Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-04-11

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TN old peddler who went by the name
of Uncle Fedia. No one knew him by
any other name. Whence came Uncle
'Fedia? Did he ever have family, a
master? That is what nobody could
tell.
Uncle Fedia used to make the tour of
the villages In the vicinity. Four or five
times a year he could be seen re-
appearing with his telega crude four
wheeled, springless wason), his little
.raw-boned horse and hG pack, full to
bursting, of knick-knacks and curiosi-
ties.
scared look of whipped cur and looked
more like a goodfor-nothing tramp
than an honest Russian peasant. More
over, the villagers suspected the old
peddler OF exercising spells upon them.
1t was believed that all these travelling
gentry had dealings with the evil one,
and that it was not for nothing they
carried at the bottom of their packs
all sorts Of books, ink, pens and spec
tacles with which you could see man
three versts (almost two miles) away.
AS they went everywhere, inspecting
every house, and slept at night wherever
they happened to be- departing with
the dawn, what was surprising If they
bew1tched children and cattle?
However. I used to like Uncle Fedia.
He played an important part in my
youth; he held place of honor in my
memory, the place which is fullest of
joyful impressions. AS far back as
can remember the old peddler was in
Separable from our religious festivals.
What excitement there was when we
heard the tinkle of his little bell as
his old horse stopped at the gate. He
would open his baSket-and, oh, what
treasures lodged therein! I used to
watch the bottom compartment, where,
as 1 well knew, the playthings were
packed away.
My father would frown and exchange
glances with our old steward, who at
once would look like bulldog. AS soon
as the purchases were made the peddler
would tie up his bundles. He never
fingered. They would open the door for
him and never lose sight of him while
he was in the courtyard
One day my father told me how some
one had set fire in the night to the
house of one of our neighbors, a noble
man, who lead his peaSantry hard life
and was consequently on bad terms with
them. My father did not doubt that
this was piece of the work of the
miscreant known as Uncle Fedia who
had been around the day before. IN
deed, the peddler was arrested the same
day while Strolling through some pine
woods in the vicinity of the burned
house.
A trial was held, but, in spite of all
the efforts of the prosecuting attorney.
no distinct charge could be sustained
against the prisoner. The examination,
however, pointed to the guilt of
woman of our village, a certain Axiom
lima, who had been employed in the
house of our unfortunate neighbor.
This woman dismissed on the very eve
ming of the crime, after violent scene
in which threats and blows were used,
had not been seen in her howell until
the next day and could not satisfactorily
explain her whereabouts in the mean
time. The court released Uncle Fedia,
not without some salutary advice and
an order to leave the country.
Three months later the criminal trial
took place in the presence of a great
number of people. My father and 1
attended. On the prisoners bench sat
the accused and little behind her one
OF her kinsWomen was trying to amuse
two little girls, holding at the same time
a newborn baby. These were the chill
dren of Akonlina, the prisoner. She
was still young. neither homely nor
pretty, true type of Russian woman.
She continually watched the clock, as
though awaiting some one or something
which the hours would bring her
The proofs against her were crushing.
The prosecutor concluded by demand
ing the penalty provided by the edict
for the crime of incendiarism-
deportation to Siberia. Little was said
in the poor Woman'S defense. One
peasant had the courage to state that
this woman was killing herself with
hor
be left defenseleSs if calamity befelI
her. The woman herself paid no atten-
lion to any one; she watched the clock
and the door. She was hoping one
Anton, cousin, might arrive to pro-
vide her alibi-she had been with him
when the fire was set. But he was on
the high seas; he could not be reached.
L am innocent" Ankolina said. II
know nothing about the fire. Let them
ask Anton-let him come He will tell
how 1t was. I know nothing of what
has happened. am innocent"
She spoke with such an accent of sin
cerity that, in spite of the accumulation
of presumptive evidence against her, the
convictions of many Of those present
were shaken. We would have been glad |
if something very unexpected had hap |
pened, something which would release |
her.
When sentence was pronounced,
Akonlina fell TO the floor, shaken with |
;sobS, and appealed aloud to Christ to |
save her. The peasants fell on their |
knees and also prayed. The court was |
silent for moment Then AIonlina |
rose and looked to the door, expecting |
her prayer to be answered.
The door did open, but Anton did not |
enter. 1t was Uncle Fedia, tbs ped
ldler, who entered. I saw him look kind
,ly toward the children of the accused |
woman. He stepped quietly forward and |
knelt before the judges bench. Asked |
what he wished, he spoke: Pardon, |
gentlemen, judges. but this woman is not
guilty. I am the malefactor. I set |
the house on fire"
They were at first incredulous. But
they remembered he had first been ac-
tcused of the crime. And he told a very |
convincing story of how he had done |
the deed. He explained that he was
taking vengeance on the nobleman-
land being the suspicious character he
was, no one doubted him. They believed
Uncle Fedia could have done it-so he
tdid!
The surprise of the first moment gave
way to a new conviction in the minds
a of the judges and audience. Perhaps
! this conviction may haye been aided by
the secret desire shared by all of seeirg
; the wyath of outraged justice turned
from the head of Akonlina We were
all ready to find the culprit in this
'Vagabond OH whom suspicion in the first
instance had SO naturally fallen.
Uncle Fedia was condemned to the
mines of Siberia. The term was re-
duced to 10 years in consideration of
1.-THE voluntary confession. The gen.
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