The weekly Thibodaux sentinel and journal of the 8th Senatorial District. [volume], April 28, 1894, English, Image 4

About The weekly Thibodaux sentinel and journal of the 8th Senatorial District. [volume] (Thibodaux, Lna. [i.e. La.]) 1875-1898

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€t)ibofcau* Sentinel.
^NIGHT IN RUSSIA.
Love ns is black; every one will love «• fat
rad. —Russian Proverb.
"I was a university man, gospodeen
<■ir). and an officer in the guards, too—
God's my witness—before I took to
Skulking at street corners without a cop
r copeck to pay for a night's shelter.
is a true saying, 'Let no man ever
scorn the beggar's knapsack nor the con
vict's cell, nor spit in the well he may
Dave to drink from.'"
These words, issued from a heap of
blackness darker than the dusky back
ground of the dead wall close to which
it cowered, brought me to a standstill :
at the corner of a lonely street in Kiev, j
the mother of Russian cities. I don't •
know exactly why I stopped to listen, ;
for I was never before in a less chan-1
table mood than on that wild winter's j
night. The frost would have frozen up '
the milk of human kindness in the breast I
of a saint and made a stoic morose and
selfish. Although but a few minutes
past 9, the streets were as deserted as at
midnight, and the few stragglers still
abroad were floundering helplessly about
in the deep snow, the sharp prickly par
ticles of which were being well rubbed
into their faces and ears by an icy wind
violent enough to root up the paving
stones and sharp enough to shave a new
laid egg.
Heavens, what a wind! An English
northeaster is a gentle zephyr to it. And
the air was cold enough in all conscience
to dispense with the factitious aid of
wind, for when the mercury slinks away
till it has 'put 45 degrees between its
resting place and freezing point, rely
upon it, circulation is going on under
sufficiently serious difficulties. But the
storm made the air feel fully 20 degrees
colder. The frost penetrating the body
like a shot from a Manlicher regulation
rifle, you had no time to shiver or shud
der, but your heart began to flutter like
a bird beating its wings against the cage
bars, and your teeth were set firmly as
in lockjaw. Then you remembered the
sins of your youth and meditated upon
death.
That is how I felt, although physically
enveloped from head to foot in a warm
fur shooba (mantle), in which my own
mother would not have recognized
her son. Moreover, I was in a peevish,
discontented frame of mind. Every
thing had gone aglev with me all that
day, and I had been for the past 10 min
utes keeping one eye half op*en in hopes
of sighting a stray sleigh to take mo
away from tho scene of my tribulation,
but there was not a vehicle of any kind
within hail. The hills and hollows of
slippery snow that beset my path had
also tried my temper.
I had twice measured my full length
on the ground, getting the snow down
my neck and smashing my new maxi
mum thermometer in my efforts to rise,
while the wind made my cheeks and eye
lids ache, numbed my nose, till in sheer
self defense I had to rub it briskly with
snow, and continually blew my shooba
wide open, threatening me with inflam
mation of the lungs and consumption.
I could have punished that wind as
Xerxes punished the waves, if I only had
slaves to do my bidding, and failing
that I could have sat down where I was
and cried with rage and vexation, but I
have always been opposed to suicide on
principle.
Sucn were the circumstances under
which I was suddenly confronted by a
lazy hulk of a fellow who. for aught I
knew, might follow up his appeal for
alms by the magic assurance that he had
nothing in the world to call his own but
a single revolver and a few miserable
cartridges with which it was loaded.
Beggars in Russia are as plentiful as
blackberries, as persuasive as Irish law
yers and sometimes as desperate as
highwaymen. A year's experience of
their ways, without exactly turning you
into an unfeeling cynic, develops a thin
crust of ice around your heart which it
needs something more than the fire of
everyday eloquence to thaw.
"Why don't you work like an honest
man?" I asked, uncertain what to say.
"Work?" he replied, interrogating.
"Work" (bitterly). "Tobies are dress
ed in slioobas, as they ought to be this
time of the year. Who'll give work to
the outcast—to the jetsam and flotsam
of a rotten society? I've fallen to the
very bottom of the social staircase—the
next step is the grave, and I shan't have
very long to wait for that now. Night
is as good a season for death as day, and
frost not more painful than hunger.
Hay God requite you for your kindness,
gospodeen. Good night."
"Stop a moment," I exclaimed, des
perately working my way toward the
receding bundle of darkness. "You have
willfully misunderstood me and insulted
me to boot, and you should be the last
man to do that. 'For the wolf there's
hunger; for the fox toothsome morsels,'
•ays the proverb. What I meant to
■ay was that if you were telling me the
truth and really desired to become hon
«at and industrious again. I would at
once—h'm—that is, I could—h'm—if—I
mean that, if I saw my way, I might
tight things somewhat again for yon.
