The Denver Jewish news., 1924-04-03
In a Bolsheuist Mar
ket Place
BY SIMEON YUSHKEWITCH
Copyright, 1924. Jewish Telegraphic
Appucyl

three hundred years ago. Carts and
peasant women in the carts. Peasants
standing about clad in the traditional
peasant blouse. Horses out of the
shafts. A smell of oats. a drizzle of
rain. The sky looks full of smoke.
Grey-blue clouds. motionless, congealed
All round the carts and in between
them, moving crowd, filling the mar
ket place, jostling the buyers who pass
in rows along the curb. One has a
shirt over his arm, Il second suit of
clothes, third carries n samover,
fourth an old skirt, Il fifth torn sheet.
Once upon time they were all rich,
these people, well-to-do.
They have been walking up and
down like this since early in the morn
ing All are shabby, in rags, pitiful
to see, worn out and worried looking.
Gentlemen and courtiers. stately danes
and aristocratic young girls. Like the
old-clothes dealers of other days they
20 up and down the street, carrying
with them everything they possess.
/ tllt uIteG llt lutN Sos stii-Cl-
facing people, humiliated looking.
threading their way among the carts
from which the peass women look
dow non them with contempt. Past
the bearded moujiks. The air is filled
with strident voices.
Like birds. Like a dream.
/ Straight as a stick, his beard un-
kempt, wearing a short coat. his toes
showing through his shoes, looking as
if he We're holding up the grey clouds
with his angular shoulders, the one
time Public Prosecutor for the district,
Ivan Feodorowitch Wosdrikov runs up
and down the market place, as he has
been doing all day since early in the
blue spots, is swollen with the, cold
and with wratli. His head, under the
covering of his Bolshevik cap, aches
with the constant drip-drap of the
rain beating down on it all day long.
Nobody there appears to want his
trousers, the trousers of his evening
dress suit which he carries slung over
his arm. People buy things for ordin-
ary. every day use. But he hasn't got
anything else to sell Ii is all that has
been left to him, the trousers of his
evening dress suit "Clods, pigs, dolts.'
he mumbes TO himself with indignation.
They won't buy anything from me.
Curse them Public Prosecutor, that's
/ what What fora WHATS tho
good of being Public Prosecutor?
used to despise the bootmaker didn't
/. idiot that was! Why didn't I learn
to he n bookmaker:''
He walked up to fat peasant woman
and without speaking Il word display
ed his trousers. appeal and inquiry in
his eyes. She shook her head. Then
| she tucked her face in the collar of
her fur coat and looked down at him
with contemptucus amusement Her
\ husband, as yellow-looking as his horse,
clambered heavily down from his cart
with sack of oats in his hand. He
let out n steam of breath through his
nostrils and mouth. Bourgeois !" he
muttered, and turned away with dis
| gust to attend to his horse.
Nine Bernstein. once wealthy
| lady, courtecusly made way for Wosd-
| rikOv and took IN her stand next to
| the peasant woman. She looked faded
with the rain. In wheeling voice
she said: MY dear, will you please buy
my samover?" Wosdrikov overheard
her. He shrugged his shoulders and
gave vent to an angry epithet THAT
Chaika again" he said wherever
you go you get these Chaikas and
Israels. Here she comes along with
her samover. OF course. she's sure to
sell n samover. That's why no one
wants TO buy my trousers. They
won't let us live, these cursed Jews -
Yellow as piece of wax, frightened
looking and dishevelled, the former
High School Inspector Saffron Mat
veiewitch Soucharouk, suddenly dived
up as if out of the sea. He had with
him hat TO sell. Seeing Wosdrikcv
with his evening dress trousers over
his arm, he gave n squeak of delight.
MY dear friend Ivan FeodorowitcI,
you've got trousers? And I've got "A
hat. My very dear friend. last week
| sold my tunic to caretaker. He
bought it because of the buttons He
thought they were gold buttons, but
for the life Of me l can't get anyone
to buy my hat
Its all the fault of the Jews
grumbled Wostlrikov. Unfair competi-
tion, that's what it is. You come hop
ing To sell your trousers, and that
Chaika comes along with samover.
What chance have You got to sell your
trousers, l ask you, when she goes