The Roanoke times. [volume] (Roanoke, Va.) 1890-1895, 1893-10-05
NIGHT IN kUoo1A.


Love us In black; every ono will love us in
red.-Russian Proverb.
81 was university man, gospodeen
(sir), and an officer in the guards, too
Gods my witness-before I took to
Rkulking ut street corners without u cop
per copeck to pay for nights shelter.
1t is true saying, Let no man ever
scorn the beggar's knapsack nor the con-
yicts cell, nor spit in the we'll he may
have to drink FROM"
These words, issued from a heap of
blackness darker than the dusky back.
ground of the dead wall close to which
it covered. brought me to standstill
at the corner of lonely street in Kiev,
the mother of Russian cities. T don't
know exactly why stopped to listen,
for was never before in less chart
table mood than on that wild winters
night. The frost would have frozen up
the milk of human kindness in the breast
of saint and made a stole morose and
selfish. Although but few minutes
past 8, the streets were as deserted as at
midnight, and the few stragglers still
abroad were fioundering helplessly about
80 VIC NSSP phOM, Slld1 DiI-
ticles Of which were being well rubbed
into their faces and ears by an icy wind
violent enough to root up the paving
stones and sharp enough to shave a new
, laid egg.
Heavens, what q wind! An English
northeaster is gentle zephyr to it. And
the air was cold enough i'll all conscience
to dispense with the Fictitious aid of
wind, for when the mercury sinks away
| till it has put 40 degrees between its
resting place and freezing point, rely
upon it, circulation is going ON under
sufficiently serious difficulties. But the
storm made the air feel fully 20 degrees
f, colder. The frost penetrating the body
like shot from u Manlicher regulation
| rifle, you had no time to shiver or shul-
, der, but your heart began to flutter like
' bird beating its wings against the cage
bars, and your teeth We're set firmly as
in lockjaw. Then YOU remembered the
sins of your youth and lneditated upon
death.
| That is how felt, although physically
enveloped from head to foot i'll a warm
| fur shooba (mantle), in which my own
mother would not have recognized
her son. Moreover, l was in a peeyish,
discontinued frame of mind. Every
thing had gone agley with me all that
day, and l had been for the past 10 min
utes keeping one eye half open in hopes
/ of sighting Il stray sleigh to take me
away from the scene of my tribulation
but there was not vehicle of any kind
within hail. The hills and hollows of
slippery snow that beset my path had
also tried my temper.
| had twice measured my full length
on the ground, getting the snow down
my neck and smashing my new maxi
mum thermometer i'll my efforts to rise,
while the wind made my cheeks and eye
lids ache, numbed my nose, till III sheer
self defense had to rub it briskly with
snow, and continually blew my shooba
wide open, threatening me with inflam-
nation of the lungs and consumption.
l could have punished that wind as
XerXes punished the waves, if l only had
slaves to do my bidding, and failing
that l could have sat down where was
and cried with rage and vexation, but
have always been opposed to suicide on
principle.
Such were the circumstances under
which was suddenly confronted by a
lazy hulk of fellow who. for aught /
knew, might follow up his appeal for
aims by the magic assurance that he had
nothing in the world to call his own but
a single revolver and few miserable
cartridges with which it was loaded
Beggars in Russia are as plentiful as
blackberlies, as persuasive as Irish law
yers and sometimes as desperate as
highwaymen. y years experience of
their ways, without exactly turning you
into an unteeling cynic, develops a thin
crust of ice around Your heart which it
needs something more than the fire of
everyday eloquencc to thaw.
why don't you work like an honest
MANI" | asked, uncertain what to say.
Work." he replied, interrogating
Work" bitterly. 'Tobies are dress
ed i'll shoobas, as they ought to be this
time of the Year. Who'll give work TO
the outcastto the jetsam and hotsam
of rotten society: I've fallen to the
very bottom of the social staircase-the
next step is the grave, and L shan't have
very long to wait for that now. Night
is as good a season for death as day, and
frost not more painful than hunger.
May God requite you for your kindness,
gospodeen. Good night"
stop Il moment" exclaimed des-
perately working my way toward the
receding bundle of darkness. "You have
willfully misunderstood me and insulted
me to boot, and you should be the last
man to do that. For the wolf there's
hunger; for tho fox toothsome morsels,
says the proverb. What l meant to