The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1898-08-14
BY AVILA WEST.

Spector Of forests a hundred verStS or
so from here. Her youth was solitary,
and she reao and learned, and rode wild
ponies and shot wild animals. until,
fancy, her character had become a
somewhat strange mixture of cultiva-
ton and savagery.
At twenty, she met Ivan Morosoff,
an engineer. and they fell passionately
in love with each ether. But Morosoff
had not been successful man in his
profession. He was now nliddie-aged
and had made but little fortune. Pras-
covia's father would not hear of any
engagement, ard for several years the
lovers had to wait, possessing their
souls in patience" the love Of the girl
only deepening and strengthening with
the delay. At last the marriage took
place. Four children were born to them
ard all went Well, until one day Moro
soft was seized by the police on sus-
picion Of being a Nihilist-was tried,
and condemned to the mines of Siberia
for life.
Those who knew Prascovia at that
time, say that the look OF despair on
her face was something heartrending.
Her concentrated nature suffered to it's
depths; even her children had no power
of consolation; she was one of thos.
with whom the husband, the father.
! must always come first. Her entreaty
for permission to accompany, or, at
least, to join her husband in Siberia
was refused.
All seemed hopeless, when, some
| months after their separation, Madame
| Morosom received a secret missive from
her husband, saying that he had by
some marvel escaped when on his way
! to the mines (the long convoy often TAX
| ing months on the road, had been hid
| ing in the forest for many weeks, half
starved and frozen, and was now ly-
ing in wretched isba, very sick, but
! not, he thought, unto DEATH if only
| his beloved wife could join him.
Come, my Prascovia!" he wrote;
"come at all risks. Bring all my chill
| dren il you can; if not, let me have my
darling Ottilie, our youngest. I must
feel her little arms about my neck,
and hear her sweet bable once more,
whether 1 am to live or die. My old
| complaint is upon me, and you must
also bring with you supply Of that
medicine on which you know my life
at times depends"
That night Prascovia started, driv-
| ing herself in a sledge drawn by a pair
| of small but strong horses, with her
| four children and store Of food and
medicine for the sick man. 1t was full
| moonlight; the children were smothered
in furs, and though the end Of October
! and bitterly cold she feared only one
thing-wolves! There lay the great,
| the enormous danger Of the way.
Hordes Of them were wont to come
! down from the higher lands on the ap-
| proach of winter. The rich took an
| armed escort with them when travel
| ing was necessary. Prascovia could
| only afford one horseman, and his beast
| fell lame, and he had to desert the
party when still many versts from the
village of Kutsk, through which their
road lay. After that the land became
J more cultivated and the danger less.
| On they flew over the snowy waste
! Prascovia was armed with couple Of
loaded pistols, and her courage was
high. But she kept looking anxiously
out while the children prattled away at
| her feet, and laughed aloud, excited by
the rapid motion of the sledge.
Suddenly a faint shadow seemed to
rest on the steep slope Of a hill to their
left. Was it only the shadow Of a
| cloud unlit by the brilliant moonlight
! or was it-Prascoviass heart stood still