The Virginia enterprise. [volume] (Virginia, St. Louis County, Minn.) 1893-19??, 1900-12-14

The doors were barricaded, the windows
loopholed with mattresses and bags of
! sand, and senrinels were posted on the
hillsides and Waterman on the roof.
At supper the colonel RECALLED us with
| stories of his daughter and his family.
| The colonel was descended in a direct
line from Boyarin Orsha of Ivan the Ter
rible's time, and all his forebears had
been mighty men of battle. Varvara
famous Princess Ochtenski, who had
seen her two sons slaughtered before her
eyes at Smolensk rather than yield to
Napoleon's soldiers the keys Of the maya
zine, which her husband, the command
| ant, had left in her charge.
When the ladies left US ventured to
question our host as to the young lady
yonovna, or Sonia, as she was called,
in the family circle. was niece, OF the
colonel, daughter of a younger brother
who had disgraced himself by running
away with little Russian actress in the
'1Os, and had redeemed his disgrace and
achieved his Wife's misfOrtunes by get
ting shot on the heights of the Shipka
two years later. The poor widow had
returned to the stage, and struggled gal
lantly on for fifteen years, then died,
leaving no fortune but tender recollec-
ton behind her. Col. Orsha had sought
out his brothers child and made her well
| come to his mountain home. There was
large admixture of contemptuous pity
in his tenderness for her; she had none
Of the stern virtues of Farvara Petrov-
ma. ''She is not an Orsha," said the
colonel. She seemed in the household
like tender larch budding among the
pinetrees.
When we passed into the drawing
room after supper, the lieutenant went to
Varvara Petrovna like lamb to the
slaughter: roku ne minovat. AS an ar
fist without destiny / was able to de-
vote myself to the less heroic charms of
Sofia Semyonovna. She had a soft and
pretty pre- voice, and at the col9ners request
songs, sad little dumki Of her native
Ukraine, accompanying herself on a
either. She ended the evening in dis
grace. Fascinated by the sound of the
music. mouse crept out from a corner
toward the musician, Sonia was the
first to perceive it: dropping her litter
holding up, her skirts and uttering Sc
RES of little screams as high pitched al
most as the mouse's own squeak. She
was not an Orsha. Varvara Petrovna's
cat rose at the sound, and the mouse fed
for refuge to the window curtains
ISL iSily So sGnia s; said the stately Yarvara
o es n@a gong TO the He M'nq %isba
She shook the curtains; the mouse fell
to the floor, and the cat bounced upon it,
With the utmost unreason Sonia burst
into flood of tears.
Cruel, cruel Mishar' she cried.
Hush, Sonia" said her uncle; ''don'i
disgrace yourself before our guests"
Sonia ran out of the room like a petr,-
liant child, and was no more seen that
night.
We were up betimes in the morning.
Long robed hillmen had been sighted al
dawn in the pass; we might expect an at
Going to the drawing room at about 8
O'Clock, I found Varvara Petrovna and
the servants kneeling before the eikons
Earvara Petrovna was reading Slavonic
prayers out Of a large leather book, Will,
the servants crossed themselves vigorous
ly at every pause, and answered Hcspodi
pomllu-Lord, have mercy on us. Sonia
was nowhere to be seen.
She was discovered later in the great
servants hall, amusing herself with the
soldiers. When the lieutenant and 1 en-
tered the apartment she was performing
the national shawl dance with the big
cRorus singing Vo s Hei Ii 5000 ogo roy a;
and claPping their hands in measured
time. She was gliding coquettishly away
on heel and toe with the shawl raised
above her head, while the corporal
stamped rhythmnically after her in the
of the dance the singers broke into RAP
turous applause:
"Ay da Sofia Semyonovna:' they cried
''mOlOdetZ"
The crash Of rifle butt on the stone
floor of the vestibule broke up our must
cal party; one of the sentinels had come
with the news that the Chechenians wer.e
ascending the hillside. Varvara Petroy-
ma summoned the whole company into the
drawing room. We stood in Il circle
about the room and sang the national an
them, ''Bozhe Tsarya chrani,' Varvara
Petrovna leading the music in clear
| ringing voice.
Our hymn was hardly ended when the
crunch Of bullet in the top of the
French glass over the piano, followed bv
the crack of a rifle outside. warned us
that the attack had begun. Sonia turned
pale and uttered just such another little
| scream as she had uttered the evening
before at the sight of the mouse; then
she looked round from face to face, with
tears in her eyes and a little frightened
smile playing about her lips. Varvara
Petrovna took her by the hand and led
her from the room; women were not
wanted in the apartments facing the en-
envy.
The house STOOD as I have said, on a
prOmOntory jutting from the hillside; on
two sides the rock continued the lines of
the walls precipitously downward; on the
third there was no more than a terrac
between house and cliff; attack and de-
tense were concentrated on the side fac
ing down the garden. The enemy took
up their place behind the low wall which
divided the garden from the hillside, and
the fighting resolved itself into a logged
exchange of bullets between sheltered
men. Meanwhile the spring dubbed and
ran peacefully across the middle distance
with cheerful unconcern
The enemy had made their attack in
opportunely, just at the hour when we
had hoped to be sitting down to a COM
Portable deJeuner. AS a man I resented
the wrong to my appetite; as an artist I
could do no less than let off an ineffec-
tive gun through loophole to add to the
plcturesqueness of our defense. Man and
artist rejOiced together when Sonia and