The morning call., 1893-01-19
FEODOR HIMKOFF.

ills Just six years ago that first travelled
she coast from Gorrans Haven to ZOze
Point
Since then I have visited itin fair weather
and foul, and in time, perhaps, shall rival
the eoastgualdsmen, who can walk il blind
fold. But TO this day 1t remains in my
recollection the coast L trod. without COM
panion, during four dark days in December.
II was q rude introduction. The wind blew
IN MY face with scuds of cold rain; lesden
mist hung low on the left and rolled slowly
up channel. Now and then il thinned
enough to reveal a white ZigZag Of breakers
In front and blur OF land. or. far below,
cluster of dripping rocks with the sea crawl
Ing between and lifting their weed. But for
the most part | saw only the fuTze-bushes
beside the path. each powdered with fine
rsindrops that in the aggregate Tesembled
ceat frIeze and the puffs OF spray that shot
Up over the cliffs lip and drenehed me.
Just beyond the Mare Head. where the
path dipped steeply, a bright square dlsen-
Gagged itself from the mist as l passed, and
around it the looming outline Of cottage
between the footpath and the sea. habi-
sation more desolate than this old angle Of
the coast could hardly have been chosen;
on the other hand the gov Of freight
within the kitchen window was almost au
Invitation. 1t seemed worth my While TO
ask for q drink II milk there and find out
what manner of folks were the inmates.
An old woman answered my knock. She
was tall. with slight sto0p, and tiDge of
yellow perVaded her face, as II some OF the
complexion had run into her teeth and the
whites OF her eyes. A clean white cap. tied
under the chin with tape. concealed all but
the edge OF her grey locks She wore
violet turnover, large wrapper, a brown
stuff gown that hardly reached her ankles,
and thick vOTsted stockings. but no shoes.
"a drink O. milk? Why not a dish o
'That would be troubling YOU" said !, a
bit ashamed for feeling so little IN want of
snstenaDee.
Few they be that troubles US, my dear.
Too few by land aud too many by sea- rest
their dear souIsl Step inside by the fire.
There's only my old man here, and you
needn't stand pom ceremony WI he, for
he's stone deaf an totelin'. Isaac, you
pOor, deaf haddock, here's a strange body
for ZEE 10 look at, though you'm past all
pomp but buryin', l reckon" She sighed
as | stepped past into the warmth.
The man she called Isaac was huddled
and noddna in a chair before the blush
blaze Of a wreck-wOOd fire. He met me
with an incuTiOus stare and began to doze
again. Re Nas clearly 10 the last decline OF
manhood, the stage Of utter childishness
and mere oblivion. and sat there with his
faculties collapsed waiting for release.
Ny mired boots played havoc with the
neatly sanded floor, but the old woman
busted chair for me as carefully as if / had
worn robes Of state. and set it on the ether
side Of the hearth. Then she put tile kettle
TO boil, and unhitchng a cup from the
dresser took a key from it and opened a
small cupboard between the fireplace and
the wall. That which she sought stood on
hal oh cd 70 ali IA
chair to reach it. | offered my helm; but
nO-she would get it herself 1t proved to
be a small green canister.
The tea that came from this canister l
wish could describe. No sooner did the
boiling water touch it than the room was
filed with fragrance The d0tard in the
chair drew long breath through his nos
tTils. as though the aroma touched some
quick center in his moribund brain. The
woman poured out cup ana l sipned 1t.
"Smuggled," thought to myself, for In
deco you cannot get sucn tea In London il
you pay fifty shiIlngs a pound.
'tY gu ike it?" she asked. Before | conld
answer, a small table stood at my elbow
and she was loading it with delicacies from
the cupboard. The contents Of that cup
boardl CaYlare came from it and small
ambrosial cheese; dried figs and guava
Jelly; olives. cherries in brandy. wonderful
hlberts glazed with sugar; biscuits and all
manner Of queer Russian sweets. l leaned
back with wide eyes.
"Feodor sends Us these" said the old
woman. bringing dish of Cornish cream
and a homemade loaf to give the feast
basis.
"Who's Feodor ?'
"Feodor Himkoff." She paused mo-
ment and added, He's mate On Russian
vessel"
"a frIend?"
The question went unnotlced. "Is there
any you faney?" she asked. "Some OF
may be Outlandisb eatin'."
''Do you like these things2" l looked
from her to the caviare.
81 don't know. | never tried. We keeps
'em. my man an /. for all poor comedy
chance folks that knocks"
but these are dainties for rich mems
tables"
"May be. I've never tasted-they'd
stick In our ozels II we tried"
/ wanted TO ask a dozen questions but
thought il potter to accept this strange hos
pitality in silence. CHANGING up presently,
however, | saw her eyes still fixed on me
and laid down my knife.
81 can't help 1t" | said, II want to know
about FeodOr HimkOf"
There's no secret" she answered
"Leastways, there was one, but either God
has condemned or forgiven afore now.
Look at my man there; he's done all the
repentin' he's likely TO do"
After few seconds hesitation she went
on
Il had a boy, you must know-oh. a
straight young man-that went for a soldier
w lad at mi arrn l,v tha I)r..t;----.