on shore, and
oViibiy SoiAiSu uhO Suhius INV WiuO
awake, and the packet to the priest.
On the way the child cried softly for a
few moments, and spoke a few sentences
a language which Marianka could not
understand, and this puzzled her; she
did not know that the children OF per-
o n of ever q small distinction in Rus
sia, generally have an English and a
French nurse, and thus early acquire
these languages, sometimes before their
own.
Marianka ran into the yard, breath
less. with her burden. Tue good priest
sat under the porch reading his book OF
devotions.
SWELL" cried he, "MarIanka, good
morning. "And what is this2" He
rose and put off his spectacles.
"Oh. it Is a lake baby, it is mine; l
found it Just now, in the grasses, lying
on a small wooden bed, and you, who
can read, quick, let US see what this
says. Comel Emp"
He took the packet from her hand
and looked at 1t a few moments In
silence, and then sighed.
"Wellp" Marianka cried, "well?"
"Oh, you keep the child, it is yours.
and I will put the packet way in safety
until 1t is grown up"
"Is that bestl"
"Yes.n
"And will you baptize my little n
on SundayP"
"Uh, it is likely a well grown child
like this has already been baptized"
"What shall we call ltp"
"Oh- well, Roxandra, ehp"
Every WE'LL"
land Ivan lvanovitch, what will he
sayp"
"Oh, If 1 am pleased he will be too"
"But it costs, a child does" I
"Yes, true, but the love was ready
first, you see, and the meat will be
alsO."
Marianka was quite right. Ivan
Ivanovitch was as much delighted as
bis wife; and, although their neighbors
shook their heads and sighed over the
Lake baby's mysterious talk. its foster
father and mother laughed as they
taught 1t eish day some word OF their
own language.
Roxandra was fond Of the Lake
Karka; she would play on the shore for
hours together, and stick her little
white feet in the mu Idly waters, and
crow, and shout, and sp.aih herself
like a young duck; 50 that, as she grew
older, Marianka would sigh sometimes,
and wonder IL she could bs :hs verit-
able child OF the lake, a being OF mystic
terious aqueous parentage. But Ivan
Ivanovitch nudged his wife and roared
at her whims, and presently built a
rough little raft for the child, in which
she padded herself, up and down had
almost said, but down" is wrong.
Roxandra never chose to go down the
Lake OF Karka. but always up. up
toward the Palace of Prince Okanin,
and one day she went SO far that Ma
rianka was frightened and screamed to
her from the shore.
But Roxandra heard nothing, and
when she did GENE home she was silent
and lay among the oats for an hour
with her face turned up to the blue
spring sky; she was 8 years old then.
D