El Paso herald. (El Paso, Tex.) 1901-1931, 1911-02-25
MISERY
By Nicholas TeIekhov

EUST as deposits Of clay and sand
carried along with the rising water
y are left on the steppes when the
snow has melted in the spring. so on
the vast fields of Siberia, after the en-
igrants have passed there remains
many fresh graves. And just as many
little fishes are left stranded in the
sand and among the grass to die strug-
Cling under the hot rays of the sun
when the swollen rivers suddenly re-
| cede. so many children doomed to death
! or the miserable existence OF orphans
are left behind when the torrent Of
thousands of human beings has rushed
on.
Nicolka. a thin little boy of five, ly-
ing on his bed of mouldy straw strug-
Cling between life and death. was one
of these orphans.
IF he is going to die let him die,
Oh God, and forgive me for this pray
er!" cried his father in despair. It
would be a relief to know the boy dead
before they left him.
He would miss Nicolka, would miss
him dreadfu1ly, and it broke his heart
to leave him so. But what was he to
do? The authorities would not allow
any sick people on the boat and to
wait a whole month here would mean
consisted Of eight souls: besides Nicoi-
ka, and he must think of them, too.
It was question of waiting for Nj
coIka to die with death staring them
all in the face. or go on further while
there was still a chance, and leave
Nicolka TO die alone
-Arinai Come here a moment" call
ed Matve;, going towards his hut. His
wife stood before him. her emaciated
face pale with dispair as she silently
waited for the question she knew
would come.
"What are we to do?" asked Matvei.
unable TO decide himself, ARE we to
pack up or shall we stay here?"
Long they stood looking into one an
others eyes Both were mute for sew
eraI minutes, then Arina began to cry
and Matvei walked slowly away. still
bordering over the same question
IF we do not go tomorrow We shall
all perish" thought Matvei. TT will
be all over"
What troubled him more than any
thing else was the thought that Nicolka
might die Immediately after the others
had left the next day. Then we would
be lost"
And the question arose once more:
was it right to let the family perish?
Should he not try to save those who
were still alive and we'll?
He turned back to his hut and again
called Arina.
mo, Nicolka cannot live he said IN
a heavy voice, as if he were ashamed
to announce his decision, and with
sigh he added: ct is Gods will. God
gave. God has taken back his gift. II
we live another Nicolka will come TO
take his place, this one must die.
It was a calm starlight night. The
immense camp Of immigrants was
sleeping peacefully in their tents. Mat
vel and the others of his family slept
But Arina could not sleep.
She was a plain countrywoman, with
a broad back and flat chest. She was
sitting carelessly on the ground, her
back bent, her legs stretched out, her
tired eyes were staring towards the
pale horizon, the corners OF her mouth
were drawn down and tears were roll
ing down her flat coarse face. From
time to time she picked up the bottom
of her skirt and brushed away the
streaming drops and then again be-
gun the stare at the straight line where
sky and earth met, or at the sky above
where two bright stars were shining
and twinkling at one another like two
children at play.
Patient and long suffering Arina had
never felt the misery and hardships Of
her life until this moment of sorrow.
Hard work and the ceaseless cares of
the family, the coarse caresses of her
drunken husband-al1 these things she
had taken as they came and found
quite natural She had got up at dawn,
made breakfast for her children, sewed
or patched their clothes. often without
as much as a crust of bread to ap-
pease her hunger, and when Lent came
she had confessed her little sins and
worried about the salvation of her soul,
tortured at the thought OF eternal pun
ishment in the next world. Her whole