Where do you live?"
"In space."
"No lodgings?"
"No, nor the price of them either."
"Where did you live—that is, h'm,
lodge, sleep, I mean?"
"In a hayloft."
"And before that?"
•' "In a church." —
"Now, look here; draw nearer to the
lamp; yee, that's it. Just come with me,
and I'll put you in my kitchen for to
night, and tomorrow Til see what I can
do for you. I'm taking you at your own
estimate, mind, and I hope you'll jus
tify"—
"It's not a very extravagant one, I
fancy. An outcast, I believe I said—
the flotsam"
"Why will you persist in misunder
standing me? I mean as to your past."
"Well, that won't throw very much
light on my future. Don't think I want
to touch your heart. Perhaps I did when
I first accosted you. Hunger and cold
make a man do strange things. But now
I don't care a cedar nut what befalls
me. It's all fate. I'll go with you, il
you like; if you don't like, why, I'll tnck
myself up in the snow. There are not
6even deaths in store for ns, and we can't
Eteer clear of one."
"What you want, my friend, is com
mon sense and moderation. Oh. dash
this 6now! I've broken my arm, I swear.
The sidewalk ought to be strewn with
sand, instead of which"
"They've strewn it with snow," he
broke in very impertinently, as it
seemed to me, for although I had not
broken my arm I had hurt it, and I did
not relish being laughed at by a beggar.
I bottled up my rage, however, by way
of giving him an object lesson in self
mastery, and we soon came up to &
sleigh, the driver of which was wildly
dancing in order to keep away the bittef
cold and treacherous sleep.
An hour later we were comfortably
seated in my dining room at a table
adorned with a big, bright samovar,
sweetly singing of the joys of domestic
ity, as no kettle on the most blazing fire
in the coziest of rooms ever yet sang.
My strange guest—Nikolai Stepanovitcb
Maikoff was the name he gave—had
brightened up a bit, but only as to his
brain. His mood remained as despond
ent as before. He was a tall, spare man,
with a long, pinched face, high cheek
bones, hollow cheeks with hectic flush,
sunken eyes and shaggy red beard. His
bearing was as haughty as that of a
Spanish beggar, his tone frank and fa
miliar almost to the point of cynicism,
and he had an awkward habit of talking
loudly and interrupting others.
He was an old man of 28 or there
abouts—experience being the stuff that
age is made of, and he, having a deal
more than his share, had burned life's
candle at both ends and scoffed at the
idea of economizing now. I felt pity
for the man on abstract principles, for 1
was fresh from the university and full
of the idea of regulating society and in
fusing what we labeled "the quintes
sence of Christianity, or the gospel ac
cording to Dostoleffsky," into my life. I
mentally set myself to the task of rescu
ing this outcast from the jaws of spirit
ual death and smuggling him once more
into decent society through some back
door, for I held that every fallen man is
better than he fancies himself. I am of
the same opinion still only I would now
add—if not a good deal worse.
"I suppose you don't mind my asking
you something about your antecedents—
just enough to guide me in my choice oi
ways and means of helping you," I said
as I pushed the second tumbler of piping
hot tea toward him, the delicious fra
grance of which he speedily dispelled
with a thin slice of lemon and was about
to annihilate utterly by adding a sus
picion of rum—a very heavy suspicion, it
seemed to me at the time.
"Ah, batyaoslika" (little father), he
exclaimed, waving his hand despairingly,
"the mere thought of disturbing the
ghosts of the past makes my flesh creep.
They seem to stare at me like deserted
images of myself, and they often haunt
and mock me till death would seem a
relief if I were sure of not meeting them
as torturing fiends down there. 'The
moth eats stuffs, and sorrow gnaws the
heart of man,' says the proverb, and
6ome men's hearts were made only to be
gnawed perpetually like Prometheus'
liver. Mine is one of the number. 1
never had what's known as luck, but an
invisible luck conductor instead. The
pleasant thing that I saw only in dreams
happened every day to other people when
they were awake."
And having emptied his glass he push
ed back the saucer on which it stood sc
violently toward me and the samovat
that the tumbler fell out and stained the
white tablecloth. I cut short his apolo
gies by ignoring the incident altogether
and returning to the previous question.
"You are a pessimist, Nikolai Stepan
ovitch." I exclaimed, "and"
"Believe ine," he broke in, "I'd gladly
win the game, but I have neither trumps
nor a long suit, as the saying is, and
must needs let things slide. 'When the
lemon's squeezed dry, it's high time for
the peel to be flung away.' and that':',
my case."
"Well, tell me how it all came about
anyway. You say you were at the uni
versity. Did you take your degree?"
