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

H.. III
you like; If you don't like. why. iii tucl
myself up in the snow. There are not
seven deaths in store for us. and we emit
steer clear of one."
What you want, my friend, is com.
mon sense and moderation. Oh, dash
this snow! I've broken my arm, swear.
The sidewalk ought to be strewn with
sand, instead of which"-
They've strewn it with snow" he
broke in very impertinently, as il
seemed to me, for although 1 had not
broken my arm 1 had hurt it, and did
not relish being laughed at by beggar.
bottled up my rage, however, by way
of giving him an object lesson in sell
mastery, and we soon came up to a
sleigh. the driver Of which was wildly
dancing in order to keep away the bitter
cold and treacherous sleep.
An hour later we We're comfortably
seated in my dining room at q table
adorned with n big, bright samovar,
sweetly singing of the joys of domestic.
ity, as no kettle on the most blazing fire
in the contest of rooms ever yet sang.
My strange guest-Nikolai Stepanoyitch
Malkoff was the name he gave-lad
frightened up bit, but only as to his
brain. His mood remained as desponC.
ent as before. He was tall, spare man.
with long, pinched face, high cheek
bones, hollow cheeks with hectic flush,
sunken eyes and shaggy red beard. His
bearing was as naughty as that of g
Spanish beggar, his tone frank and fa.
miliar almost to the point of cynicism,
and he had an awkward habit of talking
loudly and interrupting others.
He was an old man of 90 or there.
neutrality-suspicious. being the stuff that
age is made of, and he, having deal
more than his share, had burned life's
candle at both ends and scoffed at the
idea of economizing now 1 felt pity
for the man on abstract principles, for
was fresh from the university and full
of the idea of regulating society and in.
fusing what we labeled "the quintes
sence of Christianity, or the gospel ac
| cording to Dostoleffsky," into my life. ]
mentally set myself to the task of rescu
| ing this outcast from the jaws of spirit
, ual death and smuggling him once more
into decent society through some back
door. for held that every fallen man is
better than he fancies himself. am of
IiiO Ol'iiitOii QUIZ OiiA1 NOuiA hOh
adolf not Il good deal worse.
| II suppose you don't mind my asking
you something about your antecedents-
just enough to guide me in my choice of
ways and means of helping YOU" said
as pushed the second tumbler of piping
hot tea toward him, the delicious fra.
GRANGE of which he speedily dispelled
with thin slice of lemon and was about
to ,annihilate utterly by adding a sus-
picion of runl-a very heavy suspicion, it
seemed to me ut the time.
"Ah, batyaoshka" Qittle father), he
exclaimed, waving his hand despairingly,
''the mere thought of disturbing the
ghosts of the past makes my flesh creep.
They seem to stare at me like deserted
images of myself, and they often haunt
and mock me till death would seem a
relief if I were sure of not meeting them
as torturing fiends down there. The
moth eats stuffs and sorrow gnaws the
heart of man. says tine proverb, and
some mems hearts We're made only to be
gnawed perpetually like Prometheus
liver. Mine is one of the number.
never had what's known as luck, but al
invisible luck conductor instead. The
pleasant thing that saw only in dreams
happened every day TO other people when
they were awake
And having emptied his glass he push
ed back the saucer ON which it stood sc
violently toward me and the samovar
that the tunbler fell out and stained the
white tablecloth. cut short his apollo
gies by ignoring the incident altogether
and returning to tie previous question.
"You are pessimist, Nikolai Stcpah-
ovitch," exclaimed. "and"-
believe me-" he broke in, I'D gladly
win the game, but have neither trumps
nor IL long suit rs the saying is, and
must needs let things slide. When the
lemons squeezed dry, it's high time fol
the peel to be flung away and that's
my case"
"Well, tell me how it all came about
anyway. You say you were at the uni
vcrsity. Did you take Your degree"
Not l. Inever took anything WORTH
having. My lot has been that of the
Tartar in the story When lie saw tic
delicious llissell Gl kind of jclly) in his
dream, he had no spoon to cat it with
and when he went TO bed with spoon
in his hand he saw no kissell. left the
university when my father lost his for
tune, of which we We're ignorant until
he lost his life too. My sister and myself
were then for turning our hands to some
lucrative work so as to keep the mill
turning. But my mother would not
hear of it. She adored me as an icon
and she wanted golden frame to put
me in. was to enter high society and
play lions part therein. The shortest
cut to the salons being through the of