The Topeka state journal., 1902-03-08
ONCE A YEAR.
From the Russian of Chekod.]

rF'rom the Russian of Chekod.]
"A holiday aspect pervaded the little
hree-windowed house of the duchess. 1t
looked as though it had become young
again Everything about it had been
carefully swept, the gates had been op-
ened wide, the checkered window blinds
removed from the windows. The freshly
washed window-panes were timidly flirt-
ing with the spring Sunbeams. AT the
front entrance door stood Mark, the old
the feeble porter, dressed in a moth
eaten livery. His Sharp-pointed chin, to
shave which his trembling hands had
spent the whole morning, his newly
blackened boots and his military buttons
all reflected the sun. 1t was not in vain
that Mark had crawled out from his lit
tie room. Today was the birthday of
the duchess, and Mark was to open the
door for the visitors and announce their
names. Today there was no smell of
ground coffee or of fish soup IN the
forenoon, as was usually the case: this
time the scent of fine perfumes filed
the air. All the rooms had been care
fully put in order. Curtains were hung
up, the muslin was removed from the
pictures, the rough, scratched floors
were Waxed anew. The mlScnl6VOllS
Julka, the cat with the kittens ana. the
chickens were all locked up in the kitch-
en- until evening.
The duchess herself the mistress of
the three -windowed little house, a bent
and wrinkled old woman, was sitting in
a large armchair and was constantly
adjusting the folds of her white muslln
dress. Only the rose, which was pinned
on her lean breast, testified that there
was still some youth in the world. The
duchess was awaiting visitors-congrat-
ula tory. Baron Tramb was to be there
with his son: the Duke Khalakhadze,
Chamberlain Burlastor, her cousin, Gen
Bitkov and many Others-about 20 in
all. They will come and fill her parlor
with their conversation. The Duke
Khalakhadze will sing something and
Gen. Bitkov will for two hours in sue
cession keep on asking her for the rose
And she knows well how to behave in
the presence of these people. Inaccessi-
bility, StatelinesS will penetrate all her
movements BY the way, Khtulkin and
Pereulkor, the merchants, will also come
but these will find paper and ink in the
hallway. Every one to his trade" Let
them sign their names and go.
1t was IL o'clock. The duchess adjus-
ted her dress and the rose. A carriage
rode up noisily and stopped She listen
ed whether some one would ring her
bell. Five minutes elapsed
Not to youI" thought the duchess.
No, not to you. duchess! the history
the merciless historyi At o'clock the
duchess went into her bedroom, smelt
ammonia and sobbed, just as she had
done a year ago. No one came! Not
a Souli
Old Mark hustled about the duchess.
He was just as much grleved as she
was: the people have become corrupt In
former years they used to fill the parlor
like flies, while now
mo one Gamer sobbed the duchess;
neither the baron, nor the duke, nor
George Buvitzky. They have all for
saken me! And We're it not for me,
what would have become OF them? 1t is
to me that they owe their happiness,
their careers-to me alone! Without me
nothing would have become of them"
Nothing would have become of
themi affirmed Mark.
I ask for no thanks I want no
thanks It's the sentiment 1 want. My
God, how offensivei oh, how offensive!
Even my own Cousin John isn't here.
Why has he not come? What wrong
have 1 done him? I redeemed all his
good man. That John has cost me a
great deal I have fulfilled my word
given to his father. my brother. 1 spent
on him You know it your
And even to his parents, may say.
your highness was as good as parents."
And here-here is the gratitude! oh.
men.''
At O'Clock, the same as last year,
the duchess sank into a fit of Mysteries.
Alarmed, Mark put on his hat. trimmed
with galloon, and bargaining for a long
time with the coachman, started off to
Cousin John. Fortunately, the furnished
rooms occupied by Prince John were not
too far away. Mark found the prince
in bed. John had just returned from
an all-night spree. His large, wrinkled
face was red, his forehead covered with
perspiration. There was a buZzing i'll
his head, in his stomach a revolution.
He wanted to fall asleep, but could not;
vacantly. Mark entered the dirty room
and Struggling his shoulders with aver
sion, timidly walked up to the bed.
1T isn't nice, Ivan Mikhailich!' he