"Not I. I never took anything worth
having. My lot has been that of the
Tartar in the story. When he saw tfcj
delicious kissell (a kind of jelly) in hi:;
dream, he had no spoon to eat it witn,
and when he went to bed with a spoon
in his hand he saw no kissell. I left the
university when my father lost his for
tune, of which we were ignorant until
he lost his life too. My sister and myself
were then for tnrning our hands to some
lucrative work so as to keep the mill
tnrning. But my mother would not
hear of it. She adored me as an icon,
and she wanted a golden frame to pat
me in. I was to enter high society and
play a lion's part therein. The shortest
to Ike anions being through the of
ficers' messroom of n crack regiment, 1
entered the Preobnoshenskv regiment as
a volunteer and in 14 months had passed
my examinations and won my epaulets.
"Life there is an expensive luxury.
One's pay falls short of £10 a year, and
money most never seem a consideration
to an officer. My mother Aad a little an
nuity of her own, not enough to support
me alone, and how she managed to
scraps together the money I squandered
was a mystery which I did not seek to
clear np. Her life, I could see, was a
tissue of physical privations. My sister
hinted that it was also a series of more
tortures. Of that, however, I never saw
any signs. But it was balm to her hear;
to know that I was invited to every big
function of the city, beginning with the
court ball of the winter palace and end
ing with the private theatricals at Prin
cess X.'s. Being an untiring dancer and
a fair talker, I was in great demand ev
erywhere. That was the first point in
the programme drawn up by my mother,
who lived on the tales of my success.
"In time I was booked through for the
haven of matrimony to take in a precious
cargo there, and that was my mother's
second and last point. The girl? Like
most girls of her age and position, only
not quite so fresh perhaps, not quite so
cultured and not quite so highly con
nected. One evening shortly before the |
day fixed for our wedding, while pretty
annoyances were making my life a mis
ery, I received a telegram from my sis
ter asking me to call on her at once. I
seated myself in a sleigh and glided
noiselessly away to my mother's, full of
a presentiment that a fresh stroke of
misfortune was about to fall. One trou
ble breeds another, as the saying goes,
but every sorrow bears seven.
"Leepotshka, my sister, made no at
tempt to break the news. The preestav,
she said, was coming to seal up every
thing we possessed for the creditors. If j
we would raise the amount in time, the I
calamity might be averted. It was a
large sum, but I got it that night from
the father of one of my comrades in re-!
turn for a receipt. My promise to pay
by a certain date was verbal.
"Then I made some attempts to tap
various sources of honest income com
patible with an officer's dignity. I might
as well have tried to press oil from a
rock. I called on editors of newspapers
and reviews. They received me with
smiles, but as soon as they knew what I
wanted seemed to feel on pins and needles
till the thickness of the door was between
them and me. This drove me into the
clutches of a swindling money lender.
A Jew? No. I wish he had been. Ho
was what a Chinaman would call a
Christian devil.
"He lent me money readily more than
once. Then he assailed my ears with
unceasing talk about bills of exchange,
imitating handwriting, acquiring untold
wealth, etc. I didn't know exactly what
he was driving at, but I was satisfied
that the public prosecutor would know,
and that his vocabulary afforded a very
ugly word for it. That alone should
have made me cautious, but it didn't.
Anyhow, it is silly to fight against fate. ;
As the proverb has it, "Move slowly
and you will not elude sorrow; quickly, I
and you will overtake misfortune." A
bird is caught by food, and a man by
spacious words. I yielded and wrote a !
name which belonged to an absent mil
lionaire, who was not even my friend. 1
Next morning I awoke to the fact that
I was a criminal.
"Then the scoundrel rubbed his hands
and smiled and wiped his greasy fore-j
head with gTeasy handkerchief , and said 1
he wonld never tell. He would not even
use the documents. He would sacrifice
his own money for my sake, but on my .
marriage I must undertake to give him j
100.000 rubles in installments. One !
morning, after he had been running on
like this for an hour, I got np and
knocked him down, then I shook him i
till he was blue in the face, and I was j
dragging him to the door to fling him out
when he Ailed me a dashed forger and
threatened to send me along the Via
deeiner road (a synonym for exile to Si
beria). I then pushed him violently into
the anteroom, where two comrades of the
regiment stood looking in speech less hor
ror at the scene.
"I was allowed to send in my resigna
tion. Otherwise 1 should have been a
pariah from the beginning, instead of a
slow process of evolution. For a man t
who quits the army as I did. the only j
branch of public service open is the po- j
lice. I applied for a position in the gen-!
darmerie and obtained it. The letter!
which brought that welcome news was i
put into my hands on my return from j
my mother's funeral. How she died?
