The commonwealth., 1909-06-17
RuSSia'S Dread Suicide Game "TigeI
and Hunter"


residences. Just enough light fol-
men peering. into its relieved gloom
to distinguish the direction of ar
extended arm.
In the corners, behind barricades
improvised from the massive furnl-
ture, men bearded and giant-like,
men delicate and gaunt in feature,
peering into that tragic gloom.
Circling, craftily circling the room,
one man crouches like wild beast.
a silver bell around his neck ringing
from time to time, in spite of his
soft tread, the argent music he
breads as his death-knell.
Circling with equal craft moves
another man, whose eyes are ban
daged, whose hand clutches a re-
volver or a knife.
As the bell tinkles the blind-folded
pursuer wheels. The knife swings
toward 1t, straight and true Of aim.
A lunge, a thud, and the man of the
silver bell falls dead, a gaping wound
in his breast.
1t is the end of the game Of Tiger
and Hunter, the latest, most horri-
bic phase Of the neurasthenic cpl
demic which is sweeping over de-
bauched, self-poisoned, enslaved
Russia.
In all the history of mankind, in
the murderous sports of Nero, who
could smother his friends under rose
petals, and the savage English cruel
ty which could impale on red-hot
pokers the hapless young Princes of
the fatal Tower, diseased magma
ton has never equaled the horrors
Of self-inflicted anguish devised and
practiced in hate-riven Russia.
Mercilessly cleft into two classes,
masters and slaves, the substance Of
the cruelest slavery retained from
the hour when the odium of nominal
serfdom was shed, the Russian peo-
pie have passed to the more aban-
doned stage of human wretchedness.
Thus far, the world outside has
heard only Of the bitter, grinding
miseries of the oppressed of their
starvations, their tortures, rapines
and martyrdoms, their bloody repri-
sails and appalling revolts.
But the news that now comes out
Of St. Petersburg regarding the rich
and powerful, reveals suddenly the
inner working. in Russia afresh, Of
the infallible law Of government
that the masters shall perish with
their slaves.
Neurasthenia, that fearful poison
of the soul, is sickening the very
vitals of the ruling classes.
Their nerves, rotted out with the
debaucheries of unrestrained indul-
gence, are failing to withstand the
terrors of the bumbs that carried
off such shining marks as Won Plehve
and the Grand Duke Sergius, and
such typical victims as Ignatieff,
Bobrikof and Gapon,
The distant, secret Vaccinations
Of such living menaces as Pierre
Krapotkin, Vera Figner, Hermann
Lapotkin and Boirtzev, the recent
Identification in London Of the pro-
fessional traitor Azev, the plots and
cabals and the eternal brooding
dread of the suspicious breath that
watts to Siberia horror upon hor-
ror-have left whole coteries of
wealthy Russians mere quivering
jellyfish Of fear, longing for death
while dreading deaths awful coun-
tenance.
THE SUICIDE CLUB.
So it has happened that Steven
sons grewsome phantasy of 'The
Suicide Club" penetrating into neu-
rasthenic Russia, became the first
wade mecum of despair and then
the inspiration of the most terrible
gambling games the world has ever
beheld.
1t is no longer-so accursed are
these lost souls Of tyranny the ul-
tra-fashionable thing to make the
trip to Finland" True, scores of
the nerve-diseased rich still travel to
to the famous and romantic Imatra
Rapids, there to fling themselves
into that roaring he'll of waters, as
so many fascinated creatures have
sought the fatal embrace of our
own Niagara.