For heaven's sake, don't ask me. Even ■
now I cannot trust myself to speak of
that. My bride? She is now the wifo
of Count Y. and one of the leaders of
fashion."
"I have put the iron bedstead in tho
kitchen, master, and they (the Russian j
way of speaking politely of a third par-,
con who is present) can go to bed when j
they like," said my servant girl, eying
furtively my guest as she entered and
left the room.
"I have little more to add," concluded !
Nikolay Stephanovitch. "For a time I was
dazed and moped about. Then I tried j
to realize my position by considering
from every conceivable point of view i
the fact that I was a criminal, a forger, '■
the murderer of my poor old mother,
who adored me, the destroyer of my sis
ter's happiness, a human devil, in a
word. There seemed to me to bo a my*- !
tery as to how it had all come about I |
felt like (Edipus and so many of his '
countrymen, who drifted into crime la:
spite of themselves, as it were, and I :
A. B 0 UR 0 N,
Watchmaker and Gunsmith.
jgEEPS constantly on bbDd • auu ocd plete a**on m«-nt of
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A lull stook of attachments, oil and needles lor all kind of Sewing Machines can h
had by applying to
A.ROURON,
Corner Main and St. Philipstreet, Tbits, danx La
loathed my surroundings, scorned my
coarse companions and cursed my fate.
Then, little by little, I grew accustomed
to everything and forgave myself and
forgot my crime in the end—assimilated
it, in fact.
"After this I took to cards, drinking
and kindred 'pastimes,' and I might be
playing a game of 'vint' this very mo
ment had I not taken pity on a day
dreamer who was in danger of transpor
tation. He was a crack brained literary
man, who believed in God and the pow
er of ideas, cared about every one but
himself and had an excuse for the worst
criminal. 'Spit in his eyes,' a proverb
says, 'and he'll call it God dew.' His
lodgings were to be searched for com
promising papers next night, and one of
my chums was told off to do the work.
I was sorry for the poor fellow, for he
had done more to give me a little p>eace
of mind than any priest I ever met. I
dropiped him a line —anonymously of
course—and next day was dropped by
the service."
"Surely the man was not a spy?" I
asked.
"Heavens, no! As true as gold. He
was that sort of a man that wonld
let himself be roasted over a slow fire
just to save a perfect stranger from a
flogging. I afterward found out that he
had been arrested before I ever posted
the note of warning. A trap? Maybe.
They are not all asleep who snore, even
among the Russian police. Or a curious
coincidence? The devil knows. I neither
knew nor cared. To me it spelled the
same word both ways, and that was
ruin."
"Ruin?'
"Aye, ruin. A dismissed gendarme is
worse than a convict. Every door is
shut to him. He is shunned even by the
convicts who return from Si'oeria. For
him, and therefore for me, there is but
one issue—death."—London Telegraph.
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NEW LUMBER YARD.
JULES DECHAUX, Proprietor
Church street, between Tbib.slat > Phi't. ad
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Choice Cypres* I unitor
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OSCAR L.CAVO * f ,.
WHITMELL P. MARTIN,
ATTORNEY-AT-LAW.
THIBODAUX, LA.
Will practice in Lafourche, Terrebonne
Assumption, Ascension, St. James, and St
Mary.
i Xa^Speeial attention giveD to Collecting.
! Aug.-27-92-ly.
N. VY. WHITEHEAD.
General Insurance Agt.
Impolicies issued at the most
reasonable rates and promptly attend
ed to.
OFFICE— Thiboclaux, La.
Nov.-26-92.
JNO. A. HUBBARD,
Commission Merchant,
Sugar, Molasses and Kice.
No. 78, GRAVIES, STREET,
NEW ORLEANS, LA.
Sept.-3d-92-lv.
JAMES CHEEAULT,
TONSORIAL SALOON,
Shaving, Hair Cutting
-AND
SHAMPOOING.
OPPOSITE ENTRANCE DOOR OF "TIIIB
ODAt'X SENTINEL" OFFICE,
Main St. Thibodaux, La,
Sept.-3U-92-1
H. Hoffmann,
CABINET-MAKER
RRRJLxRElR,
Main St., between St. Philip and Jackson S«
THIBODAUX, BA.
*#■ FURNITURE MANUFACTURED aid RE
PAIRED AT THE SHORTEST NOTICE.
Dr. J. N. FLEETWOOD,
PHYSICIAN SURGEON
OFFICE:
Cor. .St. P' . ip and Thibodau, Streets.
THIBODAUX. LA.
Smith's Hotel
Main St. Houma, La.
C. P. SMITH, Proprietor
Billiards, Liquors and Choice Cigar#
EF*ALWAYS ON HAND^,
On American and European plan Larira
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DUGAS &LEBLANC
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general
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feMRMIU H-4